My Kid is Better than Your Kid

BLOG ANGRY!!

Just kidding. Well, not really. I guess what I am trying to say is that I am blogging while experiencing some raw emotion here, and I will try my hardest to not channel it so severely that you never want to read again because I am whiny and emotional.

But the thing is I am whiny and emotional, so why are you reading this again?

So, my almost 13 month old hardly stands alone. Why stand when you can crawl at rocket speed to get to your toys (like, you know, outlets and cords and stuff.)? Why take the time to learn to move in a new way when you already go fast enough doing your crawling thing? Mommy and Daddy will pick me up at moments notice (guilty, yes, I know), so why waste the time?

Waste the time baby, please learn, because Mommy is going crazy waiting for you to take steps, or at least stand more than 10 seconds at a time! I see nine month old babies running around, and I am just like: "Are you serious right now?" Then shove it off with the typical thought: "Oh, come on. I don't want to be chasing that baby around all the time. He can take his time." Then the next minute I am at his side screaming and jumping around like a Russian ballet coach "Step! Step now! Now! Again! AGAIN!"

OK, so I don't scream. But I do say some things encouragingly at a normal volume.

Going to story time at the library or any other mother-baby event always has it's over achievers.

"My son Hamm walked at 9 months, and started writing cursive at 15 months."

"My daughter Sheila started memorizing and reciting the U.S. presidents at 21 months."

"My twins started their own secret language at 2 months."

"My son started creating his own clone at 17 months."

"My daughter has already created a car that runs on her dirty diapers. It doesn't have very good mileage but it's better than gasoline! You know, gotta be eco-friendly..."

And so it goes.

I try not to be the bitter mom who is secretly wishing their child will show some hidden talent that makes them a viral hit then suddenly, you are all millionaires. I really do try. I only attempted to get Isaac to climb to the ceiling using nothing but his hands and feet twice yesterday.

But I guess, everyone needs to accept their child's accomplishments one at a time, no matter how far apart or close together they are. Whether they walk at 20 months, talk at 15 months, or start gymnastics at 6 months. We love them, right? :)

Cold, maybe?

OH, THE SNOT!

Seriously. Gross, son. I just saw a huge yellow drop of snot get wiped onto his forehead while I tried changing the poor thing's diaper. I think Isaac might be getting a cold. Might being the main word here.

He goes through these spells of allergies occasionally, and every time it still makes my heart race, and I have the same conversation on the phone with the poor on-call pediatrician at three thirty in the morning.

"Hello, is this Quinlyn Grush?"

"Yes, my name is Quinlyn. And my son is hacking up snot and screaming and holding his breath and he looks kind of pale and then if you put him into another light he looks red and if you hold him up against a window he turns pale again, and his temperature was 99.7 five minutes ago but an hour ago it was 99.4 so I would say that is a significant increase. And he makes this awful 'Eeeehhhhhhhhwheeee' sound when I put him back into the crib, and shakes his fists around and starts crying. But it sound more high pitched, but then gets all moany.  And I am pretty sure I saw him swallow the same air as this guy smoking about a week ago..."

"Ok. Now could you leave a message for the nurse stating what is the matter with your child?"

And so it goes. So I am sure tonight will be no different.

Catching Up...

WHERE HAVE I BEEN???

So I just realized that I made this blog a long, long time ago. It's funny because I just spent about $15 on a new blog, which I also planned on using (but knew I wouldn't) to blog in. So I guess I will catch everyone on up with my life thus far...

So Isaac turned the big ONE on February 28th. He missed leap year by about fifty one minutes. I wanted to hold him in, you know, make him special and have a leap year birthday, meaning he would be forever young as Rod Stewart would have wanted him to have been, but the OB's scalpel was a little bit more persuasive. 

So we had the fancy-smancy birthday soiree at my grandmother's house. (You would not believe how much she charged me to rent) and it went over extremely well. As well as it can go when the father of your child rips open a gift more excitably than the birthday boy, thus jamming his elbow into said birthday boy's face, ending in a fit of tears that lasted the rest of the two hours of the birthday party.

Lots of gifts were given, including diapers, wipes, books, toys, and one very special gift, a book of fairy tales written by my older sister. Did she tell anyone she was writing a one hundred or more page book? Nope.  It ain't no thang. She does what she wants!

But seriously, it put me in tears, making my guests feel seemingly more awkward than when Isaac, the birthday boy, was crying, and no one put me over their shoulder and patted my bum to make me feel better. Oh well, I did it to myself later.

So the cake was, shall I say, the best cake ever made. Me and my sister (the unknown author) made our attempt at making a Yo Gabba Gabba cake. And let me tell you, I have never seen such artistry. 


And being the wonderful mother I am, I have no pictures documenting this party. So when I tell Isaac about it when he is older, there will be included a special appearance of Justin Bieber, a few ponies given out, and of course only the finest catering known to man. 

But, I do have some beautiful pictures of my sweet baby on Valentines day.

And my two babies' reaction to what we call "snow" in South Carolina.