…or maybe just ‘off’ switches?
I’m sure I’m not the only mother to think so, and I doubt I will be the last. Although I’m also sure there are plenty of grandmothers who are laughing at this thought when their children voice it, just like mine did. I love my Mum to death. If there’s one thing that being a mother has shown me it’s a brand new appreciation for what my Mum has done in raising me. Every time I get frustrated with my son, or with my own inability to understand or communicate with his nine-month old brain I marvel at what my Mum must have gone through and how she survived me at that age, or any age, and I feel sorry for a lot of the crap I pulled growing up.
I hope I can do half as good a job raising Declan as Mum did with me; lately it’s just been very trying. He’s at that stage where he’s really testing boundaries, because he’s learned to pull up and walk around the apartment. We’re also learning that what we thought was decent baby-proofing is NOT. Things that we were absolutely sure he wouldn’t be able to get into he can. Add to that he’s decided that starting on small amounts of solid food isn’t good enough, even if he’s eating the exact same thing that we are he wants what WE have rather than what’s in front of him…
He doesn’t want his toys; he wants remotes, the computer keyboard, headphones, random pieces paper, and of course absolutely everything goes in his mouth. My husband jokes the baby has the survival instincts of a kamikaze pilot, and there’s not a day goes by where we don’t wonder how our species survived this long. Then I realize it’s because of the dilligence of loving parents. All babies go through these stages and if it wasn’t for parents like us, or our own parents watching over them like hawks their every waking moment our species would NOT have survived.
So KUDOS to parents everywhere who dive and rugby tackle their children so they don’t eat random things that you thought for sure were vacuumed up; who step away for a moment so they can come back to their child when they’re calmer and won’t do something they’d regret out of tired frustration, who patiently repeat the word ‘NO’ as often as is necessary to get the point across, and who no matter how much they might wonder about it don’t actually run off to Mexico at 2 in the morning when their child won’t stop crying because of teething, but instead run up to CVS and get more teething tablets, gum soother (and a nice big candy bar for themselves!)
