Friday, November 16, 2007

Still pregnant

Yesterday I spent the entire day contracting painfully about ten minutes apart. In the morning I was at Tallulah's preschool being "an owl in the tree" which meant I was observing the class. During storytime I was squirming more than the 3-5 year olds. Should I stay? Should I pull Tallulah early? Is this real labor or just more Braxton-Hicks? If I wait to know for sure its real labor, will I be able to drive myself and Tallulah home safely?

I'm in this weird mind-space where every day I contract regularly and I think, "Is this a good day to go into labor?" I think about where Kent will be, where Grandma is (she's taking Tallulah when labor happens), where my midwife is, whether I've gotten enough rest, etc...

A lot of this is Tallulah. She needs to go places like the park and school and I want to spend quality time with her, but I don't want to be too far away from home since we have to get Tallulah to her grandma's (by 'we' I mean Kent or Grandma will come pick her up.) I don't want to be in hard labor with Tallulah around. I don't want to worry about how she'll react to me in labor. What I want is for the baby's arrival to be joyous and exciting for her, not a realization of the pain mommy goes through.

It's hard to even think about the reality of a BABY because I'm so busy in my head thinking about the timing and the logistics.

Yesterday, in the evening when I was still contracting we shipped Tallulah off to Grandma's and I thought, "ok, this is perfect. The perfect time to go into labor." And then I didn't.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

Disequilibrium

Tallulah is four. I realize that she actually turned four a month ago, but now she is waist deep in the maelstrom of four.

For the past few months we've been having this honeymoon period of calm happiness, but in the back of my mind I kept reminding myself, every two years, every two years. Because all of the parenting books say that every two years, children go through a period of disequilibrium. This is where the phrase 'terrible two's' comes from. In theory, the 'terrible' bit happens every two years as kids move in and out of comfort with their limitations and abilities.

Tallulah's terrible two's started at 18 months and lasted until two and a half years-- she was practically following the textbooks! She needed constant control and limits-- I couldn't say, don't touch that. I had to get up, help her put down the Faberge Egg or whatever it was she was holding with the intent of throwing through the nearest window, and re-direct with a more appropriate activity. And usually take her to the wall for timeout when she threw down with rage.

So I was expecting the fearsome fours or whatever it is they call this stage of disequilibrium. I just wasn't sure what they entailed. By the time four rolls around, most kids have developed their own weird eccentricities so the parenting books aren't as clear about them as they are aout terrible two's.

Let me tell you about four:
Picture a hummingbird in love with one particular flower. It may look motionless, it may refuse to budge from the flower, but it is still in constant motion. This is four.

Here's an example:
Yesterday we go to the park and it's time to leave. As we are walking to the car, Tallulah finds the perfect rock to throw in the pond. "Ok," I say, "one rock and then we have to go."
Unfortunately, the rock goes in a very unsatisfying direction and Tallulah needs to throw a second rock, but better. This rock almost hits some weird garbage in the water and now Tallulah needs to throw another rock to actually hit the weird garbage in the water. This, of course, takes not one rock, but five rocks, at which point mommy is thoroughly tired of waiting for the rock throwing to come to a satisfactory conclusion.
"But mommy, what is that thing in the water?"
"I don't know. Just some garbage."
"Why is that garbage in the water?"
"Um, maybe someone threw it in there. Or someone threw it on the ground and it blew in the water. That's why we always put our garbage in the garbage can."
"Why do we put our garbage in the garbage can?"
"So it doesn't get in the water"
"But that garbage is in the water."
"Because someone didn't put their garbage in the garbage can."
"Why didn't someone put their garbage in the garbage can?"
"Can we go to the car now?"
"One more rock, mommy."

But I can't rush the process because this rock throwing-- and every other excruciatingly time consuming thing that grabs Tallulah's attention-- is Very Important Business. Huge. I think I get important phone calls every now and then, but it is nothing compared to the business of whatever-is-drawing-Tallulah's-attention-this-minute. And if I try to grab her up and move her bodily away from the activity, I no longer get the tantrum or the hissy fit or whatever else she does that I've learned to ignore. I get the lecture.
"Mommy, that wasn't very nice."
"I told you it was time to go."
"Pushing me around is not very nice."
"Not doing what mommy tells you is not very nice either."
"Yes, but you need to be nice and tell me nice things and not push me around."
"Sometimes mommy isn't nice. Deal."
"Yes, mommy, I know. And that isn't good. You need to be nice."

And the thing is, she's not wrong. I do need to be patient with her and let her explore and all that. And being pregnant has helped with it because I can't just scoop her up bodily and whisk her away. But it's so slooooow. I think preschool time may be harder to deal with than toddler time. At least with toddler time I knew she was making a good faith effort to move in the appropriate direction, it just took a long time and she had to do it herself. Now Tallulah has every intention of doing what I want her to do, but after she checks this out. And asks questions about that. Oh, and that reminds her of this other thing she was going to do. And how come this isn't here?

Aah, four.