Blog Challenge - Day 2.

Day 2.  What makes you uniquely you?

This is something I struggle with.  I have a very mediating personality and like to make other people happy.  Which means I frequently walk a line between caring for myself and caring for others.  So I put who I am away.  A lot.  Too much.  I've been planning some structured recreation of ME, actually, and just this week came across a great structure for it in another blog, Mighty Girl.  Plan to try this.

Who am I?  I like to say I'm behaviorally conservative but politically liberal.  I've actually had strangers sneeringly say things like, "Well, aren't WE the young Republican."  Which I guess means I dress conservatively?  Yes - I'm preppy and mainstream looking.  I have no problem with that.  It's what's easy and comfortable for me, and seems to look right on my body.  I'd look ridiculous is something hipster, or goth, or whatever.  Just not my deal.  The political side is more complicated, because while I used to call myself a liberal, I don't think I can anymore.  I'm an independent?  Or a moderate, maybe?  A friend jokingly called me a safety-net libertarian, because while I dislike government intrusion into areas of morality and generally believe in the free market, I also will happily give up any amount of my income to protect children who need protecting.  That's the safety net part.

I'm fixated on things being evidence-based.  Sure, you need to go with your gut sometimes, but mostly I'd like research to back it up, thank you.  I love everything music and theater, although I haven't indulged those hobbies in a long time.  I can sing, but not enough to want you to listen to me do it alone.  And not in a trained way.  Same for dancing.  Monkey shows all signs of following me down this path, and that makes me indescribably happy.  She doesn't get why I tear up every time she sings along with a show tune or wants to put on a dance show for me.  But that stuff was the happy-center of my childhood, and I'm so delighted to share it with her.

I'm pretty literal, and like things to be straight forward.  I'm a HUGE over-researcher.  Buying a new stroller sends me into catatonic fits.  We'll be applying to Kindergarten for Monkey and preschool for Lion next Fall, and I already have spreadsheets.  I expect to be completely consumed by it.  There's another thing about me - education is incredibly important to me, and I am lucky enough to have grown up believing that you should weigh your options carefully and choose your schools quite actively.  So we're tightening our belts in anticipation of private schools.

Hmmm, what else?  I've always been involved with kids.  I was the 5th grader who preferred to spend recess helping the 2nd graders than playing with my peers, and I actually got invited to one of their birthday parties!  I babysat my way through college, early work years, and grad school, and in our wedding the flower girls were kids I used to sit for routinely and from birth.  My career is focused on the public policy of early childhood, and it's really easy to get me worked up discussing inequities to children in this country.  I'll avoid going there for now, but make no promises about later. 

I'm not sure any of this makes me unique.  Does it?  If not, I'm pretty okay with that.  There's a big gap between being unique and being cookie-cutter.  Or worthless.  Or worthwhile, for that matter.

Baby Lion

This is my sweet, sweet boy. Those big blue eyes take it all in. He's sooo physically active, but calm nonetheless. My mellow child - how did THAT happen? He's persistent, but methodical. He chooses his 'words' carefully, but when he decides to be vocal, look out.

I call him my Lion. He was a Lion (not cowardly!) to his sister's Dorothy for Halloween, and it stuck. Mostly because he pursues whatever he has his eye on. Usually electronics or stairs. Or anything that splashes. Bathroom doors stay shut, since he a) climbs into the tub, b) thinks the toilet seat is a teething ring, and c) SPLASHES.

He identifies that phone from across the room, and moves steadily to claim it. Cannot be distracted. Overcomes obstacles in his path cleanly, silently sneaking up on it until it's in his jaws, before you even knew he was there. Immediately zeroes in on any moving object like he's been programmed for it.

He can be so serious. I'm still getting to know him, but he's his own man. He greets Mommy in the morning with a gleeful, quiet smile. Then starts to climb out of his crib.

My Monkey

My Monkey will be 4 in March. She earned her nicknamed in the womb, when she was so active she could make my necklace dance in meetings. When she was an itty bitty baby, we knew she was sound, super-sound asleep when that last right foot would finally fall still. Even now she is BUSY. Now she jumps and runs and wants to hang upside down or be thrown or tickled or somehow be always in the throes of an extreme. Until, of course, the independent Monkey emerges. Imagining. Then she doesn't need dolls, or toys, or people. Dinner goes uneaten because the Mommy spoon and the Daddy fork are taking baby peas and nuggets on a walk around the plate. She is a creator, a nurturer, an over-enthusiastic hugger. Poor baby brother gets over-hugged ALL the time. Increasingly, we get invited, maybe demanded, to enter her worlds. I am Daddy (or Grammy) to her role as Mommy, or teacher. Lately, I am the Beast to her Beauty.

She is fiery and strong. Oh, my. Firecracker. She knows her mind, and her play is intense. It cannot be interrupted. She is my 'little bit' - always the smallest of her friends but certain she is the biggest. What do you say to the not-even-on-the-growth charts child who declares she is bigger than Daddy? She is so darn cute. Breath-catchingly poised and lovely. I wish strangers would stop saying it, because that isn't what I want her to value about herself, but it is true. A 23 year-old smiles back in her preschool photo; coy and cynical portrait on the playground.

Discipline will be an issue (umm, o.k., it is already)... that much is more obvious each day and I struggle to find effective methods that respect her intelligence and protect her spirit. More on that later. Much, much more, I'm sure. I don't intend to let our mother-daughter bond evolve into a battle of wills.

She is my heart. Who knew I could love something this, this much or with this purpose? She is my deepest insides - the best possible incarnation of me and I know now the reason I am Here. She has all the possibility in the world, and I am constantly cowed by the responsibility of helping her make the most of it. But still, she has always led us. She taught me from the very beginning that I am NOT in control. She knows what she needs, in the big sense, of course, and Mommy can only guide. Occassionally steer. Definitely not row. Monkey rows her own boat.