Dear #3,
I fear this is probably at least a little my fault. You seem to be taking on a few of my more undesireable traits as of late, namely your lack of punctuality (well, you’re not early by any stretch), but I’m also psyschanalyzing that you have a bit of a fear of the unknown and a tendency to stick with what is comfortable and familiar.

Apparently, we’ll be learning to overcome these things together in the next few months.

It’s been a good ride so far, these past 9 months. But honestly, it’s time to pull your own weight. Well, I’ve been pulling both of our weight the whole time, but you’re getting to be big enough that perhaps you can share some of the load. I don’t expect you to be mobile at first appearances, but I’m not going to lie: I look forward to the time I can lay you down or hand you off and have a bit of… space. But back to our good times together.

I’m glad I could be the hostest of the mostest. I’m sure the consistently regulated temperature and constant food sourcing are amenities that you don’t want to leave behind. It is July afterall, and this heat-regulation skill can be tricky. But I do promise a life of good food ahead of you. Our hospital serves the best chicken tenders, and well, what I eat, you eat. Eating is one of my marketable skills. I like food. Fair season is approaching, so there is bound to be some delicious fried dough with sugar, accompanied by some sort of slushie. So, I hope that might lure your tastebuds in the right direction.

Comforts and luxuries, like an umbilical cord, are nice for the beginning stages of life, but I have to say, if you stay in there forever you’re really going to miss out on the real show. You might eat like royalty and sleep on a whim, but you’ll miss out on exciting things. Like your brother and sister’s singing. Or better yet, your dad’s dancing. You don’t get comedy like that where you’re living right now.

It might be scary at first. It’s okay if you cry on arrival; we all do. But this Big World is full of far more joys and excitement and love than it is with hurt and pain and evil. Those things might linger nearby and can even sometimes overwhelm us, but I promise they don’t win.

So, I’m asking – as your mother – to please join us. It’ll be much more fun if you participate, rather than just evesdropping through the walls. You have a fan club awaiting, people who love you already and can’t wait to put a face and a name to an idea in our heads and hearts. We want you to join in the cuddles and the loudness and even in the challenges of Family Life, because we know it’s better when you live it together.

We hope to see you very soon. Though middle of the night guests aren’t always appreciated, we’ll make exceptions in these situations as I know you might be lacking access to a clock. So, whenever is fine. We’re waiting on you.
Love,
Mom
(on behalf of Dad, H boy and Miss M)

 Today I expressed a growing fear about giving birth to this baby, now projected to be near 8.5 pounds in size and apparently nowhere near ready to make an exit. I was informed by a young guy that “that was nothing” because he knew someone close to him to have had a child well over 9 pounds.
Dear Sir, let me take opportunity to educate you that you earn the right to make certain statements only after you “push one out” yourself.

You only need to know me a brief while to realize I’m a bit of a geek. It’s okay, I’m fine with it. I tend to find some of the most random subjects of conversation appealing and intriguing. Often I’ll read a book on a topic that to many may seem sad or weird or, well, geeky, but I can’t contain the curiosity.
Given my previous experiences with teenagers (and my continued love for them), Marko’s blog about extended adolesence had my mind whirling. I find it all absolutely fascinating. I asked him for further reads on the subject (currently The Primal Teen) and I’m passing my overly-nonnatal afternoons with reading up on the teenage brain.
Today’s snippet (I’ll give you the Cliff’s notes version; I’ve learned most people can’t stick with me on these kinds of escapades) . ED: skip about 3 more paragraphs to get the real point) involved the emergence of a new understanding regarding the teenage brain, namely that there’s a growth spurt of sorts that rivals that of toddlerhood in the front of the brain – the area that helps us reason and plan and think.
The author cites several studies and summarizes that basically brain development is the continued path toward learning impulse control. She quotes a neuroscience as saying “development is progressive inhibition.” Basically, it’s not that we’re necessarily learning new tasks all the time, but that we’re also learning not to mimic certain behaviors at specific points in time. I’d like to make friends with a neuroscientist so s/he could tell me that I’m right when I say that learning comes through mimicking or mirroring behavior and repetition of the task (oh, toddlerhood, there you are again!), while maturity correlates to the ability to stop the behavior at appropriate times. So, H learns about going potty n through watching, imitating and repetition. He becomes a mature pee-er when he stops doing it in the front lawn.
Now, how can you not find that fascinating??? Brain development and maturity is not simply the addition of new skills, but the control of response with the skills you already have. Think about some of the most immature adults you know (and please don’t mention that Yours Truly made the list). Most/many of their less marketable qualities can probably be tossed into a pile of lack of impulse control… say, over what comes out of their mouths (ahem… oh, hey there Pot! It’s Kettle…), issues with anger, etc.
So, here’s my deeper thought related to how this affects Yours Truly, one currently without teenagers but who loves them so. I believe firmly in the “takes a village” philosophy; teenagers and children need strong relationships with non-parental adults (another interesting read on that by Rage Against the Minivan). I love building relationships with young people because they’re interesting, they have their eyes open to things I don’t see, and they’re better at keeping me hip and well dressed. But I also believe they need adult relationships through the process of becoming an adult. And I hope – pray! – that other wonderful adults will feel similarly when my own children are navigating the stormy seas of adolescence. Or childhood. Or adulthood. Face it, we all need lots of love.
And in our relationships with these young, easily-shaped-yet-perhaps-not-so-good-at-impulse-control minds, perhaps in the back of our heads we can remember that what would benefit these brains the most is setting an example of limits. Here’s how to say no. This is what it means to draw a healthy boundary. And if we’re honest, adults nowadays aren’t so great at that. Our generation (and a few ahead of us) really kind of stink at saying no to working when we should be resting. We feel like over-involvement is a better option and sign ourselves – and maybe our kids – up for more than the household can handle. We buy more than we can afford and can’t resist a good splurge.
I read a recent FB post that said that it’s not what we want that is the problem, it’s how badly we want it (TOTAL paraphrase). And I think part of teaching our children, and teens, what it means to be an adult is to live a life that knows a bit about self-control (I promise, I don’t have inner control issues or anything…). Or maybe it’s not so much about “self-control” but about purposeful living. Taking action because you believe it to be so and not just because we’re driven by society or a whim.
But it’s just a thought.