We have many photos of the kids together wherein approximately 66.7% of them are smiling and the other 1/3 is almost always the same child, and not only is he not smiling, but he’s completely pissed off at the whole ordeal.
See, here’s another.
Now don’t get the wrong idea, he can be sweet too.
He’s even been sweet in pictures with his brother and sister around as well.
He’s full of piss and vinegar in a way that the older two kids just never were.
They were both so easy. I mean other than a little run of acid reflux with Cdawg, they both behaved freakishly good as babies/toddlers/little kids and were a joy to be around almost always. Heck, even potty training both of them was a breeze.
I’m not saying that G$ isn’t a joy to have around, he can be, but when he’s in a mood, it’s severe and normally the timing blows (i.e. screaming at the dinner table).
Here’s a brief synopsis of his short life. If any of you are psychiatrists and want to take a stab at what we can expect from G$ as a teen or adult, let me know.
He was a “surprise” baby for sure.
We had one of each sex. When you have one of each sex, that’s God’s way of saying, “Ok you two, you can be done procreating now. You’re welcome for the two beautiful kids.”
We didnt’ listen and suddenly we were going to have three (we’ve since learned how this happens and I’ve taken steps to fix it, thank you).
While getting the room that was going to be an office ready to be a nursery instead, I threw out my back like I never have before. It was some sort of sciatica thingy and it had me out of commission for weeks.
Never have I felt such pain.
While in the womb, G$ was breech and had to be turned around in some God awful procedure that no woman should have to endure. Basically, the doctor and a couple of her best strong buds literally push and turn the baby into the correct position. It was called an external version or eversion or something. I wonder sometimes if this pissed him off and he’s never gotten over it.
But, they popped that little man into position and he came into this world like a champ.
He’s been a handful since he was a wee fetus is I guess the point.
Still, he’s funny and charming when he wants to be and he makes a kickass Thor.
He poked a
mean pretty neighbor lady in the eye once (that was actually pretty funny since she didn’t sue us).
He disrupts dinner with his screaming. Not yelling, SCREAMING.
He demands to be held, often, and usually when there’s shit to be done (i.e. cook dinner).
Sometimes, he’s choosy about who
has gets to hold him. Sometimes he wants no part of me, but other times, it’s only me that he wants to hold him.
He’s often on his best behavior when one or more of his brother and sister isn’t around. Maybe three’s a crowd for him or something?
He throws things on the floor for no reason.
He throws things into the trash that don’t belong.
He’s eaten sex lube.
He was our first emergency room visit.
He’s a hitter.
He’s been accused of being a biter (never substantiated!).
He’s opened child proof medicine bottles.
He’s drawn on the walls and smeared Vaseline all over himself and our master bath, and done countless other things to make us sigh, but in spite of this, or maybe because of this, I just love that little man to pieces.
Of course, I love all my kids, but I think I love G$ because he’s different than the other two even more than I would were he an angel. If that’s possible.
How boring would it be to have three kids who always acted like perfect little people?
It’d suck, right? Right wife?