All By Myself!

Nicholas has a new mantra: "I can do it ALL BY MYSELF!" He says it about everything from putting jelly on his waffle to putting on his shirt in the morning. He is very proud about this budding independence of his.


"Nicholas, come brush your teeth," I tell him as I get the toothpaste and toothbrush out.

"I can do it all by myself," he demands as he grabs the toothpaste from me and squeezes twice the amount he needs onto the toothbrush.

I try to let him do as much by himself as he can for I know this is important for his development. He'll ask me for help when he needs it, which is often. This morning he wanted to get dressed right after he got up. While I tried to clear my head for the day he went into his room, took off his pajamas, picked out a shirt, put it on, put some underwear on, and came to get me to get him some pants.

"Do you want to wear jeans or sweatpants today?" I asked him.

"Sweatpants," he said. I picked out a pair of sweatpants and automatically held them so he could step into them.

"Mom!" he cried. "I can do it all by myself!"

"I can do it all by myself." These words are music to my ears for up until about a month ago he could never bear to be without me.

From the time this child entered the world we were stuck together like glue. I knew right from the start that he was going to give us a run for our money. When Michael was born he didn't cry at all; he just looked around taking it all in (and to this day he is the same way - he absorbs his environment). Not Nicholas. He came out screaming and crying and wouldn't calm down until he was handed to his mother and put to the breast.

As an infant, Nicholas liked to be held and if you put him down he would scream and cry until you picked him up again. Eventually we were able to put him in his swing for a long nap. At 6 weeks old he slept through the night for 10 hours at a stretch. How we celebrated when this happened. Unfortunately it was short lived and then his need for me was so much more intense. It was a need, too. He just wouldn't be satisfied with anyone - not Daddy, not Grandma or Grandpa - unless it was Mom.

Last month, much to my delight, he took a couple major steps forward in the "All by myself" campaign. First he mastered going poop in the potty almost overnight (going pee pee took a little longer but now I don't have to constantly hound him about going every 30 minutes), and then he started preschool AND had a sleepover by himself at Grandma's all on the same day.

I was floored by the grace in which he executed the latter two steps. The first day of preschool he walked through the door full of confidence and delight. I hung around for about 5 minutes and then told him I was going to go but I would be back to pick him up soon.

"Ok, Mom," he said and gave me a hug, then went back to playing with blocks. As I walked out the door I was surprised to find that I was tearing up, partly with joy at how easily we parted and partly with sadness that my baby was already hitting this milestone. I kept my cell phone on as I ran errands, expecting to get a call that he was inconsolable and needed me, but the call didn't come. When I picked him up he was excited to see me and so proud of himself for staying all by himself.

That same afternoon we went over to my mom's house to visit and celebrate his first day of preschool. I don't know if he was still riding the high of his newfound independance or just trying to see how brave he could be, but I know that I just about fell on my face when he uttered these words that my mom had been waiting almost 3 years to hear: "Grandma, can I have a sleepover?"

Of course she didn't say no so we went home and packed his suitcase. Upon dropping him off, I told my mom to call if I needed to come pick him up, even if it was at 3:00 in the morning. Then I went home to wait for that phone call. O ye of little faith, I thought ashamedly.

That night I had the best sleep I've had for about 5 years. I didn't wake up once - the phone never rang. I waited until I got Michael off to school then called my mom, anxious to hear the report.

Apparently Nicholas had the best sleep he's ever had too. "He didn't wake up once," my mom told me. "He was happy and didn't even cry for his mommy."

I was so excited for him and for myself. This was nothing short of a miracle! My clingy babe was turning into an independant little boy. I could see my future opening before my eyes: weekends away with the girls, trips away with my husband. Finally I would have some freedom!

In a fairy tale, this is just what would happen: Nicholas would continue to love being apart from his mom and be content to go to school by himself and have sleepovers away from home all the time. Alas, he fell victim to the two steps forward one step back rule of thumb.

In a few weeks he decided that he really didn't like going to preschool without me and began screaming and crying when I would leave him. His teacher and I decided that in order to prevent him from being traumatized from school forever that it was in his best interest if we pulled him from the program. It broke my heart to do so because we love this teacher and this particular preschool program, but he hasn't mentioned going back ever since so I know that it was the right thing to do. As far as sleepovers, well, he likes the idea of having one, but when it gets down to the time when Mom or Dad has to leave, he decides that he wants to go too.

And so I get what I had wanted in the first place: more quality time with my second-born son. Weekends away will just have to wait a little longer, but I'm taking time for myself at night or on the weekend. And Nicholas, well, he is still asserting himself and his independance, this time by tackling tasks like pouring cereal and milk into a bowl by himself or getting the juice out of the refrigerator.