May 23 and 24 might not seem special to you, but they are anniversaries too. They are 11 year anniversaries of my asking the question, “Now what?” about raising a child. What now? What do I do with it? What if it cries and I can’t help it? What if the neighbors call the police? What if the department of children and families decides to investigate our diaper changing techniques or how often we bathe? What then?
Eleven years later, I am still asking those questions. Now there are four children, instead of just one. We moved to the country so we wouldn’t have to worry about the neighbors calling the police. In fact, we are considering calling the police on some of them. There is a small boy that enjoys biking in his underoos. Is that okay? I kinda don’t think so, but I guess we’re in the boondocks now.
I remember 11 p.m. on the night of May22. Mr. and Mrs. Informinator were the last people to leave our “homecoming party” for our new baby boy. We were petrified to see them go. Once they pulled out of the driveway, we were alone in our cluelessness.
Yesterday, I celebrated that anniversary of the realization that I know nothing by knowing nothing yet again. Beloved had been saying all day she didn’t feel well. She doesn’t feel well a lot, truthfully. I think she is afflicted with Middle Child Illness at least some of the time. Yesterday I logged her complaints as just that. I tried everything. Tried to hydrate her. Tried to feed her. Laid her on my bed. Hugged her. Sympathized with her. Unsympathized with her (suck it up, teeny one, you’re fine!). Etc.
I was bustling around with her not eating dinner when Todd called to me from the dining room. The unthinkable had occurred. I won’t describe it. I’ll just give you a few words from basic German Shepherd.
Carnage. Lysol. Pine floors (so thankful). Bucket. Emergency phone call to get a sub for my bible class.
Middle Child Sickness.
Not so much
Happy Anniversary to me. Maybe next year the knowledge will come.
Surely next year…