This is Middle-Aged Parenting
Today, Davis had his 15-month well visit. And although, he finally started walking last week, he is currently not meeting any of the other developmental milestones for his age. As a mother of six, this was no surprise to me, more like confirmation. None-the-less, I was somewhat bummed after the appointment, so… we went out to lunch. Don’t judge me.
Let me start this story off by saying: I have THE worst behaved child, ever. Davis does not talk, therefore his basic and primal communication involves signaling to us in the most obnoxious way possible. He screams bloody murder and throws anything in reach. It is utterly embarrassing. HE is utterly embarrassing. And I am the mom sitting at the restaurant table, silent and perplexed, because… I am perplexed. I am perplexed and confused at how I got here and what I did to deserve this.
So, when Davis felt like lunch was over today, he began giving his loud, "non-verbal" cues. He had chucked every remaining french fry on the floor, kicked off both shoes, and started screaming to the top of his lungs. If this weren’t enough, we started getting “the look” from the staff at the diner. “The look” included an express delivery of the check and a "to-go soda" peace offering #TrueStory. Believe me, I hate to give in to wildling behavior. But I’d also rather NOT be banned from my favorite diner. So, there it is. Fine. Let’s go.
I lift Davis up from the restaurant high chair, and thrust him over my left hip (cause heaven forbid this kid’s feet ever touch the ground). But now, I also need to get his shoes from under the table. With an extra 25 pounds on my left hip, I do the most centered squat possible. I have good form. I go slow, I get low, and as I’m reaching for the shoes under the table… ok, they are further under the table than I realized… I'm reaching... and... I become off-centered and off-balanced (because I’m 40 with an infant, and my center of gravity is not where I last left it). And just like that, just like someone's grandmother... I TOPPLE OVER! I literally fall over, in the diner, hit my head on the table, free hand to the ground as a late attempt to brace my fall. This was (in all actuality) the slowest, most dramatic fall in the history of ridiculous falls.
This is not even the worst part. Up to this point, I have yet to mention Varday (my husband), and do you know why? He was there but had NO ROLE WORTH MENTIONING!!! He is standing over me, holding the restaurant bill the entire time, as he watches me topple over, hit my head on the table, and go down to the ground. He is literally within reach of me. Right there. During my catastrophic descent, in the slowest fall in history, I look up to him for help. My eyes are begging, “please help me”. And he is gazing back at me... like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in time!! His reaction time was so slow, he never even moved. Right now, I have a small bruise over my right eye brow, because of an 8 minute, unassisted fall. No thanks to my Pop-Pop husband with the slow reaction time. (Remind me not to get eaten by a shark around Varday.)
In conclusion, I’d like to say, before becoming a middle-aged parent (like myself), please consider the following sobering facts. Kids seem to get a little less "textbook-ish", the older you get. With that being said, I think these kids sense when they have geriatric parents; middle-aged parents always seem to have the turn-up kids. Lastly, good balance and a great reaction time are some of the necessary things in parenting that you don’t realize you’ve lost, until you really need it. I will be squatting extra low in Body Pump this week.