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Liam:  Mama?  When you grow up are you gonna be a boy like me?

Shannon:   No, Liam.  I’m already a woman.  See, I started out as a baby and then I grew into a girl and now I’m a woman.

Liam:  So Paige is a baby and one day she’ll be a girl?

Shannon:  That’s right.

Liam:  And I was a baby,  and now I’m a boy and one day I’ll grow up to be a Daddy, right?

Shannon:  [picking myself up from the puddle that I have now become on the floor] That’s right, Liam.

Liam:  Good.  I want to be a Daddy when I grow up.

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Not that we needed any extra confirmation of this point, but I’m pretty sure this means that Matt’s doing an amazing job.

I completely respect your right to your own religious beliefs, your dedication to those same beliefs (I mean, man it’s nasty outside today), and the fact that you are always very polite when you come to my door — but is it possible that after the fourth time in the past three weeks that you’ve come to my door and I’ve politely said that we are going to have to agree to disagree that maybe all you’re doing is irritating me and perhaps undermining your intent just a little bit?  Just curious…

I don’t know you personally so I shouldn’t recognize your face.  I shouldn’t recognize your car as you park it in front of my house, either.  I also shouldn’t have to run and hide in my own house when I see you coming because I just don’t have it in me to smile and be calm while dealing with you one more time.

You know that sign on my doorbell that tells you not to ring it because the baby’s sleeping?  That sign and the fact you can see that my house is a complete disaster from the street should tell you that I probably don’t have time to shoot the breeze…I mean, since the many times I’ve told you that face-to-face haven’t seemed to sink in at all.  Also, knocking loudly multiple times when I don’t answer the door immediately is annoying.  I don’t like it when political canvassers do it.  I don’t like it when people who tell me that they’re “doing some work for your neighbors and wanted to offer you a free estimate on gutter replacement” do it (especially irritating since if this claim were true by now the entire neighborhood would have new gutters and I’m observant enough to confirm that this is not the case).  I really don’t like it when I’m trying to spend a relaxing day in my living room and instead I find myself hiding in my bedroom to avoid having the same conversation for the fourth time in less than as many weeks.  I’m over it.

I know that your religious beliefs call for you to witness to people.  Don’t you think it would be more fruitful if you chose DIFFERENT people to whom to witness?  Maybe work with the law of averages a little bit on this one?  I know that I’m not well-versed on your specific religious beliefs and obligations so clearly I don’t understand why you’re doing what you’re doing and how you’re doing it.  What I do understand is that you’re not making any friends right now.

Respectfully and with a great amount of irritation,

Shannon

I see that you have once again inhabited my son’s body.  You were very clever this time when you made the choice to start the takeover at a time that had absolutely no obvious catalyst.  We even thought that he might be sick for a couple of days, but you can’t fool us forever (sleep deprivation has made us stupid, but even we aren’t that stupid).  I would; however, appreciate it if you could move on to someone else’s body before Thanksgiving.  He’s running his first race that morning and it’s going to be a long day and I don’t have time for an exorcism.  I understand that you’re not really in the business of accommodation, you are The Devil after all, but I think it became pretty clear during your last month-long stay in our son’s body after our daughter was born that it wasn’t much fun for you, either.  Rumor has it that you’re pretty self-serving, so I think you must appreciate the fact that this isn’t the vacation spot it might have been for you at some point.  Hasn’t all that time spent in time-out taught you anything, yet?  Also — you may be Beelzebub, but I’m Shannon and I’m afraid that you’re no match for me at this point in my life:  I’m feeling a little like kicking some hiney and taking some names and you’re at the top of the list.  You’ve been warned.

Sincerely,

Shannon

[Backstory:  Liam can do almost all of his potty routine by himself, but the cleaning of his bum after a certain type of pottying isn’t something we trust him to do quite yet.  I’ve found that the only way I can get him clean is to sit on the edge of the bathtub and put him over my knees.]

Liam: [Lying over my knees with his hands extended out in one direction and his legs in the other, balancing on his tummy.]  “Up, up, and away!  I’m Superman, Mama!  I can fly!”

Matt couldn’t have beamed any brighter after being told this story.  Liam has been wearing his Superman cape over his clothes daily for the past week.  Like father, like son in almost every way…

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[Scene:  Liam and I are sitting at the kitchen table while he eats a snack.]

Liam:  “Mama?  Where’s Daddy?  Is he at work?  Is he working?  I miss him a lot.”

Shannon:  “I know you do, Buddy, but he’ll be home soon.”

Liam:  “Oh, that’s great!  I miss him so much.  I love my Daddy so much, Mama.”

Shannon:  “He loves you too, Liam and I’m sure that he would rather be here with you because he misses you when he’s gone, too.”

Liam:  “Mama?  I love you so much too and I miss you when you’re gone too!”

Shannon:  “Thanks Liam.  Would you like a pony for your third birthday?”

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[Scene:  I’m helping Liam get out of his Pull-up after his nap so he can change into his undies for the rest of the day.]

Liam:  [Looking down at his boy bits]  “Oh No, Mama!”

Shannon:  “What’s the matter?”

Liam:  “My penis!  I have only one penis, Mama!  Where’s the other one?”

Shannon:  “You’ve always only had one penis, Buddy.  Sorry about that.”

Liam:  “No, Mama.  I have TWO penises.  I lost the other one.  I can’t find my other penis.  Where is it, Mama?  What happened to it?”

Shannon:  “I’m sure it’s every guy’s dream to have two penises, but Buddy you only get the one.”

Liam:  “Oh.  I only have one penis, Mama.  I’m sad.”

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Parenting a boy is quite an experience…

Living in this house right now is the best ad for birth control there has ever been.  I really think we could help with teen pregnancy by having an at risk teen stay at our house and witness firsthand what’s involved in caring for children.  If it didn’t involve more surgery on my lady bits I’d be running to the hospital requesting a tubal ligation.  STAT.

Remember when I offered Liam up to a good home for free?  At this point I’d pay someone to take Paige.  I don’t even know what kind of personality she has because what we’ve seen is sleep and screaming for the most part.

How is it fair that I gave birth to a gigantic baby who won’t give us a long stretch of sleep?  It’s a cruel, cruel joke.  I slept for a total of four hours last night, broken into two sections.  Matt has spent at least 3 hours of his day trying to put an exhausted child down to sleep.  Liam is crying out for attention.  The only reason we didn’t lose it today is because Gillian came by to help and I got to take a nap this afternoon.

I know that this is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t like this stage of life.  Very young babies are really cute if you get to give them back to their parents at night, not so much if you can’t.  I love the stage that Liam’s in right now.  He’s fully communicative.  He still naps (most days).  He’s potty trained (knock wood for expressing it publicly).  He wants to be a helper (most of the time).  He can entertain himself.  He’s easy to take on errands.  He doesn’t need to feed every five minutes.  Today he put the letters EYN in his fridge letter game and proclaimed “Ean!  It spells Ean!”  I wish I could keep him this age forever and fast forward Paige to catch up with him.

I just hope she makes it to two without any major fallout.

After hours and hours and hours of trying Matt got Paige to fall asleep around midnight.  I slept until 6 when she made a noise that wasn’t loud enough to wake her, but was enough for me.  She slept until 7, drank 6 oz., and was back down before 8.  Those are numbers I can live with.

Fingers crossed that as we get more Prevacid in her, she feels better and better, sleeps better and better, and smiles more and more.  Because right now I’m living for a couple of consecutive hours of sleep and some good baby smiles.

Parenthood is a crazy, crazy roller coaster but unfortunately life isn’t quite as much fun as Six Flags right now…