I have been someones "Mom" for exactly 7 weeks today and I am tired. I am so tired that I talk in incoherent sentences. I am so tired that I misplace things constantly (and let me tell you, when your son has one pacifier that is his favorite, this is a BIG DEAL). I am so tired that it feels like someone pulled off my face, laid down a layer of bubble wrap that has an angry bee in each bubble on the exposed tissue and put my face back on with staples. I am so tired that I've gone from fuzzy, to zombie, to mean (just ask my staff evidently), to stupid all in the last 48 hours.
But, this is totally worth it because my son learned to play today. He has a new toy (of course everything is new to him as he is an infant) that is evidently the shit. And it makes him smile and coo and do all those other great things that infants do that make you say "awwww" that change on a daily basis. So, I guess I can deal with bees for a while.
And I can be "Jacks Mom" just as well as I was "The Domestic Goddess." Actually I think it's a label that I wear even better. I've discovered that while being "Mom" is the hardest things I have or will ever do, it is also the most rewarding. See above paragraph. So this is my new home. If you know me and are sick of listening to me go on and on about Jack, well, fuck off. I was in labor for 21 hours and created life! (Insert maniacal laugh here). What have you done lately?
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About Me
- Jacks Mom
- My name is Jack's Mom. That's not what it says on my drivers license but I stopped being my own person at 6:02 am on May 30, 2008.
So he'll have something to tell his therapist in 30 years.
Things Jack can now do...'cause I know you care.
- Grow teeth.
- Poop big boy poop. See list below.
- Eat food. He likes green beans.
- Sit up...sort of.
- Roll over.
- Hang up on people.
- Change the setting on your tv with the remote so that it now displays close captioning in Spanish.
- Make razzzberries. pppzzzzzzzzt!
- Grab the bottle (or boob) when you hand it to him. He can't hold it on his own, but he's making progress.
- Laugh. And laugh and laugh. And make adults around him laugh like a dumbass.
- No long pound his angry little fist durning tummy time. He likes it. And is, in fact, trying to crawl.
- Pound his angry little fists during tummy time.
- Talk. But at this point it just sounds like German.
- Melt hearts.
- Make alot of spit and bubbles.
- Pop his pacifier 4 feet across a room.
- Play with toys. He likes crinkly ones the best
- Take his socks off.
- Hold his head up for 20 seconds.
- Poop vertically.
- Pee a fountain that rivals the one at the Belagio Casino in Las Vegas.
- Turn his normally usually almost rational mother into a stark raving sleep deprived lunatic who is willing to bribe him with his own car if he'll just go back to sleep. For the love of god!
- Smile. It's the cure-all for everything.
- Scream bloody murder so that I'm sure my neighbors MUST think I'm comitting murder on someone.
- Poop seeds even though he has a liquid diet.
- Make my boobs leak just by crying.
- Make his mother and/or father disappear when around his grandparents. "Oh look...Jack's here." And so is his mother, who drove him here.
- Fart like a 40 year old man.
- Hang up on people.
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