Sam and Caroline

Caroline has started to gurgle, coo, and make other funny noises, much to Sam's amusement. Today in the car we heard:

Caroline: "Gah-groo? Awugh!"
Sam: "Noooo, Caroline! You can't have licorice! You don't have any teeth!"
Caroline: "Augh!"
Sam, giggling: "Caroline, I'm going to take you to bed to go to sleep with me! You'll be mine!"

Sure enough, he wanted me to keep Caroline upstairs with him while he went to sleep, and the last thing he asked for before falling to sleep was to kiss her one more time.

Lest this post sound like all is sunshine and bliss around the Leen household, I should assure you that these types of episodes mostly make up for the other kind - the screaming, tantruming, pant-wetting, time-out-inducing, unreasonable and intractable kind, which we're having a lot of. I really do try to remember that Sam has gone through so many adjustments in the last few months, most of which he's completed like a pro. He's done so much that I've asked of him, and he never, ever directs any anger toward Caroline. We have yet to hear any sort of "put her back" request. I find that responding to his needs promptly when I can, especially his requests to nurse, does wonders for his disposition (I did need to put a slight cap on that last part, so he gets 10 star stickers to redeem for nursing sessions each day), and that sometimes he just needs some alone time away from both of us to cool off when things get overwhelming. It's so easy to look at him and just see how big he is compared to her. A few nights ago I was putting him to sleep while Mark was downstairs with Caroline, and when I had that rare alone time with him I was suddenly struck by how small he still is. His little back was facing me as I lay next to him, and his little feet were tucked into my knees. His body takes up so little of his twin bed. I suddenly had the urge to hug him to my chest and nestle my nose into his hair, an urge that I indulged while he snoozed away. And I lay there thinking about how fast he's grown, how good he's doing, and how proud I am of him. And I got a little teary, as mommies sometimes do.

And Caroline...oh, Caroline. I am so in love with my little girl. She is just so sweet. I loved Sam at that age because he was curious and demanding and even funny. Caroline is sweet and mild and snuggly. She wants nothing more than to nurse and make eyes at me, and when she's done, to sit up on my lap and just be a part of whatever it is I'm doing - eating, playing with Sam, typing on the computer. And when she's had enough, I rock her in my arms and off she goes. She sleeps for long stretches at night snuggled up against me. She will sleep in the co-sleeper for shorter stretches, but I don't really want her to. She feels like my teddy bear, my security blanket. Her breath is sweet and warm, and her little body feels relaxed and safe. During the day I can tell already that she is completely in love with Sam, and Sam is eating it up. I can see forward years and years, as Sam bends over backward to make her laugh, and she obliges. What a great match of siblings.

Caroline's baptism

We got our little girl baptized on Sunday! Unfortunately, she fell fast asleep in the cozy towel, and when Father Ryan took her out of it and lifted her in the air...

Time

Something about the cherry blossoms falling from the trees at the park today made me feel really nostalgic. I was carrying sleeping Caroline in a sling and watching Sam play with a little 18 month old girl named Frances and I found myself wondering, what was Samlike when he was 18 months old? Do I even really remember? I had started this blog around that time, so I have records of everything, but did I really soak it in beyond what I wrote down?

Time is flying by so quickly now. When Sam was a baby, time just crept. I kept waiting for him to do something, to get past a troublesome phase, to learn to walk or play on his own. Everything felt so permanent and never-ending. No wonder it moved so slowly. THis time, though, I have this little boy to look at and I can hardly believe he was ever a tiny baby, he's just so boy now. I see now that they endless night nursing, the struggles to crawl or walk, the sleep deprived stupor...it all ends. Here is this little, spirited, opinionated, verbal boy who sleeps in his own room in his own bed and can lift a spoon full of tomato soup to his mouth without spilling a drop.

So, here I have this new little baby, just as little as he was. And time is flying. Already, she smiles and coos at me, begging for my attention. She sleeps next to me and I love it, because I know that she won't be there forever and that I'll miss her terribly when eventually she's asleep in her own room. I look down at her smiling up at me with my nipple in her mouth while we're nursing, and I realize that we're already about a third of the way through the time when food from my body will be the only nutrition she needs.

I wonder with some guilt if I just let that part of Sam's life slip by because I was so wrapped up in the timeline in my head. And then, I forgive myself for being a tired, wrinkled, worn-out first time mom and remind myself to enjoy what I have right here, right now. Because once it's gone, it's just a memory.

Sam and I strung these beads that we madeon a string, and he insisted on wearing them to the park, where he ran around yelling "dinner for supper!" and shouting into the toy telephone, "Hellooooo! Is anyone there? Aiuta me! Aiuta me!" We're on a roll, socially speaking.

The Expert

I've been feeling quite bossed around lately. I don't mean the typical two-year-old traits, although we have those going on, too. Last week, I told Sam we were going to Fred Meyer's, and, with practically an eye-roll, he said, "Not Fred Meyer's, mom, Fred Meyer." I got the same treatment a few days ago when I told him to "touch gentle" when handling Caroline: "Not, gent-le, gent-ly!" Yes, I am aware of how freaky it is that my two year old apparently knows about the proper use of an adverb. I also get parenting advice on a regular basis. She cries in her swing, and Sam says authoritatively, "I think she needs to nurse" or "she has a wet diaper." And he's often right. I think I'm just going to go on vacation and leave him in charge.

Modern Art

Artist: Samuel James Leen
Title: Sozzy (I asked)
Medium: Art clay, hotwheels and yarn needle