I’ll try to post frequently from the road.

I described how I feel about driving once over here. 

Woot! woot! 

I’m just going to skip the part where I apologize for being late on your update…

You’ve been through a lot of changes since your last update. First of all, you weaned yourself. There are many who would say that it wasn’t “true” child-led weaning because you use binkies and sippy cups. I think babies are not so easily fooled and I am just prone to guilt-tripping myself. If the average age of weaning worldwide is between 2 and 3, then for every child who nurses to the age of 4, there should be one who weans at 1. That’s how averages usually work.

I wasn’t sure at first if it was a nursing strike, or a real weaning, but since the days kept rolling by without you nursing and I wasn’t engorged, I figured it wasn’t really all that sudden. It just seemed like it to me. You’d really only been nursing once a day, if that. Of course, I was devastated. But I’ll get over it.

On the plus side, you actually hug me more and cuddle more than you did when you were still nursing. I am more than happy to provide that comfort for you.

My favorite story from the last month is a Tale of Two Tiggers. You have had a stuffed Tigger that you absolutely adore since last September. The problem is that it’s not really washable (though we washed it anyway) and we could not find a spare. I finally found them at Target and bought about 6 of them. Just to be safe.

We presented you with a “new” Tiggy while you were holding “old” (now stashed in a sentimental box) Tiggy. You picked up one and then the other. You squeezed the paw on one, and then the other. You squeezed the beanie butt of one, and then the other. You picked each one up and tasted it. Then you cast the new Tiggy aside, rejected. I laughed so hard I almost peed myself. Toddlers are natural scientists. Luckily, we snuck the newbie into your crib while you were asleep, and without having the old one as a comparison, you were fooled.

Sometime in the last month, my sweet boy was replaced with a tantrum spewing pod person. The onset of tantrums coincided with two other events that I think are significant (recall that I am a psychology grad student). First of all, you were no longer fooled by the baby in the mirror. You know it’s you. Second, you started pointing to yourself when you wanted something. In other words, you now know that you exist. And by god, you have opinions and you will not be swayed. When I tell you no and remove you from a situation, I just go ahead and gently lay you on the floor, because if I don’t, you will fling yourself on the floor and bonk your head. So I just go ahead and help you out with that.

Other random stuff:

You love to climb. Everything. You love to dance, and have your own sign for music that looks kind of like you are conducting the song. You are pickier about your food, but still a great eater. Your favorite food is whatever is on my plate. Or peaches. You love playing hide and seek or chasing games. You love car rides. You love pushing a stroller around. You have no new teeth (still 4 on top and 2 on bottom). You love the Cosby show more than Sesame Street. All these years later, I can say that it is really a great show, but good lord, the clothes are awful. You still want to wake up at 5:30, but it’s easy to get you to lay back down until after 6. You scream when initially put down for a nap (you’re down to one per day), but then will sleep for 2 to 3 hours straight. You don’t scream when put down at night. You love your bedtime routine. You love water. You love books—all books, my books, your books, magazines, whatever. You can stack 3, sometimes 4, blocks. You are running now. You try to jump but can’t quite do it yet. You like to brush your own teeth and are fascinated by shoes. You covet electronic devices of all kinds. You reliably say Dada, Dog, and Bath. You squeal with delight when I let the dogs into the house, when your Dada gets home, and when you see a cat. You love stacking things, emptying things, and scribbling.

What don’t you love? Limits. The word “no”. Having your face wiped. That’s pretty much it. It’s the “no” thing that really pisses you off. Even your Nanna, who had eleven children and is a nanny, commented on your temper. I have no idea where you got it…

You don’t have much interest in speaking, but know soooo many signs:

More, book, ball, and shoes are all pretty much signed the same, but in different contexts. Dad and phone also really close, but one involves your thumb to your ear, and the other is your forefinger. You will also sign finished, Tiggy (which is awfully close to “sleep”), Mama, eat, drink, bath, sleep, brush teeth, cereal, milk (which you now use for anything you want really badly—I take it as a compliment), water, car, bus, music, diaper, dog, bird, bye-bye, train, baby, cat, help, wash hands, binky (your own sign—you put the back of your hand to your mouth), cracker. Some of these signs you use more reliably than others, but you have successfully used them all at some point. You will also shake your head “no” and blow kisses.

Things I have learned:

• Every day is a new adventure.
• There is no "catching up" on housework–just learn to roll with it.
• My mother told me that there are times your child will be replaced with someone you do not know, and don’t really like. She was right.
• Just like I have never gotten used to the summers in Phoenix, I will never get used to waking up before 6 a.m.
• In the dictionary, next to the definition of "toddler", there should be a picture of a tornado.
• That happiness I felt when you could start entertaining yourself? It’s been replaced with horror by the level of destruction you can accomplish in five minutes.
• You know that one tone of whining that makes you want to bang your head into the floor? Your toddler will find it. And use it. Liberally. With glee.
• If all else fails, crank the music.
• If that fails, just leave the house.

Some days, I feel like I am absolutely the wrong mother for you, and others I feel like I am THE champion at toddler motherhood. There seems to be no in between. We either have good days, or horrible ones. We’re either in the groove, or NOT. But I feel blessed to have all these days with you.

Thank you, Albie, for being YOU. I don’t always like you, but I always love you. And you have made me into a better person that I would have ever been without you.

Love,

Mama

Here’s a video (nice and short if you don’t have much time) clip of a police officer in China who took it upon herself to nurse hungry infants in during the chaos following the earthquake. She is still nursing two babies (in addition to her 6 month son).

Do you think she would be sued for doing that in the U.S.? 

Thanks to Navelgazing Midwife for the link. 

Every now and then I have to share something that makes me angry. I usually keep these things to myself in blogland because really, there are a lot of things that make me angry, and I don’t want to be an overall downer. I started this blog, mostly, to celebrate insights and precious moments.

I read a lot of shit and am addicted to googlesearch. And there is a lot of rank mess in this world.

Once in awhile something makes me so angry that I want to smash my computer. I wish I could breathe fire, because there’s fire in my chest and it seems like it would feel good to exhale all of that fire and I have always wanted to be a dragon. Seriously. Dragons can fly and breathe fire and deliver destruction. They are also narcissistic and antisocial.

When I read some things, I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I’m not kidding. And then I just want to curl up under a comforter and hide in a small dark closet. Until my head explodes.

I am occasionally driven batshit nutty crazy by some current event or another. I have to take news vacations now and then. Until I come back. And I always come back. Because my #1 addiction (and there are many to choose from) is instant information.

So, I’ve decided to celebrate this compulsion of mine, and thus I have given it a name. Anger and all. It shall be called, "Random Minutes of Hate". Like in 1984, where the characters engaged in a daily, mandatory, two minutes of hate. Mine’s not mandatory. And there is no number of minutes specified. Swearing at your computer screen is not only allowed, but encouraged. You may also shake your fist at the sky. But please, no spitting. That’s just gross.

It should really be minutes of "anger", but "hate" just feels so much better. Admit it.

The only thing I have to say about this segment is that I can’t believe this is happening in 2008. That, and I am never living in Georgia. 

Here’s the link: 

http://feministing.com/archives/009206.html

but here’s the take-home message:

This was after the judge had dismissed the evidence: Ross could have received lacerations and redness documented in a rape kit from shaving, and “[b]ruises can come with a bump into furniture or from other causes.” As far as the claim that Day gave Ross a rape drug, defense counsel responded, “neither Day, nor anyone else for that matter, would have to use any type of drug to convince Plaintiff to participate in sexual conduct.”

The judge found that since Ross and Day had previously had a sexual relationship, Ross should have known her claims were “frivolous… there was no reasonable belief that a court would accept Plaintiff’s claims…”

The nightmare of this case, for Melanie Ross and for all future rape victims in Georgia, is that she was forced to discuss in elaborate detail her sexual past, and then she had her claims dismissed in part because she wasn’t a virgin. Moreover, not only did Ross lose her case, the judge fined her $150,000 for bringing it in the first place - a fee sure to dissuade other victims from coming forward with their own claims. This case is currently being appealed to the Supreme Court of Georgia, which can choose to hear it or not - let’s hope they right this wrong before it hurts more victims.