How to Win Friends and Influence People

45 Weeks

Turns out our township park has great stuff for little ones. We're looking forward to spending the next few years making new family friends and visiting kid-friendly stuff Ren can climb. Our first trip there, Ren tried to gain the attention of the only other child on the play ground: a cutie toddler with pink princess boots, a cape, and uneven pig-tails. Ren put on the ritz as he stood firm in a butt-clench stance, giggling and yelling to her from swings to see-saws. Every six seconds or so he'd open his throat and scream like he was being stabbed. With his new biting issue and these high-pitched, bone-rattling shrieks, he'll be sure to have kids lining up to hang out at birthday parties.

It's not you, it's me.

44 Weeks

The women I work with make up 85% of my mothering knowledge. They give advice, I listen. I ask simple questions, they teach layers of answers. At the moment, Ren is the youngest of the office offspring. Every conversation starts with, "Just you wait..."

One of my colleague-sister-mother-friends has three children ages six, three, and three. The toddlers are identical. She and her husband both work full time. Before I was pregnant I used to say stupid Friday/Monday phrases to her until one day she said, "I don't really have anything to report about my weekends. That's when we buy food, clean clothes, and remove crayon from the walls." Honestly, I don't know how she does it. She must have super-hero in her ancestry. One, I still cry a few times a week on my way to work. "I'm not depressed. I'm devoted," I tell myself as I pull it together by the time I turn off the engine. Two, I'm the idiot who still insists on making time for writing. It's like my coke habit has turned into aspirin therapy, but I'm still scribbling, damn it. Bit by bit. Keep an eye out for my fortune cookie collection next. Three, I barely have time to eat. If I had two more children I'd die in the stupidest way ever: nutritional amnesia.

Somehow, I manage to slowly creep through life accomplishing things, but they are never as quickly as I'd like. I have plays to write, wall paper to replace, thighs that need firming. When I do a thing like I used to do (meditate, for example) I am reminded that my personal timeline is still the same, it's just being stretched. I'll get to things eventually.

I tried explaining this to the psychologist I started seeing in April to get some relief about my mother's death. In the past 22 weeks since I committed to weekly therapy, I made it there seven times. My last session was our last. She gave me the number of someone closer to our home, thinking location is the wrench. What she doesn't understand, is if she happened to see her patients out of our own basement I'd still forget I'd made an appointment until I went down there to empty the dehumidifier. Yeah, we broke up. In an odd way, I feel better. I can cross grief off the list. Next!

No Trespassing

43 Weeks

Ren is crawling on his hands and knees.
Ren is saying, "Dada Dada Dada."
Ren is ticklish on his back.
He is pulling up on everything that will hold his weight and he loves cars. Toy cars and real cars.
Ren's favorite books are Good Night Gorilla, The Little Blue Truck, and the infamous Llama Llama series.
Ren doesn't like mashed peas anymore. He only wants finger foods. Tapas.
Ren helps pull his shirts off over his own head.
He loves to chase after balls, and since we put him in the pool at an office party, he knows how to splash during bath time.
Ren knows how to jump, dance, wiggle, bring things, and shake toys that make noise.
Getting a clean diaper on him is like trying to put underwear on a cat, and while we hesitate to overuse the word "no" we find there are moments when there isn't really an alternative...

Sleeping Duty

42 Weeks

[I don't want to open my eyes. Please. Just one more minute. No, two. Two minutes... zzzzzzz....

Oh that would be so ni... zzzzzz...

Two minutes... zzzzz....

Oh I don't want to move. Uh. Just two minutes...

That's silly, two minutes. Three. Yeah. Three whole minutes. Just three whole more minutes would be amazing.... zzzzz...

He's moving. Oh please just three more minutes. If he lays here for three more minutes, I will get to be three whole minutes less tired. He won't be hungry for another, sure, let's say three minutes. That would be great, right? Maybe I shouldn't feed him just yet. What if he bites me again. Little devil. He smiled last time! Giggled even! Little dev— Oh. He's moving more now. Turning over. No! Just three more minutes. Just three with eyes closed and deep breathing and— Oh, he's awake for sure. He's turning. Yeah. He's going on his stomach, squeeze, I'll squeeze a little tighter. I cannot believe he was on his hands and knees last night. Seriously. Where does the time go? Oh my God. I forgot to write Natalie back. I did, didn't I? What a jerk. I'm an ass. Ah. He wants to crawl. He learns something new and that all he wants to do. So funny. Like when you learn a new dance move or how to roll your tongue. Does this mean he's just doing this every so often or— A yawn! Yes. Oh, honey. Go back to sleep. Please. Just three more minutes for mommy... I feel his little breath. Oh, I love his little breath. I love him so much. I want to hold him forever. I could. Oh I love him. I love you, I love you, I love you— Breath. Tee. So cute. That little breath on my cheek. Is he going to bite me aga— What? What did he say? "itzs" Huh. Cute... OK, now lay back down, Ren. Three minutes. Please? I'm. So. Tired. Three more minutes. No four. FOUR. Yeeees. Four. AMAZING. Wouldn't that be—? Oh that would be dreamy. What is "itzs"? He definitely said something, meant someth— No! He just put his little lips on mine! He just KISSED me! He just ITZSed me! His first word. I think that was his first word!!!!]

Good morning, Ren!!!!!!