A few nights ago, Holden had his Second Vomit Experience and, once again, the large pasta pot came out and he clutched it expectantly while he sat on the couch with me. Every night since then, he comes into the house from daycare happy as a clam, and then instantly turns when he passes the threshold. Tears drop from his eyes as he begins repeatedly sobbing: "Mommy, I want the pooooooooot." We finally figured the pot is a tangible representation of security in what was otherwise a very scary, dramatic and memorable experience for him. (There goes Psych 101 rearing it's ugly head again). So we explained that the pot is not a toy - it is large and clunky and could really hurt him if it dropped on one of his cute corn nugget toes. We told him he was welcome to play with other things - pointing out he had a whole drawer of plastic plates, bowls and cups just for him. He went to the drawer and pulled out a turquoise bowl. He carried the bowl around with him just below his mouth for the rest of the night and it is currently in bed with him as he sleeps, clutched in his hand.
Mostly, it's the sudden turn his moods and his whims take that are so tiring. In the mornings, if we're quick enough, he can eat breakfast at daycare - which is a huge help in getting us out the door with minimal crying from Riley during the 45-minute round-trip trek. However, I ask Holden if he wants waffles or pancakes in a baggy, or does he want to eat at daycare. The other morning, he said: "I eat breakfast with Sylvia (referring to one of his teachers)." A block away, he asked for a waffle. When I told him we didn't have waffles because he wanted to eat at daycare, he burst into tears and, for the next 10 minutes, wailed: "Mommmmmy, I want faaaaawwwfuls." I turned the volume up on the radio.
Above all else, Holden's verbal development in recent months is amazing. We can actually carry on conversations with him about his day, who he played with and his favorite things, which still include mac-cheese and applesauce, the color red and "My Hallie." His voice is sing-songy and sweet and he often punctuates his thoughts with a trill "yeah!" at the end. The best is eavesdropping as he talks to other kids, like his cousins Miles and Chase, and he is talking about everyday things with authority, like when he flew in an airplane to Mexico. Which he did nine months ago!
For the first two years of his life, we didn't let Holden watch television. Then, when we needed him to do it just so we could have a break, he wasn't so interested. Finally, we have found a savior in Dora The Explorer. Yes, we've become Those Parents who park their kid in front of their favorite show (which, thankfully, is always on because of the magic of TiVo), while we tend to other matters. Holden sits still on the couch with Hippo and Dino through entire 25-minute episodes. It's a very interactive show, and he sometimes participates by answering the character's questions out loud. It's always funny to hear him in the morning from the other room say: "The blue triangle! Yeah!"
He all the sudden seems so much less like a baby and more like a boy. Part of it is the physical comparison of him against his brother. All the sudden, Holden is all long legs and big hands. Diapers are quickly becoming a thing of the past as, despite our doubts, Holden is well on his way to being potty trained. For the last two weeks, he's had fewer and fewer accidents and has learned to tell us - sometimes - when he needs to pee.
We're often asked how Holden is reacting to his baby brother. I don't think you can see a truer representation of Holden's warmth than by seeing how he interacts with Riley. No matter how he feels about the attention Riley draws away from him, he is nothing but loving and sharing toward him. He offers his Dino to him when he cries and sings the "ABCs" to soothe him. When he thinks Riley is hungry, he orders me to feed Riley. He's very helpful at diaper changes, where it's his job to put the dirty diaper in the pail, and he's eager to get more blankets or burp cloths. There are nights when Riley is asleep the entire evening up until Holden goes to bed, so Holden always asks to see him. If Riley is awake, Holden won't go to sleep until he can give him a kiss goodnight.
Holden is getting quite adept at prolonging bedtime. Now, as part of our routine, he gets one of us to lay with him for a few minutes. Often, he clings to us and cries as we try to leave. At first, we resisted adding another step to our already drawn-out bedtime rituals. But we figured withholding five minutes of comfort from a kid who needs it is ridiculous. Besides, as we finally admitted to each other, we like that time with him lying in the dark, listening to Guitar Lullabies and talking about the day, or what's coming up in the next one, or not talking at all but cuddling. Holden likes us to rub his back and pet his head, and he often returns the affection: "Mommy, I pet you," he says as he scoots closer to rub his hand all over my face and hair.
There are several things Holden does that I feel I should discourage, but guiltily get pleasure out of. For example, our otherwise outgoing and popular boy often becomes clingy and shy when arriving somewhere to meet other people - even sometimes at his grandparents' houses and daycare. While I try to dislodge his arms from my leg as he quietly holds on, I'm secretly pleased it is me that makes him feel safe. One of his teachers has commented several times about how close Holden is to me. I don't know if she means that as a compliment or not, but I can't think of a better feeling than knowing that, at least for now, Mommy and Daddy are his best friends, his safe-haven, his home, his favorite and his heart. I know it won't be like this forever, and when I dream of the days where he'll be older, more independent and less whiney, I admonish myself to enjoy this special place as long as he'll let me.
