Toddler

What My Daughter Has Taught Me About the Other Side

~ theantelopediaries

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I’ve heard it said that babies are closest to the “other side,” because they are newly born. I’ve also heard it said that the reason that newborns sleep so much is because they are still connected to that “other side.” Too bad they can’t talk yet. Oh the stories they might tell. I don’t have a strong opinion about the “other side.” However, by observing my daughter, I’ve came to some conclusions as to what the other side may have looked like to her, before it was affected by the physical laws of this earth.

What I’ve learned from Polina is that the other side is infinite.

I realized this when, not long after we started potty training, she began spinning the roll of toilet paper so that it all fell on the floor. One time I stood at the sink doing my business when I looked over to see half the roll gone from her spinning. “Polina!” I cried. After a couple instances of this (before we put up a gate), it occurred to me that in her world, there is an infinite amount of toilet paper. In my mind, I have x number of rolls. Polina doesn’t care about that. She doesn’t know that there is an “end” to toilet paper, and if there is, so what? She doesn’t know that toilet paper costs money. (Have you looked at the price of toilet paper recently?) All she knows is how fun it is to spin the roll.

Then I was faced with a dilemma: to let her spin, or not to spin. Here’s why it was a dilemma for me: This is probably the last period in her life where she will actually enjoy spinning toilet paper. It brought such a huge smile to her face. Can I sacrifice one roll, one roll to let her have, what looks like, ecstasy? I know teenagers like to throw toilet paper onto trees. I’ve never done it, so I don’t know if it’s as much fun as what Polina appears to be experiencing.

Every part of my body was telling me not to allow her to spin because it is so contrary to sensible behavior. But I wasn’t thinking of it how it appears here, on our side. On her side, the roll is infinite, money is no issue.

Another example of the infinite- she scribbles on one page of drawing paper, then turns to the next for another small scribble, and so on. I try to direct her to draw more on the same page as opposed to “wasting” paper. Then again, she doesn’t know that paper is finite or costs money. In her world, paper is infinite.

Stickers also appear to be infinite. It used to be that when she went on the potty, she was happy with one sticker. Then one day I gave her two, and then she asked for more. From then on, it was wage inflation. One day, she persuaded me to give her the whole roll of stickers. It was difficult to watch, but fortunately I paid only a dollar for 300 of them.

I come from a culture of scarcity. Most Russians are shaped by the history of World War II, famine, and communism. It’s in our DNA, so to speak. The result? We don’t throw good things away, and certainly don’t waste things. Have a spot on an apple? We cut it out. I remember sitting with a Russian woman in her 60s as she cut the bad spots off an apple. By the time she was done with it, there was hardly anything left to the apple, but she still put it on a serving plate. Looking at what was left of the apple, it was one of those situations that could have been interpreted as comic, tragic, or both. This was in 2014. “There’s no famine,” my husband reminds me. He doesn’t understand. It’s the possibility of it happening, and the fact that it did happen. Cutting away at the apple honors those who came before us, whether they lived or died.

In Polina’s world, there is no famine. Food is always in abundance. (Kind of my husband’s way of thinking.) She doesn’t eat for the future (eat beyond full so you’re not hungry later). She expects that there is food all the time.

On the other hand, when she really likes something, she stuffs it in her mouth and asks for more, as she does with chocolate. Does she really think she can stuff herself with chocolate and get more? How much can a little girl eat? At age two, she is tall and thin, but I think she could have eaten all of our reserves of chocolate.

In Polina’s world, time is infinite. “I have to get ready Polina.” “I have to do chores, Polina.” “Polina, we have to get ready.” Nope, not in Polina’s world. There are no clocks, only present desires. Who cares if your mother wants to go to the gym and wakes up two and a half hours earlier and still doesn’t make it on time. There’s something wrong with that scenario in my world, but not in Polina’s. Time is infinite and therefore nobody ever runs late.

To support her side means she is less prepared for our side. To support our side means she loses connection with her side and then spends lots of time and money seeking spiritual fulfillment in adulthood. Ugh, the dilemma of it all.

I’ve also learned that there is no separation on the other side.

I know this because my daughter clings to me. She clung to me as a baby, and I let her have me. The few times I went out for a “break,” my husband called asking me to come back, because Polina was screaming from the separation. Most moms I know let their children scream because a) they need a break and b) they believe it teaches their child independence. Me, I was and am a wuss. I was her primary provider for almost a year and a half. Polina can handle separation from me now, but sometimes she still clings to me. I do my best to accommodate, but it’s painful to hear her cry when I have to wash the dishes, or work on our new 47-year old house. Independence means separation, which, when my daughter doesn’t want it, means pain, as reflected in her eyes and her crying. I’m not religious, but I think “God” must have always been there. That’s why separation is so difficult on this side. It’s not fun for me either.

There is way more love on the other side than there is here.

At some point, the honeymoon of having a baby ends and the character building, for both sides begins. It’s akin to two knives sharpening each other. My two-year-old’s will is sometimes stronger than mine. I don’t know how she does it. It bothers me that she convinces me to do things I don’t want to do, like read nine books before bed when I only planned to read half that amount.

Another example of this? Polina doesn’t understand the effect her crying has on me. My loving nature runs out and I have to take a break. For anyone who has seen or experienced it, the patience to perfectly parent a two year old is amazing.

Other references from the other side include:

If Polina could talk, I think she would sometimes ask me,“Why can’t you understand me?” Because I’m not an omniscient God. You have to use your words Polina. Your mind is becoming more advanced and I can’t always guess correctly what you want anymore.

“Why can’t you bear my crying?” Because I’m not omnipotent or as loving as God; because He has more patience, as demonstrated by your expectations. I wish I was more loving. Then I would never be frustrated when you cry. You are teaching me love, but it is I whose responsibility it is to provide it.

Another reason why I think people are embellished with love on the other side is because children are not born to appease you. They expect you to appease them. In other words, babies love you conditionally. Watch their reaction when you don’t give them something they want. Polina turns her back and cries. If I give in, there is a conciliatory look, and sometimes a smile, behind the glossy eyes where the tears had been. She is used to having everything she wants in all of its manifestations.

This list is by no means complete. These are just my observations as of this date.

Originally written on  August 24, 2014

One Lackluster New Year- 2015

~ theantelopediaries

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Of all the New Year’s Eves in my life, since I was about eight, this one was the most lackluster. I can’t believe it’s 2015 as I’m writing this. I initially started to write “December” thinking the holidays haven’t come yet. Nope, they’ve passed, like a climax that’s all of a sudden over. I feel deflated.

The night of New Year’s Eve, which is normally a day of excitement for me, I lay next to Polina as I do every night waiting for her to fall asleep. I heard some sporadic fireworks in our typically sleepy neighborhood. Waiting for Polina to fall asleep, I knew I was going to sleep myself, like someone knowing they’re going under anesthesia. The last thing I remember is the sound of a muted firework. When I woke up, it was dark and silent, and I knew New Year’s was over. My husband didn’t even wake me up.

“What did you do last night?” I asked him in the morning.

“Worked on the computer.”

“You didn’t celebrate New Year’s?”

“Just another day,” he casually responded.

Indeed, we behaved as though it was any other day.  We didn’t even wish each other “Happy New Year.” On my end, I didn’t want to jinx it. I’ve said “Happy New Year” for as long as I can remember, and what has come of it? I needed a clean slate.

Every year since I could remember I sent well wishes to my friends for good things in the New Year. I got emails and cards wishing me the same. And yet, as I look over the trajectory of my life, I got slammed. We got slammed. The optimism of the new year turned dark. Like a newborn that becomes a fussy baby, or a demanding toddler, or a rebellious teenager. Next thing you know your kid is crying on the phone about something and you think why did it have to go wrong? What happened to that peaceful newborn you held in your arms? That’s how the New Year has become for me- full of optimism (that I now see as hype) followed by disappointment (which I now see as business as usual.)

When I heard about the shootings in France, I didn’t even think about the new year. When I was a kid, it was usually conflict in the Middle East that dampened the good spirits of the new year. This time, it didn’t enter my mind. I saw it as just the world we’re living in. How jaded I’ve become.

We need a good year. It has been a while.

Polina’s Growth Spurt

~ theantelopediaries

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I have been so busy with the house the last few months (buying, renovating, moving) that Polina has really gotten the short end of the stick. Polina has not played with another child in two months. We haven’t gone to a kid-friendly activity since June. When I think about doing something special with Polina, I think about going to a park because I feel like I need time to catch up with her, even though she is “with me” all day. The time we have spent together the last several month is, for the most part, not quality time.  I attend to her basic needs, but a lot of times in the past few months, I was just trying to get things done.

So during the time I was occupied with my world, Polina has matured. In the past week or so, she started saying “bye bye.” Before, she used to wave her hand in silence. She knew what it meant, but said her goodbyes by grinning and waving. Rather suddenly (to me), she began saying “bye bye” one day. I think it happened when she said it to our rabbit one day after we got done playing with him. It was rather sudden. I don’t think I even said, “bye bye.” She waved, I picked her up so she could see him, and she waved again and said, “bye bye.”

Wait wait, I thought you were that girl. Now you’re this girl. My husband thinks it’s great that she is learning to talk. I’m not without nostalgia, because my little girl is growing up. One of the things that is hard for me as a parent of a young child is that she is not in one place for long. It’s hard because I get to know one person, and then this growth spurt happens and it’s different. (Well it would be worse if she didn’t develop, but it’s still hard.)

She is also saying “hot” instead of using sign language. She is saying “dog” instead of “ah ah,” which she insisted on saying for a year. I would say “dog,” or “sobachka” in Russian, and she would say “ah ah.” Now I kind of miss her saying “ah ah.”  I’ve started saying, “ah ah.”  She is saying “cat” instead of using sign language. She is still using the sign for “bird,” which brings me comfort. I want the best for my daughter and of course I want her to excel, but I feel that with these changes my daughter is like sand slipping through my fingers.

She is saying “faa” for fork and “spoo” for spoon whereas before spoons and forks were both “faa.” She insisted on saying “faa” even when I told her it was a spoon. When I gave up trying to convince her, she began calling a spoon a spoon.

She also entertains herself more. I remember when I couldn’t wash the dishes because she wanted me to play with her. I remember when I couldn’t get any chores done because she wanted my full attention. It was a really tough time. Now, when she sees me doing the dishes, she wants to sit on the counter beside me. When I’m sweeping, she asks for a broom so she can sweep with me. When I’m doing laundry, she sits on the dryer and rocks out to the cycle. On the rare chance I watch a video, she is there beside me. Sometimes I just sit and watch her play and occupy herself. She chooses the toys she wants to play with instead of me choosing them for her. To me these developments are monumental.

Sometimes I see older girls and I think Polina is going to speak and have opinions and… I’m scared. Childhood is long but short.

Polina has a memory. Today, she bought out a book I hadn’t read to her in six months. She remembered the name of the book and that there is a song in it before I even opened the book. Six months ago she was 22 months old. She remembered something now from when she was 22 months old.

Polina’s choice of food has widened. She is asking for butter chicken and last night, steak! She asks for things off our plates. Not too long ago, we were the ones encouraging her to eat and try different foods. She went through a period where no matter what we offered her, she ate Indian naan bread and rice almost exclusively. Now look at her go.

She has also started not only giving hugs and kisses but saying “haaa” when she wants to give or receive a hug. Before, sometimes she liked receiving them, but sometimes she squirmed. She didn’t use to give hugs or kisses. She is becoming more loving.

She is also becoming physically stronger.   Sometimes she still kicks, squirms and laughs when I try to put her pants on. Pete said I should say “no” more forcefully, so I make eye contact and say, “No!” She still thinks it’s funny to squirm and kick. She almost kicked me in the face a couple times. Today, I said “No!” and when she continued kicking and laughing, I slapped her butt. She made the sign for owie and her expression changed to one of hurt. I told her, “You gave mommy an owie. Your kicking gives mommy an owie.” Then she stopped and let me put on her pants and I felt she understood that she was causing me pain. I don’t like spanking her, but I haven’t been able to communicate with her not to do something any other way. There is nothing worse for me than Polina making an owie sign and pointing at me. I am ashamed that the first person that hurt my daughter is… me. Sometimes I wonder if she will like me, or even if she still likes me. Then she initiates a hug and kiss, and it makes me feel like things are okay.

Polina knows some letters. She is interested in letters and books and words. I am too, but she also has my parents’ genes, both of whom went through books like water. This girl is interested in the fine print, like the pages about book publishers and copyright information.  I think her favorite letter is the letter “O.” She makes a face like an opera singer and says it slowly and carefully, “Ooooooh.” If she doesn’t know a letter or word for something, she guesses at it or makes it up herself (she has a few words she made up for things, like when she points to something but doesn’t know what to call it she says, “dadn.”)

Polina has a curious mind. I try to support it as much as I can, because my mom didn’t say, “no” too often and I didn’t take advantage of that freedom or turn into a rebel. Quite the opposite. While my peers were eager for “freedom” in adolescence, I just continued in the realm I had lived in, and I didn’t feel any pull to do crazy things. Just the opposite- freedom taught me to be cautious and conservative. I’m not saying this would have worked for everyone, but it worked for me.

Sometimes I observe what parents say “no” to their children about and I think, “yes, I understand why a child would want to do the opposite after so many years of living under rules that don’t always make sense to them or really aren’t that important.”

Since the title of this blog is “Growth Spurt,” I want to add one more thing. Polina’s pants have turned to shorts. Shirts that went down to her wrists are now just below her elbows. I read that in Feng Shui, you’re not supposed to constrain your child in small clothes. (They are not tight and I do use the shirts for undershirts.) I think I’m subconsciously constraining my child. I should be happy that she is maturing, but I’m not. I’m scared. I will support it of course, but I’m scared, because she is one day closer to growing up and living her own life and… leaving. I don’t want her to leave. She’s only two, and I’m not ready for her to leave. Thank goodness for long childhoods.

My Little Epiphany About God

~ theantelopediaries

 

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I had a small epiphany today that I wouldn’t have had if I were not a parent.  I thought about God and how often people pray or ask Him for things, and it occurred to me that maybe He is just tired, like any parent would be about their child’s desires that don’t fit their game plan.  Perhaps He is even tired of our crying and misbehavior.  Maybe that is why there is so much misfortune in the world.  God is just worn out from being a parent to all these children.