For giggles, written in the perspective of my18-month old. If you don’t like kids or you only want to read about living abroad, this post is not for you!
Baby’s Log: Nearing Month 18. Life in this world is a routine, but mostly fun. The day begins with either Dada (think that’s his name) or Mommy (love her!) coming in to hear my delightful morning scream, which they don’t seem to enjoy for some strange reason. And that’s if they haven’t spent the night sleeping next to me. I know this seems selfish, but I’m also keeping an eye on them while they sleep to make sure that they are ok too. I am nothing if not thoughtful. Then they dress me, which I protest for a bit, just to show them who’s boss. Then müsli, which I insist upon feeding myself very messily. After all that, and a nice sippy cup of water that I MUST drink on someone’s lap while I pinch their necks, I get to watch some cartoons. I don’t actually enjoy tv, but I really like hitting it to get some attention. And now that they’ve realized that I just don’t dig it, they do some fun animal game on this large phone thing. I like this thing, I’m quite certain it’s mine and that I don’t have to share it with anyone, or hand it over when asked. Plus it has taught me to make weird noises and the word pig. I like to say PIIIIIG and then oink, especially at older women at the grocery store who tell me I’m a cute boy even though I’m wearing sparkly pink shoes and coat. Whatevs. After a very boring hour of entertaining myself because I don’t want Mommy to play with me, but I also don’t want her to do anything other than watch me play (I really want her to relax too), Mommy decides to take a shower. I could give her some space and privacy but I really enjoy draping myself over the bath tub with my arms and head down letting the water soak my clothes and flood the floor. Sometimes she pulls me in and then I’m really happy; I love taking a nap on Mommy’s shoulder during shower time, and bonus, she can’t do anything in there besides hold me! After that, we get dressed to go outside. I’m excited by this because I never know where we will go! For about twenty minutes, Mommy runs around collecting sippy cups and snacks (sometimes I take one of the sippy cups out just to mess with her) and then finally, we go outside. I like being outside unless it’s really sunny or windy. I hate the wind and will stagger cry loudly at random intervals until it’s over; it’s important to me to express my opinions. Sometimes we go to a play group, sometimes the park, sometimes shopping, sometimes to a breakfast buffet. I enjoy all of these things for a while until suddenly, I hate it, I hate everything, and I will throw my juice at anyone in my near vicinity (usually mommy). Then Mommy looks sweaty and shaky, and she takes me home where I can take a nice nap with a bottle of milk, while she lays next to me (where she belongs!) reading some thing. And then nap time is over, and I announce my excitement to continue the day by giggling loudly until I’m picked up. If I don’t get picked up at any point during the day despite my directness, I will shriek as if someone is murdering me. For the remainder of the day, we do various things after lunch like: music class (love it!), playgroup, the park, shopping, play date or have an epic dance party. Mommy starts to look haggard by this point, especially when she tries to clean and I undo everything she does just for fun. She doesn’t laugh about it though, so I kiss her to make up for whatever she seems “upset” about. (I’m quite good at this trick, and I use it with Dada whenever he gets grumpy about me taking off his glasses and throwing them). Then when she’s cooking, I crawl between her legs and try to get into things I shouldn’t just to keep her on her toes. Then while dinner is on the stove, I might (I’ve only done it twice because it’s really hard to escape Mommy’s gaze) sneak into the kitchen- while Mommy picks out a book to read, and turn off the stove. I have no idea why this is so fun, but it usually elicits some reaction from her. When that situation has calmed down a bit, we read a book while listening to classical music. I’m only half interested in this because I’m getting tired and hungry. So this is what Mommy calls “The Terrible Time” where I scream off and on for a half an hour. Say what you want about it, but I feel like screaming is extremely therapeutic before dinner. The Dada’s home. I like that for all of 15 minutes and then I remember that he clips my nails, gives me a bath and puts me in my schlafsack, and I don’t like him again. We eat dinner together, which is loads of fun because I get to fling food around. I see that I have my own plate of food, but I’m quite certain that Mommy’s is better than whatever she gave me. Therefore, I will not be content unless I eat her food. After this, Dada and Mommy spend a lot of time cleaning me and the floor. I try to run away but they always catch me. SO unfair. Then we dance, read another book and when Dada walks off, I know it’s bath time. I do NOT want to take a bath, so I jump on Mommy and wrap myself around her head to the point where she might have difficulty breathing. While in this position, Dada and I have a conversation about bathing. He makes some compelling arguments and then I agree to go. After a few moments in the bath, I remember that I LOVE baths. When it’s time to get out, I’m rather grumpy about it and try to kick Dada. After I’m all ready for bed, I see Mommy coming down the hall with a glowing, mesmerizing bottle of warm, delicious milk. To make her hurry up, I say mommy, Mommy, MOMMY! This usually works. And then I lounge against her, drinking my milk when sleep takes me to pleasant dreams about fountains of milk and rainbows. You know, typical baby dreams. But just to make sure they don’t forget me, I wake once or twice at unbearable hours. —————————————————————————————————————-
That’s my life right now. I hope this made you laugh a bit and wasn’t too tedious. Before I had this delightful child who definitely marches to the beat of her own drum, I never thought seriously about a Stay-At-Home-Mom’s routine or life. Now that I’m living it, I have so much respect for all Moms. It’s hard work, and although sometimes it seems harder doing it in another language and in another country that doesn’t always feel like home, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’ll enjoy it while it lasts! Thanks for reading and sorry if this put any of you off. Until next time,