Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Mom Fouls

You know, like a party foul, but played out by a Mom? Yeah – that was so me this weekend…

Left to our own devices for several days, the kiddo and I enjoyed life as usual, delighting in the fall breeze, shaking pasta boxes at the grocery store, attending fall kid-friendly events and snuggling well into the evenings, his limbs loose and pudgy, falling around me, leaving me to feel like a pile of mush from all the love I felt at the end of the day. There were snacks to be had, naps to be taken, laughs to be shared, wrestling matches to win, peek-a-boo sessions, dance parties, mailbox visits to delight in, car and horse riding, and so much more. Then – there were the incidents:

1) Smackdown: dashing across the kitchen to grab more of Gerber’s best in response to the “more” signs (his sign language gets more insistent the more anxious he is, much like we adults choose to talk louder when someone isn’t listening), I prepared to toss his “lovey” aside to make room to let the applesauce mixing commence. As I went to snag the ear of “Pickles” the blue elephant, I catch a flicker of black movement out of the corner of my eye and instantly perk up with the “oh an insect!” feeling, then begin giving myself a pep talk that included why I needed to save my child’s lovey from this hairy beast. After all, we had already labeled this silky, filthy elephant as something that may constitute a trip back into the house while it was on fire, because, after all, how else would he fall asleep?

As the eight-legged creature got creative and quicker, so too did Mommy’s reflexes and need to panic, grabbing for the first viable squishing object in site. Of course, this happens to be my current favorite pair of shoes, perfectly wedged, delightfully gray and sparkly to match all items, comfortable, and unique. But – it had to do. After minutes of hoisting my arm further back than it went even in my athletic days and relishing in the vibrant “thud” of each whack across Pickles head, I felt I was beginning to earn my gold star for killing the creature that was attacking my child’s object of affection. Very heroic, don’t you think?

Then, I heard it. Next, I saw it. Fear – pure, unadulterated, “what in the hell do you think you’re doing to my lovey?” look of disbelief lining my 13-month old’s face, coupled with a cry that can only be interpreted as “I’m scarred for life by witnessing the act you are doing right now.” Sigh.

I’ve already emptied my cute Pottery Barn vase that housed pumpkins and instead labeled it “Lawson’s Therapy.” The first five dollars in it is marked with “Mom lost her mind and tried to kill my lovey.” Aye yiy yay.

2) Rodeo Retriever: calm, cool and collected, the little man and I blabbered away on our way to the park, exchanging glances, pointing at trees, making friends with the neighborhood dogs and calling everything a “car.” Feeling refreshed from a six-block jaunt, I pulled the stroller near the edge of the park and tied Ellie to it to respect the other parents on site who may not be comfortable with a large dog. Giving her the command to lay down and stay, Ellie offered an understanding glance and relented as I walked away to place L in the swing. Moments later, she started to get that Golden look in her eye that says: “Damnit – I’ve been away from my person for two minutes two long. I’m starting to freak out here. Must.do.something.” So – she did. And, since Chicco’s stroller weighs only 13 pounds while she weighs nearly 100 – she won. Except that when I say she won I mean she made a complete clown of herself and me, dragging the damn stroller through crowds of children, tearing up mulch, causing Moms to grab their children in fear and give me the glance of “You unfit Mother! And unfit dog mother too!” I swear this went on for two minutes – a ridiculously large canine with an even larger heart and pretty big fear factor trying to run from this out-of-control, plastic object that seemed to be terrorizing her on this fine day. So much for making friends with that super cool Mom I was just having a conversation with. She claims to have two large dogs at home and was even kind of enough to point out my iPhone was buried in the sand, my garage door opener now on the slide and the stroller busted for good. She must think I’m a complete idiot. And I must say, I don’t blame her. But on the bright side – L wasn’t in the stroller, so that’s good right? And her kids survived, so there’s another plus? No? Okay…

That said, the rest of our alone time was priceless, filled with Mother and Son moments I will not soon forget. The hugs, the games, the routine, the love, the smells, the magic – all so indescribable and all so amazing. Thank you buddy, for trusting and loving Mommy, fouls and all. These are just the first of many. Don’t worry – I’ll keep that therapy jar of yours full. Hey – maybe we’ll even have a fundraiser. At a park. Without Ellie…

And don’t tell Daddy, ok? He may not leave us home alone again…

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