No, don’t eat the power cord.
No, sticking your fingers in the fan is a BAD idea.
Wandering down the stairs is also probably a bad idea.
Diving headfirst off the bed, that’s a bad idea.
Bothering Dot while she eats, also ill-advised, my son.
Don’t put your mouth on the toilet.
It’s probably not a good idea to stick your fingers in the wheels of dad’s office chair .
Let’s not climb through the dog door.
How about we don’t try to stand on things that move.
Maybe you shouldn’t let go of the things you’re holding on to, eh?
Basically, I save his life all day long. Even when it comes to things he’s supposedly got the hang of, like crawling, he’ll be trucking along and then randomly keel over. There have been more times than I care to admit where I swear I’ve been staring right at him and have no clue what happened, but he’s suddenly somehow maimed himself. It’s like he’s on a path to deliberately self destruct.
One time, I had him on the bed while I was quickly changing clothes. I put him smack dab in the middle, up by the head board, surrounded by pillows. He turned, fell, and landed his eyebrow straight on my hard plastic hair clip, the only other thing on the bed. Somehow he always finds all the things.
Also, he is now tall enough to stand and touch the top of the dining room table (whaaat??). Just putting that out there.
And two teeth have broken through, which works out because it just so happens that silicone kitchen utensils make excellent teething toys.
I’m in a weird space these days, simultaneously going through my house and getting rid of any and all dead weight, thoroughly organizing what’s left, while also going on shopping binges. I’ve bought several new clothes, invested in fresh new skin & hair care products, and if our house weren’t rented, I would do the same kind of makeover to my furniture and repaint the two red walls (that I’m so sick of) something that isn’t red. Most likely a sage green, or some other nice earth tone.
At first, I thought I might be going a little crazy with the sudden intense compulsion to buy. But actually, I’m not looking to buy just for the sake of acquisition. Now that I think back on it, the clothes and beauty supplies are all selected very consciously to fit a very specific minimalist, yet still youthful aesthetic that is both celebratory of and marks me settling into my new body and my new role as mom. I weigh less than I have most of my adult life, but certain parts sag that never did. I’m stronger, but older, and age and sleepless nights have taken their toll. So I choose only outfits that make me feel well-put together (and are breast-feeding friendly), with minimal time and effort. I invest in the health of my skin so I don’t have to do so much to make it presentable in public. It’s nice to feel like I’m taking care of myself.
But that’s probably not even the heart of it either. Maybe what’s really going on is that I’m trying to exercise a bit of control, reclaim some part of myself, when all other parts of my life have been ceded to the raising of my son. It makes no sense to want new furniture when he (or the dog) will likely find some way to destroy it, and yet, I’m still driven to maintain the semblance of a nice home, no matter how much of that energy is a total waste.
Good idea, bad idea. Maybe it makes little sense, but it does feel nice to reinvent and reinvest in myself.
At any rate, it gives me something to do while we spend so much time at the mall (where there’s ice cream and A/C), because gawd, it’s HOT in Chiang Mai.
Thing I Love About Cy Today: He loves to drink cold water from a real cup, and when he manages to get ahold of Dot’s rope (and isn’t trying to stick it in his mouth), he’ll try to throw it for her to chase, even though it’s way too big and unwieldy for him to lob it more than an inch or two.