Ryan’s first tooth has been loose for a few weeks, and he has been very adamant about letting it fall out on its own.  I have checked it every night since I’ve been back in town.  Last night it felt like I could have pulled it out, but he didn’t want me to.   

Ryan brushes his teeth on his own, and then when he’s done I do a follow-up.  I am usually in the bathroom with him when he starts, but tonight I was helping Cole in the other room.  When I got into the bathroom, Ryan was finishing his teeth and I took his toothbrush, like I always do.  He stopped me so he could spit out the toothpaste he had in his mouth.  As soon as I started brushing, I saw the blood and stopped.  I told him his tooth had fallen out!

Cole immediately started to cry- he seems to have a thing about teeth and the Tooth Fairy, but that’s another story.  I asked Ryan if the tooth was in his mouth.  He put his hand in his mouth and then saw the blood on his hand and started to cry too.  I have been telling him for weeks when he loses his tooth, it will bleed for a little bit.  Evidently, that prepping didn’t help.  I gave him a washcloth, and tried to calm him down.  I asked him if the tooth was in his mouth, and he said no.  He was scared we couldn’t find his tooth.

I felt so sorry for him.  He said a first grader had told him just today that his sister swallowed her tooth and she died.  So I reassured him no less than twenty times, that swallowing a tooth will not cause you to die.  It finally dawned on me that he probably had spit it out with his toothpaste, right before I started brushing his teeth, because he never swallows toothpaste. 

If I were handy with a wrench, I would try to take the sink apart to see if I could find it.  It is his first baby tooth after all.  But considering I’ve never done that before, this probably isn’t the best time to try to figure out a project like that.  

So we will not have his first baby tooth to give to the Tooth Fairy tonight.  Ryan arranged his pillows special, so she won’t have any trouble leaving him some money.  On a side note, I have been trying to decide what the going rate is for the Tooth Fairy is these days.  Ryan seems happy when he gets a quarter, but also knows paper money is worth more, so I think he will be very happy with $2 for his first tooth.  I plan to tell him subsequent teeth only bring in $1. 

Here is Ryan with his brand new smile:

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Last summer, the boys’ daycare provider closed her daycare.  Cole had been with her since he had been 18 months old.  She loved the boys, and the boys loved her.  We have always been fortunate and thankful the boys’ grandmother can watch the boys on the long days I work.  

On the shorter days, Ryan is in school now, so I had to find part-time care for Cole and back-up care.   When I found J., our previous provider, it was a little easier because I had two kids that needed care.  Finding part-time care for one child, was a challenge-most providers don’t accept part-time kids.  It took me almost two months to find an acceptable replacement.    

In late November, I found A., who was willing to take Cole on a part-time basis, and to provide back-up care when the boys’ grandmother isn’t available.  When we met A., I had both boys with me, and Cole was happy as a clam.  There was another boy who was also 3, who attended full-time, so Cole would have a friend to play with.  They played great together while we were there for our interview, and everything seemed and felt right. 

But every time it is time to go to A’s, Cole cries.  He says he doesn’t like it, and he wants me to stay home with him.  Last week he asked me why I have to go to work. I haven’t experienced “mommy guilt,” on a regular basis, but the past few months it hits me every time I take him to A.’s. Last week he cried for 20 minutes when I dropped him off.  It wasn’t just a tear- he was sobbing.  I felt like I was sending him off to war. 

Part of it is he has never done anything on his own without Ryan.  Whenever he has been away from myself or his dad, Ryan has been with him, or he was in the care of his grandparents.  Part of it is he doesn’t attend day care full time, so it makes the adjustment harder.  Part of it is he is 3.  It is a hard age for changes. 

A. has been great.  I have no qualms about the care she is giving Cole.  She has done daycare for 25 years, and is very capable and loving.  She told me last week Cole almost has fun, if he would just let himself go.  She said it is like he starts to have fun, and the “remembers” he isn’t supposed to like being there, so he gets upset.  Last week we made a few changes, and I was actually greeted with a smiling boy when I picked him up.  A. switched their art days to times when Cole would be there.  He had painted two pictures, and was so proud. We also let him decide if he wanted to take a nap, or just have quiet resting time.  The choice seemed to give Cole a little control.

When we got home, I gave Cole some tape and told him he could hang the picture anywhere he wanted.  He hung it right above my bed.  I realized that he was so proud he had something to bring home.  Ryan brings home enough papers, drawings, books, and artwork to open a gallery.   Cole never seemed to be bothered by this, but I think he liked having something he brought home.

The boys ask me what we are doing the next day at bedtime.  When I have told Cole the next day was a day at A.’s, he would cry.  Last night he didn’t cry.  This morning he wasn’t stressed and didn’t cry in the car on the way over, but he did want me to hold his hand as we walked up to her door. 

A little girl in the daycare throws her arms around Cole the minute we walk in, and usually Cole stands as stiff as a board.  Today he hugged her back.  He asked me what colors I liked, because he was going to make me another picture.  I told him, gave him a hug, and then he left me to go play with the other little boy.  When I picked him up, he was so proud to show me that he had made me two pictures.  One of them was a hot pink lizard with a red tongue.  He said he made it pink, because that is a girl color.  When we got home, he hung it up right next to his picture from last week.

It is one of the hardest things to have to leave your child, when they are crying at daycare.  It is hard when they are happy, but at least you can tell yourself they are having a good time while you are gone.  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if things didn’t improve.  It didn’t feel right to have Cole so upset when it was time to go to A.’s, but I also don’t have a lot of options.  I’m relieved that it doesn’t appear that I will have face that issue.

Having your child make a change out of necessity, whether it is day care, or because a new sibling is born, etc. is tough.  But it also gives the child a sense of accomplishment, as they adjust.  Sometimes it takes longer than we would like, but more often than not, they get there.  As parents, we don’t always have all the answers.  At times you just have to listen to your instincts, go with what you think is best, and hope it turns out okay for everyone involved.     

As Cole handed me my painting today with a big, happy, smile on his face, I was so proud of him.  He’s adjusting to daycare as he needs to, and in his own way- today was the turning point, and a milestone for him.  He will be fine.  And I will always have one very special pink lizard painting-to remind me.   

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This morning, my baby boy (who isn’t a baby any more) turns six!  It seems every year I am amazed at how fast the time has gone by.  I look back at Ryan’s baby pictures, and can’t quite comprehend where that baby went.  It also seems his baby days were over in an instant.  When I think back to those first few months with a newborn, it didn’t seem possible that really, in a blink of an eye, he would ever be six. 

One of my most cherished memories of Ryan was on the day we came home from the hospital.  I had been in the hospital for five days because I had some complications from a C-section.  The hospital was a hustle and bustle, and there was always someone coming and going, or a nurse in the room checking either on Ryan or myself.  I had so much pain, bonding with Ryan had been hard- I was trying to learn how to take care of him, and manage my pain.   

We came home in the afternoon, and Ryan’s dad left to get some food.  For the first time, it was Ryan and I at home, by ourselves.  I was sitting in a glider, just having finished nursing him, and he was asleep in that happy little milk coma, newborns fall into.  He had a little smile on his face while he was sleeping and his head fit in the palm my hand.  His body was not longer than my arm up to my elbow.  I remember just sitting there and looking at him, and I fell in love with him in that moment.  I had tears running down my face because of the feelings I felt for him- all 7 pounds of him!

So to Ryan, six years later-I love you more than I could ever even imagined that afternoon.  You are simply amazing, and I learn so much from you every day.  At six, you love routine and order.  You love playing school (you are the teacher of course) and you like playing pharmacy (you are the pharmacist- of course).  I am very happy that you love school and learning so much.  You are becoming quite the reader, and enjoy reading to us.  

You are discovering sports and have played soccer and basketball during the last year.  You keep asking when you get to play baseball, and you can throw a baseball really well.  If I had to make a prediction, I think baseball is going to be your sport. 

Your favorite food is a tie between ice cream and macaroni and cheese, but you are trying more and more foods.  You also like spaghetti, ham, and chicken.   Your favorite breakfast is Cinnamon Life and waffles.  You would drink a gallon of milk a day if you could.

You ask a lot of questions now too!  The other day you were asking so many about football, for so long, I asked you if you could stop asking questions for a few minutes, and you asked “Why, questions are good.” 

Even at six, the love and patience you show your younger brother, Cole, is touching.  You think about him, and are concerned with his well being.  As we were taking down the Christmas tree, Cole was crying because he was sad Christmas was over.  You went up to him, and put your arm around his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry buddy- I know it is sad, but Christmas will be here next year, and Santa will bring us new presents.” 

With examples like this, I often think you are much older than you are- sometimes you seem like a little old man trapped in a much younger body.  That first afternoon at home with you, I loved you because you were my baby.  I had no idea who you were, what your personality was like, or who you would become.  Six years has gone by so fast Ryan, but every day, a little bit more of your personality gets reveled.  It is a joy to watch this, and I am so lucky and fortunate I am your mom.  

For the next six years, I plan to make sure you do your “job.”  You like to know what people’s jobs are, and sometimes you become too concerned with adult issues.  So your job is to be a little boy, to play, to have fun, to do well at school, and most importantly- eat ice cream.

Happy Sixth Birthday, Ryan.  I love you!!

1/16/04- 10 days old

October, 2009- Kindergarten picture

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I have chosen up to this point not to write about any aspects of my divorce.  I have had many reasons for choosing not to write about this subject.  Many of those reasons are still in place, and one of these reasons was, I didn’t see what good or what positive aspects could come from blogging about a divorce. 

This past Christmas was the first Christmas where Ryan and Cole’s time was divided between their father and I.  It was also the last holiday, since we have been apart, that we had to face, and also it is the “biggest.”  Christmas is all the holidays rolled into one, and then some- especially for children.  My boys start asking in July when Christmas is coming.  As a parent, there is nothing quite like seeing your children’s face’s light up with excitement on Christmas morning when they see the tree and the presents under it.  It is the epitome of childhood.

And the fact of being divorced is, one parent isn’t going to experience that every year.  Some divorced parents switch off years,  and some divide the time.  We decided to try to keep things as they had been in the past this year, so the boys spent Christmas Eve with me, and my family.   Ryan and Cole got to visit with my mom, who lives out of state, and their great-grandpa, who moved to Colorado this year.  Their two teen-aged cousins wrestled and rough-housed with them, which they loved and they helped them make a gingerbread house.  Of course there were a lot of presents, but for the first time, I noticed the boys were more interested in playing with people than playing with the gifts all night.   Their dad came and got them later at night on Christmas Eve, and then the boys spent Christmas with him and his family. 

After the boys had left my aunt’s house on Christmas Eve, I cried.  I haven’t cried over any holiday, but there was something very isolating, and hollow not having my children with me for this holiday.  My tears didn’t last long, because I knew the boys were going to have fun, and they were fine.  They were excited about Santa coming in the morning.  It obviously helped that I was around my immediate family too. 

On Christmas Day, I missed the boys terribly.  I imagined they were having fun, and that is what mattered.  That evening the boys called me and my heart melted when Ryan excitedly told me on the phone, “Mom, I had the best day!”  He explained what he had done, and the gifts he had received.  A part of me was sad, because I had not been a part of his day, but he was happy.  He wasn’t sad, asking where I had been, or why we couldn’t be together, or any of those type of things.  I talked to Cole, and he was happy and excited too. 

The good I think can come from sharing this experience is, despite the difficulties divorce brings, especially with children, all that mattered on Christmas was that Ryan and Cole were happy, and had the best Christmas ever.  Perhaps that says something about our Christmases past, but I think it says more about all the members of the families involved- on both sides.  All the grandparents, all the aunts, all the uncles, and all of the cousins. 

When my children are grown, I don’t want them to look back at the holidays and remember “that was my year with Mom, or that was my year with Dad.”  I want them to remember the joy, the happiness, the excitement, and the love they received from and felt for their families.  I know that was accomplished throughout the last year, and especially this Christmas Eve and Christmas. 

Thank you to all members of both Ryan and Cole’s family for this.  It could have been a very hard holiday for them, but it wasn’t.  It was magical and loving for them- just as it should be.

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My kids are pretty good about not begging, or whining for things.  But they are kids, and they have their methods of operations.

Ryan is very persistent when he has his eye on something and will mention it several times- he never forgets anything.  He seems to just wear me down over time.  He doesn’t whine, but just never drops the subject. 

Cole looks at me with his big, blue, eyes and smiles at me, and it gets me every time. Good thing he isn’t at an age where he is asking for more than goldfish crackers for his snack right now.

A few days ago Ryan mentioned in passing that his school was having a book fair, and there was a pointer he really liked.  He said we could go on Thursday.  It didn’t really register at the time, so I told him we’d talk about it on Thursday.

Today when he came home from school he told me that we were going to the book fair tonight- it was the last night, they were open until eight, and he needed the pointer for his “classroom.” He added, “Please Mom,” which he never does. 

Ryan loves playing school.  On the days he doesn’t have school, he has played school for eight hours straight.  He has lesson plans, reading, music classes, hall passes- everything.  So when he said this pointer was for his class, I asked him to tell me about it.  He said it was a pointer so he could read and point to the words in his books and so he could teach the kids in his class.  I told him I’d think about it.

When it was time for dinner, Ryan said we had to hurry up to eat so we could get to the book fair before eight.   I was torn.  I don’t want to give into my kids every time they want something.  On the other hand, it is so innocent.  He wasn’t asking for an $80 video game- he wanted something to enhance his school play.  While I was debating the pros and cons, he started crying and said if he didn’t get the pointer, he was never going teach again!  So dramatic!

I explained to him that we don’t throw fits when we don’t get what we want.  I told him if he stopped that behavior, I would keep thinking about it, and let him know after dinner.  Of course he stopped crying right away, and I told him after dinner we would go check out the book fair. 

When we walked into the library, his eyes lit up and he said, “Come here Mom, and I’ll show the pointers.”  I guess I was expecting a little laser pointer, or something with a little light on the end of it, and it took everything I had not to start laughing when I saw what my son had his heart set on:

I told him and Cole they could each get one, and they both stood there for several minutes deciding which color pointer to get.  It was very cute and evidently, very important. 

I remember when I was Ryan’s age- that time in childhood when playing and make-believe is your biggest worry.  Those times go so fast- they are almost gone for Ryan.  I looked at how innocent and care-free both my boys are right now, and know it won’t always be this way for them.  Childhood is gone in a blink of an eye.   One day, that will be here sooner than I think, we will have much bigger issues to face than pointers at the book fair.  

Ryan and Cole may never remember the pointers, but I will.  For now those pointers delay the inevitable a bit, and help keep my children, children just a little longer.

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