To My Baby Boy, Before You Become an Asshole

Dear Baby Colin,

How can I express how precious you are at this stage in your life?  At nearly 18 months old, you are endearing, joyful, upbeat, appreciative, charming, playful, silly, easygoing, good humored, cuddly, loving, and a complete momma's boy.  You are, quite simply, irresistible.  To me and everyone around you.

Sure, you have your moments of crying and irrational tantruming.  But most of the time those are just because you want to be picked up and held.  And given that you're my last baby, I am happy to oblige.

I call you my angel baby.

Just last week when I referred to you as this, your daddy reminded me that I used to say the same things about both of your older brothers (now 4 and 6).

I laughed in his face, assuming he was kidding, until all at once it came flooding back to me.  I did refer to your brothers as my angel babies.  (I even have the blog post to prove it).

Don't get me wrong, I love your older brothers with all of my heart.  Unconditionally and completely. But they are not angels.

They are not angels at all.

In fact, a lot of the time they are assholes.

I would never call them that to their face, of course.  No, I try to be cool, calm, and collected at all times - with limited success.  But in my head, if I am being honest, I am often calling them assholes. Because at this age, they kind of are.

I can't imagine you ever turning into an asshole.  I mean, after all, you are an angel!  But as you begin to leave your babyhood and enter the era of toddlerhood, I have a few requests:

- Please do not ever refer to me as a "butt."  This is the equivalent of toddler/kid profanity, and I do not appreciate it.

- Please do not freak out if a single drop of water finds its way to your shirt, pants, head, or other body part.  Please accept my reassurances that it will dry.  Please do not disrobe.

- Please do not throw your food, or your toys, or your shoes, or empty bottles of water at anyone's head, and particularly at my head whilst I am driving.

- Please do not hit your brothers.  Or the dog.  Or me.  When I attempt to physically restrain you, or carry you to time out, please do not threaten to call the police on me and claim child abuse.

- While we are on the subject of police, please do not call 911 for fun.  Ever.  (The police will come to our house even if we assure them it was a mistake - I have learned this the hard way).

- If you need me in the middle of the night, you may call for me, but please do not do so if you just want to ask me if we can go the park at the weekend.  You can wait to ask me that until the morning.

- Please refrain from saying the following: "I don't like today because of you," "Remember when I told you I loved you?  I was kidding about that," and upon seeing you first thing in the morning: "I'm going to make you sad today."

- If you make me a card or draw me a picture at school, don't threaten to tear it up when I refuse to give you a cupcake before dinner.  That's just mean.

- While at the beach, please do not pour sand deep into your scalp.  If you must do so, please do not scream bloody murder when I attempt to wash it out.

- Please allow me to apply sunscreen.  Even if you thrash and scream and kick and stop, drop, and roll, I will still have to get it on you.  We can do it the easy way or the hard way.

- Please believe me when I tell you that it does not hurt to put a thermometer under your tongue or your arm.  I promise you it's better than the alternative.

- Please believe me when I tell you that it's not possible to wear a band aid forever, and it must be removed.  On that same note, please do not eat your scabs and say "Mmmmmmmmm."

- Once potty trained, please do not pee in the toilet with your brothers at the same time, not even if you think it is fun to "cross the streams" (a la Ghostbusters).

- I am all for your being independent and wiping your own ass, but until you have it mastered, can you just go ahead and call for me to help you?  I could do without the skid marks and smears of feces on the toilet seat and floor.  Thanks.

- Don't taste your pee.  I can't believe I have to say this, but apparently I do.

- I can't even begin to cover the topic of eating, so let me put it simply.  Just eat what I give you. That is all.

- But I will implore you to abstain from drinking your milk and repeatedly spitting it back out into your cup.  That's just disgusting.

- Please let me pick out your clothes - it's just easier that way.  If you are 4 years old, and I give you size 5 pants, please do not freak the hell out.

- Please do not throw a kicking fit the first time you wear a new pair of shoes or a new coat.  I assure you I have your best interest and comfort at heart.

- When I come to pick you up from a playdate at a friend's house, please do not run from me, hide somewhere in the basement, and take advantage of the fact that you know I won't really yell at you since others are present (I'll save that until we get in the car).

- Please remember that stools, chairs, couches, and benches are meant to be sat upon.  Please refrain from jumping, running, doing somersaults, and balancing on your head on such apparatuses, as it could result in injuries requiring stitches, at which point your stoic mother may nearly faint.

- Keep in mind that we literally have hundreds of toys.  Hundreds!  So if one of your brothers is playing with the one tiny matchbox car that you have decided you absolutely must have or your world will end, try to just chill out and play with another one that looks exactly the same.

- Please remember that it does not matter who washes their hands first.  Or gets in the car first.  Or puts on their shoes first.  Or gets down the stairs first.  Or brushes their teeth first.  Truly, it doesn't matter.  Don't buy into the bullshit.

- Lastly - and this one's important - if I ever on the rare occasion go out with friends and stay out too late and am driven to drink too much due to the aforementioned asshole behaviors, please have mercy on me the next day.  Generally, mercy is appreciated.

Of course, I can't imagine you doing any of these things.  Why would you, my sweet innocent baby?

But if you do....  I promise I will still love you just as much as I do now.

And I won't ever call you an asshole to your face.

Love,

Mommy

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