Besides our wedding pictures, William and I have so few pics of just the two of us. And, there is almost always something wrong with the few that we have. Part of it has to do with the great variations in our skin colors. The camera can’t figure whether it has to lighten the shot or darken it. Inevitably William ends up looking washed out. Here is one of the more decent pictures of the two of us taken Thanksgiving 2007 (November 22).
Click on image to view larger picture and a few more
On Monday, November 26, 2007, which is a week shy of her three month birthday, Caitlin rolled over for the first time. She turned from her tummy to her back. She is currently working on turning from her back to her tummy.
Most of the maternal blogs I have read seem to portray their kids as being perfect. Sure they may have a few glitches here and there, but for the most part they seem to be the “perfect” child. Reading such sites often make me wonder “What the heck is wrong with my child?”
For the past couple of months Aidan has been going through this stage (at least I hope its a stage) where he has to defy everything you ask him to do. For example, ask him to be quiet and he raises his voice, tell him to do something and the first word out if his mouth is “no” or “can’t.” I thought his behavior was reserved only for the home but I was sadly mistaken.
Within the second week of starting school I found out that he does it over there too. It has gotten so bad that Aidan actually has the teaching assistant assigned to work just with him. This way the teacher can carry on with her lesson and Aidan won’t disrupt the class with his antics. It is heart breaking to think that my son’s behavior almost makes him equivalent to a special needs student. I often wonder if the teacher looks at him every morning he comes in and thinks to herself, “Oh no, not him again. Why couldn’t he have called in sick?”
The final blow to my motherly pride came last week when I went to pick Aidan up from school. His class had put together an impromptu chorus. There were his classmates lined up perfectly along the back wall singing to a room filled with all but one glowing parent. You see, Aidan was not a part of the the chorus line. Instead he was seated, next to the chorus line, on the lap of the teaching assistant who looked like she was holding him down. He had absolutely no interest in what his class was doing.
Later I found out that Aidan had been more than a handful that day. He was screaming, disobedient, and defiant. The teacher was not happy to say the least. Recalling the incident still makes me feel like crying. What happened to my baby boy, my pride and joy, my trophy baby? Where and when did it all go wrong?
*SIGH* Now what?
Aidan has since been grounded for the week. No computer and no T.V. The ban was lifted this week because the teaching assistant said he was much better in class on Tuesday, especially considering the teacher was out for the day and they had a substitute. I’m not sure what she meant by “much better.” Either he misbehaved or he didn’t. So I asked her if she thought it would be okay for Aidan to play on the computer again. She said yes and Aidan jumped straight onto the computer chair when we got home.
We’ll see how he behaves on Thursday. If I hear that he misbehaved even once, then the grounding is going back into effect. I’m hoping that eventually the grounding will break his defiant streak, at least in school. Only time will tell.
My mother-in-law believes Aidan’s defiance stems from the fact that he is really smart. Sure, I’ll go with that… in fact, I’d love to believe that. Yes, Aidan is really smart, but he is not smart enough to know how to behave in school. It is something that could hurt him when he gets older. No teacher wants to have a challenging, misbehaving student in their classroom no matter how smart he may be.
So there, I’ve said it. My kid is not perfect. In fact he is far from it. But, he is my son and I love him. And, I hope with the right direction and encouragement William and I can steer him on the path to becoming a model citizen. I hope!
This afternoon while snacking on an apple Aidan said something that had me rolling on the floor with laughter…
Aidan: Mom apple’s green.
Mom: Yes Aidan, that apple is green.
Aidan: Mom you’re brown.
Mom: (Smile) Yes Aidan, I am brown. What color is daddy?
Aidan: White.
Mom: (Grin) Daddy is white. What color are you?
Aidan: White.
Mom: (Laugh out loud) No Aidan you are not white, you are tan.
On November 03, Caitlin turned two months and wow, how much she has changed. She smiles a lot and loves to talk (coo) to you. For a two month old she is very alert and aware of her surroundings and holds her head up really well. She is also a pretty good sleeper usually sleeping at least six hours at night before her next feeding. Compared to my two boys, she is by far the easiest baby I have dealt with.
In celebration of Caitlin turning two months old I am documenting her birth… more so I don’t forget the events of that day.
Aidan woke up at 4 am crying for the no reason. As both my boys were born in the morning, I figured Caitlin would follow the same path. But, I wasn’t feeling any contractions so I went back to sleep thinking, “She’s not coming today.” I had been feeling Braxton Hicks for the past couple of weeks and thought that it was having another fake contraction when I woke up at 5:30 am to go pee. And, there it was… my first sign that I was going into labor… I was having a bloody show. So that wasn’t a Braxton Hick… it was a really contraction. Oh joy! Finally!
I calmly woke William up and told him that we should get ready to go to the hospital. Since my contractions were not coming one after the other, I figured I had time to put myself together, straighten my hair, put on some make-up, etc. Don’t ask me why, but I just wanted to look good for this delivery. Lol! William on the hand was running around, getting the car out of the garage and putting my suitcase in. He was going from our labor experience with Mark where I was fully dilated by the time I got to the hospital. I think he was afraid that it would happen again. He was in a hurry to get me to the hospital.
We arrived at the hospital at around 6:30 am. I called Carolyn (my MIL) on the way to the hospital to tell her where we were headed and laughing told her that they probably would send me home cause my contractions were not coming so fast and my water had not broken. She doubted they would do that and she was right. After answering a bunch of questions in triage I was checked and told that I was 5 cm dilated. I was then told to walk around to help my labor progress.
Boy did it progress. An hour later I was 8 cm dilated and the contractions were coming fast. I was moved into labor and delivery room to finish dilating. I’m not sure how long that took but I think it went by fast. I have to say, I’m really grateful for the birthing ball. It, along with William’s wonderful massages, helped lessen the pain of the contractions. During all the contractions my water never broke so the midwife had to do that for me.
I have to say the hardest part of my delivery was pushing Caitlin out… something I brought on myself. You see, the day before I went to the hospital I had a bowl of raisin bran, but I never went to the bathroom that day. Now, lying there on the delivery bed, I was afraid my body would let me down! I was terrified I was going to poop. William, Janice (my midwife), and the nurse would tell me to push and I would cry back, “No, I don’t want to poop!’ They would yell back, “Just poop, its okay!” Thankfully I did not poop (at least that’s what William told me and I believe him cause he never lies to me), and after 20 minutes of pushing Caitlin was born.
For those interested, total labor and delivery time was 4 hours. And, I did it without any painkillers or an epidural. I know I shouldn’t gloat, but I am very proud of the fact I was able to do it naturally.
It seems like only yesterday Caitlin was born, but then again, it seems like she has been a part of this family forever. I don’t know what it is about Caitlin that has me completely infatuated with her. I love my boys, but I feel that Caitlin is special. Maybe it’s because she was my wish come true for having a girl. Oh, and she has the most adorable chubby cheeks that I can’t stop kissing. 🙂
Although the last two months have been crazy, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. My family is complete and life is good. Family and friends always ask me how I’m doing and I reply with “I’m fine,” to which they look at me with amazement. I won’t lie, it’s been tough but I seem to be managing. Of course some days are better than other. I haven’t gone crazy yet, which is a plus. When I do go crazy, that’s when you need to worry about me. For now, I’m fine.
PS: I have to give a shout out to my beloved cousin Kawshi who came to visit us at just the right time. She watched the boys while I was in the hospital and did a wonderful job. Kawshi, if you can watch my kids anytime you want. I’ll feed you in return.
My little princess…
Click on image to view larger picture
Additionally, here are some links to pictures of the kids enjoying Halloween and some pictures from the Fall Festival held at Aidan’s preschool.
Halloween 2007
Fall Festival
Click on image to view larger picture.
Aidan started preschool yesterday. Here are some pictures from his first day. Aidan’s first day at preschool.
Also, here is a picture of Caitlin. Sleeping Caitlin.
Carolyn, my mother-in-law, emailed me this story. I feel that it is one that speaks to the heart of all the mothers out there.
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I’m invisible.
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, “Can’t you see I’m on the phone?” Obviously not. No one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, “What time is it?” I’m a satellite guide to answer, “What number is the Disney Channel?” I’m a car to order, “Right around 5:30, please.”
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going … she’s going … she’s gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, “I brought you this.” It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: “To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”
In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern
my work:
* No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names.
* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
* The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.”And the workman replied, “Because God sees.”
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, “I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.”
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, “My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, “You’re gonna love it there.”
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
