Storytellers

It's hard to believe Natalia is already four weeks old, especially since we are still listening to Leon process her birth.  When Ree was about this age, she told the same two stories over and over again.  Like his sis, Leon is obsessed with telling a handful of stories, and on a daily basis, we get to hear about the night of Natalia's birth.

It's a long story in itself, but on the night Natalia was born, a nurse insisted I give Natalia a mixture of formula and glucose.  Because Natalia was a breastfed baby (I actually had to cut her off in the middle of a feeding to give her the silly stuff), they let me feed her with a syringe rather than a bottle.  Leon came over while I was feeding her, his eyes grew wide, and he excitedly determined that I was giving her medicine.  When they need it, I still give the kids infant ibuprofen using a dropper, and this was something about a new baby that Leon understood and had recently experienced himself.

For several weeks, Leon told the story the same way.  "Doctor give baby medicine.  Mmm...delicious!"  (The kids' medicine is fruit flavored.)  He told the story so many times that one night at a bedtime, a very sleepy Michael looked up and added the "Mmm...delicious!" part.  They say kids don't understand sarcasm until around the age of 7, but I swear Micheal's voice was dripping with it.  You could tell Michael really wanted to say, "Just shut up and go to sleep already!"

Jeff and I tried to talk to Leon about all the other things that happened at the hospital, not to mention all the other aspects of life with a new baby, but the story remained the same.  Finally, one day last week, the story expanded.  "Doctor give baby medicine.  Mmm...delicous!"  The he sadly added, "Bye, Mom!  Bye, Baby!"  I felt like a psychologist watching a patient have a break through.  We were getting somewhere!  The emotional part of the story.  He didn't like leaving us there!

Since that night he has continued adding on to his story, adding a new incident every day or two.  Tonight he even added a beginning.  Currently, the entire story (with translation):

Go sleep.  Daddy wake up. Go hospital.  (We went to sleep, then Daddy woke us up and we went to the hospital.)
Doctor give baby medicine.  (The doctor gave the baby medicine.)
Mommy help medicine. (Mommy helped to give the baby medicine.)
Leon help medicine. (Leon helped to give the baby medicine.)
Watch TV! (Ree, Leon, and Michael got to watch kids' shows on TV.)
Mommy bracelet. (The nurses put a bracelet on Mommy.)
Daddy bracelet. (The nurses put a bracelet on Daddy.)
TV over. (The TV show we were watching ended.)
Bye, Mom! (We had to say goodbye to Mom.)
Bye, Baby! (We had to say goodbye to the new baby.)

I'm sure the story will continue to grow.  Most amazingly, any details he adds are accurate.  Then again, this is the kid who sits down at bedtime each night and tells me EVERYTHING about the day, down to who ate what at every meal.  I also realized tonight that Leon's processing isn't just helping him.  As I tucked Ree in, she then started talking about her experience, with the hard part for her being the getting out of bed and into the car in the middle of the night.  She was smiling and laughing as she told me how confused she was that night.  I am glad she's at the point where she can remember it fondly, even if it took hearing Leon's story a few hundred times to get her there.

Our Spiritual Guru

My parents say a blessing before dinner each night.  They've visited twice since Christmas, and when they are here, we do the same.  Michael got used to the new routine, and although they've left, each night when we sit down to eat he folds his hands and commands, "Prayer!"  We then say a traditional Catholic meal blessing.  Michael, however, always ends it with a huge grin and an untraditional, "Let's Eat!"  We then all smile and dig in.

New Friends

We had gorgeous weather all last week.  Actually, the weather is still nice, and I couldn't be more thankful.  We've been able to get the kids outside and to let some fresh air inside the house.  And it's February.  This is why we moved to southeastern North Carolina.  (Although I have to admit, I really enjoyed the snow last month.  I am just greedy like that and want to experience all the seasons.  On a side note, our neighbors are moving to Naples, Florida because they can't take another "brutal" winter like this one!)

Anywho, because it was sunny and warm, last Friday Jeff and I took the whole crew to pick up Ree from preschool.  We went early so the boys could enjoy some time on the playground.  Ree's preschool is in an older house that has been converted to a school, and the playground is a huge, fenced in backyard filled with large, old trees and all sorts of wonderful things to do.  It's also a "community" preschool in which the parents are in charge and families are welcome just about any time.  As a result, there is typically a swarm of younger siblings playing outside while they wait for the big kids to finish with their school day inside.  As it turned out, the preschoolers were actually out on the playground when we arrived.  The weather was so nice the teachers took everyone outside to eat lunch and play.

As we walked on to the playground, I immediately apologized to the teachers.  We'd had no intention of walking into their activities, but they truly didn't seem to mind.  And I had to admit I was enjoying being there.  The sun was shining, Natalia was sleeping in the sling, and one of the teachers had brought a CD player outside and reggae filled the air.  Of course, Ree was not much of a fan of any of this, since she doesn't do well with sudden changes.  First lunch had been moved, then she had to contend with us showing up during the school day.  Not so great.  So while Jeff talked to her (she always responds better to him than to me), I got to watch the boys.

At home, when they play with each other, the boys act like idiots.  There is no way around it.  I suppose that is just what brothers do, but I always wonder if they are truly that inept socially.  Leon has shown signs of being able to adapt to different situations, though.  There was one night a month or two ago in which Michael wasn't feeling well and asked to go to bed right after dinner.  When it came time for baths, Leon did not want to take a bath by himself, and Ree amazingly agreed to take a bath with him.  During their bath, I watched as Leon started to take toys from Ree, like he does from Michael, but I could see Leon catching himself.  He actually asked Ree before he took toys from here.  Not that he's always this good.  Since Saturday afternoon, I've had to forcibly remove Leon from Ree's room on four or five occasions after he snuck in uninvited.  On the playground, Leon started drawing with sidewalk chalk, and he and a little boy from Ree's class ended up coloring together for 45 minutes.  I would sneak over at times to listen to their conversation.  It was mostly the older boy patiently giving Leon suggestions for what to draw (no matter the suggestion, Leon drew a line and proclaimed it to be the recommend object) and showing Leon how to use an eraser while Leon responded with "please" and "thank you."  It was very fun to watch.

Then there's Michael.  He doesn't play well with Leon at home.  And on the playground at preschool, he doesn't play well with the other boys.  He doesn't do well with taking turns and sharing.  Jeff said he's actually watched Michael refuse to throw a ball for fear that someone else will touch it, even though Michael knows the other child just wants to throw it back to him.  What I hadn't thought about, though, was the girl factor.

The girls in Ree's class love Michael.  They fight over who gets to carry him around (I have no idea how they lift him.  I barely can!) and who gets to pull him in the wagon.  As I was dropping off Ree one day last week, a girl walked up to me knowing that I was Ree's mom and proclaimed, "I love Michael."  And I had never thought about it before, but Michael does play well with girls.  At one point last Friday the boys were playing in the sandbox, and this same girl walks up to him, catches his eye, and says, "Hi, Michael!"  Michael, proving to be far more savvy than I ever imagined, immediately responded, "Hi, Maggie," and the two proceeded to play together for quite awhile.  I guess there is hope!

A Very Merry Unbirthday

My birthday was last week.  A lot of people commented that it was probably a strange birthday.  Part of me didn't really even understand that comment.  No, I wasn't out doing tequila shots or having a fancy dinner with all my nearest and dearest, but I was home all day with my family, and that seems like a pretty perfect birthday to me.

As an added bonus, the kids each helped me celebrate.  Natalia had a pretty good day.  I don't remember any crazy crying spells or her needing to be held excessively.  As an added bonus, she went all day without spitting up in my hair or down my shirt.  She is so stinkin' thoughtful.

Since our family parties all follow the same format, after dinner, I opened presents.  As the rest of us were finishing our meal, Ree slipped off.  Ree managed to unearth a gift bag and some tissue paper from the flotsam in her room, and she later presented me with a truly nice looking package.  She had wrapped up one of her stuffed animals, although I have to admit I'm not entirely sure who the gift was for.  It was from Abby Cadabby, and I think it was for Natalia.  Not sure how that fit in to my birthday, but it was still cute.

Although Chef Leon is the one always cooking, it was Michael who decided to bake for me.  On the morning of my birthday, he had out all of the kids' play food and was busy stirring and pouring.  He then put a tray into the oven in their play kitchen.  As he opened the over door, he warned everyone to "Stand back!" which is what Jeff and I say when we open the real oven.  He puttered around for a few minutes (cleaning?) before removing the tray.  He dutifully announced "Stand back!" again then presented me with a tray of cupcakes while singing "Happy Birthday."  The boy knows how to melt a mommy's heart.

Leon, my complete and total mama's boy, did little to celebrate other than help me open presents and eat my birthday cake.  I can't complain, though, because he is only two (my other kids are just freaks!) and he has actually been so helpful lately.  In addition to helping out, he is somewhat trying to potty train himself.  (I'm not expecting him to be done ANY time soon, but it's good to have hope.)  He just wants to do ALL the things the big brothers and sisters do in the books.  I hadn't thought much of his lack of celebration and then this morning, as I was getting him out of bed, he sang me "Happy Birthday" in its entirety.  I can only imagine he was practicing and making sure he really knew it.  Late birthday presents are great too.

The Parade

Two weekends my parents and I took ALL the kids for a walk.  We really needed one of those fancy two-tiered strollers like the preschools have.  With a double stroller and a wagon, I bet we looked silly.

Reality Check

I had forgotten how portable newborns are.  All they really need are extra diapers, a change of clothes, and mom, and they are good to go.  As a result, we have been taking Natalia out quite a bit.  I know there are those who would object to carting a newborn around in public, particularly during cold and flu season, but it's not like we're asking strangers to cough on her.  And let's face it - our house has a preschooler, two toddlers, and two dogs, and I don't get around to cleaning too often.  There is a good chance that Target is the most sterile environment she sees on a regular basis.

A couple of the outing have included dates for Jeff and me.  It may lack a certain romantic element when you accessorize with a diaper bag and choose your outfit based on what shows the least spit up, but it is always nice to get out without having to constantly pass crayons and cut up bites of food for the older siblings.  The week after Natalia was born, Jeff, Natalia, and I went out to dinner then we spent the night at my parents' apartment in town while my parents stayed at the house with the big kids and dogs.  That was a nice little getaway.  Last week the three of us went out to lunch and took Natalia to her two-week checkup at the pediatrician.  As an added bonus, for that outing I wore REAL clothes. 

That may not mean much to a lot of people, but women who have given birth probably understand the amazing feeling of putting on non-maternity clothes postpartum.  It is a momentous achievement to put on pants without elastic and a shirt not entirely shaped like a tent.  Now I'm not claiming I actually looked GOOD in my clothes for our date.  The pants were low-rise and still showed a bit, well, a lot, of muffin top, and the shirt hugged the, um, curves of my belly.  But given the size I was a few weeks ago, wearing an outfit where people would just wonder if I was preggers or really liked beer seemed to be a huge step in the right direction.

Thanks to an enormous surge in oxytocin and other happy chemicals released when breastfeeding, my general acceptance of my body has continued.  The weather has been warm and sunny the past few days, and yesterday I put on a regular pair of yoga pants and took Natalia for a walk.  As we were walking it occurred to me that I was within a couple of pounds of my highest weight in college.  As the runner's high kicked in (there are benefits to being out of shape - euphoria from just walking!), I started to feel all optimistic about the weight all coming off someday and was totally starting to love my body.  There are upsides to the postpartum hormonal rollercoaster.  But there is nothing like a preschooler to insert a little dose of reality into every situation.

Last night Ree was joking around, looked at my shirt, and said, "Hi, baby in the belly!"  I told her she was silly, pointed to her sister sitting across the room, and said the baby was out and that's why my belly wasn't big anymore.  Ree lifted my shirt, quickly studied my skin and said, "Mom, your belly is still big."  Doh!

Big Bro

We wouldn't have predicted it, but Leon has had the easiest time so far adjusting to the new baby.  He first showed signs of acceptance last summer when I brought home a book about being a new brother.  At the time, he was pretty resistant to new books.  When we went to the library, he would sort through all the board books and present me with a stack of books we already owned for me to check out.  When we introduced a new book at home, for the first few readings, Leon would play in the room while we read, getting closer and closer to the book each time.  By the third or fourth reading, he would finally sit down and look at the book.  But when the big brother book came in the door, he immediately plopped himself on the couch and wanted to hear it the first time we read it.  He knew this was important stuff.

At the time, Leon spent little time looking at books on his own, but he STUDIED the big brother book.  He paged through it over and over, naming everything and mumbling to himself.  He was going to learn everything about being a big brother.

But as the big day grew closer, both Ree and Michael showed much more interest in the idea of a new baby.  In fact, Leon started reverting, needing more and more cuddles from me as my belly grew increasingly larger.  By the last few days, he was practically draped on me every minute I was home, and I was starting to wonder if he wasn't trying to find a way to crawl back in the womb.

But since Natalia has arrived, Leon's desire to be a good helper and to properly fulfill big brother duties has taken over.  As soon as she came home from the hospital, he wanted to hold Natalia, although I could tell actually holding her clearly freaked him out.  Since then, he's limited himself to just giving her "cuddles," his term for bear hugs.  He has also started potty training, with no real prompting from us, and I think this is due to the fact that one of our books talks about older siblings using the potty.  More than anything, he studies everything we do and then assists as he deems necessary.

This generally involves him following behind me, "fixing" things.  Yesterday I found him mumbling to himself as he "repaired" the baby gear stashed all over our bedroom.  We had taken the toy bar off the bouncy seat and the tray off the swing since Natalia doesn't need either right now.  This was all wrong.  After he finished replacing the toy bar and tray, he looked much relieved and said something along the lines of "Done!" or "Better!"  As I tucked Natalia in tonight, I noticed a large pile of infant toys taken from various boxes and placed in the corner of her bassinet, and it was obviously the work on Leon.

Sometimes he is actually helpful.  Yesterday morning we were trying to get out the door, and I was running late and was a bit disorganized.  I had Natalia in the carrier part of her car seat and was about to leave when he reminded me that she needed a hat since it was cold out.  Good call on that one.

The thing that has surprised me the most, though, is how he has compared real life to his book.  For the first couple of days we were home, he kept running and getting me bottles and saying "New baby hungry."  It finally dawned on me that none of the books feature nursing mothers, and Leon thought I was starving his poor baby sister.  No wonder he was worried.  Such a thoughtful big brother.