Houston, TX

Ever since my son, Zac, hit the 18 month mark, his separation anxiety increased exponentially. Suddenly, he was terrified that I was going to leave him, even as we were walking out the door together. Life down at the three-foot level didn’t suit him much. He wanted to be up near me - ALL THE TIME.

After three months of carrying his almost 30 pound body everywhere, my shoulders ached and my well-defined bicep muscles in my arms were getting stonger as my frustration level increased.

“Why won’t my son walk!” I’d scream to just about anyone that would listen (sorry stranger at the corner of 18th and T.C. Jester, I didn’t mean to scare you). The short answer, of course, is that he would walk when he wanted to. If I was around, he didn’t want to. He wanted me to carry him everywhere and even created a word to express his desire, “Kuukie”. If you don’t speaker toddler, I can tell you that stands for, “Carry me, Mommy!”

I reached out to my local Freecycle group and sent out a Wanted ad for a sling. The inimitable fountain of slings, pouches and all baby-wearing tools and tips, Tori Prophet, responded to me. She mailed me the sling and a couple days later, Zac and I were trying out a Mei Tai sling for the first time.

Since Zac is older, he always wants to be on my hip or on my back, which isn’t the easiest maneuver when you’re by yourself in an apartment trying to figure out how to strap a screaming toddler to yourself.

Then this weekend, I went to the Houston chapter meeting of Nine In - Nine Out as part of the Houston Baby Wearersyahoo group.

The meeting was hosted in a beautiful home in the Heights where my friend Miranda and I got to meet Tori in person and check out all the fun slings and pouches that she had brought along. One of the other Moms there had a Mama’s Milksling that Zac and I tried and fell in love with. It’s adjustable and incredibly easy to get a squirming kiddo in and out of.

I’ve been thinking about the sling all weekend and wondering if I should buy an early Mother’s Day present for myself and get one, even though Zac may only use for a year or so.

Maybe one day, I can convince my son to walk. I have to believe that if he’s ever going to reach puberty, that I won’t have to strap him to my body to go to his first dance, but I will if that’s what it takes to get him to stop whining.

I grew up outside of Seattle, WA, so I expect rain every now and then. Actually, I learned in Mongolia that months without rain leave me stir crazy and staring up at the sky wondering when I’ll get a good opportunity to not leave the house all day and read a book.

The rain in Houston, though, is like nothing I have ever seen. It rains in torrential sheets. It’s angry, fierce rain that causes almost instaneous flooding in at least 15 spots around town.

Last night, the storm that worked its way through the Mid-West ended up in Houston and traveled down to Mexico. At 8pm, I started to hear the wind howl outside the window in my third story apartment. At 10:30pm, the power started flickering on and off, causing all of clocks in my house to start flashing 12:00am and my digital cable to reboot itself at least five times.

In my new apartment, my son and I sleep at opposite ends of the small space. It’s just far enough that I get paranoid that something might happen to him and I won’t hear it. Last night I was lying in bed listening to the wind and the rain smack at my bedroom window thinking, “What if a tree branch breaks off and smashes his window and I don’t hear it? Then he’ll get up and toddle over to the window to see what happened, cut his foot on a piece of broken glass while tripping and diving head first out the window. All because I let my BAAAABBBBBYYYYY sleep alone during a storm!”

Clearly, I need get out more.

I went to Zac and picked up all 28 sweaty pound of toddler and took him to my bed with me. I undressed him from his too-hot pajamas after the power tripped the air conditioning off again and I slept with his hands cluching my arm and his left foot on my kidney.

In the morning, instead of being cranky and fussy, he woke up next to me and looked the happiest that I have seen him in a long time. He laid his head on my shoulder and we watched the opening of the morning cartoons together.

If it weren’t for stories like this, I would be thankful for the storm.

Houston, Weather, Storms, Parenting, Toddlers