I know...not a very esoteric title, but this has been on my mind lately. I occurred to me that I do and say certain things that, most certainly, were not in my vocabulary 3-4 years ago.
Here they are, in no particular order:
1. "I'm sorry but 7:00 is too late for us."
Yeah, so ever since this guy was old enough to get cranky after a certain hour of the night, we have had to decline late jaunts out, unless, of course, we get a babysitter--which, in our economic situation, isn't the ideal. Quinn's bedtime is 6:30/7 pm, so it's either early evening or not at all. For a woman who used to think that 10pm was ideal for getting together, this is certainly something I never thought would slip out of my mouth in sincerity.
2. "It's just a little poo."
No joke. I've said this and many other moms have too, I am sure. After the initial awe of the baby wears off and after it truly sinks in that you have to change them ALL THE TIME and it's not going to get any easier, sometimes the evaluation of how "pooey" a baby is is needed. After about an hour of changing Quinn, and we have to go somewhere or do something, I'll take a peek. If it's major, I'll change him; if it's a little bit and I think he can go an hour longer, "It's just a little poo." I never thought I'd measure poo or have a poo:time ratio in my head.
I was recently talking with my sister-in-law about things you just don't get worked about any more in regards to kids; for me it was spit-up, which Quinn did ALL THE TIME! After a while, I just said, "Kid, you are in that onsie and I'm not changing you any time soon!" She told me for her it was poo; she said, "She's fine, it's a just a little poo here and there..."
3. Talk about poo
Well, since we were just speaking of poo...I never ever thought that poo would become such an extensive part of my daily communication with other adults. At at least one point in every conversation I find myself on the topic of what comes out of my son's tookus...As if there isn't anything else important to talk about.
4. "Honey, pick up some milk and bread."
I confess that I have called Daniel and requested the above items. These things are bad or weird in themselves, but it so 1950s! These two items are the essentials in a toddlers life; when you run out, you need to get more. Oddly, I find that these two can run out at the same time; some sort of milk/bread conspiracy. The first time I asked Daniel to pick up some "milk and bread" on the way home, I felt that I had truly become a stay-at-home mom.
5. Want to play on the floor
I am not joking when I say that as an adult before children I never imagined that I would voluntarily play on the floor with my child. I really don't have the personality nor the temperament to sit and play with toys that are, and I'm not bragging here, way too easy. But, the funny thing is that when it's your kid and not one that you are babysitting, the rules are different. That kid changes you, a little. When it's your kid, sitting on the floor and playing mindless games become entertaining, fun, and a love fest.
6. Skip pages in a Children's Book
Okay, this book is pretty good. My mother-in-law got it for Quinn on his first Christmas which was 2 1/2 weeks after he was born (2006). It's got some catchy rhymes that sometimes do or do not relate to the topic. It's got a good message: God loves me no matter what I do, good or bad, happy or sad, brave or scared. Though at times, my theological eyebrow raises and says, "Wha!? Was that just some gnosticism I just read" and then I just turn the page and remind myself that the author was just trying to create a rhyme and this is, after all, a Children's book and not the next new Systematic Theology text on the Character of God!
Anyway, this book is one of Quinn's favorites and it is one the longest books he owns--coming in at a whopping 25 pages! Anyway, I have found that at times when I'm not really in the mood to read to him (I know, so bad; but honest, right?), that I will actually turn multiple pages at a time. In short, I skip pages. Right now, Quinn doesn't know the difference; but, soon enough he will and I'll be trouble! But for now, I can get through this book pretty quick with skipping a couple of pages here and there.
7. "We've already read that one 3 times."
This one goes with the previous one. I never thought I could get sick of reading baby books; I mean they are pretty short (most of the time, see number 5) and can be cute. In fact, when I was pregnant with Quinn, I purposely picked out books that I liked and that I found amusing (anything by Sandra Boynton!). Anyway, as I wasn't fully warned by my friends with older kids, it turns out that little children like to read books, and for them the plot doesn't get old! UGH! I've actually has to say to Quinn, "Honey, can you please go back and get another book that we haven't read multiply times in the past 10 minutes? PLEASE!?!?" I love Hippos Go Berserk; but, that's all they do...all 44 hippos show up and party like hippos can and then they leave and the one hippo is all alone. I mean, that's it. It's not a choose your own adventure: "Should Hippo 1 let in Hippos 2 and 3? go to page 3; or Should Hippo 1 order a small pizza for one? go to page 5", at least I could read that one twice and fool myself into thinking that it's two different stories.
Oh well. Tis the life of a mom who stays-at-home! I really must find a way to get rid of the long books...!!
AND,
8. "Do you want boobs?"
I know, you are asking, is this blog page G or XXX? Well, it's definitely G as long as you are comfortable with breastfeeding! Anyway, I never thought that I would refer parts of my body in a way that was comparable to an offer of cookies. But this is how we spoke to Quinn--and, yes, he's become quite the talker and likes to point out my "boobs". Some people say, "Do you want a bottle?" or "Do you want to nurse?" But not me; I chose the subtle and not-so-in-your-face-about-my-breastfeeding terminology, "Do you want boobs?" I think if Quinn were lost in a store and they asked him for the name of his mommy he'd first say, "Mama" and then when prodded a bit more, he'd say, "Oh, Boobs."
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