LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 38

I was thirty years old when Joey was born. From the first, I was enthralled with him. Everything he did was like a small miracle. Because of the ten years between him and Buddy, it was like having a first baby all over again.

I had been taking care of babies all my life. When Jimmy was born I was five years old and one of my earliest memories is laying on the bed with him, shaking the bed, trying to get him to go to sleep. When Sue was born two years later, I learned to change diapers. By the time Margaret came along, when I was 10, I was doing everything for her except nursing her. Then came Frankie, Darvin and Dodie. With Dodie, I even fed her...she was a bottle baby. In fact, Mom had some problems and had to stay in the hospital longer Dodie. Dad brought Dodie home and handed her to me and said here she is...take care of her. From that minute on, Dodie was mine. When I was home, I did everything for her...feeding, bathing, diapers, getting her to sleep, etc. When school stated for my junior year, I was as upset over leaving her as she was over me leaving.

So, when I had Tammy and then Buddy, I expected them to do certain things at certain tim es. I was proud when Tammy started walking at eight months. I was frustrated when Buddy didn't walk until he was thirteen months. But with Joey,, everything he did felt like a minor miracle...when he rolled over, when he sat up, when he crawled...and he did not do anything especially early...he was also thirteen months old when he started walking.

He cried for the first six months of his life. He cried after a bottle. He cried when I'd put him to bed. He cried if he was left in a room alone. I cried at the doctor's office...and the doctor laughed at me. He said I needed to put Joey in bed and walk away...let him cry. I tried that...three nights in a row...I walked the floor while he cried for two solid hours before I gave in and went in and got him. Then I walked the floor with him until he quit crying...and took him to bed with me so we could both get a few hours sleep.

I was one happy camper when, at six months, his colic went away. He no longer cried after eating...but still screamed bloody murder when I'd put him in his bed. Yet, I tried every night..but eventually would give up and take him to bed with me. When he got old enough to climb out of his crib...he would just get out and get in bed with me.

I hated leaving him to go to work, but had no choice. At least the job I had allowed me to make my own hours around Joey's schedule! After the colic stopped, except for the bedtime problems, Joey was an ideal child. He was one of those children who gets punished once...and doesn't do that particular thing again. If I slapped his hand for playing with the TV...he never did itta again.
And he adored his big sister and brother. I had to yell at Tammy more than once to stop carrying him around and let him walk. Buddy loved him too...but in small doses.

One afternoon when Joey was about nine months old, I had finally got him to sleep and put him in his crib in his room upstairs. I was in the kitchen when I heard this ..thump...thump....thump...on the stairs. Running to check...I found Joey making his way down the stairs...on his bottom...one stair at a time. I didn't even know he could climb out of his crib. From then on, he did not want to be carried upstairs...he wanted to crawl up them by himself. Yet again, after the first time I yelled at him over it...he never attempted to go up or down unless one of us...me, Tammy or Buddy...were with him.