For the Love of Winston

Three years ago, I gave birth a second time; my second son, my second C-section, my second reminder that I am not in control.  I thought about what another kid would be like, and silly me, I was actually surprised when a whole different child came out that looked and sounded and acted different from the first one.  He came at his own appointed time, not when the doctor wanted or even when I wanted, but a whole two weeks early.  Unlike the first time, my hospital room was not a cocoon for my family for a few days as we got used to each other.  This time, it felt like a cell, keeping me away from my husband who was taking care of the toddler at home, and separating me from the new life that was down the hall in the NICU.  Instead of laying in my bed and cuddling my baby, I was laboriously plodding to my baby's room, getting swollen ankles and passing out in the world's most uncomfortable armchair.  Coming home from the hospital was a relief, but it didn't make life any easier.  Now there were two diapers to change, two different sleep schedules to contend with, and two children of vastly different ages and abilities who wanted me to entertain them, hold them, feed them, and love them.

I'm the second child myself, so I know how it feels to be Winston.  I was always shorter (still am!), always less mature, always sharing the attention of my parents.  Every so often, I buy Winston a new outfit, just so some of his clothes aren't hand-me-downs.  When James was 3 and Winston was 1, we would take our walks around the neighborhood.  Winston was no longer content to sit in a stroller if his big brother was walking on his own, so he would struggle to keep up on his little legs, and eventually give in that he just couldn't do as much as James.  That was also when James was going through a phase of high-fiving each mailbox that we passed (I really have no idea what that was about, but he stopped doing it after a few months, so...).  Even though there was no discernible purpose to it, Winston just had to do whatever his brother was doing.  So the little guy, at least a foot shorter than his brother, would come along behind him, stretching as high as he could to try to touch the mailboxes.  Some were just too high, despite his jumps and tricks to do it.  Being the ridiculous Mommy that I am, I would give him a boost so we could move on to the next one.  Now James likes to wear his Angry Birds shirt every where, and he points to each bird and says, "Angry Bird...shirt!"  And Winston, again being the follower, points to his own shirt, which might have letters or numbers or surfboards on it, and says, "Angry Bird shirt!"

My mom likes to say that I deserve Winston as my child, and she's right that he bears many of my personality traits, as well as being my doppelganger baby.  He's energetic and talkative and weird.  He loves to read books together, and already recognizes several words.  He is the child who can be asked to go play by himself and actually do it.  I like to stand in the hall and listen sometimes, to hear what play he is coming up with on his own.  He is also the child who will always eat off my plate.  I love that we share a love of Chipotle burritoes, guacamole, Greek yogurt, Almond Joy, cashews and pistachios.  I'm not such a fan of other characteristics that he possesses; I don't like when he is bossy or aggressive.  I don't like when he talks back or makes a mess on purpose.  But I also understand that he does these things to stand out and get noticed.  I'm realizing more and more that my role in Winston's life will be to nudge him in the right direction and hope I don't mess up the unique person he is. 

This year, I think we found the perfect way to celebrate Winston's birthday.  We don't have much money to do extra things or give extravagant gifts.  So we let him choose.  We let him decide to go as a family to the zoo.  We let him eat chocolate ice cream cones and cupcakes.  We let him watch Blue's Clues and play Angry Birds Space.  And we gave him attention.  I took him to see a movie at the dollar theater; thank goodness it was cheap, because he fell asleep after about 20 minutes, so I got the treat of seeing a movie and cuddling my boy who is starting to be a little too old for that.  We sat and read books together, we went for walks and picked flowers and wore our sunglasses.  I think we made him feel special.  I think we let him know that he is a valued member of our family.  And now that his birthday is over, we are back to calling the shots and telling him that all he can choose is his attitude.  He is totally his own person, and a completely different challenge for me to parent.  He is my sweetheart.

After running through the rain with Mommy