Something strange and new has been going on in the DoctorMama household. Although the refrigerator is still empty except for limes, beer, and dozens of quarter-full containers of takeout food of indeterminate origin; although the floor under the desk in the study still has a faint yet evocative odor of pissed-off cat piss; although the plants continue their slow march toward death; although nothing else has changed, HellBoy is becoming AngelBaby.
I agreed to watch him by myself for three hours straight today. While this may sound laughable to those who are single-handedly juggling twins, puppies, and broken pipes, let me tell you, I was dreading it. I am not a wimpy person. I am even rather skilled at taking care of babies (I was an au pair in Switzerland, for chrissake!). I don't go down easily, but HellBoy can take me down. And he saves his really special moments for me alone. But TrophyHusband needed to get some important work done, so I took HB to ... the outlet mall.
I chose this because it's the sort of frantic place where an extra minion of hell is not especially noticed. Also because he's just finally grown out of his 12-month overalls and actually needed new clothes. I prepared as if going on a secret assassination assignment into the deepest jungle -- DVD player for the car, check; lollipops, check; binky, check; diapers, check; toy cell phone featuring Glinda the Good Witch chirping "I love you SO MUCH!" over and over until your ears start to bleed but at least it makes him happy godammit, check.
And then off we went. And I have nothing to report, except that I never had to pull out the DVD player in an hour total of driving (longest time by far); he SAT IN HIS STROLLER in the mall (I swear to god, he hasn't done that for longer than 15 minutes since he was two weeks old -- we've been using it as a shopping cart since then); he didn't cry, not even ONCE; he didn't require lollipops nor grab at my breasts screaming "DAT! DAT!", just politely held his hand out for veggie puffs and said "More"; and there was a crying baby in one store whose mother said, "Look, there's a good baby. Why can't you be a good baby?" And she was pointing at HellBoy!!!!
This could be temporary, I realize. My nose only just today stopped making a weird clicking noise when I scratch it. But if it keeps up, I'm going to have to look around for something else to bitch about. And I'm going to have to find another way to get my upper-body workouts if I'm not going to be heaving a thrashing toddler around for hours every day.