I am pleased to say that I have never found myself in the midst of a girl-on-girl (or girl-on-boy for that matter) fist fight. The idea was completely foreign to me until junior high, when I witnessed my first hair-pulling, cat-scratching, bee-ach-calling girly-fight between two newcomers to my ultra-preppy more-like-a-private-school public school. I spent the entirety of my high school years in the absence of such public scorn. I mean, NO ONE fought. Not even the hormone-raging gents. At least, not while I was standing there.
I managed to emerge from my behavioral school social worker position unscathed. In a place where fighting was daily. No, hourly. Kids against kids, kids against staff. Flying punches, flying chairs, flying feces. No joke. In a place where assault was the norm, I managed to avoid, or at least run like a chicken away from certain bodily harm. Ode to Garfield Park Academy. How I fear thee. How I miss thee in some strange, oddly charmed way.
I lived in the city. Baltimore City. Had a few rocks thrown at me while I was pushing Baby Milo in his stroller. The rocks missed us, and I can still say with certain honesty that it was my favorite place to live. Bodymore, Murderland.
But….
Becoming a Mommy has lowered my defenses. The chubby cheeks, the cherub-like faces, they are so enchanting they weaken the senses. My reaction time is crap. Those rosy cheeks and drooly chins are so enticing, they trick me into a false sense of safety. Drunk on baby-smell, I am a walking target for his wrath.
Oliver. My sweet, easygoing little fat-cube. The ferocity with which he feels life right now is frightening. In the bathtub, he is a maniac. Nearly impossible to contain, barely allowing me to prevent him from drowning. He flaps his arms frantically like a trapped sparrow while kicking and writhing and screeching in a noise I can only imagine is the exact sound a pterodactyl once made. And he is happy. Eye-gouging-ly happy. Love is acted out through a deep gaze, a piercing look that lasts just… a… little… too… long…. OOOOOUUUUUCHH!
@$#&%^$%$^*&^%#@@$%!!!! His fist closes like a vice around the skin on my cheek, or neck, or ear, or hair, even my lower lip sometimes. LIKE A VICE! It takes the jaws of life to extract his tiny, fat inhumanly strong grip from my flesh while trying to save a scrap of skin to cover the rest of my face. Aw, he is so sweet at this age.
But really, he is.
Two-tooth Tuesday
Gooey Gumdrop
What’s that you say? You like the bags under my eyes? Why thank you! I’ve been working on these puppies ALL night.
Just sayin’, beware all ye pacifists. Watch out for the babes.
P.s. Milo, not to be outdone by his prehistoric attack-brother, is now sleeping in a toddler bed and saying stuff like, “Shhhh… I hear somethin’. There’s a bear in the heater.”
Ha ha ha! I can relate 100% to the hair pulling, eye grabbing, collarbone pinching, middle of the night kicking bruises that have graced my body (that was once upon a time my own) for the past several months! Isn’t it the best! Milo looks so much like Andrew in that last picture and Oliver is just too cute for words!
i’ll make sure i clear the heater of the bears when we transition elsa. that made me laugh out loud!
Dearest Mama Lauren,
Sounds like you have Maurice Sendak’s reverse syndrome of ‘Outside Over There’ to “Inside Over Here’. What a little munchkin grabbing his mommy’s face, lovingly forever! How cute and so endearing to see. All moms remember how those strangle-holds felt. I’m glad you are experiencing them!
That new baby looks like a little lauren teemer clone
Milo looks sooo beautiful with his necklace on! Oh! Look at Baby Oliver’s teeth! He can talk now!
Love love LOVE this! GREAT pics. I had a dream last night that you had another baby. Another boy! Hmmmm. . .
Oh lordy, Mary! Maybe those are just your pregnancy-coming-to-an-end dreams! I’m convinced we will end up with 3 boys…. but not quite yet!
No, but there are bears in the heater. I heard them too.
You’re going to feel dumb after you have the HVAC man come out for annual maintenance and he says…”Everything looks good, besides one small problem…I found an actual bear in your heater, and I had to remove it. I’m not sure how it fit in there, but it did. He almost bit my head off, but I managed to put him in a cage and get him out to my truck. Try not to leave jars of honey by the heater next time.”
i didn’t notice the bags, just how beautiful you are!!
those pics of you ouching/smiling are CLASSIC.
framers 🙂