This summer has been, well – totally summer. While I’ve felt pangs of slackerness in my posting schedule, I just decided right in the beginning that I was giving myself a pass. I knew I was going to post infrequently and decided I didn’t need to issue any apology or the like because I’m certain no one is looking for one. You are enjoying your summers, I assume, and are hopefully staying off the screens as well. I feel like winter is great for writing and reading. Summer is spending time with Roan. Summer is eating up the two little mush-mouth-slobbery-smiley boys that clamor for me. Summer is cozying up next to my husband after the wee young lads are put to bed, and hearing him tell me all about Ancient Aliens. Summer is gorgeous and I have to wonder sometimes why I live here in NYC where it just ends way too soon*.
*(It’s because I love NYC so, and cannot live anywhere else; but that’s not to say I don’t yearn for a better climate. All my California peeps, I’m looking at you with envy.)
But I do want to catch up with you.
My two tiny masters, Sheppard and Smith just passed their nine-month exam with flying colors. Heights and weights are pretty much where they should be, they’re eating a variety of different foods, and the doc? Well she told me I should run a course on sleep training, when I told her they go to bed at 6:30 pm, wake at 3:00 am for about 20 minutes to be breastfed, then sleep again until 6:30 am.
And they’ve been doing that for pretty much four months.
I mean, I did get lambasted by many sleep-training protesters when I began with the training and I’m not trying to stir anything up here. I’m just saying to the people of the world: it works. My boys are awesome sleepers during the night and also during the day. They were not this way naturally, and all it took was a little guidance from their Pops and their Ma, and they became right as rain within a few days. And they still smile and feel loved and laugh like a couple of maniacs. There has been no downside.
Moving on…Sheppard and Smith. Those two guys.
They’ve each cut their top and bottom two teeth. Shep is working on the next pair of teeth. They crawl everywhere, without fear. They pull up on anything, literally – anything. My legs, a swivel chair, a cord hanging off curtains, whatever will offer them a tiny bit of leverage. Sometimes they’ll let go, and they fall hard and they fall often. Shep loves electrical cords, Smith favors trying to crawl off high places (couch, bed, etc.) They both light up from the inside and shine when their big brother Roan plays with them. They do adore Roan, and the feeling seems to be mutual.
Roan has impressed me every day of his little brother’s lives. He has yet to get angry with them or show any type of jealousy. He does ask for time off, on occasion – from the unending favors I ask of him, and I try to grant him a reprieve when he needs it. I was told over and over that having new babies in the house wouldn’t change my love for Roan, and it hasn’t. I love him still like he’s my only one. And I love Smith like he’s my only one. And I love Sheppard like he’s my only one.
The way I feel about my sons can only be explained with dumb words that just don’t fully get there. I absolutely adore them, and am confident that should I live to be ten-thousand years old, being their mother is the thing that I will be best at in my life. Not that I’m any different or better than any random mother in the world. It’s just the thing I love to do, and it’s the only thing I’ve ever done where my instincts just override everything. It’s a primal and fierce thing to be a mother, and I feel both primal and fierce in my love for my boys.
Oh yeh, and I’ve eaten a lot of popsicles this summer, too. That’s also primal. No denying that.