Urban Mama

A Pox On Our House

Our oldest son has a case of breakthrough chicken pox. I knew there was a small (10-15%) chance he could still get it despite the vaccination, but I didn't imagine he would contract it, much less during the penultimate week of first grade. Of course, knowing our family's history with odds and percentages (we're the couple that conceived three babies while using three different forms of birth control), perhaps I should have expected E to get chicken pox.

On the bright side, post-vaccination cases are milder than regular cases. E doesn't have any pockmarks on his face and isn't scratching wildly the way I remember from my own case when I was 12. He's still fairly miserable, but he's not nearly as hysterical his mama was as a tween. I got mine nearly exactly 20 years ago, the summer after 7th grade, and was doomed to spend 10 days stuck in my house -- a real prison sentence for any Florida kid who'd rather be pool-party-hopping.

I allowed E to konk out in my bed. We watched Shrek The Third together and then he drifted off into a four-hour, Benadryl-induced deep sleep. Watching him sleep (yes, that's him in the picture but he was only four then), I remembered that Mami let me stay in her room too, mostly because I had to stay away from my beloved grandmother, who was dying of pancreatic that summer in her own room across the house. It was pretty traumatic for me.

I'm thankful that E's chicken pox doesn't seem nearly as upsetting as mine was, and even though he's missing all but the last two days of first grade, I am determined to make the best of our in-home seclusion. I just PRAY that baby J is spared, because THAT would be traumatic.

Wish us luck, friends. But don't stop by unless you're willing to be exposed to the pox.

The Schmoop Is Six!

The Schmoop turned six on Superbowl Sunday, which was fitting because a) he was born on Superbowl Sunday 2002, and b) the New York Giants won. He had a reptile and amphibian party at the Audubon Naturalist Society with about 14 kindergarten classmates and a couple of neighbors and friends. He and his pals not only got to touch Sam the black rat snake, they also went on a guided hike and saw several deer up close. It was a short but memorable party for our not-quite-so-little boy.

This past year, E has become incredibly independent, which is a sigh of relief since he's about to become a big brother again. Since turning five, he's learned how to  do his entire morning routine (except for making a hot breakfast) with little supervision. He no longer needs help in the bathroom (hooray!) as long as there are toddler wipes at the ready. He is unlocking text and reading short little chapter books. He is a whiz at operating the TV, DVD, XM radio, and any other electronic equipment in the house. He's also inherited his father's curiosity about how things work and are made.

He knows when to come get me if his sister is in (or making) trouble. He adores his four older cousins and constantly asks when he can see them again. He is helpful in many, many ways and cries a whole lot less than he did just a year ago. He has grown at least five or six inches and is somehow one of the taller boys in his class (how this happened, we have no clue). He is showing us glimpses of the kind of gregarious, big-hearted older boy he's growing into all too quickly.

I can still remember every moment of his unexpectedly early labor and birth -- from my water breaking to pushing his head out exactly seven hours later. His birthday is not just an annual commemoration of his life but the anniversary of when the husband and I became parents. He's our firstborn, the guinea pig in the life-long experiment of our parenting skills. We hope he'll forgive our many errors and remember how deeply we love him and delight in his contribution to our family's happiness.

Many thanks to my good friend Bre for custom-stenciling E's birthday snake shirt!

Toothless Wonder

The Schmoop has lost his very first tooth (it's hard to tell, but it's the left bottom front tooth), and is in the process of losing his second. I had no idea that this could be happen at 5 1/2, and for some reason expected another year or so before we had to introduce the Tooth Fairy to our son.

Can my firstborn really be getting "grown up teeth" already? I'm not sure I'm ready for this. Permanent teeth mean the potential for orthodontia. Orthodontia signals preadolescence, and preadolescence means puberty is just around the corner. Stop! I'm not ready for this. I need a few more years of baby teeth and baby interests.

But the Schmoop's body has its own agenda. He's no longer the pipsqueak he was in preschool and, to my surprise, is one of the taller kids in his kindergarten. His voice is alarmingly low for a five-year-old (and indeed has been raspy for a couple of years). He checks out nonfiction books about wildfires, the solar system, paleontology, and natural disasters each week. He helps me parent his sister -- when he's not terrorizing her with his "big brother" proclamations. He's in every way except one (his need to pop into our bed in the middle of the night) a big, big boy.

E will be six and a couple of months when the new baby arrives, and I have no doubt that he will revel in his role as big brother of not one, but two younger sibs. I don't worry about how a newborn will change him, because he's already a bonafide "eldest." I only wish I could be so confident about the Schmoopette. She's the one I'm nervous will regress and resent number three. But the Schmoop is, well, a trooper and a help. I just wish I could somehow slow down his development just a tad, pause a few frames here and there. For now, that means making a big deal about each lost tooth.