Posts Tagged ‘Sandra Boyton’

You Got Options Kid

February 27, 2014

I told him today as I discouraged him from trying to do another act of willful self-immolation.

I am sure he has absolutely no idea that all I want to do is keep him safe, but he is sure about this much, he has to go, try, find, do, and fall over, and then get up and try it again.

It was really awesome to have a rain day.

Though, that was not my first thought when heading out for work.

Work for me is so much easier when I can be outside.

The walking, the exercise of being out and about pushing the stroller, pushing the swings, lifting a toddler up to a slide, exploring, breathing the fresh air, it’s a balm to me.

However, once in a while the fates intervene and I am granted a day inside where the most amazing things happen.

First, my one year old signed “please” today when I was holding him.

His first please!

He has used other signs with me, pointing out what he wants, and the sign for “more” but this was the first time he used please to ask for something and that just made my morning.

That and he gave me my first mouth kiss.

That sounds weird, but the first baby kisses aren’t done with a closed mouth, they sort of form a little “o” with their mouths and lean in on your face or mouth.

I knew what he was doing and was so thrilled.

It is easy to misconstrue it with getting bitten, but it was a kiss.

He can blow kisses too, and wave hello and bye-bye.

He was just a peach today.

Even when he was trying to climb up everything he could get his hands on.

And my other charge was so sweet as well, I didn’t even have a thought in my head about the rain, other than it was nice to listen to some jazz with the boys while the rain pelted down.

I gave myself plenty of time to get to work, charged up my rechargeable bike lights, put my rain fender over my rear wheel, and wore layers and stowed my glasses in their case.

I find nothing more frustrating riding then foggy, wet, blurry glasses.

I went slow and am grateful for it.

Drivers be crazy when it’s wet.

I pulled in fairly soaked, but the nice thing about riding to a nanny gig verses an office gig, is that there’s a dryer where I work.

In fact, I washed all my outer layers and my messenger bag, it had gotten some road grime on it, before sending them off to dry.

I had enough layers on that I was quite content in the house without the ones that I had tossed to the laundry.

I made a cup of Earl Grey tea and got ready for the day.

There was lots of story time.

I think I must have read ten or eleven books to my eldest charge while the little one was busy pulling apart legos.

There is something so cheering about sitting in a rocking chair with a small, warm body in your lap, reading Tara Gomi and Little Hoot and Little Pea and the Sandra Boynton board books, while the rain falls outside the window and the sound of the cars driving through the rain sluices against my eardrums.

My main concern was how to navigate nap time, since the routine of late has been a walk to the park where the youngest sacks out for about 45 minutes and my older boy plays in the sand box or on the equipment.

Going for a walk was not an option today.

I had other options though, which were sweet and full of kind grace and a sort of magic that makes my job so amazing and fulfilling that I feel gifted to be able to do the work.

The little one went down with nary a peep and I put him into the crib in the older boys bedroom and went downstairs with my big boy and we had a little snack and talked about he cats and watched the buses and garbage trucks go by.

Wednesday’s in the neighborhood are great for the watching of garbage trucks.

I haven’t met a little boy yet that doesn’t adore the garbage truck and all the machinations thereof.

He wanted to sit in my lap and I just naturally sank into an arm-chair next to the window and snuggled him right up.  There was a throw blanket over the chair and I wrapped that over both our laps and though there were no children’s books to be had, there were catalogues.

He’s a big fan of William’s Sonoma.

We talked teapots and cups and spatulas, cake plates, and Easter bunny baskets, and throw pillows, we had a conversation about the Vitamix and his mama’s homemade smoothies, I pointed out to him the things that were a match for his own little tiny kitchen play area.

I was slowly flipping to the last page of the catalogue when I heard a little snort.

His eyelids were slowly closing and the long lashes drifted down the plump apples of his cheeks and he had started snoring softly.

Oh goodness.

I just sat for  a moment with that weight of toddler in my arms, in my lap, pressed against the panes of my heart and felt glad with all my being to be trusted to do something of this nature for my work.

I get to do this.

To have the complete trust of a child is an awesome and powerful thing.

Nothing says I trust you so much as falling asleep in another’s arms.

Or I love you.

I got a few of those today too.




I got the other baby to go down for a second nap (which he normally does, but had not at all this week prior for me) when the eldest boys mama returned home to work out of the office and took over her son for the rest of the day I was there.

I swaddled him up in a Snugli (it’s like a Baby Bjorn, basically a carrier) and sang songs to him and then just rocked and hummed along my own little nanny tune.

Sometimes I hum this same little snatch of rhythm to myself if I am in need of a brief moment of comfort.

Hell, if it works to soothe a baby, it’s going to work for me.

He struggled for a minute or two, so much to see and do and go and climb, but I as I sang him another little snatch of melody, I reminded him that he had options.

Me or the crib.

Or no nap at all.

I forget that.

I have options too.

I may struggle and be distracted by the things in my periphery and I may not want to do that contrary action that is requested.

But oh, when I do.

The simple bliss of surrender.

He snuffled a sigh at me, settled his head on my shoulder, batted his eyelashes over the coco brown of his eyes and fell asleep.

I sat for a little while in the rocking chair.

Having nothing to say.

Nowhere to go.

Nothing to fix.

And fully aware that today I have options.

Surrendering has never looked so good.



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