The summer is almost over, and I am waxing ironical. Owen, who clung to the edge of the pool with terror just a week ago, floated blissfully with his younger brother around the deep end for an hour this afternoon, his third "real" swimming excursion in the past four days. This clip was recorded on Saturday. Today, he was pushing off the steps, shouting, "Look at me!" When Nicholas isn't climbing out of the pool only to jump right back in again, he's walking down our steps all by himself. Peter, who could probably float based on his percentage of body fat alone, is one arm-tuck shy of rolling over and one drool vat short of cutting his first tooth.
And yet I am feeling a little bitter. Why do all of these great milestones have to coincide with my imminent return to work? I'm predicting that Peter's tooth will pop out the Tuesday after Labor Day, that Nicholas will say his first subject-verb sentence to his teacher at Kindercare, and that Owen will deliver #2 right into the potty as soon as I pull out of the school parking lot.
The last few weeks are always the toughest. I want, more than anything, to hit pause and take it all in. Or, it could just be that I don't want to go back to grading 125 essays per week and would, now, in hindsight, much prefer reading How Do Dinosaurs Play with their Friends? 10 times a day. Instead of changing 5 to 10 poops a day, I'll be dealing with more figurative crap, like telling an adolescent male that his "Jump if You're Wearing a Miniskirt" t-shirt IS really inappropriate and not up for debate or discussion, or telling a 16 year-old beauty queen that dropping the F-bomb IS degrading to both you and her. I'm trading in one form of assertive discipline for another. At least that's what I'm trying to tell myself.
It's been a great four months, and I don't want to seem ungrateful. How many women would love to have that much time for a maternity leave? Hey, there are some days that I don't get out of my pajamas until noon. There are also a few when I forget to brush my teeth until noon, and I DON'T advise that. And yet, there is never a time that I am not busy. It's a different kind of busy than I have ever been. It's the kind of busy that I can't describe at the end of the day. Jason will walk in the door and ask how my day was, and I'll have nothing to say. It was all being done. Laundry, dishes, diaper changes, toys, upstairs, downstairs, potty time, snack time, coloring, lunch time. Before I know it, the clock says 5pm, my house looks like a bomb hit it, and I realize that I never took those chicken breasts out of the freezer to defrost for dinner. I used to think that ordering pizza was reserved for Fridays in Lent or Mondays after late-running faculty or department meetings. I've eaten more pizza in these last four months to know this: Lisa's Pizza in Westwood makes the best if all you want is pizza, Chicken Delight in Hillsdale can do a great pizza and wings combo, Savino's in Paramus delivers the fastest and makes the best chicken parm, Eposito's in Emerson takes the longest to deliver but makes a mean escarole and bean soup, and not all garlic knots are created equal (Lisa's wins again!).
Somewhere along the way, Owen started eating an actual slice of pizza, right side up. Nicholas no longer likes the crust unless you dip it in marinara sauce, and he does not understand the laws of double dipping. You know you order out a lot when your kids yell "PIZZA" upon immediate sight of a car slowing down in front of your home.
Grandma and Grandpa A gave Owen and Nicholas some very cute back-to-school backpacks on Sunday. Thomas for Owen, Elmo for Nicholas. After the boys were in bed, I realized that I could, in fact make a separate "diaper" bag for each of them; one for Owen with lots of extra clothes, pairs of undies, a spare pull-up and toddler wipes, and one for Nicholas with some changes of clothes, diapers and wipes. I looked at the bags and found great little side pockets for travel cups and snacks. I realized that each of them is really becoming his own little person. And I didn't cry. I smiled, the same smile I had poolside this evening. They're growing, they'll always be my babies, but they are becoming little men.
No comments:
Post a Comment