Dear Cole,
I must admit, the past month has been a challenge, but I have loved every second of it. You started out by simply rolling from your back to your tummy, and before I knew it you were scooting across the living room in a matter of seconds. You’re not crawling just yet; it looks kind of like you are doing the breast stroke on land. This would be okay if we did not live in a three story home. I’m constantly worrying that you are getting close to the stairs, so basically I’ve taken away a bit of your freedom that you deserve to have. You ought to have the option to go out and explore the house and this has been killing me. Each time that I set you down in the exersaucer (aka neglectasaucer) you put on your pouty face. I know why you’re pouting, because you want to be out roaming around and eating my magazines.
In came with the baby proofing! The first item on our baby proof to-do list was invest in baby gates. We got the gates for the top of both stair cases and soon enough we will need to get one for the bottom of one stairwell. I hate clutter and I feel like they add clutter to our home, but I’m willing to deal with it, just to make sure you are safe. One thing that totally blows is that Jackie O. and Swazie are having a hard time adjusting to being trapped in one area of the house. This is problematic because Jackie O. is getting trapped in areas without her little box and also because Swazie has learned that if she lets me get out of site, then I may run off to another area of the house and leave her to sit and whelp. Now that she has caught on, she will not leave me alone. She is always under my feet and right up in my business making sure we don’t run off and leave her. Goodness she is such a bitch, literally.
Speaking of our pets, you have really started appreciating Swazie Cakes. At first you would grab her ears and play tug of war with them, but just the other day I saw you gently pet her nose. You were cooing and Swazie was freaking out, because well, that’s all she ever does, but it was cute. Once you hear her collar jingle, you are automatically on rat dog patrol searching for her. Swazie is smarter than we think and always hangs out under your highchair when you are eating. You are constantly leaning over checking her out. This is kind of annoying at times, because I want you to hurry up and not take 3 hours to eat a jar of green beans, but since I’m a nice Mom I let you take your time to stare at your sister.
Speaking of the highchair, I made the biggest mistake ever. When you were say 4 or 5 months we put you in the highchair for the first time. For some weird reason I thought it was be funny to pound my hands repetitively on the tray and scream, “WE WANT FOOD” at your father while he was getting your dinner ready. My Mom saw me doing this one day and told me that I will regret teaching him this. For once, I decided that she was right, and never did it again. Well, the other day, out of nowhere I think your long term memory kicked in because all the sudden you started flailing your hands all over the place punding them on the tray. You were going nuts, and now you do it most of the time when you are sitting in your highchair and are being fed. Please slap me across the face for teaching you this.
You also are starting doing something that makes my heart melt. When I put out my arms to pick you up you reach for me with both of your tiny arms. I never even though this would be as cool as it is. I have been picking you up from “school” because your father and I have had to share a car for the past couple of weeks. When I walk in the door, you automatically reach out your arms for me. So flippin’ cute! Sometime when you are ready to get out of your neglectasaucer I will look over and see you just sitting there with your arms in the air as if your are thinking, “woman, get over hear and pick me up”.
Cole Man, I never though a baby could have such massive dumps. You definitely had your all time best blow out a couple of weekends ago when we were coming home from Austin. I was sitting in the back seat with you (yes, I know I said I would never be that Mom that sits in the back, well I lied). All the sudden you starting moaning the poop moan and your Dad and I automatically knew we were in for a treat. It was the runniest, yellowist, stinkiest poo that I have ever met. Let’s put it this way, I don’t think I will ever, ever be able to eat Chik-Fil-A honey mustard again. I started to see the mess seep out of your diaper and onto the car seat. From the car seat, it seeped through the crack and onto the seat of the car and before I know it, the massive dump had no where to go but on my thigh. Go figure I was not prepared for the trip and only had a limited amount of wipes. You’re Daddy and I made up a quick game plan and pulled over at a rest stop for Operation Depoop. His job was to take care of the mess in the car, and I was responsible for cleaning you up. The few baby wipes that we did have only cleaned up half of the mess. We were desperate and all we could think to use was your dirty outfits, one of which was my favorite. It was hard for me to throw it away, but I was so not keeping it. So there you were on the side of the freeway, lying on the back of the truck tail gate with your junk hanging out for all the rubberneckers to look at. All the sudden a gust of wind blew and I guess it excited you because you totally hosed me. So there I was covered in your poo and pee with a 2 hour car ride to go. Lucky me huh? Well it got worse, as I was carrying you to the cab of the car you looked up and barfed all over me. It was an awful ride home but at the same time one of the most memorable days ever. It makes me realize how well your father and I work together in a crisis.
Speaking of your father…your daddy loves you like no other. He amazes me each and everyday with his parenting skills. I’m not sure where he got them from, but he has it going on. Even though it’s hard for me to talk nicely about him right now, because he really chapped my ass this morning, I will not go into detail but let’s just say that he is going to hear an earful from me tonight. Anyways, back to the amazing father that he is. There is a special bond between you two. I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is that makes you two so close, but it’s really awesome to see. The second you hear the garage door open, you know that your favorite person is home and you get the biggest grin on your face. This grin stays put until he walks up the stairs and you two make eye contact. It’s so neat seeing how happy that makes my husband. You boys totally rock my world.
I know it may seem like I complain about your Dad at times on this little blog of mine, but just ingore it please. I love your father dearly and can’t imagine having anyone else as the father of my child. We are a family, and we will always stick together and be there for you no matter what. It’s something that I never want you to worry about. Yes, I may seem loco and throw a massive fit when Daddy refuses to clean out the litter box, but believe me I’m just trying to make a big scene so that he will one day, come to his senses and help shovel the shit from time to time.
I know this letter is a couple of weeks late, but just go with it. You will soon learn that I am on a timeline of my own. Better late than never right?
I love you!
Love, Mamasita
