Standing the Cuteness
I remember, when I was young and childless, I would often wonder at parents' seemingly unending excitement with their children. Any little thing the child would do was cause for a parade down Main Street. She smiled? Call Grandma! He slept for 4 hours? Tell them at the staff meeting! Pictures brandished at every opportunity - "Look! See how much older he looks in this picture than that one, and it's only one week!" And I would sit there, smiling, nodding saying things like, "Oh my," or "That's incredible," and "Wow, that's a lot of poop." While I shared the parents' excitement more as I was getting closer to parenthood myself, I always thought to myself, there's no way I'll be like that!
Fast forward two years and I've become exactly this person. Dozens of the seemingly same picture on Facebook? Check. Blogs full of diarrhea? Absolutely. Watch people literally clench their teeth to stifle yawns while droning on and on about my little? Unfortunately, yes. When someone asks about my health, I could shrug and say, "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, but I'm fine." When someone asks about Oliver, well, too bad for you. That coffee will get cold, your meeting is going to start late, and I'll pretend not to notice you inching your feet out of the door. You can take a deep breath and say "Weeeelllll," as much as you want, but, darlin', you've asked a question and I'm going to answer it in full - and goshdarnit, maybe even make you want to meet or steal my child. You know you can't stand the cuteness.
To be honest with you, one of the reasons I started this blog was to keep my constant chattering to a minimum with my friends and at work. Come to find out, I'm just repeating the same stories that I've blogged to anyone and everyone that will listen. It's a shame, because I really think I was an interesting person pre-Oliver. I watched the news, I paid attention to people's lives, I had something to contribute to conversations. Now, however, I don't think there's any more room in this teeny T-Rex brain to save anything other than my son's development antics.
Which lately have been (so glad you asked):
Which is why I apologize whole-heartedly to all those parents whom I may have offended. I just didn't know how mind-reeling this whole parent thing would be. Please forgive my self-righteous ignorance.
To all the friends, co-workers and aquaintances (even people at the grocery store that I'll never see again), I apologize...in advance. Though I will try to salt my exuberance with reality by reminding you how many children he's bitten today (4 at last count), or explain why my outfit doesn't match (because he touched me with applesauce hand at breakfast), I won't be able to stop talking. Watching a person with whom I'm so close actually LEARN things DAILY and GROW right in front of my eyes is too spectacular a gift to keep to myself. He's hilarious and adorable. Winning combination.
Yuv oo.
Fast forward two years and I've become exactly this person. Dozens of the seemingly same picture on Facebook? Check. Blogs full of diarrhea? Absolutely. Watch people literally clench their teeth to stifle yawns while droning on and on about my little? Unfortunately, yes. When someone asks about my health, I could shrug and say, "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, but I'm fine." When someone asks about Oliver, well, too bad for you. That coffee will get cold, your meeting is going to start late, and I'll pretend not to notice you inching your feet out of the door. You can take a deep breath and say "Weeeelllll," as much as you want, but, darlin', you've asked a question and I'm going to answer it in full - and goshdarnit, maybe even make you want to meet or steal my child. You know you can't stand the cuteness.
To be honest with you, one of the reasons I started this blog was to keep my constant chattering to a minimum with my friends and at work. Come to find out, I'm just repeating the same stories that I've blogged to anyone and everyone that will listen. It's a shame, because I really think I was an interesting person pre-Oliver. I watched the news, I paid attention to people's lives, I had something to contribute to conversations. Now, however, I don't think there's any more room in this teeny T-Rex brain to save anything other than my son's development antics.
Which lately have been (so glad you asked):
- Making everyone in the house stand up in order to march around the coffee table singing "The Wheels on the Bus" or "The Ants Go Marching"
- Taking your hand, patting the place on the floor he wants you to sit and handing you a puzzle that he'll "help" you complete
- Saying "Wow!" whenever trucks and buses drive past
- Putting his hands behind his head and shaking his hips when we give him food he likes
- Rushing to get where I've asked him to go or do what I've asked him to do when I start counting "One...."
- Playing night-night by gently pushing someone over to fetal position, covering their head up with a blanket, handing them Elmo, patting their back and saying "Night-night"
- Pointing to his window after hearing that Jesus was in the sky and saying "Yuv oo."
Which is why I apologize whole-heartedly to all those parents whom I may have offended. I just didn't know how mind-reeling this whole parent thing would be. Please forgive my self-righteous ignorance.
To all the friends, co-workers and aquaintances (even people at the grocery store that I'll never see again), I apologize...in advance. Though I will try to salt my exuberance with reality by reminding you how many children he's bitten today (4 at last count), or explain why my outfit doesn't match (because he touched me with applesauce hand at breakfast), I won't be able to stop talking. Watching a person with whom I'm so close actually LEARN things DAILY and GROW right in front of my eyes is too spectacular a gift to keep to myself. He's hilarious and adorable. Winning combination.
Yuv oo.
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