Saturday, August 17, 2013

Conversations with Atticus

Who knew that a seemingly-mundane trip to Target could yield such entertaining results? Atticus has been making really great choices lately, from becoming fully potty-trained to displaying stellar behavior when returning to school this week, so I decided to reward him with a new toy. The trip to the store provided so much insight into my little man's personality, that I just had to share this series of events with you.

It all began on the short drive over. I tuned into one Pandora station or another without really thinking and pulled out of the driveway. Now, I should note that Atticus loves music. If I forget to turn the radio on, even for a short trip, he will demand to hear "songs." His latest favorite is "Lakehouse" by Of Monsters and Men, because it's simple enough for him to recognize and the refrain, "where we are, where we are" is easy for him to sing along to. Well, an Of Monsters and Men song came on Pandora and Atticus said, "Mommy, I want the other song like this." Not knowning what he meant,  he started singing "where we are, where we are" until it clicked. I know that this may not seem like a magic moment, but those of you that know us well know that there are few things in our lives as important and influential as music. And for a just-turned-three-year-old to recognize the similarities between two songs by the same artist...let's just say it's impressive. And as soon as I started the song, he recognized the guitar riff at the intro and immediately thanked me. That would have been enough to blog about, really. I was immensely proud of this guy, especially when he started singing along in key, but this was just the beginning. I linked a live performance (on Seattle's KEXP) of the song below so you can check it out. It's pretty catchy.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Learning to Worry

We've known for a while that Quinn was likely going to have surgery to remove his enlarged adenoids, but today we got the official green light to go ahead with the procedure next Friday. Anyone who's met Quinn knows that he's a NOISY little man. Because his adenoids are so large, it's blocking his airway and the breaths he takes are rattly, strained, and snotty. The surgery itself is remarkably routine. Even though our dude is only 8 months old, it's an outpatient procedure with a quick 2-4 day recovery (if his tonsils were also being removed, it would be longer). Nevertheless, I find myself slightly terrified simply because I think that's what parents are supposed to feel when their babies go under the knife. But this worry is a relatively new experience for me, a learned behavior.

When Atticus was born, I didn't experience the fear that most first-time parents feel. Perhaps it was my years as a nanny and preschool teacher, but caring for a newborn didn't frighten me. I knew that mothers had been tending to their young somewhat successfully since the dawn of humanity and that it's actually never been easier or safer to be a parent. Diaper, change, feed, try not to drop them on their heads, repeat. It was straightforward enough that once Brian overcame the jitters of the first few days, we were passing the kid back and forth like a football with one hand. We weren't the type to call the pediatrician at 3am because munchkin had the sniffles and when it came to babyproofing, we didn't. Of course, we put the bleach and household cleaners in the higher cabinets and pushed the knife block to the back of the countertop, but that was about it. And you know what? He survived! Sure, he bumped his head on the coffee table a few times and probably poked his eye once or twice with sticks he found in the backyard (Atticus had a thing for sticks), but he came out of the clumsy stages of toddlerhood relatively unscathed. And Brian and I enjoyed parenting instead of worrying about every little microbe that could potentially sicken him, every hazard that could break his leg.