earning my mommy badge

Some people discount the theory of evolution, but I see myself evolving daily. Maybe not from a chimp to a human, but from a post-college thirtysomething wife and working woman into a mother. It's a big change. My life revolves around the little guy now, not around me or around David or travel or gadgets or money... The only constant between then and now is the presence of God in my life--He has been front and center throughout my evolution, and thank goodness for that or I never would have made it.

I still don't always feel like a mommy. I feel most like a mommy when I'm fixing Dennis a meal. My mind sees that as a direct correlation, taking care of another person's acute physical needs, therefore I am responsible for that person, therefore I am a mother. Teaching Dennis things is fun, and that doesn't always feel like parenting. It feels a lot like playing, which is why he has so much fun learning things. I am astonished by how quickly he picks things out, how he learns to mimic our behaviors without us even realizing it. Today he grabbed a set of teething keys that he probably hasn't touched in six months, pronounced "keys", and made for his car and tried to insert them in the 'ignition'. Brilliant! He watches us. He does what we do. If we dip a chicken finger into sauce and eat it, he won't eat his chicken finger until we let him dip it as well. He says "thank you" all the time now, and I'd like to think that maybe we actually have nice manners for him to imitate.

Back to the motherhood issue--after an extremely easy day yesterday, the kind of day where I wonder why in heck I waited so long to have a child, the answer came to me at 2:30 this morning. I heard him tossing and turning and whimpering a little through the baby monitor and went in to check on him (another task that feels motherly). He was glad to see me, and he stood up for a hug. The hug revealed wet pajamas, and the wet pajamas came off to reveal a disgustingly poopy diaper. I cleaned him and dried him and put on a new diaper, and he never cried a bit, just watched me taking care of him. Just when I had the new diaper installed, he leaned up a little and threw up all over me. He tried to lay back down on the changing pad, but then choked on the next big launch, so I turned him on his side and let him finish. I called David for help because Dennis and I were so slippery that I couldn't safely pick him up and move him to the bathtub. Poor David. He's always been a sympathetic vomiter, and this was so hard on him. I only wanted help for a minute, but he cleaned up the whole changing table and floor while I bathed Dennis and myself. Dennis was happy in the bathtub, splashing and playing like nothing had happened, and after we were clean, I handed him up to David, who was holding out the dry towel. He bundled Dennis right up, and that's when he started vomiting again. David turned a nice shade of green but managed to keep from imitating him. He went swiftly back into the tub for more bathing, then into a clean towel, then to his room, where he wanted to play in his car. At this point, I heard an explosion from the southern end of Dennis, and sure enough, we had to put on a third clean diaper. We got him in clean pajamas, and just when we set him down in the bed, more throw up. Not much this time, but he cried and cried like the other times because he had no idea what was happening to him. We cleaned him up and cleaned up the bed, then put him down on a large towel in his crib (just in case). And I slept in the rocker recliner in his room, one we put there for just this purpose, though this is the first time it's been slept in all night. I'd like to thank the people at La-Z-Boy for a fairly decent night's sleep despite its brevity and despite the circumstances. The recliner was my great-grandmother's and is vinyl and impervious to the substances that come from babies, and it has been the perfect nursery rocker. (We have another special rocking chair in there as well, a wooden one that rocked baby David and his sister and all his cousins. Dennis likes to climb up in this one and rock himself silly like he does with his Cracker Barrel rocker at the lake house.) The point of this is to say that last night, I REALLY felt like a mother.

I am happy to report that Dennis was fine today, happy but still a little tired. He ate light things and didn't throw up at all, though he nearly burped us out of house and home. I had the stomach bug myself today, though a milder case than what he went through last night. Tonight we were well enough to accompany David to Lowe's to buy supplies for an emergency plumbing job (thankfully not our plumbing!). The pictures are of Dennis enjoying the heck out of the shopping cart shaped like a car with steering wheels. Bless those kind merchants who provide these carts. Not one little boredom screech was heard from him because he was busy driving his 'car' all over the store. Thank you Lowe's and Winn Dixie and Publix for shelling out a little bit extra for the cart that makes the shopping experience so much better.

Tonight I am one tired mother, for sure, and I feel like I've earned another stripe, or at least the sick-in-the-middle-of-the-night badge. Funny how being thrown up on isn't a big deal when it's your toddler that does it to you. Same with poop, but to a lesser degree. Poop is still poop, and it's never fun to be surprised with it landing on your person somewhere. Just now I've come to the conclusion (again) that parenting is filled with gross moments. But those moments just make you stronger and make you realize how wonderful the sweet times are. Tonight after we changed Dennis into his pajamas and handed him his Froggy and pacifier, I read him Goodnight Moon, and when I finished he said "yay" and then "thank you". And then "night night" as we put him in the crib. How sweet is that!