Sunday Slivers, 8/15/10

Before we had Raya, I often heard other parents say cheerfully that when a second child is born, your love for the first child does not diminish, but you just grow another heart. Only one mom, not even a close friend, told me once, with something akin to sadness, that when a second child comes along, you just don't spend as much time with either child as you were used to spending with the first.

Ten months into this family-of-four deal, I find both statements above to be true; but I have to admit that I was not well prepared for the second. In a week when Raya boycotted every two out of three naps--falling asleep nursing, but waking up with a stiff body and a piercing shriek at the slightest attempt to put her in the crib--and I spent a lot of time either holding her as she slept or huddling on the floor next to her crib while she played and babbled and protested, I wished, more than once, that I was spending that time reading or playing with Sava instead. Not because I don't love nursing and holding Raya and hope I can do it for many more months; and not because I like being with Sava more. But simply because I find that there aren't enough hours in the day to spend all the alone time with each of my kids that, in an ideal world, I'd like to have.

Because Raya is the one with whom I can't possibly reason, I often find myself talking to Sava like the little adult that he pretends to be, explaining to him how it makes me sad that we can't spend more time together, how some day when Raya is "grown up" we all will be playing and reading together, how this baby thing is just a phase, and how when he was small we spent a lot of time holding him and caring for him just as we do with Raya. Then at the end of the day when I think back on those conversations (or monologues, rather), I often wonder, Who do you think you are talking to? Do you really expect a four-year old to understand and empathize with your absurd parental guilt? Instead of apologizing, why not just spend more time with him?


Which brings me back to the beginning: I don't know how to spend enough time with each of them, and when I am with one, I constantly think about the other.

And this is the part for which no one prepared me, really: that yes, I'll grow another heart, but no, having two hearts will not make it easier to give each child the attention that I feel they need; it's two hearts in one body, and the body still can't be in two places at the same time--at least not when one child needs the breast, and the other wants to build with legos. I don't know how mamas of three or more kids do it. They must have a special something that I definitely don't. This loving of two is already killing me.

Of the few pictures taken this week, I particularly like these two, which epitomize beautifully the current dynamic in our family. Each of us talking to one kid, oblivious of the other two--

Or the two of us talking while the kids try to engage each other--

I look forward to the day when instead of this "divide and conquer" tableau, we can see a picture of all of us playing and talking together; but until that day comes, seeing the kids getting to know each other pretty much makes my day--

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In other news, besides botched naps, and failed attempts to feed Raya purees with meat concealed in it, which she staunchly refused with a disgusted expression suggestive of profound outrage, we managed to sneak in a few playdates with good friends--

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The real highlight of our week was the Friday celebration of Sava's last day in the 3-4s room at Children's Corner, where he has thrived and blossomed this whole past year. It would be hard to explain how much we love this school, and how grateful we are to everyone there, especially teacher Laura, whose thoughtful and caring love for Sava made it possible for him to break out of the shell of reserve and fearfulness with which he first stepped into the classroom. He loves going to school now, and it warms our heart to see him interacting with peers and teachers like any other kid--

Friday's celebration included the singing of four songs, which I felt sure Sava would watch from the sidelines, since only a month ago, teacher Laura told us that he was still loath to sing with everybody else; his explanation, as I've noted before, is that he does not sing as well as other kids. Well, y'all, check this out, and note that on the third song of the first clip ("the more we get together") the loud(ish) voice out of sync is Sava's! It would be fair to say that the grin on my face while filming this made my cheeks ache for the rest of the day--

As the saying goes, "One small step for humanity, one giant leap for Sava."
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And lastly, some random photos of our smiley gremlin; to her small credit, and in slight justification for being a pain in the neck this whole week, we saw just today the first tiny protrusion of her third tooth. Also, I have not made a good picture of it yet, but the bruising from the laser of the hemangioma has faded almost completely, and in its place we can see areas that have definitely diminished in redness from before the treatment; it's not all gone by any means, but when we go places now, I can tell by the look on people's faces that much of the time they are not even aware of the hemangioma--

She is also really into clapping lately, and will do it with minimal prompting and always with great enthusiasm when we tell her "good job!" at the conclusion of a meal; she loves to applaud Sava when he is singing, too--