Time immediately speeds up once you have a kid. It’s just the way of things. This is, of course, in addition to the usual acceleration of time that happens as we age. And, too, time starts to have a different meaning. Two years was an entirely different conceptual chunk of time before Ansel was born, you know?
But there also seem to be these hyper drive times, when the fast forward button gets pressed on your life, and in the space of a day or night, a leap has occurred. Listen, I’m not into Doctor Who (don’t hate me, just didn’t happen. I like other nerd stuff, promise) but this is what I think of when I hear the phrase timey-wimey stuff.
Well, that thing . . .the warp drive thing . . .it happened. Somehow, in just a week or so, my kid went from like a regular old two to TWO+ © Like, I can’t quantify it, but he’s a different kind of two year old now. The phrase “big boy” kind of chafes me because it’s so, you know, done . . . but we have been using it on the recommendation of the potty training book we are reading, to try and create a distinction between those who pee in diapers (babies) and those who pee in potties (big kids) so I’m trying to get on board. But the thing is, I really feel like my kid is doing big kid things (in a relative sort of way) and it’s weird. And wonderful. But weird because it happened so fast!
I mean, there are some things that are out of his purview that are contributing to this . . .Like, we bought him a balance bike (thanks to his clear interest in bikes and wheel stuff) and he LOVES it and looks like a total natural walking around with it; and we signed him up for a co-op preschool in Tacoma (which is NBD for lots of folks because of daycare/preschool necessity, but since our experience has been with babysitters/family/L at home, it feels kind of huge.)
But there are all of these little, unquantifiable things that make him seem . . .older, bigger . . .something . . .The kinds of words he’s using (lightrail, coin) and how he’s talking to people (“Dada, go away!” “Chikie for me AND Yellow!”) the ways he’s playing (with other kids, not just next to them; using different voices for his toys; being even braver and fearless when approaching the huge windy slides and the rope climbing walls and all of the other playground equipment made for children twice his age) and how he is interacting with us, “Here glasses, Mama.” “Where is Mommy? Let’s get her!”, giving kisses when we are hurt – when he’s the cause, and when he’s not; showing a level of empathy he didn’t seem to have before) I’m like . . .oh, you’re a fully integrated human being now . . .shit.
I’m sure we’ll soon be settling into this leap soon, just as we have before. And then there will be another super jump that will make my head spin . . .over, and over. I don’t feel sad that he is growing up – although I miss his tininess and his rolls and the smell of baby-Ansel, I do not feel grief for his becoming a child. But, it does feel a little unsettling, dizzying, and very, very sacred. I continue to be so excited to see who he will become, I’m waiting so eagerly to watch him emerge. Some things he has kept – charm, sensitivity, joy, physical exuberance and a fearless charging into the world. Other things, he’s left behind. I wonder what he’ll continue to carry forward?
And as for our tiniest Tiny . . .L had an intake appointment with the OB in Tacoma a couple of weeks ago. (Side note: they made her do a standard intake with an LPN for her first appointment. This is clearly just how they do things, but it was super annoying in our case. The visit was to include a pregnancy test – which thankfully got skipped since she’s, you know, 32 weeks pregnant – and was basically the most non-appointment appointment possible. It basically just delayed us meeting the actual doctor for another two weeks. UGH.) We didn’t get to meet the actual OB because of the type of appointment, but she did have a pre- E panel done (all clear – no protein, everything normal) and her BP was totally normal. Actual appointment with a doctor where we can ask questions is this Friday . . . at which point I’m hoping to be able to get a little more detail about what we can expect. We both feel a little whiplash right now . . .going from red alert to eh, whatever within a few weeks has left us pretty confused. Is 37 weeks still recommended for induction? Do we even need to be concerned? Who knows!?
We also have a biophysical profile with a Maternal-Fetal Medicine doctor scheduled for Weds the 19th, at which point we’ll have some additional information about if Tiny has grown and what all of that might mean. At this point, we are assuming things are ok – BP has continued to be good, no further indication of pre-eclampsia, and he’s moving well – so all signs we have point to things being OK. I hope we only continue to get confirmation of that, and that all of this scare was just that – a scare.
In any case, she’s at 32w4d, so every passing day makes me feel a little more at ease, anyway . . .
AND, finally . . .we are down to just EIGHT DAYS until we finally leave behind our stinky, ugly, pain in the ass rental and get to move into our beautiful new house. It’s been SO HARD not to be there, but we’ve been able to move a lot down ourselves, slowly and easily, and that’s definitely a nice thing. We purchased some new living room furniture (the only thing the 4th of July is good for, IMO, is the great deal we got on a new couch) which will be delivered later this week and then the rest of our stuff will go down next Thursday. L’s mom flies in on Saturday to be the wonder-woman that she is and help us get the final details done (moving + painting + toddler = slowest process ever) I’ll be so glad to end this geographical limbo.
Tacoma, we are SO ready for you!