Written on September 12, 2005 9:45 AM
From the day I found out I was pregnant I knew having a child was going to be a painful experience. Physically painful, I mean. I knew that pregnancy was going to bring back aches, front aches, swollen feet, piles, and even toothache. I knew that childbirth was going to be the mostly intensely painful thing I would ever endure. I even knew that breastfeeding, in the early days, was not going to be all sweetness and maternal bliss. I’d heard and read about the searing pains women experienced when their little ‘un would latch on.
What I didn’t know was the toll that being a toddler-mom puts on the body. Even though Benny loves to walk, like all toddlers, he also loves to be carried, swung about, and picked up to peer and grab at anything out of his reach. From the numerous days spent lugging, lifting, carrying, and whooping a 32 lb Benny into the sky, my arms have never been more toned. In fact, give me a few more months, I’ll be looking like my kickass Terminator heroine, Sarah Connor.
But it’s not just the heaving and the hauling. It’s also the punches, kicks and blows. Now, I’ll probably sound like one of those overprotective “head in the sand” mothers, but I do think it is fair to say that Benny is a pretty gentle and sensitive kid. He’s not a park time bully and rarely takes unprovoked swipes at anyone. Nevertheless, over the last few months, he’s doled out a few good blows. Most of them, of course, have been unintentional. And most of them, goddamnit, have landed on me.
The other night was a classic example. Benny sleeps on a futon next to us and our bed is just a little higher than his. Often, when he’s falling asleep, he wiggles about and puts his head on our bed. Two nights ago he was doing this little routine, as I lay next to him. Just as I was feeling dreamy from my own lullaby singing, all of a sudden, wham, I thought I’d been hit in the face with a frying pan. Turned out, of course, it was Benny’s head. A bunch of howling (from Benny) and swearing (from me) ensued. Luckily, no noses or heads were broken. But I am now sleeping behind a fortress of pillows.
Oh yes, and there was the incident last week. Benny was being particularly cute and, as we left the restaurant we’d just been eating at, I picked him up for a cuddle. He enthusiastically mimicked the gesture. But instead of throwing his small hands around my neck, he managed to whip his hands across my face and stick one of his small fingers up my nose.
As I later walked down the street, holding a bloodied Kleenex to my nose, I said to Brad, “Well, at least it’s a blog!”
