Monday, November 30, 2015

She Makes Naomi Campbell Look like Laura Ingalls

I recently read two posts over on  http://www.scarymommy.com one was called "Never Trust a Trick Baby" and the other one was called "I Gave Birth To a Feral Child".

They not only had me laughing out loud but I now understand why I'm completely insane.
I've scored on both accounts and I'm just waiting for "My Little Princes makes Naomi Campbell look like Laura Ingalls"

See, Big Red was my trick baby.  She came home and promptly slept through the night - And by all night I mean 12 hours.  The kid slept from 8PM to 8AM at 4 WEEKS OLD!  As an infant she would rather sit in her bouncy seat and watch the activity instead of being held.  She would literally cry if you held her too much.  She started putting herself to bed at 8PM when she was just 2 years old and still cant stay up much later than 10PM at almost 13 years old.  She ate anything I fed her and it only took a look to stop bad behavior or a melt down.   She was the perfect baby by all standards.  She made me look good.

Unlike most 1st time parents I knew the trap...make me think I had this parenting thing under control and promptly give birth to the spawn of satan.  I didn't fall for her trickery....it took me 8 years to be coerced into the spawn of satan  my feral child.

I say coerced because in those 8 years I met and married D who didn't have his own children.  He was upfront about wanting at least one of his own and I agreed to just one more.  Somewhere along the line I actually thought I had this shit show of parenting under control.

Then I had the feral child.  (If you've read the story above you know what I mean.)  Boy terrorist isn't freal in the sense that he barks or walks on all fours, but to paraphrase the article he's more  related to Mowgli from the jungle book.  He's wild, he goes one thousand miles a minute.  Before he could crawl he was climbing the stairs.  Before he could walk he was climbing on the counters.  He's talked non stop since he exited the womb. Boy Terrorist is the by far the wildest of the bunch, but he is also most sensitive child.  A mean look will reduce him to tears just as quickly as an exciting tv commercial will send him into hysterics.  He will do anything for and to protect his sisters.
It's like living with a unmediated bi-polar midget on a sugar high and some days it is pure hell.  Other days he makes my heart melt (until he karate chops the dog and sprays shaving cream all over the room...then we're back to hell.)



Then came the tiny surprise.  She has held true to both of her nick names (The surprise & Tiny Terrorist).
She is tiny, not just because she is the baby, but she's also small for her size. That's where tiny ends though...there is absolutely nothing tiny about her personality. She runs the show.  We're all still under her spell (for the most part) 3 years later and I'm pretty sure this is the way it's gonna go for the next 18 at least.

Her daddy thinks she can do no wrong, I see so much of myself in her I just have to laugh, her brother would literal lay down his life for her and her sister thinks shes a live talking baby doll.  She does absolutely what she wants to and takes no prisoners while doing it.  She has no fear of telling us straight up "Nope, not doing that", "Cause I don't want to" and "Leave me LONE!"
She steals toys and candy from Boy Terrorist CONSTANTLY and he still can't tell her no when she asks him sweetly for just one bite of his candy only to stuff the whole thing in her mouth while smiling at him.
Then there are her epic meltdowns and tantrums.  She literally makes Naomi Campbell look like Laura Ingalls from little house on the prarie.  She will throw what ever is in reach and fling herself on the floor screaming.  With all of our kids we let them throw their tantrum ,but put them in their room to do it.  They usually last 5-20 minutes; maybe 30 on  good day.  Not tiny terrorist - she's been timed at over an hour and a half.


I tell you all of this because I'm pretty convinced that I'm certifiably crazy, but I also know at least two other moms are as well.  They felt so bat-shit crazy that theyalso wrote stories.

And I've got them all beat....I've got the fucking trifecta of crazy.  Complete with Naomi Campbell peeing her pants in the corner cause she doesn't like the big potty only the tiny green one.
I already feel better about the obscenities I screamed over thanksgiving break.