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poop beetle: Haaris' Birthday
11.2002
Haaris is turning two on Saturday. Although we celebrated his birthday over Thanksgiving. All the aunts and uncles and cousins were around, so it seemed to make sense. Poor kid, is going to have a lifetime of getting screwed out of a real birthday. Candles on pumpkin pie and the combo birthday/christmas gifts.
I havn't written so much about Haaris, who we're calling Harry for the present- but will have choices, later in life. A better span of choices than his brother Awais. Who, hopefully will gain strength a la "A Boy Named Sue" from his unusual and difficult to pronounce name. That's another story.
And see, there I go back to Awais as I've committed myself to talking about Harry. Why that seems to happen so much, the constant comparison of one son to another is- first of all normal, I believe- also since I'm aware of it will only be a personal source of wonder and awe and will not become damaging or restrictive to either child. . . . more than that is another story.
So about Haaris. First of all, his name is also very hard to pronounce- the correct Arabic pronounciation requires some glotteal arching and tongue rolling that I can't do. I can not correctly pronounce my own son's name. How's that for confessional?
The name is very old and may predate the Koran. It means something like "field plower"- although when asked I will say it means "cultivator". I have to admit, I've been relieved to notice that so far, none of the core group of known 9/11 terrorists have had either one of my son's names. There were some names, I'd considered that have turned up on C-span. Again, another story.
Going pure Harry. What I've got to say is CUTE. Cutie, cutie, cute, cute. Chubby, gerber baby, buddha belly, dolly boy.
And yet very complex.
In the womb he was dolphin King (to his brother's Jackie Chan). Lazy, sweet little flips, almost always at night.
There was a time we were tempted to box him in as the "laid back" one. His brother- frenetic, high energy, and Harry, the polar opposite.
Not so.
There was a time, I wanted to make him the "old soul"- which I think is still a little true. But the idea smacks of second kid syndrome. I think it comes from more lag time- between discovering or developing a new skill and when the parent notices it.
First kids have mom/dad 24/7 in their faces. Second kids get a little more space. Many advantages to that. Better fine motor skills, because everything is not done for them. Room to scope & strategize for maximum impact.
Harry likes blue. He's learning other colors, but prefers either the color, or just the word. He will say "Bluuuuuu! (red), Bluuuu! (green".
He also likes shoes (shuuuuues!). He scowels, and grins, and frowns and grins again. Harry won't be played, but he might play you. At half his size, Harry can bring down his brother with one, well timed leap.
Sometimes he breaks into a dance that brings to mind the song "Hello, my baby, hello my dolly, hello my ragtime gal . . . "
Haaris shares his birthday with Mark Twain and Winston Churchhill. Also an old neighbor, crazy Sandy- who at the age of 40 has never had a job or lived apart from her mother.
At the age of two, Harry deserves a novel. He likes to tickle little girl's tummies. He is so, so his own person. I'd thought that about his brother and worried that Harry would struggle in his shadow.
Not going to be a problem.
This time next year, he (hopefully) will be potty trained. He'll have even more to say and the capacity to say it. It goes so freaking fast. Exciting/heartbreaking/Spooky/nuts.
And all really, very good. More to say . . .
