Best Buddy

A good friend of mine has a newborn. He'll be one month old this week. During my visits with them I play with the baby's feet, bounce him over my arm, sway him from side to side and try as best I can to answer his mom's stream of questions about what on earth she should do for him/with him/to him/about him. I offer an occasional, "yeah, BBZ did that too when he was a newborn," or the oh-so-unhelpful, "maybe you should write that down and ask the pediatrician next time you see her." I tell a story about my experience that makes her understand she's not alone in her experience. But I realize perhaps the best help I can give is to make conversation and keep her company. To help break up the hours that roll into days with stories of the "outside world," to try and remind her that it won't be like this forever. I'm helping her; at least I think I am.

But for me, the unexpected discovery is how much these visits have helped me. They've helped me realize that those awful first months (and let's be honest, they were pretty horrible) were a small price to pay for what I have now. Because, the truth is this: my three-year-old is one of the greatest human beings I know and there are few people I would rather spend time with than him. Of course I love him fiercely and I am so proud of him that I have to remind myself that strangers don't always need to hear about the magnitude of his greatness. But I think the unexpected thing about being BBZ's mom is how much I enjoy his company. The loneliness of having a helpless newborn has been replaced with the joy of having a best buddy. We spend a lot of time together these days and lately I've been trying to recognize why he's so awesome to hang out with. He loves it when I tell him stories about when he was a baby. He likes to perform - a lot. He makes up words and commits them to memory (my favorite is "lasterday" which is a combination of last week and yesterday.) He's curious and friendly to everyone. But mainly, I've decided that a lot of his charm has to do with his unique, intelligent, and funny observations on life. Everything is a little better and far more simple when I hear it from him:

Upon seeing me enter his daycare classroom at the end of the day:
"Oh, Mommy! You came back! First, you left me. That made me sad. But now you are here. That makes me happy." (that about sums up my feelings too, son)

Upon seeing a car turn right at a red light:
"Mommy. That car did NOT stop. Red means stop. Green means go. That car is not listening. It needs to go in timeout." (this is less charming when I'm the driver he's reprimanding)

Upon hearing James Taylor sing "Carolina in my Mind:"
"He said MINE! We don't say mine. We only say share." (this was followed by a challenging conversation where I tried to explain what a mind is)

Upon climbing into his chair for dinner:
"Daddy, let's talk. Let's talk about how I love the Tar Heels." (obviously we are raising him right)

Upon seeing a newborn baby boy:
"I like her. She's cute. All babies are girls because big boys are the boys." (luckily the 3-week-old wasn't offended)

Upon reading an EXIT sign on the interstate:
"Hey, E-X-I-T...just like over the door at the ice cream store!" (this confirmed my suspicions that my child actually is the smartest kid in the universe)

Upon hearing a 10 second blurb of the evening news:
"Hey, the man on the TV said Thursday! Thursday is before show-and-tell day." (in his perfect world, every day would be show-and-tell day)

Upon seeing his Daddy finishing off an ice cream bar after BBZ was supposed to be in bed:
"Do you and mommy always eat ice cream after I go to sleep?" (insert parent guilt here)

And, my personal favorite...
Upon seeing his Daddy check his email wearing only his boxer shorts:
"My Daddy was naked on the computer!" (unfortunately, this declaration was made to a room full of people)

Ah yes, the short stretches of sleep (we're talking 3 hours was a marathon for him as a newborn), the endless diaper changes, and not being able to decipher his cries have been replaced with plenty of rest, potty training mastery, and joyous understanding of every word he utters. Check back with me when he's a moody teenager, but for now, I think I got one heck of a deal.