Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Lies I Tell Myself Daily


Ward won't be able to reach that. If you watch the evolution of a new parent's home over time, you will observe a sloppy and desperate migration of their breakables and electronics to higher and higher shelves/tables/counters as their child grows taller. My house is no exception to this, because of a baby named Ward who refuses to leave my figurines and vases alone. All of the decor items that I once painstakingly arranged on my bookcases and hutches to look like a Pottery Barn catalog are now just stacked on top of the fridge while every surface under three feet is bare, save for the new scratches from my little dude's enthusiasm for grinding rocks on furniture.  

I bet I can do this while I am holding him. You are walking around with your child on your hip when you suddenly need to do something that takes considerable strength and/or coordination. This is not a new dilemma in the history of man: Do I put my baby down and have him instantly throw a fit while wrapping him arms around my legs OR do I just try to do this while I'm holding him? Whether it be putting on mascara or draining a boiling pot of spaghetti noodles, you probably could do it while holding them (if the stars are aligned and they stay perfectly still), but be prepared to explain yourself during a possible trip to the ER.

I better bring this whole bag of animal cookies on our walk because Ward likes them so much. Surely I am not the only person who has found themselves sitting on a bench at the park and eating handfuls of snacks like a medieval troll feasting on mutton scraps. Right?

He's not about to put that in his mouth. There's no way he is going to put that in his mouth. It doesn't even smell good. He's even making a disgusted face as he plays with it. No way that he'd be weird enough to put something that even grosses him out into his own mouth.


He won't figure out how to open that.  He knows how to work buttons, zippers, and pop-tops, but Ward has yet to figure out how to unscrew something. And I'm sure that the day he does figure it out, we'll have to either call the landlord or an ambulance before I figure out he has figured it out.

He's not crying, so he's probably fine. I'll just check my email really quick.  Every parents knows that feeling when you realize that you haven't heard the crinkle of your baby's diaper in a while, which means that they have been otherwise occupied by something for more than four minutes, which means it is not something they usually do, which means it is something they are not supposed to do, which means that it is either something messy or life-threatening. GO FIND YOUR BABY HURRY.

    3 comments:

    1. ahem. yep. I didn't think my lil guy knew how to open a travel size container of hand sanitizer...he did. Luckily, I was right next to him so he ONLY drank a teaspoon. It's ONLY 80 proof alcohol. (I say this because I was horrified and called poison control and yes, he was a little intoxicated, but the ER staff was really chill, "he would have had to drink 3 bottles of that for it to be serious...we'll just feed him some treats and keep him hydrated.) $350 later, a worthless ER visit...

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    2. Another lie you tell yourself....no one will know that you feed your baby London gin to get him to sleep. Please tell me that box is from Costco...

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    3. Don't worry, we got a bunch of boxes from behind the liquor store for our move to Vegas. They're perfect because they're so sturdy!

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