Today my son is eleven months old. I used to be torn between wanting to keep him a little 7lb bundle, but also wanting him to be a little boy with a beaming personality. I was so excited that I made this little fella, pushed him through my tiny crotch, and now I get to watch him grow.
I’m not torn anymore.
What once was a constantly sleeping blob that smelled like sweet milk and baby powder, is now a high pitched squealing, fast as shit crawling, getting into everything, solid food pooping almost one year old. He doesn’t even smell like milk anymore. He smells like cheezies most of the time. Just last week, the cat ate too fast and puked up unchewed food and I’m not kidding, my kid put a piece in his mouth! This wasn’t the first time he got his hands on cat food, but it was the first time it had already been ate once before. This isn’t a proud parenting moment for me.
I know there is so much more to come. We call my son “Dexter the Destroyer” and it’s a name that I can only assume will live on for many years. Girls like to play nicely with their dolls, and boys feel the need to Hulk smash everything before they even know who The Hulk is. His favourite game is to throw things. Anything. Toys, phones, dirty diapers, and spit out food are a few of his top choices. I don’t want to be that 90 year old in a 20 something body, but please get used to sitting on plastic wrapped furniture when you come visit because nothing is safe in this house.
Dexter is already mobile and climbing stairs every time I turn my head or take a pee, so I have decided to enjoy the last few months before he starts talking. Kids say the darnedest things and I have this gut feeling I will have a lot of ‘splainin’ to do when the time comes. Children don’t lie and they love to express themselves. I was going to a baby group last fall and one woman said she was walking through the mall with her two year old and he said “Mom, why is that woman so ugly?” Right in front of the woman. How do you respond to this?
When I was just a young chicken, my mom was in the bathroom when the phone rang. She told me to quickly answer it and she would be there in a minute. So I did. I also told the person on the other end that she couldn’t come to the phone because “she be poopin’.” I TOLD THAT TO THE PERSON ON THE OTHER END OF THAT PHONE CALL. To my mothers relief, it was my father calling for her. Even more relieving to know it was my dad since she was expecting a call from the bank or something along those lines of importance. To be honest, I don’t even know if it was number two. She could very well have been going number one. I blame this on her. Why would she let such a young unpredictable child answer the phone anyway?! It was really a bad move on her part and I personally feel I did exactly what I was told…
My mom has told this story many times and when she answers the phone to this day, she still gets asked (by more than just my father) if it took so long to pick up because she be poopin’. Who would have thought that I would have a fear of my child learning to talk because of my own doing? Things like this are going to happen to me, and you can bet your sweet ass they are going to happen to you too. Good luck explaining yourself when your cute kid asks you why he is taller than the man (little person) next to him, or asks you what is on that persons face (birthmark). These are two true stories as well.
I see all you pregnant women and new moms out there. I am putting the fear in you! There is no reason I should be the only one thinking these thoughts. I do apologize if I triggered your gag reflex on the cat puke comment though. Everyone tells you to enjoy your little ones now. They aren’t telling you it’s because they are going to find a new way to practically give you a heart attack tomorrow.
