Sunday, August 24, 2008

Sunday Scribblings: How I Met My...

...match? ...demise? ...maker? Those are the three words swirling around my head after reading Sunday Scribblings' prompt this week. As I'm still here, it's safe to say I've not yet met my demise. And although I believe I have felt God's presence at various times, I've not been formally introduced thus far. Onward, then to how I met my match.

It was a Monday. Of course, it would have to be when it comes to him. Monday, the hardest day of the week for most of us. To make matters worse, it was April 15. Yeah, it was Tax Day in these here United States, the deadline we have to make our amends with the federal and state government. Frankly, it's likely the worst day of the calendar year for many of us.

So, take the worst day of the week and combine it with the worst day of the year and what have you got? The day of Youngest's birth. Having labored long and hard and shown, as in previous birthings, no inclination to do things on my own, I was finally wheeled in to an operating room. And, while, yes, thankfully, blessedly, he was eventually pulled out all healthy, it was a struggle.

I should have known it then, when the drugs stopped working and there was nothing they could do to stop the pain, but they still had to get him out of me and then tie my tubes off for good measure. ['Cause, good God people, we don't want me going through all that again.]

Or perhaps I should have known when they did take him out, only to have him pee on not one nurse, not two nurses, but two nurses and a doctor.

Or perhaps I should have known when he only wanted to be held or touched for the next three months. And held and touched only by me. Anyone else, and there would be non-stop screaming, on his part and on the part of whomever was holding him.

Or perhaps I should have known when he refused to have anything to do with Pete. For more than a year.

Or perhaps I should have known when he refused any comfort such as a pacifier (which wasn't me) or a ride in the car (which only provoked screaming) or being rocked (which usually translated into puking).

Or perhaps I should have known when he became a stress puker, puking his was through situations he didn't like, whether he was two or whether he was four or whether he was five and starting kindergarten.

Or perhaps I should have known when it was always "his way or the highway (to hell)."

I've met my match, all right. I'd like to believe I still have the advantage of, if nothing else, height and age, but I think that's all that's in my favor nowadays. And he's only getting taller, while I stay in one place. And, soon enough, my age will be a disadvantage. Maybe not this year. Maybe not in three years. But fairly soon after that.

Be afraid, world. Be very afraid.My Match

11 comments:

missalister said...

Holy smoke! This was a fast and furious read that I devoured easily, almost giddily, and with not one single chance of puking, even over the mom content. To me this translates to “expert writer.” I flat-out love your style. And I hope to return to devour more going forward.

D... said...

I feel your pain, I surely do!

Jo Jo said...

Yeah, I'm all for the tube tying thing - the man's tubes :)

Happy Birthday! I won't say which one (hee hee).

All Rileyed Up said...

Your youngest and my youngest should never, ever meet.

DJPare said...

Ha ha! I wonder if my mom would write something similar about me...
Peeing on that many people? That's impressive!

MamaGeek said...

I knew it was serious when I read he was a stress puker. Good Lord, this parenting this is tough.

The shot, however, makes him look like one innocent, adorable lad. :)

anthonynorth said...

That was excellent. And I enjoyed the humour.

Bubba's Sis said...

I love this! He's a handsome one - try to keep that upper edge on him, tho! ;-)

mgirl said...

Never ever let him know you are scared!
I loved this, kids are so great. My daughter gave me my challenge and now she has a 1 1/2 year old daughter. I can't wait to see it all unfold for her now.

jenica said...

ah yes.

i miss you. i miss commenting at will to your posts. esp your tot's what the hell comment. yes, i missed that.

xoxo

Scribbit said...

I don't know--he looks pretty cute and innocent and sweet in that picture. Are you sure you're talking about the same kid? :)

Rides to Heaven on a Gyroscope

A couple of months ago, I saw a client I hadn't seen for a number of months. Like more than a dozen people have in the recent past, she ...