Desensitized

I know I’ve mentioned before that Cyrus is often difficult to read. His emotional expression is often extremely subtle and easy to misinterpret if you don’t spend a lot of time with him. But over the years, I have learned to recognize the face he makes when he wants a pacifier, and the sound he makes when he wants to be out of his chair or is tired or uncomfortable. Or when he’s out of it and probably just had a seizure. He still rarely ever cries so when he whimpers my heart breaks because that is usually the top and I know that he’s miserable, but I don’t necessarily have any idea why. There’s a particular grimace that even his therapists mistake for a smile. Though I’m happy to say he’s never been able to fool his classroom teachers!

Then, when he actually cries (happens like maybe five times a year) that’s the end of the world. Luckily his good moods are hard to miss, and are to be cherished because sometimes they become rare. 

Then we have Miss Eliana. She smiles at the drop of a freaking hat. The girl is just so social and her face lights up! She also screams anytime mommy walks out of the room. She cries often and I have more reason than most to recognize that’s a good thing even when I want to pull my hair out. It’s a good thing because it makes us pay attention and her needs get met. She’s constantly giving bids for attention and it feels so natural to respond.

But in learning to meet her needs, I have caught myself missing Cyrus’s subtle signals. Like she is so loud and he is the most soft-spoken creature. Even when I’m looking right at him or playing with him, she will talk, yell, or whatever, and I turn to her instead.

I have caught myself being a little desensitized to him and I’m struggling to find a way to balance meeting both of their physical, and especially emotional needs. Of course, Kyle is here too, but it’s still difficult because he and I have needs too! (Really, I think you need three adults to make a household work. One to watch the kids, one to do chores, and one is taking a break. Roles then rotate as needed!) 

I’m pretty good at meeting her emotional needs most of the time. (Though, this four-month cognitive leap and sleep regression is absolutely brutal! Just when you think you’ve got this baby thing down, they go and change all the rules on you). But when Cyrus is having a seizure, or I’m giving him meds, she often has to wait. Like her emotional needs get prioritized over his emotional needs just because she’s louder about communicating them and advocating for herself. But his physical needs come first. At least in the moment. And she is not happy about this. At all. I know she will eventually understand, but right now her confusion about why in this moment I can’t be with her, kills me. 

And I find myself wondering if this is why the oldest child in a family often has more confidence than their younger siblings. Maybe they just trust the world more because for the first 6 to 12 months of their life, they were the only child in the household. And when they cry it is easier for their parents to be responsive. Whereas, the second child has to compete with an active toddler for attention. Maybe the second child is left crying for a minute to chase the two-year-old out of the kitchen or something. And they just don’t learn early on to trust the world as easily.

I don’t actually know. These are just things that I ponder when I’m up nursing at two in the morning. 

Cyrus at least usually sleeps a solid ten hours a night! So, she gets all the attention when the moon is high. Perhaps, that’s why she has been so slow to improve in her night sleep. 

I’m so tired.

It’ll get better. I will get better at balancing their needs. Eliana will get better at understanding when I need to help her brother, and she will learn that I will meet her needs in just a few minutes. (Someday, she’ll probably be better at reading him than any of us!). She will learn to sleep more than three hours in a row at some point. (Right?) And maybe, I’ll even learn how to put her down for a nap rather than having to hold her through it. 

It will get better. 

I know it will.