Rumour has it that I'm overdue for an update on my blog, so here goes. I wrote this piece awhile ago for a family journal, but maybe some of the rest of you might find it remotely interesting as well ... at least it will look like I post things on here now and then! :-)

21 Months Ago

21 months ago, life changed dramatically for Tom and I. People tried to tell us what to expect, but there was no way to really understand how much our lives would be impacted by it. It, of course, was the birth of our son, Ethan. To this day, the most incredible miracle I have ever witness. Still, I became a mother with great trepidation. Only three short weeks before Ethan was born, I was given the opportunity to hold our friend’s newborn daughter. I declined, due to my irrational fear that I would somehow “break” this delicate little human. My friends teased me about this, since the large protrusion of my belly made it painfully obvious that I was going to have to face my fears and learn how to care for one of those fragile creatures myself. As most who know me will remember, I have never been a “baby person.” I was always much more at ease around children that could tell me what they wanted. Now, I find that I have become one of those women hovering around the newborn baby waiting for a turn to hold it. Becoming a parent will do that to you. When Ethan was born, it wasn’t just the physical care that I felt inept at dealing with, but also the huge responsibility of having a little life and soul to nurture and protect. Nothing is more humbling than discovering that everything you do is watched and duplicated by the little shadow you call your child.

21 months later, I cannot imagine where the time has gone! How is it possible that our little baby has become a toddler? What happened to that sweet and content infant who was pacified just having his mother hold him? Oh, I guess this is what they call the “terrible two’s!” It is utterly amazing to me that Ethan can be so endearing one moment, and so frustrating the next! He wants nothing to do with his mother one instance and than cannot live without her when she starts to make supper. Go figure. Still, I have it better than his father, who is greeted with glee when he walks in the door, only to find out that it’s actually Tom’s shoes that Ethan is so anxious to see. Tom’s shoes are currently the most exciting entertainment in our house (this doesn’t speak well for us). By entertainment, I mean Ethan putting those big shoes on his little feet, grabbing the laces to hold onto, and then clomping around the house with them on — that would be complete with mud, sand, salt, snow, etc. I have given up on cleaning. It’s just too much to take when those dirty shoes appear two minutes after washing the kitchen floor. Some people say that keeping your house too clean is actually a bad thing, since it doesn’t build up your immune system. We have stellar immune systems.

Being in the dental field, I was particularly conscious of what my innocent child was putting into his mouth. Aside from his thumb (which he’s pretty attached to) and mostly anything else he could get into his mouth for many months, I was especially concerned about him eating a balanced diet. On the momentous occasion of the first baby food, we started out with vegetables. Our doctor recommended holding off on the fruit until he learned to eat his veggies first, since fruit has more sugar. Sounded good. He was a good eater for a long time, his skin even taking on an orange hue from all the beta carotene in his diet. Then came the day when he realized he didn’t have to eat things that were green, orange, red or any other colour of the vegetable rainbow. And why not? Because, as he found out, there is SUGAR in this world. His mother couldn’t protect him from it forever. I still remember going out to eat at a restaurant with him. We had ordered a meal for him off the kids' menu for the first time, which happened to come with a package of two oreo cookies. To my knowledge, Ethan had never even seen an oreo cookie up to that point, but wouldn’t you know it, that little rascal just KNEW that there was something good in that blue, shiny package. I have to say, though, that just watching those little fingers plaster oreo cookie debris all over his face, hair and mouth with such satisfying glee was pretty fun to watch. I’m not sure if I have ever seen him enjoy eating something more. Ethan has learned to say “thank you” in sign language and we got more hand waving thank yous that day than we ever had before. I continue to be amazed that he inherently knows that something is a fruit or vegetable, even if he’s never seen it before, and will reject it without even trying a single bite, and yet will automatically reach for anything that’s remotely like junk food. I am resorting to many things I said I never would. Ethan was hardly ever allowed to have juice at first. Now it’s his daily source of vitamin C. Ethan was going to learn to enjoy food for what it was, none of this adding sodium, fat, sugar or other additives to make things more palatable for the little guy. Now I am hiding vegetables and fruit in things people have never even dreamed of tainting with the stuff. Ethan was not going to eat raisons, because they have too much sugar and stick to your teeth. Now they are considered one of his 5 servings of fruit and veggies for the day. At least I do brush his teeth, well, attempt to anyway. Now I am on a V8 juice disguise crusade. So, Ethan, how does that orange juice taste today? … oh, a little more like marinara sauce than you remember from yesterday? Oh well, we’ll just water that down a little more then.

On the plus side, I have learned that I have a greater capacity for love than I ever dreamed possible. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for my little charmer, other than maybe being willing to get up and take him out of his crib in the morning as soon as he wants. Most days I roll over and attempt, in vain, to get more sleep. Some things never change. I still don’t like to wake up, but now my alarm clock cannot be disabled and the “snooze” button appears to be malfunctioning.

What else has changed? Well, 21 months ago, I had no idea that our home’s décor would be trucks and obnoxiously coloured toys (but mostly trucks — there’s BOY in Ethan’s DNA). 21 months ago, I couldn’t have imagined that a “clean house” would mean all the toys pushed up against the wall. 21 months ago, I had failed to understand that going grocery shopping alone was a big night out. 21 months ago, I could spend hours trying to decide how to arrange the furniture in the baby room. Now, the furniture gets rearranged by our eager young decorator ever 5 seconds, regardless of whether it “fits” or not. 21 months ago, I thought it was fun to wash little socks and baby clothes and lovingly hang them in a newly painted bedroom. Now, I push the clothes down a little deeper into the laundry basket and try to make today’s outfit last one more day. 21 months ago, I thought that naming our child the right name and learning how to “breathe” were the most important things I could do. Now, I cannot imagine Ethan having any other name and I take breathing — his and mine — for granted (ok, maybe some nights I still creep into his room to put my hand on his chest and make sure he’s still breathing). 21 months ago, I became a mother. I have never been given a greater responsibility nor wanted, with all my being, to do my job to the best of my ability. 21 months ago, I didn’t know that I would be paid in only hugs and kisses and feel like I were the richest person in the world.