Dexy's Double Life

I was picking up Dexy from day care the other day, when I discovered something alarming.

I am the mother of an almost-two-year-old double agent.

I picked up my baby boy, brushed the blond hair out of his clear blue eyes, and watched as he popped his left thumb in his mouth so his right hand could grab a hank of my hair.

"Dexy!" his teacher said in scandalized tones. "I didn't know you suck your thumb!"

Excuse me? This child, who, if the ultrasound pictures are any indication, has been sucking his thumb since before his actual birth, doesn't suck his thumb at school?

That's right. Not even at nap time. He just lays down on his cot and goes right to sleep.

Right.

To.

Sleep.

Apparently, at school, the Dexy who requires two parents, an iPod of oldies, and seventeen carefully selected stuffed animals to fall asleep doesn't exist.

Interesting.

At school, Dexy also:

• Lies quietly when his diaper is changed (as opposed to saying, "No, Mommy! No poop!" and kicking/peeing on the diaper-er)
• Eats very neatly, using his utensils. He's the neatest one in the class, she says. You lie, I said, thinking of the spaghetti stains on my ceiling.
• Reads several major world newspapers and provides translations for some of the day care staff.

Okay, I made that last one up. But, still, I am disturbed. Who is this little boy? My Dexy is still my little baby, not this grown-up toddler about to sprout facial hair and football pads.

Then, I realized it:

He's humoring me.

He's staying my baby for me. No, stay with me on this one: he likes being the baby, he knows I like him being my baby, so where's the harm?

I promise, if he's still sucking his thumb when the facial hair and football pads appear, I'll put a stop to it.

Probably.

Let the Punishment Fit the Crime

Princess is in trouble.

Apparently, the following exchange took place at school yesterday:

Teacher: Children, you need to be quiet.

Princess: No, YOU need to be quiet!

My child.

Princess met me at school with her head hung down in shame. She wouldn't meet my eyes. When we got to the car and I managed to get her chin up, the corners of her mouth were turned down so low I thought they would meet underneath.

"It was an accident!" she wailed. "I didn't mean to be bad!"

"I'm not happy," I answered, Stern Mommy face in place. I knew I had to play the big card. "Wait until I tell Daddy about this."

"Aaaahhh," Princess wailed from the carseat. "I didn't mean to be bad! It was an accident!"

When we got home, Princess was sent to her room while Sven and I deliberated. We decided on the following punishment:

1. No cupcake. (My cousins sent me home with cupcakes last weekend, it's not like we constantly have cupcakes in the house to withdraw from the children for misbehavior.)

2. Removal of the DVD player from her room for the night. (Yes, she has a portable DVD player that she keeps in her room. I hear you, Mom.)

News of this punishment was greeted with the same level of distress that I imagine would result from a group of Lord of the Rings fans being told that Peter Jackson won't be directing the film version of "The Hobbit." Teeth were gnashed. Hair was pulled. Clothing was rent. She didn't have access to ashes or sackcloth, but you get the idea.

"Thank goodness we had the foresight to shower our children with a ridiculous amount of material objects, so we now have things to take away!" I said to Sven.

"I agree," he said.

Today, she was wonderful. A peach. She apologized to the teacher and played nicely all day. All is well.

Here's the problem:

Removing the DVD player caused her to sleep. Most of the night. She never does that. Now, I don't want to give the DVD player back.

I'll think of something...

Beginning of Summer: How Things Change

During the school year, Sven and I have precious little time to parent. We leave the house before 7:00 a.m. (if we're on time) and the earliest I get the kids is 3:45. A more typical day has me getting there at 4:30 or even later. By the time we get them home and feed them, there's not much left. Each child has devised a way to combat this: Princess stays up all night, and Dexy only sleeps when he's in our bed. We figure it's only fair; they want to spend time with us at night since they can't during the day.

Enter summer. For 10-12 straight bewildering weeks, Sven and I are both stay at home parents. You can see the euphoria in the eyes of my children. Mommy and Daddy at our mercy 24 hours a day! Again, each has devised a particular way to take advantage of the additional Mommy/Daddy time.

Dexy is injuring himself to get kisses. I watched him yesterday slowly lower himself to the floor (picture big toddler belly and fat toddler legs), put his head on the linoleum, and gently bonk his head. He stood up, rubbing his head, and his eyes found me.

"Ouch," he moaned, sounding not at all like E.T.

"Oh, sweet baby," I crooned. "Do you need a kiss?" Eyes solemn, he nodded, presenting his golden little head for me to kiss. He has now thus "injured" himself approximately once every fifteen minutes for the past two days. I am now typing this one handed, since Dexy is in my left arm, a fistful of my hair and his own thumb providing comfort.

Princess, on the other hand, is alternating between really excellent behavior and tantrum-throwing brattiness. Sven has decided to deal with this by spending more time with her (yay!) and teaching her to be more like him (yay?). So far her innate femininity has conquered his attempt to get her to befriend the backyard junebugs (my least favorite outdoor summer flying non-biting insect) and wear t-shirts and shorts. On the other hand, she can name several different species of sharks and dinosaurs and demonstrated the correct way to throw a punch tonight.

We are so very grateful for the loves my kids have in common:

1. Swimming

2. Backyardigans (For Kristina: The Backyardigans is a show on Nickelodeon featuring three improbably-colored, incorrectly scaled animal kids (see image below) who imagine themselves in different situations each week. They dance and sing in different styles every week, familiarizing children with genres such as rap, zydeco, and Gilbert and Sullivan. Seriously. I love this show.)

3. Spongebob

4. Shrieking

5. Inappropriate TV (The Simpsons, Family Guy, Futurama, CNN)

The first part of every vacation is spent reasserting our dominance. Princess meets every command with "No" and Dexy just grins and runs away. I know it will be a rough couple of days, but a wonderful summer awaits us.

Really.

I hope.

Adventures In Surgery

Today, my little baby Dexy, my boy, my prince, had surgery.

Yes, it was outpatient surgery, "minor" surgery, if you will, but that begs the question: is any surgery performed on your 18-month-old son and heir "minor?" I would say not.

Dexy suffers, as many children do, from inadequate eustachian tube development. (His ear canal-thingy is too short.) This causes him to get fluid buildup behind his eardrum, which causes him to lose hearing and delays speech development. It also makes him more likely to get ear infections. To remedy this situation, the doctors cut tiny holes in the eardrum, drain the fluid, and place eensy weensy tubes in the holes to allow future fluid buildup to drain. (See image below):

If you're anything like me, hearing this caused you to nod wisely, then hyperventilate and pass out. They intend to CUT MY SON'S EARDRUM to fix some piddly little ear infection? Really? After all of the literature you've given me telling me how I will go to jail for child endangerment if I use a Q-tip in his ear, you're going to CUT MY SON'S EARDRUM to fix his ears?

Fortunately, I'm married to one of the most level-headed men in the world, Sven (see image below):

Sven wisely reminded me that the doctor knew what he was talking about (since, technically, a degree in music doesn't make me an expert on the ear), and we had this same procedure done on Princess over two years ago, and she's fine.

All would have been well, except the doctor continued his sentence. They also planned to remove my son's androids. (See image below):

Androids are part of the "useless system," a group of organs that exist solely to become infected so that surgeons can practice procedures that end in "-ectomy." In addition to the androids, this little-studied group of organs includes the tonsils, the appendix, the spleen, the glossary, the nostril hair, the bibliography, the third nipple, and Perez Hilton (see image below):

{Edit: I have just been informed by Sven that the doctor actually removed Dexy's adenoids, as pictured below:

This means his androids are still intact, exploring strange new worlds, seeking out new life and new civilizations, boldly going where no one has gone before. I apologize for the confusion.}

As I have learned in recent years, part of the price one pays for quality medical care is time. To prove you are really serious about obtaining whatever procedure you have been instructed to receive, you are required to arrive a ridiculous amount of time before the procedure and sit, useless, quivering with tension, until the idea of cutting open your eardrum seems pleasant. The amount of time you will spend waiting is directly proportional to the seriousness of the procedure. We were instructed to report at 7:15 for Dexy's scheduled 9:15 procedure, an outpatient surgery that actually took about 30 minutes to perform. We then had to wait in recovery until Dexy's doctor had time to discharge us, so we actually left the hospital around 12:30. I consider us lucky. If they had decided to remove his tonsils, we would have been required to report sometime in March.

But seriously, the hospital (see image below) was great.

Texas Children's Hospital is truly top-notch. Our doctor, who I will call Dr. Donuts, was a gentleman and very reassuring. Proving to me that we made the right choice, he called us at home around 9:00 to make sure Dexy was doing well. That makes up for at least 4 hours of useless waiting.

Also wonderful was the small toy Sven purchased at the hospital gift shop to "cheer the kid up." (See image below):

(When I say "small," I am lying. This stuffed dog is substantially larger than Dexy. He refused to let it go once he regained consciousness, meaning I carried him, clutching this giant dog, through the hospital and to the car in Houston humidity. Also ironic is that this dog was purchased at the insistence of Sven, who gives me the fish eye every time I buy something for the kids, because "we don't have room for any more stuff." I called him a softie, to his face, and he didn't deny it.)

The surgery went well. Unfortunately, the doctor found that the adenoids were larger than he expected, and the infection around them was more severe than the thought, so Dexy was in quite a bit more pain than is typical for these sorts of procedures, necessitating additional morphine. Also, the adenoid removal makes his breath smell like nothing I've ever encountered, and that is saying something. However, in signature Dexy style, he has been playing and babbling some tonight and has consumed respectable amounts of applesauce, vanilla ice cream, and macaroni & cheese.

It has been quite a day. I'm off to bed, next to my snoring, stinky little prince. Our hope is that in a few short days we will have a healthier, happier Dexy, and thus a healthier, happier family. Have a great summer, everybody.

I Like Mondays: End of Year

Here are the five reasons I like Mondays this week:

1. Today is the last Monday of the 2008-2009 school year. Yes, I am still teaching this week. Today some of my very special students earned a Cheeto party. The scent of corn, powdered cheese, and puberty is a pervasive, compelling odor that I'm sure to be scrubbing from my nostrils in the days to come.

2. Though I am suffering from one of the all-time great sinus infections this world has ever known, I have found a smell that breaks through to my long-abused odor receptors: corn, powdered cheese, and puberty. Ahhh.

3. Dexy is having surgery this week. I am intermittently crying and shaking at the prospect, but I'm being assured by parents, doctors, teachers, virtual friends, and strangers on the street that his health will improve greatly once the surgery is over. (Dexy is having tubes placed in both ears and his adenoids are being removed.) His surgery will be Wednesday morning, please think of us!

4. The MTV Movie Awards contained what I felt to be the appropriate amount of Robert Pattinson exposure. And who knew Jim Carrey could still be funny? Surprises all around! Except for the awards, of course- everybody knew who was going to win.

5. Princess helped her daddy make supper last night. Macaroni and cheese. Kraft. Blue box. Classic. Princess helped pour in the macaroni, stir up the "cheese," and ate FOUR BOWLS of her handiwork. Sven, showing amazing initiative, heard on the radio that one way to encourage picky eaters to eat more was to have them help prepare the food. Miss Picky ate enough for Sven to declare the experiment a rousing success.

For her part, Princess told her daddy, "This is the best macaroni and cheese I ever had!"

Swish!

Exotic Language

My darling adorable gifted talented perfect boy, Dexy, will be 18 months old this month.

He has been "talking" for months, but his random sounds are now resembling actual words more and more. He can say a few things clearly:

"What's that?"

"Mommy"

"Daddy"

"Belly"

"Ball"

"No"

"Please"

"Spongebob"

"Federal bailout" (We watch the news a lot in the morning. He calls Diane Sawyer "Granny.") (Just kidding, Mom.)

He has another list of words, ones I understand but no one else does. In his little baby voice, they sound like exotic locations accessible only by yak-herding Sherpas.

"Tu to!" (Cartoon: it means he wants to watch Pixar shorts on the Macbook.)

"Ga-Ma!" (Grandma, who he adores because she is so firm and strict.) (Ha! Ha!)

"Ju-jo-jo!" (Princess; these syllables vaguely resemble her nickname.)

"Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma ma ma!" (Snack.)

"Ooooooh." (I think I have something in my diaper requiring immediate attention.)

"Sah na bo. Deeee!" (I love Beyonce.)

Dexy is growing up. While there are many parts of babyhood I look forward to leaving behind, I love the sound of his little voice, earnestly communicating what he thinks is important. Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, sister, snacks, cartoons, and Beyonce...it sounds like a happy life to me.