Month 9, Version 2.0

Month 9, Version 2.0

Dear Miles,

Right off the bat, I need to apologize for the series of blows your head has taken recently – typically under my supervision.  Perhaps I’m a little loosey goosey when it comes to parenting you or perhaps that’s just a casualty of having multiple children.  I’m embarrassed to say but on more than one occasion while holding you on my hip, I have accidentally knocked your head in to something in passing.  Doors, cabinets, walls have all met your head at some point.  You could be sitting three feet away from concrete and still manage to smack your head.  These incidents usually involve a horrific skull cracking sound followed by a blood curdling cry that makes me think at any moment, some agency is going to knock on my door and demand that I hand over my parental responsibilities to some thing far more talented at this motherhood business like say, a piece of cardboard.  Frankly, I think I just get in the way.  My being presents these horrible incidents that I can only imagine are causing permanent long term damage at this point.  Nobody can take these many hits to the head and not suffer some kind of repercussion.

In addition to this repeated head trauma you are experiencing, I am also noticing a little aggression being taken out on you by your adorably sweet sister.  When she thinks nobody is watching, I have witnessed her push you from behind or push you down if you are trying to stand up.  Once you start crying, she runs away with the most guilty expression I have ever witnessed.  I feel horrible that you’re experiencing so many bumps and bruises in the handful of months you have been alive.  Believe me, I won’t forget any of this and I will allow you to take revenge on your sister one day.  There will come a day when you too will think nobody is watching and you may engage in a little hair pulling or nudging and I just may in fact turn the other cheek.  This is my gift to you – enjoy.

Your body is still getting used to the numerous solid foods we throw at you and these new food items mean a plethora of crap.  Yes, poop of all colors and consistencies.  My absolute favorite poop is the crumbly poop.  What is crumbly poop, you may be asking yourself?  Well, it’s exactly as it sounds.  It sticks on to your butt like tar and I spend a good minute putting significant elbow in to scrubbing your tush with a wipe that has no scouring abilities.  Once your butt is a bright red hue, I spend a good amount of time locating the pellets that sprung from your diaper when I opened it.  It wouldn’t be so bad to clean except these little shit pellets have a way of disintegrating in to a massive smear when you attempt to pick them up.  I had the glorious pleasure of discovering one of these pellets with my bare foot while you gyrated across the changing pad smearing what ever pellets were around or near your behind.  These are the moments I wish I would have asked your Father to change you.

I’ve mentioned this before that I don’t check the baby book very often so I’m a little clueless as to what developmental skills you should be achieving.  This is quite the opposite from when Olivia was your age – I read that thing nightly and knew exactly what I should be working on with her.  You can imagine how I was blindsided at your Doctor’s appointment when she asked me if you could do x, y and z and I looked rather dumbfounded at the fact that either I didn’t try any of those things yet or you simply cannot.  For example, your doctor casually asked, “Does Miles say Momma or Dadda yet?”  My reaction was “uh, absolutely not.  Should he?”  She then asks, “Well, does he try to vocalize any word?”  Again, stellar parenting on my end replies with “Um, I don’t think so but he sure likes to growl and grunt!”  I think there is a part of me that isn’t working on this with you because I know once you learn the word ‘Momma,’ you will never stop saying it.  I’m not excited to hear it from another infant because Olivia holds the record of saying Momma every 1.2 seconds.  Her next question was whether you could wave your hand hello or goodbye.  CRAP!  What the hell else am I missing from this damn baby book – should you already be speaking french and carrying an attache case?!  Should you be able to grow a mustache and pour yourself a frosty beverage at the end of a stressful day?!  Needless to say I walked away from your doctor’s appointment feeling quite deflated.  Your day now consists of me wildly flapping your arm in the air while in a high pitched voice saying “HI!”  This is followed by me repeating, “SAY MOMMA!”  Which is followed by Olivia’s voice in some room of the house yelling “MOOOMMMMAAAA!”  We’re making some progress – when I tell you to wave hello, you hold your arm straight out in the air, a la Hitler and you still growl but typically with a smile.  Progress young Miles, progress!

Since I know what happens when a child learns to walk, I refuse to encourage you.  You somehow get a little better at it each day and as much as I try to show you that sitting still is so much more fun, you still continue to perfect your walking abilities.  You saunter sideways with Olivia’s doll stroller or you make laps around the coffee table – it is all still very early walking but I have caught you attempt to break away from what ever it is you are holding on to in an attempt to walk independently.  I shudder at the thought of you walking but I’m holding on to a little glimmer of hope that given your extreme Mom-dependence, you will never stray far.

I know you must be thinking that I’m pretty lousy at this parenting business but I’m going to tell you to be patient with me as I work out the kinks of being a parent to two children.  I’m going to ask you to hang in there a little bit longer because I really do have good intentions even if it seems to get lost somehow in translation.  I can promise you that I will always kiss your ouchies and I may even give you an extra cookie from time-to-time.  I know this doesn’t make up for a lack of things but I hope you use these as tallies in the good side of your checklist when you consider to send me to a good or bad nursing home.  Just another thing to consider, I’m the one who single-handedly carried you the first nine months and counting because you put up the biggest tantrum if you’re being held and you realize it’s not by me.  Yea, your first camping trip to the CA World Music Festival was really relaxing!  Again, I expect this as a good mark on the plus side of your checklist.  Obviously, if you experience some speech or cognitive delay in your lifetime as a result of all that I have mentioned above, I will do the mature thing and blame your Father.




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