Daniel was sitting on my lap, and suddenly started pulling down my shirt. I said to him “that’s kind of weird Daniel. What are you doing?” In a whiny voice he responded “I want milk!”
Awkward!
Archive for Mommy Moments
25; going on 45?
I hate it when you’re purchasing something and the cashier studies your selections, as though it’s any of his/her concern what you’re buying. Especially when what you are buying is personal.
Such was the case at Barnes & Noble the other night. I miss Borders, but I don’t live near one anymore.
I suppose the male cashier at B&N had a reason to look at my purchaes, then give me funny looks. I am only 25, and probably don’t look much older than 22 or 23. I don’t say that with bragging rights, it’s been kind of a curse. But I went to Barnes & Noble, headed straight for the magazine section, which is my favorite section at any store. I “fake” grocery shopping just so I can pick up a few new magazines. I grabbed the new Pregnancy and Newborn magazine, even though I’m not pregnant, and I don’t have a newborn, somehow I feel like having as much information as possible will get me pregnant sooner. It really won’t. Then I looked through the other family magazines, and grabbed Conceive Magazine, and Fertility Today, headed to the Fiction and Literature section, spent some time choosing two Michael Crichton books, then went to pay.
Seriously what has come over me? I have a 15 month old son, and I had a miscarriage. I don’t have infertility issues, I don’t need IVF, I’m 25 and have probably another 15 years left of possible baby making. What I really need here is a whole lot of patience. I’m sure if I had actually thought about why the cashier was giving me funny looks, I could have put back 80% of what I was buying and saved about $30.
I read those magazines from front to back, and I didn’t learn anything new.
Mumma’s boy no more?
Daniel has been in a “mama’s boy” stage for a few months, which is fine with me, and really very cute for the most part. But every so often, I’d love some room to breathe. On those extra clingy days, I breathe a huge sigh of relief when I hear Dan walk through the garage door, and I give Daniel to him, then try to sneak upstairs without Daniel noticing. It usually doesn’t take Daniel long to figure out where I am, and within 5 minutes of disappearing, I can hear him crawling up the stairs, exaggerating each movement by pounding on the next step as he progresses. “Mumma, mumma…MUM!” he’ll be calling out, (we aren’t British, and we’ve never lived in England, but for some reason mum’s the word around here) until he reaches the second story, and stops there, to stare into the office where I am at my computer, then I look back and his face lights up with a huge smile, and suddenly he sprint crawls full force to me, as though he hasn’t seen me in days.
This week Dan has had a major deadline at work, so he’s been working longer hours (leaving early, coming home late), and Daniel seemed to notice his absence. Dan was able to leave work at a reasonable hour, so we took Daniel to my parents house, and then went on a dinner date, just the two of us. When we got back Daniel was happily playing with the letter and number magnets my parents keep on the dishwasher. My 2 year old nephew, Joshua, was sitting there playing with him. We stood there observing the 2 kids, Joshua who likes to arrange the symbols in color coordinated groups, and Daniel, who wants nothing more then the magnets to be off the dishwasher…and as fast as possible. (This is very upsetting to Joshua). Daniel didn’t notice we were there until Dan cheered him on with a loud “Yeah!” Without looking up, Daniel scooted over to the sound of Dans voice, his legs in a “V” shape on the ground in front of him, never changed positions, never lifted his legs or butt off the ground, but somehow in seconds he managed to scoot his way to Dan. Once at his feet he bowed down, and we stood there, fully prepared for him to start kissing Dan’s feet. Dan picked Daniel up, and immediately Daniel clung to him, still not noticing me.
I tried to kiss his face, to let him know I was there, but as soon as my face met his, he pushed it away. Then laughed at me. Not a giggle. He literally said “haha!” This quickly turned into a game, of both of my parents and my older sister trying to kiss his face, and each time, he put up a hand, pushed the face away, and hollered “haha!”
It looks like I’ll be getting more breathing room in the near future, as he is starting to cling to his dad.
…And the greatest of these is Love
When I was about 8 years old I attended a baby shower with my mom. As the gifts were opened, all the women oohed and aahed over the tiny baby boy clothes that were coming out of each of bag and box, and making comments about baby things I had never seen before, “oh that product saved my life! You’ll always use it.” One particular gift never left my mind. It was an illustrated childrens book, that seemed to be geared more towards moms. Each mom would read through the few pages, wipe a few tears from her eyes, say how sweet and sad the book was, then pass the book to the next mom.
When the book came to me, Love You Forever, written by Robert Munsch, I studied the cover; a brown haired, brown eyed chubby cheek boy, about 2 years old, is sitting on the floor of a bathroom, with the toilet paper unraveled all around, a tube of toothpaste emptied out, and all his mothers costmetics on the floor.
I read the book from cover to cover. The book started out with this:
A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she held him, she sang:
I’ll love you forever,I’ll like you for always,As long as I’m livingmy baby you’ll be.
I’ll love you forever,I’ll like you for always,As long as I’m livingmy baby you’ll be.
This continued on, even as the baby boy became a rowdy teenager, the mother would sneak into his room and rock him each night, and sing to him her same song.
Then the boy gets older, becomes a man, and has a home of his own:
Well, that mother, she got older. She got older and older and older. One day she called up her son and said, “You’d better come see me because I’m very old and sick.” So her son came to see her. When he came in the door she tried to sing the song.
She sang:
I’ll love you forever,I’ll like you for always…
But she couldn’t finish because she was too old and sick. The son went to his mother. He picked her up and rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And he sang this song:
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, As long as I’m living my Mommy you’ll be.
I’ll love you forever,I’ll like you for always…
But she couldn’t finish because she was too old and sick. The son went to his mother. He picked her up and rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And he sang this song:
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, As long as I’m living my Mommy you’ll be.
…
When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs. Then he went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. He picked her up in his arms and very slowly rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while he rocked her he sang:
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.
After reading through this book, at eight years of age, I didn’t understand the reaction all the other women were having towards it. I stared blankly at Cindy, the host of the baby shower, who told me “It’s just a really sweet book.” I didn’t get it, and in fact, I felt down right stupid. (Even at a young age I was determined to come across as intelligent to everyone I encountered).
A few years later I saw the book in a book store, picked it up, and read through it. I studied the illustrations. I still didn’t get it. What am I missing? Even more years later I again read the book, trying to find the missing link, hoping that I would finally understand it, could put this all behind me, and resolve that I am not an idiot, and I do in fact understand this simple book titled Love you Forever. But no, I didn’t understand.
I now have my own brown haired, chubby cheek, blue eyed 13 month old son, Daniel. My bathroom often looks just like the one illustrated on the cover of Love you Forever. My son is always “re-organizing” my cosmetics and toiletries (because really, the toothpaste is better off kept in the shower, and my concealer should go in the trash). If I leave a bathroom door open for more than 2 seconds, Daniel will see it, and he will immediately enter the bathroom and unravel the toilet paper sheet by sheet. (My bathroom is in this very state right now; in case you don’t believe me, photos will be following!)
I’ve now read that book again (and again, and again). And each time, I’ve wiped a few tears from my eyes, and put the book down with a smile. Now, I finally understand.
If you can handle a few tears right now, please visit http://robertmunsch.com/books.cfm?bookid=40 to find out how this book came about.
You can purchase Love you Forever from www.amazon.com
