Be Careful What You Wish For
When I found out I was pregnant, I decided that I did not want to know baby’s gender until he or she was born. A typical conversation from about six months into my pregnancy was as follows –
- Other person: “Do you know what you are having”
- Me: “Yes, a baby”
- Other person: “I mean a boy or a girl”
- Me: “Yes, hopefully either a boy or a girl”
- Other person: “But don’t you want to find out?”
- Me: “I think it will be obvious when the baby is born”
Yes, I was deliberately being a bit antagonistic but I had decided that there was very little that was a surprise in the 21st century information age. Everything seems so immediate nowadays. After all, we can online shop with next day delivery, look up information on the internet and have an answer straight away, plus take a photo and not only see it but upload it in a flash.
Not many people saw my point of view and I thought it was because many of us had lost the respect of waiting for something wonderful to happen. But I was wrong. It was because most of the people I talked to were already parents. They didn’t understand my wish for surprise with the gender because life as a parent is chock-a-block full of surprises.
The Day One Surprise
In fact my first surprise with Dylan occurred before I found out he was a boy. Just before he was born, my midwife said to me – “Your baby is coming as I can see blonde hair”. With my brown hair and brown eyes, I never imagined that I would have a blonde haired, blue-eyed child.
Over the past three years I have encountered all sorts of surprises as a mummy. Here are a few, split into the good, bad and the ugly…
The Good Surprises
Most of the good surprises arise from the astonishing amount of development that occurs in the first three years of life. Dylan’s first smile at a few weeks old, his commando crawling by five months and when he first started saying ‘Mummy’ at 18 months – all of these were good surprises.
His ability to learn new things amazes me. At two he not only said “nigh nighs” to his toys but pushed them over to imitate that they were sleeping. He has learnt his manners a little too well and now when I say “time to go to bed” he says, “no thank you please”.
Seeing imagination emerge has been fascinating. Just after Dylan turned two, he was eating some cucumber in his high chair and held up the dark green crescent part that was left over and said “boat” to me. It was also an eye-opener when I realised his long-term memory had developed. When Dylan was two and a half, I pulled out a t-shirt for him to wear and he said to me “thank you Granny Trish” – my mum had given that t-shirt to him over six months earlier.
I sometimes feel like I am at most two steps in front of my child. Just the other day, Dylan pointed out a fly inside the house and asked me to move it outside. I asked him how I should do that. He said I should “blow the shoo-fly out with my hair driver” – that is, get my hair drier and use that to blow the fly out of the window.
The Bad Surprises
I have had my fair share of bad surprises. At seven months, I discovered my baby lying on his tummy in his cot despite being in a swaddle and a Safe-T-sleep. At eight months, I left him alone with a magazine for a few moments and then found a huge wad of paper in his mouth. And at ten months I trialled the ‘leaving him to cry method’ when he wouldn’t have his nap, only to eventually go into his room to find blood all over his face where he had cut his lip on the wooden cot rail.
The worst surprise so far was seeing how much blood could come out of one little finger shut too quickly in a door and subsequently spending a long evening at A&E.
Sometimes the bad surprises can be good. At 18 months, I left Dylan alone in the secure living area of our house for a few minutes only to come back to find that he had climbed onto his high chair then onto the kitchen bench and crawled along and got into the advent calendar chocolates. He turned to me and said “chocolate” for the first time.
The Ugly Surprises
Then there are the ‘ugly’ surprises. These are mostly scatological in nature, but thankfully not that common. The unexpected arc of pee when changing a nappy, the surprise number two in the bath a couple of times. When a cry wakes you in the middle of the night and you walk into your child’s bedroom to be hit by the overwhelming smell of vomit – now that is one nasty surprise you don’t forget in a hurry.
At ten months, Dylan would follow me into the toilet, pull himself up and when I flushed it, he would put his hands down into the cascading water. One day when he was just over one, he looked like he was chewing on something and when I opened his mouth I discovered a dead fly. At 18 months old, I caught him just in time after he turned on the oven, opened the door and tried to climb in.
Now he is almost three, I worry most about what he says and does in public. Recently at the supermarket, he asked me quite loudly “why has that man got a lot of chins?” And although I like the fact he is pretty much toilet trained, when he pulled down his pants at a busy picnic area to “water the forest” I didn’t know whether to run over to help or pretend that he wasn’t my child.
The Biggest Surprise of All
The biggest surprise of all is that my tiny baby has grown into a little man. Dylan, you are almost three years old. Happy birthday my beautiful boy and may you continue to surprise me for many, many years to come.