Smelling the future

Raising two little boys is very complex. I never really knew what I was getting myself into and it's probably a good thing. There are so many things to observe and wonder or worry, really, if it's normal. I feel like I am constantly conducting field research on some intense scientific mission. Is it normal for my 20 month old to call most animals dogs and then provide the correct correlating sound? For example, Will sees a cat out the window, points and says "Dowg. Neow." I say, very slowly and exaggerated "No. Caaat." "Dowg. Neow." Clearly, this cannot be good. Then to cause further confusions, he will point to the horses in the bedroom and say "Dowg." I'll say "No, horses." He grabs his belly, throws his head back, and laughs hysterically as he makes a "neeeeeheeeey." So, maybe he's just a comic genius?! Which is it?

It doesn't help going for routine check-ups either. At least our current pediatrician is very reassuring, but I need to know why they give us a check list of milestones and then say "Oh, if he's not doing them all, it's okay." Well, why list them at all? Can someone please tell me. Two months ago, he was in for his 18 month check up, the only one I couldn't check was "Can your child remove his own shoes?" Are they kidding me? Will loves his shoes. He wants to sleep in them. At that point, there was never any effort to take them off, only put them on. I had to check no. Yesterday, he was trying to get his "new" tennis shoes off (Carter's old ones) and was struggling. I immediately began to worry. It's almost two months later and he can't take his shoes off! I began to help him get them off, and 8 minutes later I wondered, "If it's this hard for his adult mother to get his shoes off, how is he ever supposed to get them off without help?" And don't we fasten the shoes in such a manner as to discourage them taking them off??? My head is starting to hurt.

On top of worrying about developmental issues (and I'm not even going to get into Carter refusing to learn his numbers at home but comes home from school and voila! knows them all!), there is the burden of unknown potential. I see Baby Will learning things every day and I wonder where his talents will lie. Will he be artistic and dramatic like Carter (though I suppose he can't escape the drama with his genetic combination) or will he be more scientific or more athletic? Maybe none of them. This is where guilt comes in. If you are reading this and you are not a parent, you must be aware that you will need to clear off some space on your shoulders to hold all the guilt you must bear as a parent of small children. Sometimes I feel like every single decision I make for Carter and Will every day is going to have some long term effect on them. For example, if I let them eat McDonalds, they will never eat vegetables again, become overweight, sedentary, and thus having a difficult time in life because we are prejudiced against the obese. But wait, then I say, "Carter, be sure to eat your vegetables and don't eat too much candy because you don't want to be like Augustus Gloop." Thereby causing him to be prejudice. See, you just can't win. I just want him to be as healthy as he can be!! So, you try to think of better ways to say it and reinforce it but still, who knows how it will take root and grow.

And this guilt isn't just with what they are eating. Oh no! It's far reaching into every activity. Will loves to look at books. He could do it for hours. HOURS. Honestly, after about 10 - 15 books, I'm done. We can't just read them. We have to look discerningly at eat picture. Name every single thing in it and what color it is and then turn back to the previous page and remember what was on there before we can move forward. So, I want to set boundaries and limits, but what if turning him down on that last book scars him for life?? What if he never wants me to read to him again? You may think I'm crazy, but I risk it. I just flat out say "No Will. Mama is tired and has to do some chores." I just throw caution to the wind. And probably his full ride to an Ivy League school. Sometimes I think my kids are genius, like yesterday when Carter re-enacted the entire Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, including song and choreography, for my mother in her hospital room. Other times, you wonder about them. Like yesterday when Carter re-enacted the entire Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Of course, I could do the same thing with The Sound of Music when I was child and I turned out okay, didn't I?! Don't answer that.

So, what makes it all worth while? The smell. It's the smell from Will's head when he sits in my lap. It's straight from heaven. Unless he needs a diaper change and then its seem it comes more from the other direction. But any other time, there is this indescribable, wonderful baby smell that is just natural. Carter has kind of grown out of it. They both smell wonderful after a bath, but Will emits this sweet, musky aroma even when he's not freshly bathed. I've talked about defense mechanisms God installs in all new babies; this is one of them. It comes standard with all new baby deliveries. When he sits in my lap, and his downy soft hair brushes against my cheek and I get a whiff of his sweetness, THAT is what makes me read the whole shelf of books to him. It is also a sedative and medicinal, and an anti-depressant and an opiate. It lulls one into a state of lowered defenses where one might, briefly, think another baby wouldn't be such a bad thing. Very briefly.