When you make the decision to have a child you make the decision to drastically change your life. You accept that things will never be as they were, and if you are anything like me you have to accept that some days are going to be rough and other days you are going to look rough and then, some days, you leave the house without a bra… Hopefully you aren’t that much like me though. Life happens though and I have found in my life (especially since having a child) that you just have to roll with it, if you are fighting against the inevitable you’re no better than Wile E Coyote, you’re just asking for it my friend.
Two truly minor events happened recently that seemed like overly catastrophic, seriously devastating incidents, and I was reminded of a few things; 1 – I will NEVER be alone again, 2 – NEVER turn your back on the little human, and C – NEVER get mad at the life I chose…
WARNING: If you are easily made uncomfortable by potty talk (literally) or bodily functions… Just skip a few lines, or suck it up, it’s really not that bad.
It was a Sunday evening and Donovan and I were getting ready for bed… Dinner done, showers done, now it was time to relax. We grabbed a stack of books and snuggled up on the couch, but then, of course just then, my stomach started speaking to me… Loudly! It was those sounds of a whale communicating with it’s pod (possibly a mayday call) coming from my guts, that universal language that everyone knows when they hear it, and they know it does not mean anything good… So off to the facilities I went and left Donovan to hang out with his best bud Boone (my 95 pound rescue dog who has accepted Donovan into his pack). I feel like I’m making great time and everything is going well until, in gallops Boone followed closely by Donovan wielding a plastic hammer and saw (yes the door was cracked open, I gotta keep an eye on my kid as best I can… even while using the toilet). Now the bathroom door is wide open and there is a dog the size of small pony and a not so small child getting far too close to me in a small and uncomfortable space… Just in case you were wondering, had you come to my kitchen door that night, we would have made eye contact while I sat there with my pants around my ankles and you would have witnessed my son ‘fixing’ my dog with a hammer and saw on the bathroom floor.
To recap… I’ll never be alone again (well until Donovan leaves, but I can’t even think about that now), and maybe it’s OK to shut the door once in a while.
Only days after the bathroom fiasco we had a debacle of another sort. Apparently this one year old of mine is quite the stealthy little ninja and has the ability to move and remove things without making a single sound. This was the first surprising discovery of the morning, my child is not even quiet in his sleep, so for him to take my over-sized work bag off the kitchen table and rummage through it without so much as a rattle from all the junk inside was impressive to say the least. I was washing dishes so my back was turned to him, I didn’t think anything of the silence until it had gone on just a bit too long. I turned around to find (somewhat to my relief), Donovan had only removed one solitary item from my bag, my jar of almond butter. Not only had he removed the jar from my bag before I turned around, but he had also managed to unscrew the lid (still can’t figure that one out) and had commenced his feast. I am either going deaf or, I am going to have to put pad locks on my son’s door when he is a teenager because he is that sneaky! He had to have been going to town on that almond butter for at least 3 minutes, it was all over his face, his belly, his hands, the floor – lucky for me he was only in a diaper and really, the biggest win, he never felt the need to run those sticky coated fingers into his wild hair (Thank you Baby Jesus!!).
Obviously this little man was beyond proud of himself for getting this all done himself, but my lessons… Always have one eye on the small human and stop leaving potentially disastrous paraphernalia in my bag.
Being a single parent is trying at times to say the least, when he’s not licking the dogs because they licked him, he’s trying to use the toilet brush to do his hair… Some days you just feel like there is no winning, and retreating before the battle even starts is always a feasible option. You won’t ever hear a complaint from me though, I didn’t know all that this motherhood thing entailed before I signed up, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything now… Really, I think I lucked out, granted, I get twice the smacks to the face and pulled hair and mystery stains on my clothes and all the bags under my eyes… but I also get twice the love and extra hugs and kisses every day. I’ll take that ratio any day.