Thursday, May 26, 2011

Happy Birthday Monster!

Today my baby turns two. I just feel so grateful. Grateful at how awesome he is and at how healthy he is.

A little more than two years ago, I was hospitalized so that the doctors could constantly monitor Monster’s heart rate. The little guy had gone and wrapped the umbilical cord around his neck and there was a chance that I would have to have an emergency C-section. Day after day and night after night of uncertainty and fear. Fear that he would have to be born too soon and what that would mean to his health and development or even if he would survive at all. Every day that he stayed in there I just came to admire him more and more. Before he was even born, he was the strongest person I knew and I was learning the lengths I would go to in order to protect him.

After two weeks, though, he untangled himself. I couldn’t believe it. Now he was the smartest person I knew and probably the most mischievous.

The day he was born was not only exciting and magical and miraculous but a huge relief as well. Finally I wasn’t the only person responsible for his well being!

I’m not going to say that the past two years have been easy but they have definitely been worth it.

Happy birthday to my gorgeous, genius, naughty and wonderful son! You are definitely keeping me on my toes!


Monday, May 9, 2011

Epic Parenting Fail

I’m raising a willful child. My mother probably isn’t surprised to hear that, as she too raised a willful child. I thought it was just my sign but Monster (aptly nicknamed it seems now) isn’t a Taurus at all, but rather a Gemini. Maybe the twins are actually his split personality as one second he is snuggling me and holding my hand, and the next he is kicking at me because he doesn’t want to change out of his pajamas. Or maybe this sporadic willfulness is actually due to his sheer brilliance.

Friday evening Monster and I are enjoying the beautiful weather out on the deck. I’m sitting in a chair with my feet propped up and he’s having fun going in and out of the back door. I thought to myself, I better grab my keys in case he figures out how to use that lock. I get up, turn the handle and, nothing. The door won’t open. Of course he locked me out. Why wouldn’t he? He’s almost two and can figure out how to do anything by watching me do it once. He can’t, however, figure out how to unlock the door even with my prompting and he’s getting more and more upset by the second.

I have my phone but who am I going to call? I peer around the deck fence to see if my neighbor is outside on his deck. Negative, but his window is open, so I start yelling. I hear his dog barking but no sign of any creature with opposable thumbs.

I looked around to see if I could jump down to the ground. The deck is one story up and there are no stairs (obviously, otherwise I would’ve used them). I wanted to avoid breaking any bone(s) so I held off on that idea. Finally, I just started yelling, “Help!” It was beautiful out, someone had to be outside and within earshot.

About a minute later, a man’s face appeared around his fence, a few houses down. “Are you ok?”

I began to laugh. “Um, yeah, I’m kinda locked out of my house. Can you come let me in?” After a brief discussion on exactly which townhouse is mine, I see him coming through my unlocked front door (thankfully my forgetfulness and general idiocy saved me). He took a second to try to calm down Monster who, by this time, is in a full-fledged crying and screaming fit. And then he let me in. We introduced ourselves, shook hands, laughed a bit and then he was on his way.

The kicker of it is, Monster wasn’t crying and screaming because he was scared that he was separated from Mommy. He was pissed because he wanted to come outside and I “wouldn’t” open the door for him.

We went back out on the deck – yes, I brought my keys. This time, however, Monster wanted to be the one “locked out.” He kept walking me over to the door, insisting I go inside and shut it leaving him out there knocking. Yes, quite a fun game he invented. Can’t wait to play it again.