It’s been almost a year. It doesn’t seem that long. Well, some parts do. Like Wednesday evening, when you were just plain mad all evening. And when I finally got you down and took my shower and was just about to drift off to sleep, you were up and mad again. Presumably because you were awake. Or maybe you were still mad that we had the audacity to make you be born 11 months ago. Or maybe you were upset at the news coverage, I guess it was a slow news day so everyone decided to replay news from 2 years ago. We want news, not olds, people.
But I wanted to poke her with the dinosaur...
It finally stopped raining long enough to get in the pool a few times this month. You are kicking like a pro, and I can get you to motorboat every once in a while. We’re still working on not diving head first into the water and trying to breathe it. It’s physics really, and as much as I’d like to change that for you, I don’t have the power.
I think we need to talk about sharing. Sharing is a good thing. You should share your toys with other kids; it will help you make friends. I’ve been trying to do some type of charity all year (and probably will continue to try to do something once a month for ever) to instill the idea that you should share your wealth in one way or another. But there are some things you should keep to yourself, and some things that have rules. The dogs share their toys with you, but you should not share your toys with the dogs. Primarily because their toys don’t rip to shreds as easily as yours do. While I understand the urge to give them the rest of your chicken, as fast as you can, so mama can’t stop you, and watch them scurry around like fish in a tank at feeding time trying to eat it all before they get caught. This actually teaches them to beg from you. And while I see that you don’t mind sharing your wagon wheels with them. A lick for Scarlett, a lick for you, a lick for Scarlett, a lick for you. One day you’ll have set out a pound of bacon on the counter for breakfast, you’ll turn back to the fridge to get the eggs out, and you’ll turn around just in time to see Scarlett make off with the bacon. You’ll chase after her and she’ll swallow the whole thing in 3 gulps, it’s like she’s a python and can unhinge her jaw. And that’s not something that we want to teach her is ok. Bacon is sacred. Also when I tell your girl friends in high school that you used to share food with the dogs like that, they might not want to kiss you, and you will want them to kiss you.
You seem to have a need to put things inside of other things. If I hand you one small toy, it’s not all that cool, if I hand you a container to put said toy in and take it out and put it in and take it out and put it in and take it out, its da bomb! So I can see the allure of the dogs’ food bowls. Lots of little stuff to take out and put in and take out and put in. Plus, it’s small enough to put in your mouth, and it must taste ok, you keep doing it. When you’re older and have molars and can crunch it, I probably won’t stop you from eating it, but for now? Stop trying to eat the dog food. I’m sure it won’t hurt you nutritionally, but since you have no molars, it’s a choking hazard and the very last thing I want to do after giving you the Heimlich is tell the good doctor that you were eating dog food. I know, you share your food with them, they should share their food with you, by all accounts it’s totally unfair of me to put those kind of restrictions on you. There’s a whole nother separate issue about how some dogs don’t appreciate you messing with their food, and while our dogs seem ok with it, I don’t want to get a call from your friend’s mother about how you were trying to get a snack from the dog bowl and their dog bit you. I’m such an evil mother. You can tell your therapist all about it, and how I outted you to the internet as well.
Other people’s dogs will also probably not tolerate you whacking them with a spatula for the fun of it. Poor Scarlett just sits there and takes it. Fiona at least has the sense to get up and walk away, she knows she’s faster than you and you can’t catch her. Yet. I don’t know if it’s that Scarlett thinks it’s ok that you do that to her, that she thinks she’ll be in trouble for abandoning you, or if she’s just biding her time so she can lick your face again and maybe get some of your leftovers that you like to carry around on your cheeks.
This past weekend we bought you a new slotted spoon and spatula. The whacking that followed was more whacking than an entire season of Sopranos. Shortly after purchasing them, the sky fell out and we were stuck in the store for a good 15-20 minutes before I had enough of the whacking of the display where we were sitting, trying to wait it out and we just walked through the pouring rain out to the car. We also went to a kitchen and bath store, the kitchen section is your play ground. You know how some kids throw a fit when you make them leave the toy store or the toy aisle. Hell hath no fury like an infant parted from his measuring cups.
Do you really think you deserve this?
Next month you turn 1. I can hardly believe it has almost been a year since you took over as CEO of the Wood Life. I hope you realize that the position as CEO is not a lifetime position and one day the tides will turn. After this stint you should realize that you may not be CEO again until you move out. Enjoy it while you can.