Swimming in new waters

Went to the pool one evening this week. Aiden has been getting a little bolder about getting in the water, for which I've been grateful.

At the pool several weeks ago, we ran into his friend Joey, a couple years older than Aiden, and he proceeded to show off to Aiden how well he could jump into the water, and swim. I'm not sure if it was a male thing, or just a competitive thing, or a personality thing - maybe all three ( and maybe it is foolish to try to differentiate/separate these things)- but suddenly, Aiden's tentative movements in the water ( and pleas to get out and go in the kiddie pool) gave way to more daring ones, even going so far as to actually jump and submerge his head underwater. I was expecting more of the same this week as we trotted over to the steps that lead down into the pool...but shortly after his initial splashings were done, he got out and proceeded to launch himself, with radical abandon, from the edge of the pool...fearlessly flinging himself into the water over and over. He probably did this for over half an hour at least. Of course, he was wearing floaties and so every time he plunged in, he immediately popped up like a cork. But it left me totally incredulous and stunningly proud. At his age...well, I don't have many memories of my life at three and a half years old, but judging from my memories of a few years later, I know I was not this courageous. I liked playing in the water, but I hated "going under." I think I was 20 years old before I got up the courage to jump off a diving board. Even today, jumping into a pool takes some mental preparation. (Yes, I am a wimp.) Aiden wanted me to jump in with him, and if the pool had been just a little deeper, I don't think I would have. Being in water over my head just gives me the hibbly jibblies. But I did jump. Well, okay, not jump exactly...but allow myself to step into the water from the edge of the pool, next to my wildly flailing son.

Just thinking about it all now, I feel dazed...and a little breathless...but mostly grateful. Grateful that my child has already surpassed me in one aspect of courage. Grateful that he is already more comfortable in the water than I am.

It makes me realize in a fresh way that this child is not just an extension of myself. I once read something about child development that mentioned something about babies seeing their mothers as extensions of themselves...or maybe it was themselves as extensions of their mothers...I can't remember exactly now. But vitally connected as one entity, in any case. I don't know about him - but this experience revealed to me that I'm the one who unconsciously felt as if he was an extension or continuation of me. As I watched him repeatedly hurling himself into the water, I felt suddenly awakened to the fact that he is his own person - completely separate from me. He has strengths and abilities that I will never have. He will tackle challenges of which I never dreamed.

This has been a summer where his baby ties have been snapping left and right - from finally being successful at potty training to becoming a big brother. My heart simultaneously rejoices and breaks.

Putting Aiden to work

Must document this milestone: today, Aiden uttered these words: " Mama, I'm bored." Oh horrors. I thought three year olds never got bored. Their brains are too fertile for that. It struck fear into my heart. Bored children get into trouble. Bored children need structure and challenges... and this at a time when my creativity seems to be at an all time low - just when I need it most! In desperation, I roped him into what I happened to be doing at the moment: washing dishes. The absolute NADIR of domestic chores. (No wait- that would be cleaning the hair out of the shower drain. Hmmm...how can I get him to do THAT?) I leaped on the idea that since playing in the sink or bathtub with toys is fun, that washing dishes is a close cousin to that enjoyable past-time. I feel like some sort of nefarious trickster. I taught him how to do wash dishes under the guise of FUN. Oh, I am a wicked woman.

This all comes on the heels of harnessing the capitalist/entrepreneurial spirit yesterday when I offered him a dime to clear the table after dinner. ( Oooo- I know. A dime. Wow. Sweat shop management, here I come. ) He was hankering after the bouncy ball collection of his friend and neighbor Joey, and I suggested that he could earn some money so that next time we go to Walmart, he could buy his own bouncy ball. I have never seen a table get cleared so fast. It was truly miraculous, but not without some hazards - falling silverware etc. It made me smile; I had thought he might be too young for this kind of incentive program, but lo, the capitalist spirit shows up strong at even this tender age. Well, really, it's more of the acquisitive spirit, and that knows no age barrier. This child is the most nakedly materialistic person I have met in my life - he wants almost EVERYTHING he sees that isn't already his. It's a little exhausting. ( Reminds me of this engraving by William Blake.) But anyway, he finished his chore with amazing speed and looked up at me eagerly and said, "Can I have my diamond now?" I had to laugh. From dimes to diamonds. If only! Good luck putting THAT in the bouncy ball machine at Walmart!

My poor baby

We just returned from Aiden's first visit to the dentist. Brad can take him to every single appointment in the future.

It started out with normal issues of wriggling and not opening wide enough for the technician to cram the x-ray plates in his mouth... The cleaning went fine, but then when the main dentist arrived to address my concerns with one of his front teeth which was showing a gray discoloration, the real nightmare began.

Apparently, some time in the last couple months, Aiden fell and bonked his mouth on something - not too hard to believe, considering he is a three year old. Well, according to the 2 X-rays that the technician was able to take, his front two teeth were fractured, enough for one of them to sustain damage to the root...and an infection had set in, which could negatively affect the adult tooth behind it...so the dentist declared that we pull the infected tooth. WHAT?! He's barely three years old! After my initial shock, I arranged for the extraction to happen immediately. They said they couldn't sedate him because he had already eaten breakfast, but they would have to use a local anesthetic, with a "papoose board" for "behavior management." So basically, they were going to strap him down. Greeaat. It just gets better and better.

And then they told me that I had to wait in the waiting room. That reduced me to tears. I know it was probably all for the best, but still - it was hard. I don't know what would be worse - watching the necessary torture and not being able to do anything, or being separated from the situation, like I was. The people in the office were so nice. One of the back-room paperwork ladies let me hang out in her office and gave me tissues.

I am still recovering from being a little bit of a mess. I don't like pain much myself - but dealing with my child's pain - even the PROSPECT of his pain - is a whole new world of awfulness that I did not handle very well. I feel a little stupid - like I over-reacted. It was just a tooth pull, for Pete's sake. But, at the same time...my mother instincts tell me I'm NOT over-reacting. He's a three year old. It was a little traumatic.

Oh my poor baby. He had obviously shed a few tears, and was quite confused about his numb lips...And now he has a gaping hole in his mouth...which is sort of cute, and also sort of gives me punch in the gut whenever I glimpse it. Weird combination. The adult tooth won't grow in for quite a while...

The dentist has given us the option of a temporary fake tooth thingy - mostly for aesthetic reasons, (but he also mentioned speech development as a factor to consider) but because Aiden still sucks his thumb at night, it probably won't happen - at least not right now. So he'll be sporting a premature jack o'lantern look for a while.

We went to Wal-Mart and I let him pick out some ice-cream. He picked strawberry.
( Really? Strawberry? Okay. Whatever.) He fell asleep on the way home.

So we've had quite the stressful morning. Quite the week too- what with ice-storms and potty-training. And I thought January would be boring.