Yes, he is the best thing that ever happened to me. Yes, I love him more than I have ever loved anything or anyone else. But for fuck sake this child rearing business is not as easy as people make it out to be.
I think I must have been spared the terrible two’s since the Kid was a cry-baby and the universe just thought I had enough for about a while. So, I was quite innocent when it came to tantrums, refusing food, or just complete chaos. Well not anymore. The Kid is now officially at the age he is testing me. He just loves seeing how insane he can make me in a short amount of time. Because that is just really, really funny to him. And his face when he succeeds is very funny to me, so the whole being strict thing does not really work around here.
Yesterday it was Mama day. The day me and him do fun things while in between I try to work. Since we went to wintertime the Kid has not slept past 05:30 and Mama day was no exception. So, after the mandatory trying to get him to relax in bed with me, which usually buys me about 20 minutes, the conversation starts: “Mamaaa”. How do they find such an un-ignorable pitch I have often wondered, there is just no getting around it. So I say: “yeeessss?”, and he asks: “is this my knee?”, at which I melt and get into an hour-long conversation about body parts.
At 07:00, 1.5 hours into this day, I have a shower while being critically watched by the Kid, after which I do my make-up while he plays with cheap versions of the same thing. I have tried to tell him he does not need it but as mentioned above, he does not really listen to me. I had a meeting at the Office at 09:00 so on the bike we went. He screamed “what the fuck” all the way. Now how should I react to that? When I tell him off, he has just discovered something great and will never stop. When I ignore it, people look at me like I am the worst mother in the world. Still opting for the last option though, keep biking, head held high, ignore ignore ignore. It is working, so far he has not “what the fucked” for a few days.
Once in the office he behaved amazingly, everybody including me thought he was the cutest boy in the world. He tends to do this, behaving when around other people. So, as a treat I took him out for a pancake. As soon as he saw the pancake it was all wrong. Admittedly it was kind of a hipster creation with coconut stuff and blueberries on top but even after taking all the stuff off and drenching the whole situation in syrup he would not eat it. He did however manage to throw half of it on top of me, pour his apple juice on the floor, climb on the table, crawl under the table, bang his head, scream and freaked out just about all the hipsters in there.
Time to go home, get him to bed and work for two hours. We are now 9 hours into this day when the kid wakes up and I drag my face from the excel file I have been pouring my soul into. He is the cutest when he just wakes up, all glowing cheeks and cuddly limbs. I revel in it for as long as it lasts. All too soon he wants Nemo, and grapes “Nohoo Mamaa, don’t cut them!!”. The little dictator is back.
We play around the house and go on a dreaded supermarket trip. We get him a kid trolley and then this weird thing happens. It has happened before. He all off a sudden seems to have eight pairs of hands that cannot stop touching everything in their vicinity. Glass jars, cheeses, vegetables, nothing is safe, and I am running around saying “noo, do not touch that, put that back!!” for the rest of the shopping trip. He gets particularly enthusiastic in the wine and beer isle, where little wines have got his fancy lately. He definitely thinks that little wine bottles are for little people.
I was going to cook sticky beef with noodles and stir fried vegetables but the Kid found the tortellini. With a bit of a wrestle I managed to swap the ham kind he was clutching for the cheese ones but that was as far as I got. Time to leave the supermarket but not after the struggle that ensues every time at the fucking kid’s car thing that supermarkets love so much. the Kid hangs on to it for dear life while I explain, as always, that I do not have the 50 cents it requires. Very ill prepared mom.
When we get home, he sits on the kitchen desk, eating cucumber and tomato while I make tortellini. This is the highlight of every day. When 14 hours into it he is safely singing songs in bed I crash on the couch thinking that I have the best kid in the world. Who knows, maybe he will sleep till 06:00 tomorrow. Now let’s get some work done!