Doesn’t Petey look like such an angel in that nap time photo of him – taken on Saturday? Harumph. I’d like to draw in some horns and a pitchfork in there after yesterday’s no-nap debacle involving yet another stinky diaper. Bill suggested that I not try to put him down for a nap until after he goes to the bathroom. Yeah…if only he were that consistent…or cooperative. No nap until I fill my diaper? OK, mom I can hold out until 3 or 4 pm!
An acquaintance-friend has one child – a boy. He kicked her rear end as a baby, and she deferred having more children out of fear that she was a horrible mother. I’ll take her word for it how bad he was. I had limited exposure to his behavior and he seemed pretty normal to me.
But Petey looks like an angel in that photo, too.
Now that her son is four, he’s evened out and is more manageable. She and her husband have decided to risk that parenting adventure once again. She’s about 4 months along now, and still a bit worried about her parenting ability. “Maybe you’ll have an easy baby,” I suggested to her a few weeks ago. I’ve heard about these kids: the kind who coo happily at the dappled sunlight filtering in the room, who love to be held by grandma or auntie or anybody at all, the ones who only cry for clearly discernible reasons and who take regular, long naps with minimal effort. No child like that seems to want to claim me as their mother, but I’ve heard they exist. I was trying to offer her some hope.
We ran into them on Saturday and chatted briefly. The husband mentioned to Bill that they found out some shocking news.
They’re having twins.
Hoo boy. Even two easy babies are quite a handful.
Perhaps, though, her first-born son was her prep course for handling the next ones. The other day, I was watching Pete and trying to be more amused than shocked at his antics. Had he been my oldest son, I would probably have quit motherhood right then and there. He had a toy gun and was shooting everybody in the room (except for me, I might add – good boy!). He had all the appropriate sound effects and would inform his victims, “I shoot you!” with enthusiasm and a smile. Most disturbing was that every so often, he would turn the gun to his own head and shoot himself. He would say, “I dead,” and then prat-fall to the ground in a heap to the unveiled delight of all his siblings.
Yes, having older brothers is a blessing. Sure. This is an improvement over naked tap dancing or getting dressed up as a witch? Hmmm…
I take all things in stride. Most days, he really is more like that little angel in the photo.