Saturday, March 5, 2016

HE FINALLY GOT ME

It quickly became clear after we brought his little sister home from the hospital that we were going to have to pay special attention to Baby so that he could be sure he wasn't forgotten and also not resort to disruption and regression to garner his parents' precious attention. There's nothing particularly revolutionary about this; many other parents of two children before us have had to learn how to balance the obvious immediate physical needs of the newborn with the emotional-social needs of the toddler.

I had a few days off to work with, so I planned outings to the Children's Museum, parks, the haircut place, the library. We caught the bus all over. We crossed at crossings no two-year-old should ever brave alone. We laughed. He cried. He fussed. I sighed. And by the end of the week, he was much happier and no longer felt the need to do crazy things to get my attention.

But there was this one time when we were coming back from the park, that Baby finally got me. He finally achieved what hundreds of toddlers before him had achieved, but he had only dreamed about. He pulled the cord when I wasn't paying attention. He pulled the cord before we needed to get off.

What can I say? I was tired. Having a newborn makes you tired. I had just spent the last couple of hours paying attention to a toddler's every move (having a toddler can also make you tired), so maybe my toddler-paying-attention-to circuits were all burned out for the day. Whatever the cause, my dignity would not be so offended again on that trip--I moved to the window seat and kept very close watch on him for the rest of the trip.

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