Every night I soak up the opportunity to hold and snuggle my little boy. I put him to bed with a warm bottle, a rocking chair, his blankie, and singing. I always end with the same song. This post is about the last song.
I sing the final song to the tune of "Where is Thumbkin?", but I make up my own lyrics. I remember singing this song to Waffles when he was a little boy. I'd sing "Where is ____" and fill in the blank with the names of his cousins, friends, and grandparents. I'd make up lyrics and Waffles always loved the routine of his special bedtime song.
Like big brother like little brother - Blueberry snuggles into me, sighs, and I can feel his contented spirit when I sing. He just loves this "Where Is?" song. I have often thought this song anchors my littlest boy in his world, just like it anchored my biggest boy in his world. And yet, for him the anchor necessarily different. Blueberry lives in a house with big kids who come and go in ways I imagine must sometimes perplex Blueberry. So I sing. I sing order, routine, and security into his night and on into his day.
The reality is that Twinkletoes and Songbird are at college. They come home sometimes. They come home for holiday breaks. But, they essentially live away from home. And Waffles only lives with us part time. Every two weeks Waffles leaves and doesn't return until two weeks later. We might see him during the time he's with his dad, and we make good efforts to see him, and him us, but this is hit and miss. Our cat is even a 'shared' pet. I try to make sense of Blueberry's revolving house door with song.
Here are examples of my silly, made up, amateur, goofy lyrics. (To the tune of Thumbkin - more or less)
"Where is Songbird? Where is songbird? She's in college, she's doing homework. Songbird is in college, she is reading books and working hard, we miss her."
"Where is Herbie? Where is Herbie? He's sleeping now, on the floor. Herbie is a good dog, he ran and played today, now he's tired, he's asleep."
"Where is Grandma? Where is Grandma? She's at home, on the island. Grandma is reading her book, it is a dark night, she's going to bed soon, just like you."
I go on and on...anchoring, making familiar, finding ways to tell a little boy it's ok to go to sleep, just like everyone he loves and everyone who loves him. I mention the boys with whom he stays when I work, the friend we walk with every Thursday, our playgroup friends, my sister and brother and their kids.
It's our routine, and WE LOVE IT!
Your little bro is a total hurricane of "NO" and "MINE" and "YOU'RE NOT DOING THAT THE WAY I WANT YOU TO!" (He doesn't talk, so this message is all conveyed very loudly through yelling, yanking on my arm, pulling my hand, crying, and occassional full body throw downs accompanied by alligator tears). Seriously, I feel like I am parenting a hurricane! Plan on helping your 'ol mom out over winter break, K? The well only runneth so deep.
Very intense behavior - all day, all the time. I'm wiped out. Blueberry is eating/grazing non-stop (and the diapering is endless!). He wants to play in the sink, he wants to play outside, he wants to eat, he wants to sit in a different chair, he yells "mine!" "NO!" at every opportunity. He wants to snack while sitting outside in his sled while I pull him around. What???? I hope this little 'blip' doesn't blip too much longer - because it is hard to be 'good' all the time when a little person is contantly shifting gears; going from tugging on my arm and pulling my hand to his next desire, to throwing himself down with abandon over some 'wrong.' Whew. I'm looking forward to the next shift for Blueberry- because if I can count on anything, I can count on change. Today, change is welcome!
My 'opportunities' to parent are different with each child. I think that's the way it is with children. This isn't a one size fits all family. For instance, Twinkletoes, who is now 19 live(d) here full time, at least up until she started college. For good reasons, about 5 years ago she stopped doing shared placement and stayed here full time. Thus, this was an obvious solo parenting experience. Living with me full time was the right decision for her. She's a super independent, focused, and self-disciplined young woman - so not much parenting required. Even though this is the case, presence has always been important with Twinkletoes. She's grown into an amazing young woman in my presence. Presence: that's the covenant of being a parent, in my opinion (and experience). Songbird is 21 now. She's a joyful, happy, gentle spirit and old soul. Parenting her has been about listening and being open and ready to receive her wisdom and insight. While my parenting didn't involve too many interventions, the experience with her has been close and emotionally lively. Listening: another one of the covenants of parenting. 
Waffles brings up the biggie rear. I've got a fresh parenting story about Waffles. He's a great kid. He's my first boy. For a long time I thought he'd be my only boy. I've always called him my pudding. He is such a free spirit with such a laugh and a sense of fun and silly. I'm crazy about this boy. I'm more 'in' the parenting space with Waffles. And, although he is 17, he's still under the parental radar on lots of issues. Case in point. Today was the day we decided to get him a new snowboard. He had picked out a board - Rome Artifact. It was the board he wanted. He liked the quality, he liked the brand, the price was great at his board shop. The graphics/content didn't matter to him. In fact, in lots of ways he didn't "see" it, and at least not the way I did. It mattered to me. I said no to this board. He didn't flinch (much). So, one of the covenants of parenting is saying "no." There was no backup for this parenting moment. There was no feedback. Just my boy and me - working it out. 
Like big brother like little brother - Blueberry snuggles into me, sighs, and I can feel his contented spirit when I sing. He just loves this "Where Is?" song. I have often thought this song anchors my littlest boy in his world, just like it anchored my biggest boy in his world. And yet, for him the anchor necessarily different. Blueberry lives in a house with big kids who come and go in ways I imagine must sometimes perplex Blueberry. So I sing. I sing order, routine, and security into his night and on into his day. 
