BIOBaby: So Far, So Good and Other Short Stories

April 21, 2009 by nina
Filed under Blog It Out, Baby

It’s been a little over 8 months and so far Jack has yet to pee in my face. Some of you are probably wondering why I’m keeping a running clock. Ever since I can remember I’ve been terrified of having a son for one reason; his penis. It kinda freaks me out. And that’s weird considering that most women have to become quite intimate with a penis in order to have a son. But adult penises are different. They can be beautiful. Baby penises look weird. They remind me of turtles.

I’m not a fan of all the ball lifting and skin movement involved in cleaning one either. But, as a mother I do what I gotta do no matter that I risk a pee shot to the face and no matter how funny the nuts look. Soon after Jack came home from the hospital I called my Dad…

“Jack’s balls look funny.”

“They’re probably not what you’re used to.”

And the pee thing doesn’t freak me out because it’s pee. Again, as a Mom I’ve dealt with worse. With both Kali and Jack I’ve had to suction out their clogged up, grody, booger noses… with my mouth. Hey! My babies couldn’t breathe and those suction balls were crap! Anyway, I’m a Mom so I’m not easily freaked out by poop, pee, vomit, and snot. What really scares me about taking some baby pee in the face is the lack of warning. It’s the, “Will today be the day” that is freaking me out!

It’s not like he’s gonna say something first like, “Look out, Mommy!,” or, “Duck!,” or “I’m R. Kelly, Mom!,” or, “Look, Ma. No hands!”

He’s just gonna piss in your face.

And possibly your eye.

Thank God We Don’t Have a Cat

Sunday night I had a dream that Jack and I were in this really raggedy house in Brooklyn. He was sleeping on a bed right by the front door in the foyer and I was looking around for… the keys, the Bogeyman… I felt imminent danger. I could see our car parked at the curb, and I just wanted to get out of this house. It was dark and scary. I went to the bottom of the stairs and peered up at the second floor. One of my sisters, Naiemah, was there feeding her son who was sitting in a high chair. He’s 8.

A black cat came bounding down the stairs. It jumped on my head and then on the bed with Jack. I grabbed Jack, but the cat kept trying to jump on him. I would bat the cat away, and he spring back hissing and clawing. I had the cat in my right hand, while holding Jack against my left hip. The cat was scratching and biting at me. I had this one thought, “Nina, you’re gonna have to put Jack down for one minute and use both hands to snap this cat’s neck,” and then I woke up.

I woke up in a fierce Mama Bear mood. I was ready to snap necks. If we had a cat, it would have been dead yesterday morning. Bella is so lucky.

Fetch!

Jack has had a low-grade fever off and on for the past two days. I think he’s cutting more teeth. Because of this, he’s pretty much getting anything he wants so long as he’s comfortable and happy. Last night he kept tossing a teething toy off the side of the couch. We’d kept it in the freezer for awhile hoping the cold would feel good against his gums. Well, once it warmed up, Jack didn’t want it. I wasn’t getting that message because I was too busy cooing at him, and every time he tossed it, I retrieved it.

“Do you know how much Mama loves you? Huh? I can’t wait for you to understand my words so I can tell you how much I love you and you’ll know.”

Donny, who has been holding Jack the whole time and watching our little game, says, “Oh, he knows how much you love him by the way he can get you to fetch that damn teething ring.”

“Shut up.”

I give it back to Jack who proceeds to hit it on the arm of the couch in increments of three and grunting, “Uh uh uh,” with each hit.

“Jack, don’t throw it okay? Listen to Mommy.”

“Uh, uh, uh.”

“Jack, dont’…”

He looks at me. He smiles. He throws it.

Donny says, “He just told you, ‘Fuck yo couch!’”