I bet you’re thinking the title of this blog post refers to Pumpkin, but with all humility I must admit that this one is about yours truly. Seems that I am irresistible. Of course, I’ve always known this, but now I have a little 25-pound, 18-month old Pumpkin to confirm it.
It started last week out of nowhere. It was like any other Monday. We rise, we shine, we give God the glory, glory and then we’re off to school. After those first few weeks, we hadn’t shed a tear. Then, Monday morning, I put her little feet on the ground and her face screws up into the tightest little ball of sadness you have ever seen. The hysterics escalated from what we dealt with before and included her actually trying to pry the door open as I was pulling it shut and sticking her red, teary face out of it to scream at me as I left the building. Guilt, much?
So this went on the entire week last week. Her little classmates got in on the comforting action, trying to hug her and give her open-mouth slobbery kisses and offering toys. Nothing helped. I was back at the quit-my-job-and-stay-home-with-her-all-day square.
Then comes the weekend and I realize it isn’t school at all that is making her nuts – it’s ME. She wants ME. And she let me and everyone else know it all weekend. She wanted to be held or otherwise somehow physically connected to me at all times. If she was more than a finger-reach away, I got an earful of “mom, mom, mama, mommy, mom, momomomomomoARGH!” She even wakes up at 11:30 on the dot every night to make sure I’m still there.
Last night we finally reached the tipping point where both Hubby and I had to just laugh out loud. I was in the shower for approximately 2 minutes when I pull my face out from under the water only to jump back in surprise at the two little hands and the little face pressed up against the glass door trying to see through the steam. With our first moment of eye contact I was greeted with a loud “MAMA!” Hubby then located her (she had run away from him to find me) and scooped her up. I finished my shower in another two minutes and when I emerged back into the living room was greeted with an arms-wide-open-full-speed-run-to-hug with another exuberant “MAMA!” You would have thought we had been separated since birth and she had devoted her entire 18-months to locating me. In reality I just took a shower.
I have to keep reminding myself to savor it. While at times I feel like I need to have this new appendage surgically removed, I realize that in no time she will be scoffing at any offer to hang out with me and trying to find anyone other than me to do things with. I know it’s inevitable. And it is then that I will tell these stories to anyone who will listen including Pumpkin and all her friends.
In the moments that she doesn’t have a frantic APB out on mama, Pumpkin continues to amaze and delight. Hubby and I were ready to call Oxford and get her on the early admission program when she got out her first words book last night and proceeded to accurately identify and articulate the name of every picture on the page. Then we were considering having an NCAA press conference when, after mastering the traditional mode of operating her new slide, Pumpkin proceeded to scale the slide from the bottom and, just as the words “this is never going to work” came out of Hubby’s mouth she mounted the top and looked around proudly (before going tummy down and feet first to the ground).
While most of what she is learning is awe-inspiring, I have to say some of her manners leave much to be desired. I’ve been trying to battle her incessant “huh’s” every time someone asks her a question that she doesn’t have a ready answer to. Unfortunately, I have yet to convince her that “pardon me” is a more appropriate way to handle her confusion.
Then there was Halloween. Now, I have to admit I struggled a lot with Halloween. First of all, I hate Halloween. Always have. Even as a child. And it wasn’t the traditional things about it like being scared and witches and goblins that made me hate it. I actually like a good scare, love horror movies, etc. It’s just the whole idea of trick-or-treating that I could never get into. Then, here I am 31 years in to my life and I’m walking with Pumpkin realizing just how much I HATE HALLOWEEN. Now, don’t get me wrong, she was adorable and we had a blast, but as we knocked on every door I’m thinking to myself “why am I teaching my kid that it is okay to (a) knock on strangers’ doors and (b) take candy from them when they answer.” It just wasn’t sitting well.
But she was so darn cute. That was lucky for us since at each house the doting neighbor would drop a handful of candy into Pumpkin’s monogrammed trick-or-treat bag and then Pumpkin would shove her little fist into their bowl to grab a second handful, as if to say, “sorry lady, that just wasn’t enough.” Then, when the door, would shut, if the homeowner were unfortunate enough to have window panels on the sides of their doors or a window anywhere on the porch that she could reach, she would peer in to see where they went with the candy. At some homes, she would start peeping before we even knocked. Like I said, luckily she is cute, because we haven’t mastered polite.
Comments
Post a Comment