Total Anihilation

It seems to me that parenthood is constantly filled with humbling experiences. That as soon as you are light on your feet and feeling proud of your excellent parenting, something comes along to knock you back down to size. We were doing good, Declan started crawling early, which has its own difficulties, but I was really proud at how well he was thriving. Declan opened up and became the smiley, happy baby I was worried would never come, and I was at least getting okay rest...

Then he got his teeth, and then the dreaded ear infection. Now, 10 days after we started antibiotics, Declan is still pulling at his ear, is almost inconsolable throughout the day, and he woke up every two hours last night. To add insult to injury, he was like this most of the week while Rich was in New Jersey, and Rich is traveling this week too. I've certainly been knocked back down a few notches.

I wonder if everyone feels so helpless or if it's just me. I still feel like a kid, and some days I just want it get easier. Then it does, but that's fleeting too. I did get some wisdom from watching Kung Fu Panda last night. No matter what you want it to be, a peach tree will always be a peach tree. Brilliant, right? Declan will always be Declan. Not the kid in my perfect world, not my friend's baby who sleeps, and smiles, and sits on laps, not the baby who can already wave bye-bye at eight months. Declan will always be the baby that crawls all over the story lady at the library. He'll always be the baby who wants mommy ALL the time. He'll always be the baby who sees an electrical cord 10 feet away and zooms straight for it and hates the stroller and the car seat and the playpen. He's a peach, not an orange. And with this timeless Disney wisdom, I must conclude that there are wonderful things about a peach. And then the cycle starts over again because I'm starting to feel proud. Crap. Something's going to erupt any second now.

On another note, there was a baby, for privacy reasons, we'll say she is a rhubarb, not a peach, who walked around to every kid at story time and took their toys. She'd take a toy and walk around with it, and eventually drop it and move on. And her mom didn't intervene until little Rhubarb, happily gulping on some milk from a sippy cup, took the cup and sheepishly gave it back to its original owner. Meanwhile, I practically had to pry Declan's death grip off of the story lady. It was like a moth to a flame. He saw her white hair and granny spectacles and fell in love. Maybe he'll like older women when he grows up. Oh, and by the way, that little girl, her name was actually Rhubarb. She had on turquoise, suede, American Indian style boots. Rhubarb. Do you think her mom would hate it if little Rhubarb decided she wanted to be called Barbie and dye her hair platinum?