Sh*t My Son Ruined

Nothing of note – yet, but, there have been some close calls…

Those close calls went straight out the window last month. This is the part – I guess – where it gets worse. Now that my son has gained coördination and a new-found life on his two feet, he’s a little tornado. He’s broken two mixing bowls, a bottle of my favorite syrup, a mug, he’s ripped my Game Informers (that I like to collect) in half, two of my video games and a bunch of other CDs. Sounds awful, right? Well, it may be just those things but, as I see it, this is the calm before the storm. The CD’s he ruined were OS CD’s and it’s hell getting those back.

What exactly can be “out of reach” for a 17-month-old who is 34-inches tall? By the time he’s 2, I’ll have to put all of my things in the closet and never open that closet again. I never seen a child grow so fast as he is; it has to be that damned milk he craves every waking moment. 

The good thing is that he doesn’t touch my rig (anymore – I’ll get to that later) or my laptop. Well, he’ll touch the laptop if it’s on and I’m using it. MyXbox 360 is no longer plugged in, so he’s lost his interest in that, and I put myGuitar Heroguitar away so he doesn’t get the urge to step all over it. I’m assuming the coins jammed in the CD disk tray and the crayons smashed in the hinges of the bedroom door, comes later, yes? Oh man I hope not!

I visited the site  “Sh*t My Kids Ruined once and that was the last time I was on there; which was before my son was thought of. I laughed and shook my head in pity, all the while saying to myself, “That’ll never be me…” Au Contraire, Asilee it is you, and there will be more you in the coming years.

I don’t think I’m ready. I cannot begin to see what the future may hold with my little hell raiser. As I look around my apartment wondering what could he possibly destroy and I don’t see anything. Maybe I’m looking at the wrong things. I’m looking at gadgets and gizmos when I should looking at bags of flour, sugar and canned goods that can one day become airborne.

The close calls I mentioned? Yea, about those. Uh, I almost lost my second child (was once my only child but now he’s the step-child people awkwardly gawk at at family reunions). My son (the 34-inch tornado) was about to make history. He was going to go down in my history book as the first and only person I know that could destroy $800-$1000 worth of parts. The second-child I speak of is my beloved gaming rig/means of work and school. When he deliberately walked up to my desk with my glass of water I sat on my kitchen counter and poured it on my desk, my computer’s life and all the work and money I put in to it flashed before my eyes.

This cup of water at the time was supposedly out of his reach and out of mind. I get distracted for two-seconds (that’s all it takes – I’m a believer) for sugar to turn to shit. As the water trickled and eased its way closer and closer to the end of my Step-child, all I could think of was, “You jinxed yourself. That’s what your ass get for laughing at those poor parents on that website”. I cursed at Karma while it eased closer and closer to my rig and found its resting place on the top of my rig (shudders). I immediately (not proud of this but it was the closest thing near-by) grabbed my sons shirt and got it off of him in 2 seconds flat and sopped up all the water that I could. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Absolutely. Nothing. Mattered.

Luckily, everything turned out fine. The water didn’t touch anything important and my computer lived to see another day. After I cleaned up all the water, I turned and looked at my son who was now sitting on the floor playing with his cars and said, “My computer, my electronics – period, will survive your childhood”. He didn’t even look up at me, probably because I said it in my head.

The other close call was when he spilled another karma filled cup of water near my Xbox. It was less dramatic since I slightly don’t care about that thing. I know you’re probably thinking, “Where are all these cups of water spawning from?” well, I like to drink water to stay hydrated because I tend to not eat because of how busy and tiring my life is so the least I can do is stay hydrated.

Story of my life.

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He’s Still Not Talking and it’s Week 74

He’ll be 17 months on the 14th and I’m a bit worried about my son’s speech development. Could he be a late bloomer and I’m over-reacting? He understands “No!”, “Can I have that?”, “Do you want some juice/milk?”, “Are you hungry?”, and “Come on, Adam.”, “Lay down, it’s time to go to sleep”. He says, “Ma-ma“, and “Bye-bye” but that’s it.

I talk to him like I’m talking to an adult; I mean, he is a little person. I don’t do the baby talk to him and I try to let family members know that they shouldn’t do it either. I read to him and sometimes if my confidence will allow, I sing to him.

My goofy, goofy son.

Dis regard the foot.

He crawled late, walked late, but in other aspects he flourished. He gave up the binky on his own, he was drinking from straws at 7 months as well as drinking from cups (even the non-sippy ones). He wouldn’t use the walker his great-great-great Aunt got him at all – he’d just sit there and look around the room. He hated that thing. He catches on pretty quick and sometimes, all it takes is one time and he’ll get it, I’m just concerned that maybe he’s a bit delayed. It didn’t help that his doctor put in my head that “according to the milestones for a child his age, he shouldn’t be as delayed as he is”. I’m all about those milestones and when a child is supposed to reach them. I often forget that the child will reach those milestones on their own and begin to overreact; I’m really hoping this is one of those times.

Could my concern for his speech be unwarranted? Should I wait until after he’s 18 months to see if anything changes? I understand children talk at different rates but doing Google searches has put me on the edge and now I’m totally worried from all the stories I’ve been reading about mothers who had late talkers. I did read that bigger baby boys tend to develop a bit slower than children that’s not in the 93 percentile (like my son is); they tend to do a lot of things a bit slower than their counterparts. That almost put me at ease considering all the milestones he didn’t hit until he was way past the target but it’s not enough.

I should be happy, right? He’s not talking my ear off and asking a million questions – telling me “no!” every time he exhale, but I want him to at least say more than the two words he’s saying now. Maybe I should just sit and wait until after Christmas, and see if he decides to “use his words” (I tell him this every day – jokingly) then and maybe I’ll calm down and worry about more pressing matters, like potty-training.

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