Just a quick note or two about the last few days. Saturday Linda had concerns about Lauren not holding her arms up and drinking milk from a bottle, as we've moved them into booster seats and they have to do it themselves. Later I tried an experiment and put a magazine under her and gave her juice in a cup. the magazine raised her to a level that allowed her head to go back and she drank fine, so it's a combo of the chair and not 'wanting' to do the work for the milk. We can blame her when it's been the other way her whole life. All 12 months.
We also went to see the neurologist, Dr. Kokairi, today. He feels she's showing all signs of normal development and noted nothing to be concerned about.
Tommy's been lots of fun but still hits her and pulls her hair. Today, while bathing, I started to remove his diaper and there was poop in it, and when lifting him without securing it, it ended up on me. My first smearing. lovely.
Last night he woke up when Linda went into the room and was really crying hard. I went in and held him and he immediately stopped and totally fell asleep on my shoulder but each attempt to return him to his crib was met with more crying and tears. After a couple attempts, I had to leave and let him cry it out. It was tough and more frustrating than I should let it be. Sometimes it's not easy to remember that crying is their only means of communication and not based on anything with ill intent. Fortunately, he fell asleep quickly, as did I, and as I will again now.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
My Earliest Memory
My first memory as a child is pretty detailed and exact. That's a little freaky, actually, as it seems unnatural to have so precise a memory from what had to have been a very early age, but I do have it nonetheless.
I vividly recall being an infant and standing in a crib or playpen in the living room of the Friar Street house. The crib would have been positioned near or against the wall separating the kitchen and the living room, being the opposite wall from the wood-paneling where the couch was located. I remember this because from that vantage point I could see the front door, the hallway to the back bedrooms, and the white concrete brick room dividers.
There was somebody else in the room, walking towards/by me, and talking. I don't believe it was my mother but bore a resemblance, making me suspect it was her sister, Violet. Violet did actually live with us for a time, but I don't believe that was in this time frame but later, when I was older.
In this instance, whoever it was that was walking into/through the room caught my attention and I wanted them to come to pick me up. That's the really striking thing about this, I specifically remember the view from within the crib, inclusive of the railings. I remember the thoughts of wanting to be seen, and the satisfaction/ realization that I had been seen, was going to be picked up and was picked up. I remember having the actual thoughts that would equate to 'look at me, look at me, look at me' while bouncing up and down and looking at her. I remember having the thoughts to myself of 'Yes! I've been seen, and she's coming over!". I got lifted up, hugged, kissed or patted, and put back down shortly thereafter.
When being set back down, I had the distinct thoughts of 'well, that was nice' and feelings of satisfaction.
I had no vocabulary, no understanding of the structures of the English language, and no other foundations for my having those thoughts than the pure emotional desire for that experience. But I do know, though, with complete certainty, that I have that absolute memory, and it's the only one I have for many years to follow.
I vividly recall being an infant and standing in a crib or playpen in the living room of the Friar Street house. The crib would have been positioned near or against the wall separating the kitchen and the living room, being the opposite wall from the wood-paneling where the couch was located. I remember this because from that vantage point I could see the front door, the hallway to the back bedrooms, and the white concrete brick room dividers.
There was somebody else in the room, walking towards/by me, and talking. I don't believe it was my mother but bore a resemblance, making me suspect it was her sister, Violet. Violet did actually live with us for a time, but I don't believe that was in this time frame but later, when I was older.
In this instance, whoever it was that was walking into/through the room caught my attention and I wanted them to come to pick me up. That's the really striking thing about this, I specifically remember the view from within the crib, inclusive of the railings. I remember the thoughts of wanting to be seen, and the satisfaction/ realization that I had been seen, was going to be picked up and was picked up. I remember having the actual thoughts that would equate to 'look at me, look at me, look at me' while bouncing up and down and looking at her. I remember having the thoughts to myself of 'Yes! I've been seen, and she's coming over!". I got lifted up, hugged, kissed or patted, and put back down shortly thereafter.
When being set back down, I had the distinct thoughts of 'well, that was nice' and feelings of satisfaction.
I had no vocabulary, no understanding of the structures of the English language, and no other foundations for my having those thoughts than the pure emotional desire for that experience. But I do know, though, with complete certainty, that I have that absolute memory, and it's the only one I have for many years to follow.
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