As of right now this very minute I have pretty much decided that I don't want any more kids. One is enough, thanks. But then I see this video of a sixth grader doing the most amazing cover of Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi" and I think, "Now that boy's parents need to crank out more kids because holy shit and wow they maybe could have their own little musical genius factory." Of course, Gavin could also turn out to be a musical or mathematical or literary or athletic prodigy and then I might kick myself for not having more kids. Then again, for all I know the sixth grade "Paparazzi"-playing wunderkind is an only child and his talent is beget from the abject loneliness he felt -- and still feels! -- all throughout his childhood and had his parents given him siblings he would just be another average 12-year-old collecting Pokemon cards (do kids even still do that?) and playing Wii tennis. Basically I have to be able to see into the future to properly make a decision about having another child, but failing that a sixth grade boy singing the hell out of "Paparazzi" will have to do. Also, it is important to base decisions regarding whether or not to bring more children into this world on a YouTube video of a boy you now have a "mom crush" on and the competing narratives you have created about his life based on no evidence whatsoever.
When Stacy came home from work today I asked her how her day was and she responded, "I had a child today at school poke me in the nipple and I told him, 'I don't like that, don't touch me,' so then he grabbed my butt." The boy was in Kindergarten and he also touched her crotch with his face it turns out when he ran up and gave her a hug at the start of class. I'm pretty sure that's first, second, and third base. She demonstrated how this boy managed to get all up in her business, as the kids say, and it seems likely that it was all unintentional. Just an excitable little boy who can't keep his hands to himself. I really hope that none of Gavin's teachers ever come home from work to tell their partners that he pawed them during class.
Speaking of things I hope my son never does in school, a friend of mine who teaches high school posted on Facebook today that one of his students shit his pants today after he'd eaten "two whole cakes and a box of Cheez Its" the night before. Please God don't let this ever be my son, either.
Speaking of shit (I am on a roll with the swears), my friend Claire pointed me toward "Shit My Kids Ruined", a blog that chronicles children's destructive tendencies and willful disregard for the belongings of others. The eviscerated giant banana reminded me very much of the giant stuffed bear my sister and I ruined as kids. The three poster bed is pretty great, too. In any case, I have no doubt that I will have stuff to submit to his site and, oddly, knowing that this site exists makes me dread the destruction just a little bit less.
But enough about things that aren't directly about my wonderful, adorable son. In all honesty he was kind of crabby all day. Or not crabby so much as tired. He woke up this morning at 5:30 (confidential to Gavin: Dude, WTF?) so his first nap was super early and he just seemed really tired all day. A lot of thumb sucking. I had to take him with me to an appointment and he fell asleep on the way there. But once we arrived he was smiling and happy. He was so good. I packed a big backpack full of everything I could think of to amuse him thinking that unpacking it would be a way to keep him occupied in itself. I am really lucky I have such a good baby. I was very surprised that he didn't fall asleep on the way home. But then he didn't take a great afternoon nap, either, once we got home. He went to sleep at about 7 tonight He went to bed at 6:30 when Stacy put him down. A lot of crying and screaming (that's his newest thing. Screaming. Awesome) until I went in and soothed him again. Stacy said she felt sad like Gavin went to bed mad at her. I assured her this was not the case. When he sees her tomorrow he's going to smile that big toothy grin and he's going to cry when she leaves for work, as he always does.
But we're going to do something fun tomorrow (maybe back to Romp and Stomp because the weather report is predicting more rain) that will hopefully tire him out. I already know that whatever we do it will tire me out. I am exhausted. The more mobile Gavin gets the more work it is to stay home with him. Not that I want it any other way. It would be tragic if he never learned to walk. I just am in no hurry for him to walk at 10 months. As a mom at Romp and Stomp said yesterday, "Walking 10-month-olds are scary because they just don't have any sense." Gavin's modus operandi is, after all, "Lead with your face." Did I mention he split his lip again today? His face and the floor need some time apart, I think. It's not a healthy relationship.
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