Pretty much describes every day in the life of a family with small kids.
Good things happen, generally just when you have finally decided that they never will. Just when you look at your chubby-thighed cherub of a 14-month-old and envision her graduating from high school without ever uttering a single word (and maybe, just maybe, as they hand her a diploma, she'll get so caught up in the emotion that she'll float momentarily out of sulky teen angst, look directly into my eyes and say, "Mama?" And there will be tears and rejoicing! )... Um... What was I saying? Right. Good things. In any case, just when I had given up on ever hearing my youngest speak, she did. We were in the car driving from somewhere in TX to somewhere else in TX and she was fussing, "mamamamamamamamaaaaaaaaaaa...." All of a sudden, you could almost her the lightbulb click on. She stopped, said, MAMA?!" and twisted around in her carseat to look right at me. She has since said, "Mama!" seven billion times, to which I always reply, "Yes, baby? Good Job! Yes, MAMA!" and smile. And she smiles back, satisfied and proud. So good.
And as much as you expect your child to never meet milestones you want them to meet, you also get totally taken by surprise when some sweet stage you hope never ends actually ends. This past week my son fell and bumped his head. He fussed, I held him close and kissed his bump. He pulled away, rubbing the offending spot and said, "Mommy, kissing doesn't help anymore." Ouch (ironically, a kiss would have helped MY owie).
Luckily, even though parenting (and scorpions) sometimes hurt, you can pretty much count on at least one good laugh a day. Last Saturday I was walking through the kitchen and stepped right on a scorpion. I have been wondering when this would happen since we've seen our fair share of the little hateful jerks in the past 2 years. I am only glad it was me and not one of the kids (though I would have been ok with it being my husband and not me). In any case, I sort of exclaimed loudly and everyone came running to see what happened. I cautioned my son not to get too close and he leaned over my mortally wounded opponent and exclaimed, "Oh. my. LORD. He is so cute! Can we keep him as a pet? Please, please, pretty please?" I have no idea where he comes up with this stuff. I also have no idea what made him think of Santa on a 95 degree day in July, but I did catch him peering up the chimney tonight calling, "Santa? Saaaaanta!" I asked if he thought Santa was up there and he said, "I dunno. Probably."
Good, bad and silly. Just another week.
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