We had a great trip home for Christmas. Here are some of my favorites from our time with my side of the family.
Liam playing with his toes.
Hanging out with Uncle Tim
Future member of the GOP heading off to the caucuses with his grandparents wearing mascot appropriate attire.
Four generations of Starmers and meeting Great Grandpa Carl.
Hanging out with his cousin Meredith.
Playing with his new train that Grandpa made for him.
I love my kid. Sometimes I look at him and think my heart may explode because of how much I love him. And if I’m being honest, I think, hands down, that my child is the cutest child on the planet (don’t we all?). So you can imagine my delight when I take this child out in public, and he smiles, bats his long lashes and babbles at anyone who will give him the time of day. I get so many comments on his cheeks, his smile, how beautiful he is, etc. I LOVE it. What?! I’m being honest. It does a mama’s heart good, I tell you.
So yesterday, I needed to run a bunch of errands the last of which was a stop at the Asian market. I went in, found what I needed and headed to the checkout line. As the woman was scanning my items, I noticed her staring at Liam. Again my pride began to swell, as I imagined how cute she must think he is, that she had never in her lifetime seen such beautiful eyes on a child, and “wow, his dad must be HOT!”. Hey, he has to get his looks from somewhere, and I’m that someone that takes that man home every night. Yah, she was totally envying my life, and if she spoke better English, she probably would have told me that. I signed my credit card receipt, grabbed my bag and walked out cockily with my beautiful child in arm, heading home to my perfect life. As I walked out the front doors, I looked down and realized the source of those stares.
Unbeknownst to me, my beautiful and perfect child, had spit up all down the front of me. “Spit up” doesn’t really do the action justice. It was more like a volcanic eruption of curdled milk mixed with drool. All. Down. My. Front. He left a puke strand dangling from the bottom of my jacket between my legs. My master puker also managed to leak his treasure all over my wallet which he had decided made a great chew toy.
Then came the humbling reality that the cashier was less impressed with my child’s good looks and more astonished at his projectile qualities. In one moment I went from that easy breezy new mom with not a care in the world, to the one’s I often look down my nose at with dirty looking children that should have been given a bath before seeing the light of day.
Ah, motherhood. One moment you’ve got it all together, and the next, you remember that you produce and care for children for a living and that will never be seamless or without puke.
Add “mastery of wooden spoons” to Liam’s repertoire.
