In the progression of relationships, people want the best for you. By this I specifically mean, well meaning family members start asking when you will marry your significant other the minute they meet them. Or in some cases before they’ve met them…or are even in the picture…
Some family members will even go tour wedding venues hours before an impending proposal, because they need to be prepared (ahem, Mom).
One would think they are safe from this type of intrusive questioning once they are safely married. Nope. It now turns into the baby question. Everyone now wants to know when you’re having sex. Because you better get to making some babies. And this is apparently the only time in life it’s totes ok to inquire whether someone has been having all the sex all the time.
If you’re deemed old lady balls like me, and get married at 34 you even get stern lectures on the quality of your eggs by your lady doc…before said husband is even remotely in the picture. Craziness.
So after the wedding, the baby questions, and all the sex, we ended up with diva baby Viv.
Parenthood is a wild ride, yo. I mean she is a diva. Legit diva. She’s going to rule the world one day. I just haven’t figured out if she’s going to be a pop princess or CEO. Maybe both?!?
So Miss Diva entered our lives. Holy sh*t. Other parents were telling us sweet stories of their amazing, sleep-through-the-night-perfect-firstborn children. Dan and I were the bleary-eyed, and sleep deprived parents to the most strong willed child you’d ever met. She also had the loudest set of pipes on the planet. Her shriek was like no other. I’m pretty sure it’s one octave below Mariah Carey level.
I told you CEO and pop-star all wrapped into one 99th percentile body.
Everyone says the first child is the easy baby.
This was a frightening statement to us as parents…
For sure they were mistaken. Diva child cannot be my easy one.
Frightening or not we eventually tiptoed back into the sex. Okay, let’s be real. There was a wedding weekend in Savannah sans the diva child. I was surrounded by oysters and rosè. Need I really say more?
Exactly 40 weeks later, E showed up. I mean exactly. This probably should’ve been my clue that maybe the other parents may have been on to something.
And those old lady eggs yo, can we give them a nice round of applause for showing the lady doc whose boss? They did turn into some pretty ok babes.
For the majority of E’s first year, he was a pretty chill dude. I mean, he still is. He’s super happy all the time, and the world’s biggest flirt.
This dude has a thing for the ladies. I mean a real thing. He scans the room for the most attractive female he can find, and will make a beeline for her. His blond hair, blue eyed charm then turns to 1000%, and he goes in for the kill. Forget mama or anyone else. He now wants to snuggle the new hottie he met. This little man takes charm to a whole new level.
So yeah. He’s chill.
But he’s a tornado. A tornado with a fearless streak.
With Viv, we had childproofed our townhouse. So we figured we knew what we were doing at our new house.
I guess, I should’ve had an inkling that some children were different. I mean, my sister came to visit with my nephew a few years ago and was horrified at the death trap I called a townhouse. She quickly childproofed it for her wild child, and then we moved things back to Viv-proof after they left. I just thought he was a little on the extreme end.
Jokes on me.
Little man decided to crawl at 5 months, walk at 8 months, and hurdle himself off furniture at lightning speed somewhere shortly after.
And when I say hurdle, I mean hurdle. Dude, likes to jump across my bed like a Flying Monkey on his way to snatch Dorothy. He’s on a mission and no one’s stopping him.
My baby proofing efforts are almost comical. He’s broken a couple of the drawer stops. You know those ridiculous ones you have to squeeze your fingers in to press down and release, or the ones that require and industrial size magnet to release? Not because they don’t work, but because he’s strong enough to pull and actually break the connection. Fun times.
I tried to rig a few drawers with yard sticks instead. Yeah, he’s strong enough to just pull all the drawers open with the yard stick in place.
Childproof caps…that’s comical. Clearly, ibuprofen is best when poured all over the hallway floor.
Marker tops!!!! If sister can get them off, there’s no stopping him.
Stairs…yeah stairs. We have multiple sets in our house. So we showed him how to crawl up and down backwards. That is no longer acceptable, and he needs to actually walk up them like the rest of the family. This would be amazing except on the way down he likes to skip a step.
Also, thank goodness for performance fabric. It may save the tiny remains of my sanity.
I now also understand why they created leashes for children. I see you mama! You with your own daredevil stair skipping maniac, you are a genius. I want to kiss you.
Also, I may own three now. Mama’s gotta be prepared,yo.
Viv is a saint compared to him.
Damn you all for being right!
In other news, I will now be using future weddings to ask these same questions of future brides and grooms. Why? Well, I need to know if they plan to have all the babies. If there are no babes in their future, I will be giving them cold, hard cash. Those chipper and well rested wannabe parents? Yeah, they’re getting a gift certificate to the finest baby proofer around. And a leash.
They’ll thank me later.