Mark turned 8 today. It’s impossible to believe that he’s been a full-fledged kid now for at least a year. I’m not buying it, though, because he still has dimples on his knuckles. Mark’s not only my baby, he is OUR baby. I keep saying his wife is going to hate us all because we really do baby him. We know we’re ruining him but we can’t help it.
Mark was almost “Jake”. Big Mark didn’t want the confusion of a “Jr.” in the house but aside from Luke, there wasn’t another boy’s name I loved as much as “Mark”. I liked others but for various reasons, couldn’t use them. Jake didn’t have a particular significance but I like it. When the doctor told me he delivered more Jakes than Marks, we decided on Mark. It has caused some confusion but nothing disastrous so far. That will likely happen when he’s working and generating utility bills.
When Luke found out I was pregnant again, he was so happy that he would have a brother and a roommate. I was worried because I didn’t know yet that I was having a boy. He got his wish and 2 boys and 2 girls works nicely for our 3 bedroom house.
A few days after he came home, Mark was laying on this “little couch” we had-you know the kind, a mini sofa bed for kids that unfolds. It was a fixture in our living room until it got too ratty. (I think back now and wish I had re-covered it). Anyway, each of the kids had a side of him. Luke was at his head and was just patting him and had his head next to the top of Mark’s and told the girls, “You know he loves me the most because I’m a boy.” They were only 4 and 2 at the time so it made them cry.
Mark still wasn’t crawling by his 1st birthday. He’d do this stealth crawl on his elbows and drag his legs around like a merman out of water. He was my 4th and I was blissfully unconcerned knowing that kids develop at different rates. When the pediatrician was concerned and ordered all kinds of tests, it was like a ton of bricks fell on my head. I really expected to go to his 1 year well-check and hear the doc say, “Kids develop at all different ages”. Part of the reason that I was so clueless was that Mark was so engaged and engaging as an infant and baby. He was so with it even before he could talk. My brother was visiting one day when Mark was about 9 months and said something sarcastic to me-as he often does- and Mark laughed on cue as if he got the joke. Ned looked at me and said, “It’s like he understood what I was saying.” I said, “He does that all the time.”
Mark turned out to be fine physically. The MRI was negative and by the time the home therapy was set up, he was walking.
Mark could read before he knew he could. He’d see words in a book (no pictures) or a sign and make some comment or ask a question based on those words. He did that all the time, too. The other thing he does is repeat things that other people say just before him but he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. I think he does this by visual cues that evoke a common memory or hearing a story that evokes a common memory but sometimes I think he’s just thinking about something else and hears the comment without realizing it and then repeats almost the exact words in a way that sounds like an original thought.
The boy has rythym! He was in the yard one day as a baby and someone drove by with a loud, booming rap beat. He started rocking on all 4’s and bouncing his head to the rythym. His dancing changes to the style of the music very naturally. If he hears a swing tune, for example, picture a version of the Charleston-jazz hands and stepping back and forth with the kicks. If he hears marching music, his posture gets straight, chin up and stiff. If he hears the soundtrack for a musical, he looks like he’s on stage and his moves are more “showy”. He can carry a tune and when he plays an instrument for the first time, it sounds like he can actually play it. Shame on me for not getting him into some kind of music lessons by now, I’ve been lazy.
The boy loves sports-any kind-and he’s good. When we learned about his possible developmental problems, his pediatrician said “You might not even know he has a disability but he’s not going to be the star athlete in school.” Who knows why a doctor would say something like that but he was wrong. He’s not a star because he hasn’t participated in organized sports but he’s a good athlete. The age difference between him and Luke has forced him to become proficient pretty quickly at anything Luke and the older neighborhood boys play. For the most part he keeps up but they’ve been patient and have always included him. I don’t know what he’ll end up playing-hopefully something without a lot of equipment.
Mark is industrious and I’m guilty of not letting him do as much as he’s capable. If you give him a job that has a purpose, he gets to it. I kick myself for not remembering this more often. He likes to the dishes-of all things-which isn’t more work for me at this point because he can reach the sink. He decided last summer that he wanted to make our basement room usable so he suggested “getting the junk out”. Typically, this is a job that I would wait to do when kids weren’t underfoot but we started and he spent a whole morning as foreman on the job. Very determined.
My favorite time of the day with Mark is first thing in the morning. He’s so squishy and warm and cuddly. He’s variably tolerant of the kids cuddling him but I always get to. He almost always wakes up first and it’s so nice to have a little quiet time with him. He’s past the stage where he challenges me as soon as his feet hit the floor.
Mark is dynamic and outgoing. I have a code for when he’s getting out of hand….QSO (Quit showing off), sounds harsh but I don’t want him to be obnoxious. It usually doesn’t work, anyway.
Ever since Mark made his communion, he doesn’t complain about Mass. I was a tad worried but he really does feel privileged to receive. His habit was to whisper “How many more minutes?” right after the processional, then again after the liturgy of the word, sometimes again right before communion. In fact when I asked whether he wanted to be an altar server, he said “yes” because then he could just ask the priest directly “how many more minutes.” He doesn’t ask anymore. Instead, he’s counting how many communions he’s had. Another note on the spiritual side of things, he said he wanted to be a priest. “Really?” I asked, “What makes you say that?” He said, “So I don’t have to get married.” OK then.
Mark is really funny but since he says something to make me laugh nearly every day, I can’t think of anything specific. Sorry. I’ll have to start posting things like that or jotting them down so I can remember them-for all the kids.
Happy Birthday, Mark! I can’t believe you’re 8 but I know it’s going to be a great year! We love you!