About Sprout: June 2010

We use a sling as a baby carrier. It's simple, portable and it's technically "Aaron's". However, it is like the Prius -- whoever has the baby gets to use it. So, even though the Prius replaced Aaron's car, I mainly drive it because I usually have the kids.Anyway, when we are all out and about, Aaron really loves to wear Toby in the sling and often points out that it is "his" sling. For example, a woman this weekend pointed out to her child that the baby was in a "mommy pouch" and Aaron made sure to note that it is his sling.

Zeke wanted in on the action and asked for a sling, so I fashioned one for him from a baby blanket. While he was not allowed to put the baby in it as he requested, Pig did get carried for a little while.

Zeke has been doing really well as a big brother, though we have had some transition issues that came after the four week point. I guess that is when it became apparent that the baby wasn't going back where he came from.

The first issue is when Zeke had the irresistible urge to move the baby's head so that the baby could watch him. I am glad he wants to interact with Toby and I am glad that we will not have to be the only audience for Zeke's antics. However, four year olds don't always do things gently. I did have to put Zeke on "probation" for two days from any sort of touch without asking permission first. That mainly worked, but I did have an instance this week of walking in and seeing that Zeke had lifted Toby's head at least four inches from the floor while on his playmat at which point I start yelling at which point Zeke dropped Toby at which point Toby started screaming louder than me.

On a related note, there was a phase when Zeke really want to touch the baby's eyes. Then there was the phase when he kept trying to put his finger in Toby's mouth. I guess it was yet another unfortunate parenting decision that I let Zeke see the internet video about Charlie and his brother.

Of course, older siblings doing bodily and/or psychological harm to their new siblings is important fodder for the creation of important family stories in the future, so there is an upside to all of this. Aside from a story about my sister breaking my crayons*, the most common story to illustrate the early relationship between my sister and me is how she tried to pull an infant-sized me very far down in my Johnny Jump-up (a bouncer suspended in a doorframe) to see if she could get me to hit my head on the door frame.

The second issue is Zeke's behavior. I don't think his behavior is terribly outside the range of typical four year old behaviors from a pretty outgoing and silly boy. Still, we have witnessed a lot of testing limits and a lot of new and loud demands to "Look at me! Look at me!" I also imagine that it must be very difficult that there are so many new rules that he has to follow regarding just one other creature: when it comes to Maggie, the only rules are no touching with feet and no riding. When it comes to the cats, no chasing and no yelling. When it comes to me, the only rule is to LISTEN. So, here comes the baby and we are not to poke his eyes, touch his soft spot, roll on him, pick up and drop his head, force toys into his hand, sing loudly in Mommy and Daddy's room when the baby is sleeping there, forcefully rock the carseat and so forth and so on. That is just exhausting to keep up with that list and so I think Zeke wearies from it some.

He is also very sweet to Toby and obviously loves him very much. He is very eager for Toby to be a playmate and to interact with him. He was over the moon thrilled that we had a family bath last night and that he and Toby could take a bath together -- he told me that he would wash the baby and that I could leave the baby in the tub with him. He loves introducing Toby as his baby and his baby "brudder". He also has been persistent in his early desire to call Toby "Oylwuz" or however it is spelled. The whole spiel is usually, "This is my baby. His name is Oylwuz. Mommy calls him Toby." He loves to tell anyone and everyone things about his brother. Today when Toby was a little fussy after I woke him up from an afternoon nap so that we could get to a dance class, Zeke kept telling him, "It's okay, Toby. I'm your big brother and I love you."

* Short version: I was five, my sister fifteen or thereabouts. She had to vacuum. I was coloring. She was angry with me, so broke my crayons and sucked them up in the vacuum. As an extra cruel twist on top of taking away my crayons, she called to my mom to let her know that I was to blame for my crayons ending up in the vacuum and I got in trouble. My sister only admitted that she had done this about ten years later.