Wednesday, 26 September 2012
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My Son, The Jerkwad :-)
Baby D is a little over a year and half now, and while he still refuses to speak English and only communicates in Babynese, the other hamsters in his head are definitely turning their wheels. His understanding of how things work is frightening, and coupled with his spider-monkey-on-steroids acrobatics, this leads to one clever little ankle-biter.During breakfast, second breakfast, brunch, snacktime, lunch, snacktime, or dinner, Baby D makes sure that everyone is fed, including the dog. He'll be a polite table-guest for a few minutes, tricking me into thinking it's safe to go wash the chalk off the walls, or pick up the dismembered package of baby wipes, then start calling, "DOB (dog)! DOB! DOB!" There comes the dog, eager to eat as much of anything that isn't puppy chow as possible, and Baby D will extend a hand of goodies her way. As soon as she's within slobbering reach though, Baby D retracts his hand and smacks her across the face. Being the masochistic bitch that she is, the dog assumes that he only hits her because he loves her, so she stops her cowering and returns, and the teasing and traumatizing hitting continues until mama steps in.
When we play outside (play being getting a tan while the hell hounds tire themselves out before I lock them back in their Graco kennels), Baby D likes to test my limits. He'll run down the driveway until I shout out, "Baby D! Not in the street!" at which point he stops, creeps up until his toes are right at the edge of the driveway, and turns a deranged grin my way. "Don't do it, baby." The demon grin widens and he touches the street with one tip-toe. The time-out countdown begins, "One...two..." and Baby D runs back over to me, before yelling and shaking first one finger, then two fingers in my face.
The poor dog and I get most of Baby D's taunting, and his tolerable, well-behaved antics are save for Daddy & Tiny, however even his baby brother isn't totally safe. Baby D has taken to sharing his food with 6-month-old Tiny, and somehow the little one manages to inhale it (yesterday he at half a turkey sandwich, which I didn't realize until I saw the remnants of it on his high-chair tray). He even will hold Tiny in his lap and feed him a bottle, though as soon as my eyes go elsewhere, Baby D chugs as much formula as he can. When it comes to toys however, Tiny gets the short end of the stick. For the most part, Baby D will share, but when it comes to his SPECIAL toy box, the fiery inferno rises from the earth and engulfs the planet. The special toys are Baby D's Hot Wheels & a framed wallet-size photo of Daddy in preschool, which he stores in a Cars Easter basket. Tiny is of course interested in the Hot Wheels, since they are painted the most delicious of colors, and when he gets a hold of one the security devices are triggered and Baby D will appear, flailing, screaming, grabbing, & kicking. Every toy in the room gets thrown, every person is pushed away from the Hot Wheels, Baby D lifts poor Tiny up and drags him by the diaper far away, before Baby D throws himself on the floor in a screaming, thunderstorm tantrum.
Eventually the world is calm.
The children quiet themselves.
Mama comes out of her fetal position.
And Baby D convinces me yet again that he isn't actually Lucifer in an adorable baby suit.
Are there other moms out there who relate to the antics of my household? Cheers to you!
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About the Author
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- From: milfncookies@xanga
- Name: Bekka Björke
- About Me: Bitchy babe raising hell and a family.
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Comments (8)
Sounds like he's going to be a fun teenager... The kind that throws their mom in the pool for tanning instead of swimming. Sounds hella fun. I have a 14 month old who enjoys hitting his big sister just so he could say sorry.
I love the humor in this post! Yes, I can relate to a lot of this. My youngest, who is 2 1/2 is such a busy body (which is really only a nice way of saying he's a trouble maker). If it's quiet, we know to go running because he's either a) in the bathroom flushing toys and other items down the toilet, b) coloring on the walls or c) unraveling the TP. We find toys and kitchen spoons all over the apartment. He also has one of those devil grins and loves to push my buttons.
Wholly Smacks that's a busy-brained kid ! I don't think I was ever that active. Φ ≡
OMG. Baby D sounds exactly like this little boy I used to baby sit. He refused to talk execpt for rare occasions and when he did it was in full sentances, proper grammar included, like "would you like mee to get my milk? I can reach it" Although he still didn't understand how to articulate his words.
Now Short Sh** was a Hellian. He knew how to use tools to get through locked doors, how to work the vcr and create diversions for me while he scampered off somewhere else in the house. He was two. There was one time he attached the baby moniter to his mom's dog and ran into his baby brother's room, made baby cry and wait til I heard the dog running away with the baby monitor. I thought the baby was just as mischievious, had escaped his crib, and had gotten hurt somewhere. My bf was supposed to be watching SS. Then SS would run into the kitchen while no one was watching, use the broom to open the fridge and get the chocolate bananas I was saving for dessert. I didnt find out what he did until I tracked down the dog and on my way to check on the baby, found SS covered in chocolate and banana on the kitchen floor with the broom still in the open fridge handle.
"Danny did this. Not me".... SS blamed the dog...
His mother laughed when she got home, she was a good family friend of my bf's. Apparently whenever I had been visiting the family, SS behaved for Daddy. But not for me, my bf, or Mommy. She paid me generously, the house was still in working order and SS hadn't set fire to anything. Yet. The time he did, I resigned, clearly not fit to watch this kid. I told Mommy I'd help again when he was older and not as prone to create total chaos.
You are so on target as a wonderful mother, and since I babysit my 12 month old very active, athletic, what we used to call "all boy" grandson, I related to everything you said. He's almost climbing over baby gates, and I'm not sure what I'm going to do then, because it'll be non stop running to chase the little critter. It's also been a hard year for almost 60 year old gramma. It's not as easy and natural as it was in my 20's, having and raising my own. Though I'm gramma, he's someone else's baby, so I'm keen to be respectful of their wishes concerning important issues. He is lactose intolerant, part Asian American, and they are something like 90% intolerant, right from the get go, but it took working with the doctor a while to figure it out as his symptoms weren't part of the norm. He was then colicky, which was exhausting for all of us, until we discovered Colic Calm online, and got permission to use it. He then began teething waaaay too soon, and now has 8 teeth in his mouth that I have to lightly brush. He is saying words, but prefers being nature boy outside, so grampa built him a supreme sandbox, and we have a ball in it. Hats off to all you moms out there doing your very best to get through each day, usually without much time for yourself. Don't be hard on yourself, and don't expect the same standards of house care, cooking etc. These years will fly by, and you'll wish you just enjoyed them more.
He sounds like my five-year-old. His favorite thing is to terrify the cats. He'll pet them gently when I'm watching, but as soon as I turn my head he'll flip them on their backs and grab their belly skin in both fists. Or he'll put a dog treat on the couch, and when the dog jumps up to eat it he'll kick her back down.
Oh my gosh. This is hilarious, and supports my belief that children are the devils advocates. Hahaha.
Baby D sounds really cute and adorable :D This post made me smile a lot :D