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!