Whine: While feeding Sir Eats-A-Lot takes up many hours of my days (and nights), I am no longer the calorie-burning machine that I once was. I am actually going to have to cut down to two desserts a day and no more, I mean it, if I ever want this extra layer of baby blubber to come off. It’s not like I live on an ice floe and need the warmth for crying out loud, it was 98 degrees today.
Cheese: On a positive health note, the children were making me sooooo insane the other day, that as soon as Mr. Dad got home, I left them and went jogging. That should illustrate exactly how crazy I felt because I really hate jogging. But exercise is exercise, even if you are doing it out of spite.
I took Brother Bear to the doctor today for his two-month check up.
Let’s just say he’s doing fine. Ok, more than fine. Alright, I’ll admit it, he’s spectacular.
After the nurse came and measured him, the doctor came in and plotted all Brother Bear’s info onto the growth chart. Or, in regards to his height, more accurately OFF of the growth chart. As in, here’s the 100th percentile over here, and there’s Brother Bear way over there. That kid is tall. (I told you so.)
And so of course I’ve been beaming and bragging all day about my exceptional son. As if my genes have anything to do with that. And as if being tall is better. Because as a [ahem] petite woman, I would beg to differ.
No, I think I am just excited because I finally have a piece of paper that proves what I have known deep down in my heart from the minute the nurse settled all screaming nine and a half pounds of him into my arms just two months ago. My son is extraordinary.
Of course he is. He’s mine.
And I’ve watched him grow and change since before he was even born. Watched him blow tiny bubbles through the grainy screen in the sonogram room. (Now that I know him, he was probably snoring.) Watched him shed that flattened ‘just born’ face and turn into a handsome little guy. Watched his expressions change from those hazy newborn gazes to the sweet, responsive smiles he saves just for his Mommy.
How could I not think he is the most amazingly gifted kid on earth? Even though I read the Expecting books and know that kids all over the world have been growing and smiling at their Mommies for all of time, getting to watch it happen in front of my face makes me think that no other person could possibly understand what a prodigy he is. ‘Look, he can turn his head away to protect himself from the sister onslaught now. How sweet.’
People keep asking me how it feels to have a son now. At first, besides the obvious need for much quicker diaper changes, I thought it really wasn’t that much different because he was small and wrinkly and cute, just like his sisters. Not old enough to reach for the Tonka instead of the Cinderella, I really felt like he was more baby than anything else.
But then something caught me by surprise (although I’d been duly warned). I fell in love with the little booger. (He already has a lot of those, is that weird?). I certainly don’t love him more than his sisters, it’s just different. I love having that tender mother-daughter connection with my girls. So with a son, missing all that handy estrogen, the bond comes from another place.
Already, so much of what makes him him comes directly from the person I love most in this world. His daddy. The red hair. The incredibly long legs. The snoring.
I think there’s something about seeing my beloved hubby in miniature form that just makes any response other than melting adoration inappropriate, if not impossible. And I’m sure someday the charm will wear off, at least a little bit, but it will be replaced by the gratification of getting to put at least one of the very adorable, but trying men in my life in time out.
All of this is to say that even though your kid may or may not be tall, when it all comes down to it, we all think our kids with their long legs or giant heads or amazingly accurate impressions of a scarlet macaw are the best. And they are. Because our love for them is what makes them off the charts.
PS Speaking of off the charts, Aaron’s vocal range in this video is amazing. Too bad he was born a few generations after the Bee Gees.
PPS Yes, I am a horrible, horrible person for recording this. But the cuteness was just too much.
PPPS He’s fine now. I promise.