On being #BoyMom
I thought I was feeding a 25 pound 2-year-old. Little did I know that he has a superpower. On a typical day, he's like any other child. But once in a while, perhaps when planetary alignment signals to something deep in his chromosomal makeup, he becomes a pair of linebackers.
It is the sole responsibility of one of these to consume calories. So from about 11 this morning until now (it's nearly 1 PM), this boy consumes pizza slices and crunchy fish fillets, fresh fruit, corned beef, hash browns, orange juice and anything else he can require either from me or his sister's plate. The second linebacker seems to split his efforts between yelling at me for more food for the first half of him. Else he is occupied with the destruction of obstacles in his path and the conquest against any worthy opponent (be it refrigerator or entertainment center). Sometimes he deigns to consider me an opponent, but I think it is only sport.
Then eventually the planets shift. The signals fade. The linebackers each collect sippy cup or blanket respectively then seat themselves on the couch to merge again. A miraculous transformation occurs and I find a cherubic face peeking out from the blanket covered in red tractors. Weary eyes ask me for help and comfort. It seems, sometimes...it is hard to be a little boy.