Unimagined Territory

Elliott is now 15 months old and I have to admit that I am entering unimagined territory. What does that mean? Well, let me tell you about myself. I'm a planner, and an observer. I'm the third of four children and carefully watched my older siblings live their lives and then made decisions about how to make my own path. I'm not a copycat, I just like to have LOTS of information about how others handle things, and then I make my own mixture, my own hybrid blend of life based on what I think is the best of what others have done.

This is how I write. This is how I work. And this, apparently, is how I parent. Except, I'm not a seasoned "toddler observer." I LOVE babies. Love their sweet, soft smell and their cooing and wide-eyed wonder at the world around them. At family gatherings, it was a sure bet that I was near to whatever baby was in the room. Now, kids and toddlers, not so much. They moved too fast, talked too loud, played too rough and didn't do nearly as good of a job at being bossed around as babies do.

So I find myself, as the parent of Elliott Milton Scott, 15 months old, at an impasse. And let me tell you, it is a really delightful place to be. As he is learning and growing into his own little person, I am learning and growing and deciding how to be the best mother of a toddler that I can be. A few huge revelations to date...

Elliott plays independently.
We're finally at a point where Elliott will sit down with his toys and look through a book, poke the buttons on his microphone or just get everything out of his toy bins and spread them around. He puts balls inside cups and uses a random spatula on the floor to stir an imaginary stew. I love watching Elliott play in his own little world. It's totally inspiring, and not something I looked forward to, because I just never went to "toddlerhood" in my mind.

Elliott is learning to communicate.
Perhaps one of the hardest things about caring for an infant is the whole "crying when you have no idea why" thing that happens to pretty much everyone. Diaper dry. Tummy full. Not too warm. Not too cold. Being held. Put down. Toy dangled. And the screaming continues. These days, Elliott is using some basic sign language like "eat, more, milk, drink and all done" and does a pretty gosh darn good job of pointing and leading you to what he wants. He tells us when he is hungry and when he's all done. He leads us to the gate upstairs when he is ready to go to bed at night (I know, what a luxury!).

The hardest part about this is learning how to tell him "no" while still encouraging him to communicate. For example, he REALLY wants to go outside. He has learned to say "door" and stands at the door and says "door" and we know he wants to go outside and play. But the realities of living in Michigan in January means it's dark by 5:30 or 6 and it's 10 degrees outside and the realities of being a working parent means I need to get things done inside on the weekend and putting Elliott into 10 layers of clothes is a pretty significant commitment.

I just did it today, housework and other tasks be damned. We suited up and went and played outside. It wasn't too cold and the snow is still fresh and gorgeous. He had a wonderful time, but threw a true temper tantrum when we came inside. I took a video of it (I know, I'm weird), but the chances of it uploading without freezing our home computer is slim to none.

Elliott loves me more than I thought was possible. And vice versa.
These days, Elliott shows a lot of affection. Hugs and kisses are a part of our daily routine and sometimes, he slows down just long enough to sit on my lap and cuddle or to read a book together. This touches something deep, deep inside of me. I knew that as a parent I would be needed. I never got to the place in my head where I would be someone's favorite person to read with. I guess I'm glad I didn't, because it feels so, so deliciously good to know how much Elliott loves me.

Naptime is goodtime.
Elliott will tell us around 7:30 or 8pm that he is ready to go to bed. It's pretty nifty. He is not nearly as good about napping. He fights the nap. But that's where being a good parent is so important. I have to search for his clues and make sure that he naps. If he doesn't he is a bear to live with and he just doesn't enjoy life as much. If I make sure he sleeps when he is tired, he enjoys playing and learning and growing so much more.

And frankly, weekend naptime is good for Mommy and Daddy too.

Ok, I could go on and on, but I think I've gotten most of it off of my mind. Elliott is amazing. I'm so proud to be his mommy. And just as I planned in my head for--baby in 2009/2010, girl, natural childbirth--and got--baby in 2007, boy, planned C-section--I'm learning that not being in control is a pretty cool thing. We're enjoying the adventure.