A Voice from the Eastern Door

Back to it.

Here I am after a few weeks of quality time with Baby T. We had a good break, I could tell that as the holidays approached my little guy was ready for it. It was starting to be a fight to get him to school and bed. He would drag his feet so slowly across the floor to his boots that I felt like I was saying, “Hurry up, come on” fifty times a morning. Even his teachers had commented that not just him but all the kids in his class were in need of a serious break.

The last week and a half before the two weeks off we had to keep reminding Baby T of the countdown. That in these many sleeps you wouldn’t have to go to school for awhile. That he’s getting his wish to just stay home with Mommy all day. And that in this many sleeps Santa was coming. He really only cared about the no school countdown. He was scared of Santa. Each time we went to a mall, any mall, he walked as far away from that man as possible. Not just that but he’d even turn his body to hide himself like a person does when they don’t want to make eye contact with someone and is trying too hard to avoid being noticed. Of course it’s more obvious but that is how much Baby T did not want to talk to that man.

As it got closer to Christmas, Baby T’s father and I gave up the whole picture with Santa thing. In the beginning of December we even told Baby T that if he didn’t get a picture with Santa, Santa would fly over our house and there would be no Christmas. Needless to say it failed and we were told, “That’s ok I have Wisk Totas”. (Which is a lot but he really has about eight not five.) and the other answer was, “I don’t want Christmas then.” I don’t know if he was afraid or if it was the fact that it was a stranger that made it impossible. We actually used going to see Santa as a threat when Baby T didn’t listen while shopping. Sadly, it worked better than a timeout or toy gathering fight. I know, I know, it’s mean but I’m about due so I can’t exactly scoop Baby T up in my arms and drag him to the car when it’s time to go. That’s how it happened, Baby T played dead on the floor of the mall and we told him to get a ride home with Santa. Baby T was holding our hand being one of those perfect angel kids in no time.

Baby T and I spent most of his break from school at home. I went on average three days at a time without leaving. He just didn’t want to go anywhere. He was completely content to stay put, sleeping in, snacking and turning me into a professional Hot Wheels sound effects machine. I did enjoy it. This was Baby T’s last Christmas as “the” baby of the family. I tried to do whatever he wanted. Read a book over and over. Make up strange stories. Play matching games where everything magically matched. Talked about when the new baby comes. And most importantly I took naps with him when he’d actually pass out. They weren’t often but it was so nice to lay curled up with him resting if he either did or didn’t. It was alone time, the two of us with no where to go. I mean I did have Christmas shopping but that’s not something Baby T cared about. We promised him that when he got this break he could stay home with me all day and we did. I tried to get him to stay up late on New Years so I could wish him a happy New Year but he didn’t make it. I just kissed his forehead at midnight and wished him a good year in his sleep.

On one of the few days that Baby T was up for leaving the house we did go to the mall. His reason for wanting to go was the arcade. Baby T’s dad and mine were to scope out stores by taking turns. At the end when we were ready to leave Baby T was near nap time and miserable. He basically played dead and ran away to hide. We used that “do you want to see Santa then” question and surprisingly he said yes! I took his little hand and we waited in line to meet the guy. I was sure Baby T would back out. I didn’t care if he did, like I said we had already accepted that he wasn’t going anywhere near that guy. When it was Baby T’s turn he walked right up to him and smiled. Santa asked Baby T what he wanted for Christmas and Baby T said, “a blue car, a big one.” Santa asked him, “that’s it?” and Baby T said, “yup” and smiled for his picture and that was it. No more scared of the big guy.

The last day before the end of his break Baby T and I finally played outside. It was cold but beautiful out. He wanted to play in his sandbox so he did. When he got bored of that we went for a walk down the road. Well I walked and he rode his bike. The road was nice and plowed so it was possible in January. I pretty much froze because I’m a grown up who doesn’t listen to my own advice. Baby T was bundled up head to toe; though I did wish he had a scarf to cover his face. When we got back into the house he had the cutest rosy cheeks I’d seen in a long time.

I tried to get him to take a nap with me but he didn’t. I would have thought all that fresh air would have knocked him out. It knocked me out. Luckily Baby T’s Tota and aunt were home so it was safe to doze off when I warmed up. When I woke up Baby T acted like the parent. He gave me a hug and asked me, “Did you have a good nap?” I told him yes and then he said, “Holy it was a long one, you were sleeping and sleeping.”

The whole break he had been trying to stay up late and skip naps in case he missed any part of his vacation. At the end of that day his reluctance to rest up with me paid off. He was showered and in bed by eight. A dream goal to Baby T’s father and I. I was positive that the first night we’d be trying to get him back on schedule would be met with a nightmarish ten or eleven o’ clock. The bad bedtime where he’d be screaming in the morning that we woke him up. Thankfully just like that after a good break, holidays and family time we are right back to it.

 

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