Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The many faces of Cade
It's so funny to see Cade's personality already... I thought we'd have even more waiting after he was born to see what he's like, but these pictures capture a lot of his looks. He can be such a flirt with me, so persistant, engaging, serious, thoughtful, you can see him processing through things which I love! He's curious, he wonders about the world about him, he loves to watch himself in the mirror, he punks me when he lets out a little yelp and then once he has my attention he gives me that shit-eating grin. He likes to start conversations with a grunt, and then he grabs onto my fingers and we talk back and forth, where I imitate his sounds and he smiles. He doesn't even take out his binky, but I don't mind. He's our little man with a little plan!
So yesterday at the mall I was parading him around in the stroller. I haven't quite found the balance of proud mom yet. If someone compliments my fabulously gorgeous baby (okay, I'm the only one who's actually called him that) I either launch into full on conversation OR I don't acknowledge at all. It's like I have some extreme flip where I'm suddenly your best friend or I'm diva mommy who can't be bothered by your papparizzi-esque flattery. Honestly, how obnoxious am I? But if I'm focused on getting my Diet Dr. Pepper refill at Chic-fil-A and trying to summon willpower not to refill my waffle fries as well, then it's really hard to also turn on mega-sweet smile and look deserving of this little doll I'm pushing around.
Also, I hate to admit my flaws, I really do, but I have to confess... I might be getting a little psycho around prego women. I want to tell them how freaking amazing their lives are going to be and yes, get the epidural, and no, maybe you won't be in labor as long as me, and yes, it's so worth it and I'd do it again even though when I was pushing I thought I might just die. Instead as I'm walking around the mall with my badass stroller and badass little baby, I give a smile that I hope is encouraging and knowing. And I keep my distance around the strangers who are prego. I know there's a chance they're jealous that I already have my baby and they haven't met their yet. Oh yes, I remember that feeling. Howev, my prego friends, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't keep my trap shut and my verbal diarrhea is like spoiling Christmas by telling them how miraculous and fabulous their baby will be. It's not cool, I'm aware it's annoying, and...I'm sorry.