Home or Away

At home, the baby (who will remain “the baby” until she grows hair and can say more than a dozen words) must be in close physical contact with me at all times.

She does not care that I am trying to pay bills online. She wants to be cradled in my arms while she watches the birds on our deck outside the window.

“Brr,” she says.

“Yes, a cowbird,” I reply.

“Brr,” she says.

“Yes, a downy woodpecker,” I reply.

“Brr,” she says.

“Yes, a hummingbird. Don’t you want to go watch TV?” I ask. Sign me up for the bad mom club. I just want 15 minutes to pay my phone bill.

She does not care that I want to make dinner. It is really difficult to chop an onion with a 22 pound baby on your hip.

She does not care that I want to plant gladiolus bulbs. Or mow the lawn. She had fun in the backpack the other day, but then she got hungry. “Eeeeet,” she said in my ear. And just in case I didn’t catch it over the roar of the motor, she pulled my hair until I turned to her and put her fingers to her mouth.

Away from home, the baby does not want to be anywhere near me. Oh, how I would love to sit and watch my boys play baseball. She could sit in my lap, and we could happily talk about birds in between pitches. But, no, she wants to go play in the parking lot. Or balance on the curb to the street. Or wander along the fence past the outfield.

I would love to sit and eat a meal in a restaurant. I am quite adept at eating with a child on my lap. I could even discuss birds in between bites. But the baby would rather crawl under the table and down the aisles. We took Fritz out to dinner for his birthday today, and I spent quite a bit of time in the lobby.

I would love to hold her close while shopping. After dinner, Fritz wanted to buy some Legos with birthday money. The baby went in the backpack. But she was not happy. She wanted to inspect the toys. She wanted to run up and down. She wanted to be free.

Perhaps if the store had had a bird section, she would have been happy to observe them from my back.

“Brr,” she would say.

“Yes, a canary,” I might reply.

Maybe I should decorate my house with large, red bulls’-eyes and put all the kids’ toys on metal shelving covered with shrink-wrap. I could probably pay the bills, make dinner and mow the lawn before she even noticed I was gone.
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4 thoughts on “Home or Away

  1. Happy Birthday, Fritz!!! I wish we could have stayed and celebrated with you. We miss you and love you so much!

  2. Very funny and cute. I’ve had a couple like that.

  3. Thanks for the chuckle! Very cute post!

  4. Oh, you described my little guy to a “T”. Today was particularly like this.

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