You spend nine months pregnant, sometimes you can spend nine months trying to get pregnant, and I'm pretty sure that after a baby is born you spend the next nine months-plus trying to make the baby go to sleep. Oh, you love him. You think he's cute. His little smiles and coos charm you. But still, you want him to sleep so you can sleep or watch something good on TV or eat something hot.
My little piggy is sleeping in the bouncy chair while it vibrates, after a successful brunch outing with friends and then an additional outing with his dad. Of course he fussed at home and wanted an extraordinary amount of food that as per usual my body couldn't provide in full, but now he's quiet and all is well. And the Dude is out getting us Nutella lattes from some cafe that apparently sell such things.
I've been thinking about what kind of mother I'm going to be, and want to be, and every time I do I envision an older kid. I'm just not a baby person. I wouldn't trade my own for anything, mind you, but I'm really just biding my time for the real deal, a child. I want a child. In a way I'm almost there. I endured the pregnancy, and I'm going with the flow of newborn life. Soon he'll be more interactive and that's one step away from toddlerhood, which is the bridge to being a child.
Oh, I'm told all the time to "Cherish every minute" and that's all well and good, but I was also told to love my pregnancy and I wanted to tell those people to stuff it. I don't have to cherish my baby's inability to communicate if I find it frustrating. I don't have to be fulfilled from close contact with his urine, vomit and fecal matter. I don't need to love the fact he needs loads of help to pass his own gas and will cry until he does. I can love him without finding all that stuff wonderful, quite easily.
I have memories of things my mom did for us as kids: trips to the park, Friday movie and pizza night, day trips to the white sands beach. I'm going to wait till Jack's four or so to take him to bigger things like the zoo or an amusement park. It doesn't seem worthwhile if he's not going to remember it and the Dude and I will be faced with his dirty diapers and crying in public places for apparently no reason. But once he's old enough, I can't wait. And Toronto has so much. There's High Park, Riverdale Farm, Toronto Zoo, Canada's Wonderland, Ontario Science Centre, Centre Island, and also an aquarium is coming to town.
Growing up in a much smaller city, my mom still found ways to make life interesting. One day she picked us up from daycare and drove past our neighbourhood, insisting the car was driving itself. The car took us to pizza and a movie. Sometimes we'd go for drives and get a little lost just for fun. We hit the sugar bush some springs. She took us to Toronto once for a Blue Jays game. Unfortunately some whacko punched her in the jaw in the lobby of our hotel and the manager came out, repeatedly offered to sue the guy and sent us up a gift basket. She probably should have sued him. I think she had jaw issues after that.
I just had a sip of the Nutella latte. Not too shabby.
I guess I'm basically saying I'm very invested in Jack's childhood. I have all the patience and joy in the world when it comes to hanging out with kids. Love 'em. Love Jack too. But I think I'll die with love when he's a kid himself. He's already a really great baby. I'm excited to see what sort of child and person he'll be.