Overly Enthusiastic vs. Level-Headed Adult Responses to Small Achievements Made by Tiny Offspring
The last few days have been momentous for my daughter. We celebrated our first Father’s Day. She sat in her swing gurgling as I prepared the soon-to-be Annual Pancake Breakfast for my husband. We also introduced her to the joys of inflatable baby pools as a way to beat the heat in our suburban Texas backyard. This morning the thrilled me by rolling from her back to her front instead of just rolling to her side and maintaining position. I didn’t even let myself get excited until she had completed the full roll. ‘Cause I am too cool. I am a practiced, sage parent.
Right.
Except in reality, I was clapping and screaming encouragement like she had run a freaking marathon. Motherhood can really turn you in to a tool. An embarrassing, gaucho-wearing tool. Not that there is anything wrong with wearing gauchos, I just didn’t before I got pregnant.
I called my husband, thinking that he should share in our genius-child’s glory, only to have him laugh at me. I suppose I should have seen it coming. Adam is not the most tactful of loving partners, but the shock was still enough to squash my happy mom feelings and force me to [immaturely] hang up on him so that I could quietly weep.
It is weird how you can get so wrapped up in the accomplishments of your infant that you forget that other people don’t have the same investment. I guess if Adam spent every day staring at our daughter doing her turtle impression he would have bounced around with the same marked enthusiasm. And I could be the one that rattles on and on about phone cable and easements and blah blah blah old man job.
Take that, Financially Responsible Parent!
Right.
Except in reality, I was clapping and screaming encouragement like she had run a freaking marathon. Motherhood can really turn you in to a tool. An embarrassing, gaucho-wearing tool. Not that there is anything wrong with wearing gauchos, I just didn’t before I got pregnant.
I called my husband, thinking that he should share in our genius-child’s glory, only to have him laugh at me. I suppose I should have seen it coming. Adam is not the most tactful of loving partners, but the shock was still enough to squash my happy mom feelings and force me to [immaturely] hang up on him so that I could quietly weep.
It is weird how you can get so wrapped up in the accomplishments of your infant that you forget that other people don’t have the same investment. I guess if Adam spent every day staring at our daughter doing her turtle impression he would have bounced around with the same marked enthusiasm. And I could be the one that rattles on and on about phone cable and easements and blah blah blah old man job.
Take that, Financially Responsible Parent!
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