I was really getting the sense that people don’t truly understand the pitch of my child’s scream. I say he is loud and really, really shrill and people just nod and smile at me condescendingly as if to say, “all babies are loud, Kinsey”. I am here now with proof that he is different – and not in a good way this time.
The back story is that I once, ONCE, let him watch himself on the video monitor and now when I pull out my video camera he wants to watch it again. That is why he keeps saying “Baby” and I keep saying “Baby is night, night”. Usually it works to tell him anyone or anything is night, night, but not this time.
You might want to turn down your speakers. I am not kidding. And please imagine this scream in a closed space like a car or bathroom.
This weekend Zachary will be a ring bearer (or flower boy, as his Grandpa Vince calls him) at his Uncle Dave’s wedding. The tux that Alex bought at Al’s is a size extra large. This really led us all to wonder – what must the small look like? And what crazy person is buying that? I think putting a 20 month old in a tux complete with vest and tiny bow tie is on the semi-coo coo list, but it is not my party.
Zachary is obsessed with shoes. Putting them on, taking them off, handing them to you. About 90% of the time when I pick him up from daycare he is only wearing one shoe (his left). But don’t think you can just take your shoes off when you please. No way, Jose. Zach would like for everyone to be near their assigned shoes preferably holding or wearing them. This is especially unfortunate when I am laying in bed trying to pretend like he is not awake and he walks over and hands me my shoes. In my bed. Gross me out.
But this week he figured out that he could walk in my shoes and some of Alex’s. I was sitting in the living room visiting with my cousins Randy and Erin and I hear this clomping noise coming at me. Zach has walked in my black flats, while drinking his milk, all the way from the back of the house to the front. He was a sight to see.
Moral of the story – don’t try to take off your shoes in my house unless Zach is not wearing shoes. You will be sorry my friends.
One thing that has struck me recently is how odd it is that Alex is now “Daddy”. I mean yes, he is technically his Zachary’s father and all but this is Alex, the guy I have known for 10 years. I feel like we are still 22 and just playing house. Especially when he is taking out the trash or when we watch him mow the lawn (yes, we, Zach and I watch him mow the lawn and wave. The entire time.) I have seen Alex drunk and silly, serious and sad, and all phases in between. When I look at Alex that is what I see. Or I see the person that is driving me crazy at any given moment.
Back to my original point – It was strange enough to start thinking of Alex as my husband when we got married. That took a few work parties and such to get used to the sound of it. You would think after 18 months of calling him Daddy with Zach I would be used to it. But it has really just been in the past 2 months that Zach has confirmed who that blond guy living in our house is. And oh how Zach loves to talk about his Daddy. “A Daddy?” (translated to where is Daddy?) is a constant refrain around our house. Then when Alex is in the room he likes to point at him and confirm “Daddy?” like perhaps he was mistaken the 800 other times he asked if that was his father. I feel my fidelity is challenged by my son.
So each day we talk, sing, point and yell about Daddy. And when Daddy comes in the door, oh the joy that is in our house! I will be posting a video later this week of what occurs. But I just can not help thinking, he is not my Daddy, (the name I still call my father) he is Zach’s Daddy and it is just weird, weird, weird. Am I making any sense? I feel like I am in some sort of strange mom-land and someone needs to tell me that I am NOT crazy…anyone? anyone?
One thing Zach really likes to do is to show you his belly and see yours. With me, he prefers to climb into my lap, try to push me down and lay on my belly -getting off to lift up my shirt to see the belly. I don’t really know why or when or how this started and though I do think it is slightly odd, I just go with it. Unless it is in public then I let him know that Mommy’s belly has not seen the light of day in many years and we need to keep it that way. And then I tell him to go show his daddy his belly, he has been asking to see it.
My sister and Dewayne came to stay this past weekend to take care of Zach and being that she is 8 months pregnant I knew Zach would LOVE her belly. I was 100% correct. Apparently he made her get down so he could put his belly to her belly and then took to hugging it as well. So sweet since he is actually hugging his cousin Chuck in there!
Monday night Zach’s right eye started swelling up. I was not really that concerned. I mean the boy had just wandered in drinking his sippy cup while wearing my black work flats – he totally could have tripped. But I was suprised that I did not hear him go down or the aftermath of the fall. Alex tries to get worried (that is his job) but I just make a “pffft” noise and put Zach to bed. One caveat – I did go check on him once he was sleeping thinking that perhaps his eye was swelling becuase his brain was swelling. What? Where do I get this?
I was sure the next morning it was going to be swollen shut, but it was just the same puffiness. Anyway, off the doc we went, me in my work makeup and clothes to find out that Zach has pink eye and I will not be going to work for a few days. At least. Well this is just awesome. No, really I did think it was awesome!
In my heart of hearts I am constantly sure that I am meant to be a stay at home mom. I mean I love to cook and bake, I craft, I sing, I read books about games to do – how could I NOT be? Well let me tell you all it takes is two days with my child and I am reminded that no, I am a working mom. Well, a part-time working mom. And I love it.
I am just not cut out for the stress of entertaining and teaching my child all day. I have such high expections of myself – well of his school and I just know that his school is doing a much better job than me. We didn’t do art or music class these past two days. We went to the vet and to lunch and to the park until I wanted to die and had to hussle him home. I keep wishing and thinking that someday I am going to become a SAHM but I am just not cut out for it. I need to keep my day job.