What a difference a decade makes! Well, seven years but she is fond of alliteration.
This morning (just to torture her a really special way), the completely ridiculous things the Matron did as a new, overly anxious mother, came back to visit her.
Look at me! Look at me, they screeched! What WERE you thinking?!
Look at me! Look at me, they screeched! What WERE you thinking?!
* When Stryker was three months old and the Matron noticed ugly yellow snot oozing from his nose, her first INSTINCT was to call 911.
* The Matron and her husband interviewed not one but four pediatricians before they found the right 'fit.' In retrospect, she realized this sainted man was the only one who would tolerate them.
* The Matron visited no less than 16 schools when deciding upon kindergarten for Stryker.
* She also-- for some reason she can't now recall--required several private audiences with the school principal to discuss her offspring.
* She followed the school bus in her van. More than once.
* She pumped breast milk and made baby food from scratch using only organic, locally grown ingredients because by God, that child was not only going to be healthy he was going to be PC too.
* She carried a baby monitor on her person at all times when the tots were sleeping, lest one of them breathe oddly.
* She read all those big parenting book Bibles.
Fast forward 14 years.
Merrick (who hasn't been to school since Thursday): "Mama. I have a tummy ache. I still don't feel well enough to go to school"
Matron (in sunny optimistic tone!): "People go to school with tummy aches all the time! You have to have a fever over 100 or be vomiting to stay home."
He also has never had a pediatrician. The Matron never shopped for schools for Merrick, but put him in the same elementary school as the older children the SECOND she could so she could experience the glorious, orgasm-like convenience of all children at the same school for ONE year. Yes, that was orgasm-like. Orgasm-like-ish. She waves good-bye to all school buses and happily closes the door. When Merrick was still nursing, if the Matronly pumps weren't around, he drank formula -- and as soon as he was old enough, he just ate whatever the rest were eating, diced. Yesterday, she threw the intercom down the basement stairs in a fit of rage ("WE ARE ALL WAY TOO CONNECTED" ) and a stiff chardonnay has replaced the parenting books.
He also has never had a pediatrician. The Matron never shopped for schools for Merrick, but put him in the same elementary school as the older children the SECOND she could so she could experience the glorious, orgasm-like convenience of all children at the same school for ONE year. Yes, that was orgasm-like. Orgasm-like-ish. She waves good-bye to all school buses and happily closes the door. When Merrick was still nursing, if the Matronly pumps weren't around, he drank formula -- and as soon as he was old enough, he just ate whatever the rest were eating, diced. Yesterday, she threw the intercom down the basement stairs in a fit of rage ("WE ARE ALL WAY TOO CONNECTED" ) and a stiff chardonnay has replaced the parenting books.
Stryker: "Mom, you are a complete control freak."
da-da-dum. Da-da-dum.
Stryker: "Mom? How come you're not getting mad at me?"
Matron: "Because I am. A complete control freak. What's to get angry about?"
Now please excuse her while she gets busy doing something about winter, which she has decided needs to be middling event this year.
9 comments:
HI Mary,
So funny - Haven't read your blog for a bit - wanted to also say what a beautiful picture tho it's probably been up for a while!
I once heard a comedian say that you take professional photo shots each month with your first child, with your second child you fill photo albums with them doing every cute new step...with your third child. you hand them a crayon and tell them to draw a picture of themselves.
FireCat loves Matron. The end. :)
My mom tells the same story using the diaper bag as illustration. First child: tricked out with diaper bag with all the conveniences. Third child: cloth diaper tucked in cardigan pocket, extra diaper pin in knitting bag, child under arm, go.
And yes, I was that third child.
It is funny, isn't it? I guess we all need that learning curve. So many of the things Larry and I worried about with the first 3 barely merit a shoulder-shrug with the last 3. And really, I do feel those younger ones have a better set of parents (older, yes; more tired, yes; but still better).
I was a bit like you until I caught my eight-month-old, face completely black, licking to sole of a shoe. We both survived!
That's hysterical - I was a complete control freak with my first child, too. Now my 3rd one lives in a drawer somewhere and pretty much takes care of himself. :)
Being the oldest of 5 I was never too terribly concerned about gers and safety. While I managed to be a step above my mom's philosophy of "If you can drag a chair to the counter and reach the peanut butter, you can make your own lunch." I alsways kept it in mind.
Good luck with that winter thing. I could use a nice calm, non-blizzard-filled winter.
LOL! I'm child #3. I know exactly what Merrick is experiencing. Also, get ready to say something like: "well of course there are very few baby photos of you because... you looked just like your other siblings." Just brace yourself for that revelation and the turmoil it will cause poor Merrick!
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