This post was inspired by the Bad Mommy Moments blog by Cynthia Kane. My sister introduced me to her friend Cynthia's blog and eveytime I read it, I laugh out loud. It's good to hear about other people's experience with their children and to know that I am not the only one with sweet potatos on their jeans and who smells like baby puke all day long. Here is a summary of my morning with my awesome little guy.....
I wake up to the peaceful sound of the baby monitor screaming in my ear. It is my son, not so subtly telling me to get my butt in his room and pick him up. So I quickly brush my teeth and go in to get him. Immediately, I forget how mad I am that I have to wake up at 6:45 am because there he is standing in his crib waiting for me. When I enter the room, he smiles BIG. He does not smile quite like that for anyone but me. “Good morning my love”, I say as he reaches his hands up for me. I take him downstairs to change his diaper and put on whatever cute outfit I can find. I am into putting him in tee shirts and jeans these days because he looks like such a little boy in them. If he is lucky, he will have matching socks, but it is certainly not a guarantee. The usual ritual of fighting to get his diaper on without getting his poop all over me begins. He rolls over and squirms with all of his might, which makes the task nearly impossible. He is very strong I might add. I beg and plead and eventually we get his new diaper and clean clothes on. Now, it is time for breakfast so I set him up on the floor with some toys to play with and I head to the kitchen to whip something up. Now, I live in a townhouse with an open floor plan so the kitchen and the living area are basically one big space. This is important for you to know so that you can truly appreciate what happens next. As I make my way to the kitchen, I hear a very fast-paced crawl accompanied by a cry that sounds like some sort of dying animal. I look down and say, “Duncan, mommy is right here, I’m just fixing your breakfast.” but I think to myself, "you have got to be kidding me. I am right in front of you. Can you not see me right here in front of your face? I am right here, just like I have been every single day of your life." He does not skip a beat and is now pulling on the leg of my pajama pants until they are half way down my leg. I pull them up with one hand and pick Duncan up with the other. I reassure him that I am not going anywhere and I again set him up on the floor (right next to me) and encourage him to play with his favorite refrigerator magnets. He plays for about two seconds as I head to the sink. There it is again. The fast-paced crawl and dying animal cry. I am making his bottle as he tries to climb up my leg again. After about a minute of this, he stops crying and climbing up my leg. Relief at last! I hear something I do not often hear outside of naptime. Quiet. All you mothers know that this is often not a good sign so I look down to see that my son has his hands in the dog’s bowl of water and is attempting to flip it over. Just as I hear myself say “No, Duncan. That’s not for you”, there goes the water all over the floor and he is now sitting in a pool of it. I spend the next ten minutes cleaning up the water off the floor and changing his clothing, which as I said before is nearly impossible. I sit him in his high chair and lock him in tight because that is a whole other story that I will get to another day. I finish making his bottle and get his baby food. Here is where the real fun begins! I put on a bib because it is an absolute must with this kid! I start to feed him his oatmeal mixed with raisins and applesauce and I am pleased to see that he is eating like a big boy. This of course is short-lived and he begins to do this thing where he closes his eyes and turns his head as if I can’t see him now that he has his eyes closed. I try everything I can think of; the airplane, the open up and say awww, which usually involves me singing a song or demonstrating, and even his favorite, the train (chugga chugga chugga chugga choo choo). Nothing works. He just closes his eyes and turns his head so I know what he is getting at and I give in and hand him his bottle. Now I rush to the kitchen to fix my bowl of cereal. I scarf it down in about 2 minutes because I know my time is limited. I quickly check my email, Etsy shop, and Facebook, if there is time. Then he lets me know it is time to get him out of his high chair by throwing his bottle to the ground. I pick him up and clean off his face. I give him a big smooch and he laughs at me. I am the funniest person in the world to him and all I have to do is give him repetitive kisses on his big chubby cheeks. We read “The Ten Little Ladybugs” together and he tries to pull all the ladybugs off the book all the while getting mad when he cannot pull them off. I smile as he cuddles up in my lap and helps me turn the pages. I know this will only last another moment or two before he climbs up my chest and tries to claw at the telephone and computer. He only wants what he cannot have of course. I cherish the moment for as long as it lasts and then start counting down the minutes until naptime.
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