WT Mom, Cops, & Camaros

The big news of the week is that Beckett is walking. Or at least periodically taking multiple steps. I’m not sure at what point I can classify him as “a walker” but he’s well on his little way.

I’m so clueless about children. I was always under the impression that by the time babies could walk, they were pretty much self-sufficient. If they were old enough to walk, they were certainly old enough to get me a drink or make me a sandwich…right? Now that Beckett is to that magical age, I’m sad to report that he’s very much still a baby. Nobody’s making momma anything.

I’ve already admitted I’m clueless about child-rearing. My goal at the end of each day is (literally) for Beckett to still be breathing and relatively unharmed. If he’s happy, that’s an added bonus. If both of us are clean and not still wearing our pajamas from the night before, … that’s happened like twice, so I’m not sure how I feel about it.

I know, I know…”No one knows what they’re doing as parents.” I just pray you never see my Google history to know just how bad it is.

So a lot of what I learn is from talking to other moms. I like the ones who are always reading stuff and talking to specialists.

A lot of times I just listen, smiling and nodding periodically. I’d rather not chime in because I pretty much do the easiest-and-cheapest routes possible. It would probably sound a little like this:

Her: Our nutritionist makes all of our food. It’s all gluten-free, vegan, and organic.
Me: I made Taylor go get Totino’s pizzas for us at 10:30 the other night. You know, as a second dinner.

Her: We put foam covers on every visible corner and carpeted every room.
Me: I use the kitchen chairs as baby gates.

Her: Our private swim tutor will have the baby swimming unassisted in 2 weeks.
Me: I put Beckett’s baby float inside another float so I didn’t have to hold it.

Her: All of our toys are BPA-free.
Me: Beckett’s favorite toys are my blow dryer and toilet paper.

But, hey, this guy is still alive. And he’s happy. And we’re both clean and not wearing pjs. WHO’S A SUPERMOM NOW, SUCKAAAS?!?!

I should get out more. 

Cops & Camaros

Also this week:

1. Some cops came by our house to ask a few questions about our next-door neighbor who had applied to be an officer in their department. His first question? “How do you know Dusty?” Well, he’s my neighbor, sir. So, I’ve seen him a time or two.

2. Taylor, my brother, and I were working on travel details for our family trip to Florida when my brother busts in with, “What if we rented a car and drove?” to which we replied, “Heck to the no – we are not driving 14 hours with a 13 month old…” to which my brother replied, “But what if it was a really sweet rental car – like a convertible Camaro?” to which we … laughed. A lot. Jared goes, “What? Why is that so funny? We wouldn’t have to have the top down the whole time!” We told him when he said “really sweet rental car” we were envisioning some sort of minivan with built-in DVD players. We’re so old.