Last weekend I took care of my 3 year old niece for a couple of days and one night. I put my son to bed in his crib and Jayla in the play pen. I awoke the next morning to Carlos sitting up in bed asking me where Conor was. I squinted in the general direction of the crib and saw one very fuzzy child like blur in said crib so I responded, quite irritated for being woken up with such a ridiculous question, "what do you mean? He's right THERE, in the crib."
Carlos rolls his eyes, "that's not your son."
I squint again, then put my glasses on. Oh, what do you know. That is not a pale, blonde haired boy but rather a very not pale, brunette haired girl. Oops.
(For those of you concerned about the whereabouts of my son, who I apparently can no longer recognize, he was off in a corner by the closet, playing with scissors, a box of matches, the usual).
Point being the time has finally arrived in my parenting career that I had hoped I could fend off at least until he was 13. I've heard of it happening to other parents but I just didn't think it could happen to me. My own mother warned me of it, recalling the day her own life was "officially over."
I can no longer contain my child.
Gone are the lazy mornings I hand my child a sippy cup and a basket full of toys while Mommy catches a precious 20 minutes of extra snooze time. Now I'm going to be awakened by a 35 pound energizer bunny jumping on my rib cage or perhaps with a large toy truck to the face.
I knew my sister's child would turn out to be a bad influence. My sweet baby boy would never dream of doing something like this on his own.
My baby is growing up way too quickly. Slow down child, for the love of God slow down!!
And this is so not helping my baby fever.