If my sister ever finally pops her little son out, I am planning to fly to see her and the new babe for six days in the beginning of November. Since I am nursing, I am bringing Molly with me, but I am leaving Frankie at home. I am already getting anxious about it. Dean is beside himself with excitement over the opportunity to take vacation days and spend 24 full hours a day devoted to uninterrupted Frankie worship and adoration. I'm trying to talk him down from all the activities he has planned- camping trips, Chucky Cheese, bumper cars, trips to the moon. Since she already greets me with loving words like "I want Daddy. I love Daddy the best." I feel this excess of good times will only further cement his reputation as FUN! FUN! FUN! and my reputation as JUST A MINUTE, FRANKIE! MOMMY HAS TO (WIPE MOLLY'S BUTTOCKS, FINISH CUTTING THIS CHICKEN, RUN THIS LOAD OF LAUNDRY UPSTAIRS, QUICK TAKE A LOOK AT CELEBRITY BABY BLOG). I want him, while I am away, to force her into servitude, feed her gruel, and lock her in a closet so that I can return in glory, arms full of overpriced wooden trains, and be welcomed back with great glee. Otherwise I think I will die while I am away. I will be prostrate with homesickness for her and then have to call home and hear that she is too busy living a life of nonstop fun to talk to me, let alone miss me.
I am looking forward to having six days of uninterrupted alone time with my little sweetie, though. I feel like I never get to devote even a tenth of the time I devoted to Frankie at this age. Note to all you second-borns, you completely got the shaft in life. And if you are a third-born or, in my mother-in-law's family a fourteenth-born, you basically got a wink and a firm handshake from your mother. I keep reading Frankie's baby book and how at seven months old she knew all these words and would look at the objects when I asked her to. Then I try it with Molly and every time I say "Molly, where's the light?", she smiles happily at me in blissful drooling ignorance. But I realized that I have pointed out the light about ten times to her and I pointed it out to Frankie (along with its appropriate sign language partner) approximately eighty-five thousand times. Molly is going to return from this trip with a significant IQ boost, I can promise you that. She is going to know where the plant is, where the fan is, what a dangling participle is. AND she is going to love me best.
1 comment:
Funny. You have legitimate concerns where Dean's concerned; they will go to Dog-n-Suds at least a dozen times. And now you can see why I thought my balloons would float. No one bothered to teach me anything. We Mollys have a lot to commiserate over.
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