Eight Weeks

“Hi mom. How did you sleep?”

Every day for a week this was my morning greeting.

Every day for a week Eddie and I moved into a comfortable buddy relationship that we have never had before.

Every day for a week I marveled at how Charlie went from my mushy little baby into a full on little so-and-so walking and babbling and being full of being Charlie.

Every night I fell into bed completely exhausted.

It was a wonderful exhaustion.

There were times when Eddie and I faced off, when he stopped using his words and instead used his screams and grunts.

There were times when I thought I might lock Charlie in his room for the rest of the day because he wouldn’t stop climbing on ALL THE THINGS (oh yeah, because he does that now).

I learned that Charlie is not ready to drop his morning nap unless we are out and about and super busy, but I also learned that his limit is 3 hours of nap a day.  Doesn’t matter how it’s broken up or when it is, 3 hours. Limit.  Otherwise? We are all up all night with someone who wants to party. Ahem…Charlie.

I learned that Eddie has a voice and that voice has something to say.  When Eddie is heard, his behavior vastly improves.  Every choice was talked over between the two of us.  Cereal or pancakes for breakfast?  Grapes or bananas?  Stop for gas now or later?  Should I have another cup of coffee or have some water?  Should I put Bird down for nap now or later?  Is it a cleaning day or a relaxing day?

Sometimes we decided he didn’t need a nap that day and he helped me with laundry and cleaning and playing Legos and entertaining Charlie and racing Mario Kart and making dinner.

We read books together and napped together and cuddled together and ate together.

He told me stories and made me laugh.

He broke my heart telling me when kids were not nice to him and how he didn’t say anything.

We talked about why flowers and plants and pets and people have to die, and how there is a time for new things to be born and grow.

He asked questions and made observations.  I asked him questions in returned and offered explanation when I had it.

Charlie discovered he can go pretty fast on two feet rather than two knees/two hands.  He found that he can climb on the footstool, the chair, and the couch.  He can also fall.  A million times.  But not a million-and-one times.  Nope.  That is when he suddenly got on his tummy and slide down feet first.  And clapped for himself.

Charlie learned the art of pushing boundaries.  How close can I get to touching something before I am redirected?  Does crying help? No, it does not. Darn.

Charlie protested milk and insisted on a bottle at least twice a day with FORMULA, NOT MILK, MOM! And if I insisted on milk? The bottle came flying back at me and wailing ensued.

Sometimes you choose your battles.

I watched two little men that at one time were little blobs growing in my tummy.  Now they are people with personalities and they are making their presence known with clapping and screeching  and dancing and singing along to the Sofia the First soundtrack.

And now we are back to our routine of daycare and work.  A different kind of exhaustion that is not nearly as satisfying.

But it’s just eight more weeks.

Eight more weeks until we can go back to the business of playing.