Mommies Paradise

Is there reason to worry when That Baby calls the babysitter Pumpkin? I don’t call her Pumpkin. But he calls her Pumpkin.

I am simply referred to as Mom. No Mama, or Mommy or anything cute and warm sounding. Just a very specific Mom. And it usually goes like this:

That Baby: Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom.
Me: Yes baby?
That Baby: Mom.
Me: Yes honey?
That Baby: Hi Mom.
Me: Hi baby?
That Baby: Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom.

Happy Birthday! It is That Baby’s birthday. He is two. Two. Two Years Old. We have been doing this for two years.

I find myself looking back on those first three months of motherhood when I couldn’t believe that I even had a baby. I couldn’t believe that I was still the same size a month after giving birth, as I was the day after giving birth (how ridiculous of me). I wondered when my breasts would stop dripping. I wondered how far down my torso they would hang after they dried up. I wondered if That Baby would ever let me eat. Or bathe for that matter.

For at least a month I spent most of my time wondering when That Baby’s real mother was going to come and get him. I was sure that I was no where NEAR qualified for this whole child rearing thing. And That Baby was just as irritated with me as I was with me. He was like a little dictator (most babies are)! It was insane!

That Baby: Feed Me!
Me: Okay - give me a sec to mix the formula and heat it up nice…
That Baby: FEED ME!
Me: Yeah, I am working on that… can we bounce a little…?… oh, don’t cry…
That Baby: FEEEEED MEEEE! Change me.
Me: I’ll change you while the bottle warms.
That Baby: CHANGE ME so I can pee on you! Why aren’t you FEEDING ME?? Feed me while you change me!
Me: Uhh…
That Baby: Why is this diaper still on me? WHERE. IS. MY. BOTTLE? Hold ME!
Me: ah mm uhhh…
That Baby: Why am I naked and exposed to the elements??? So what if you are changing my diaper? — I will pee on you! Hey! I am n ot eating! Why don’t I see a bottle coming at me??? Burp me. I’ve got gas.
- and so it went.

There was always some bodily excretion coming out of him - with force and going for distance. Very rarely did any of those nighttime feedings end without me changing clothes. I have had things shot at me that I never imagined could be “shot” out of a body. And in about 14 years he will probably shoot some new/old bodily excretion in my direction, after we find him passed out on the porch where his “friends” have poured him after a night of youthful debauchery.

Good times. Good times.

Eventually, things evened out. We got into a rhythm, of sorts. Then it all changed. And I changed the rhythm. And he changed again. And I changed again. And again. And so on. And it continues today.

But today, he is Two Years Old. And he equates this with blowing out candles. And that is good. His big eyes and beautiful mind and sense of humor and total boyishness (he says grrrr!) delight me.

Happy Birthday Baby!

I drove through the parking lot slowly in order to check out the line through the window of the post office before I parked. Considering that this would possibly be the third wasted trip to the post office in three days, I was not interested in hauling That Baby out of the car into this place only to stand in a horrendous line with a sweaty, squriming toddler, for who knows how long. As I noted that the line was weaving out the door the words “Ahh fuck” slid over my tongue, passed my teeth and flew out my lips straight to the ears of That Baby. Who responded with a rousing rendition of “AH PUCK! AH PUCK! AH PUCK! AH PUCK!….

As I banged my head on my steering wheel for being a negligent mother I made a mental note to a) stop banging my head on the steering wheel and b) never say that again in front of That Baby.

About a week later I was cleaning up around the house and collecting dishes and odd such things to be put away. When I got in the bathroom I dropped a glass on the tile and shards flew everywhere. Immediately I yelled “Ah fuck… (then whispered) aaahhh no - shit …” that last part was said because That Baby stood in the hallway of the bathroom saying “Ah puck!”

Now, I know that this is totally my fault. I have a pentiant for dropping the f-bomb. I used the word the entire time I was pregnant (you would too). I use it when telling a story to add some dimension to the tale. I use it, but don’t get me wrong. I am not a complete sailor in the language world. I use it as more of an exclamation. I am working very hard on eliminating the slips.

However, the damage has been done. A while ago someone dropped a glass on TV and That Baby said “Ah pfuck.”

On the bright side, he said it in context and almost has the p to f thing under control. He is collecting quite a vocabulary and is learning new words every day. However, he had been trying to say “light” for ten months but only said “baf”(?) and couldn’t figure out what to call me! His word for water is mama. For about a week he called Mr. Daddy Guy. As in “Hi Guy!”

Hmph!

This may seem off the track but trust me, it relates.

I am not ashamed to say it - I love Adult Swim on the Cartoon Network. I have always loved cartoons and as I became an adult I discovered cartoons for big people. I mostly love Adult Swim because I really dig anime. I always have.

After That Baby was born, I would get up throughout the night for feedings and he and I would curl up on the couch in the dark and I would watch Adult Swim. I met great anime like Cowboy Bebop and Big O. I even started to follow Inuyasha. I looked forward to the nights. I looked forward to seeing those gawky looking dudes with crazy ass hair and those long lanky ladies with HUGE boobs! LOVE IT!

However! Somewhere along the line Cartoon Network decided that this stuff was just not cutting it. As if Space Ghost Coast to Coast wasn’t weird enough. So, they changed the line up - MY night-time feeding line up. They changed it with… with… with… CRAP! Crap like Aqua Teen Hunger Force! Some of you know what I am talking about. For those of you who don’t, let me explain. Aqua Teen Hunger Force is a “show” about a crime fighting milkshake, bag of french fries and meatball. Yes. A meatball. Named Meatwad.

The reason I bring this up is that during the weeks leading up to Christmas, Season 1 of Aqua Teen Hunger Force became available on DVD.

Who watches this stuff enough to warrant a DVD collection????

A talking MEATBALL… named Meatwad! Who fights crime in New Jersey??

Good lord.