We recently had the pleasure of my mom's company to celebrate both Passover and Romi's first birthday. Mom spent a little less than two weeks with us, and although we had plenty of trials and tribulations (Passover prep, stomach flu, allergies, etc.) we had a truly wonderful time. It did my heart much good to see how much my mother and my son enjoyed one another's company. I also need to add that having an extra pair of hands in the house didn't hurt. We got so much more done when there was a third adult willing to spend so much time on the floor entertaining the Moochkala. And so, one morning when Rob needed to be at the shul to prep the kiddish we were sponsoring for Romi's first birthday and I needed to go to the doctor to discover why my eyes were bright red (it turned out to be allergic conjunctivitis--yuck), I asked mom to watch Mooch. It was only supposed to be for a half-hour or so, but doctors' offices being what they are, I was gone longer than expected. The doctor had given me a prescription for eye drops and I was anxious for some relief, so I called my mom to ask if I could delay my return a bit longer and stop at Walgreens. Her response? No. Why not? Because Romi's safety is her primary concern.
Not an answer to inspire confidence in the heart of any mother.
What exactly, I asked, did she mean by that? In true Marilyn style she repeated herself, which explained absolutely nothing at all. I tried to ask for clarification but when none was forthcoming, I told her she was seriously freaking me out. That must have hit a sympathetic maternal cord and I finally got to the bottom of the situation.
It seems as if Romi, who can't talk but has no trouble communicating his wants, needs and desires, wanted something to eat. My little old mom picked up her 18-pound grandson and successful got him into his highchair without injury to either party. Way to go! Alas, this is when the anxiety began. My mom tried to strap him in. Now, my mom has a long history of not being able to put on a seat belt (my sister Jodi inherited this defect), but other than that she's pretty competent. However, no matter what she did she could only get one side of him strapped in--his left leg.
Romi was getting impatient by this time and wanted to eat so my mom decided to forge ahead. She had fed him numerous times already on this trip, but he always came pre-packaged, complete with bib, highchair and food items. This DIY was a whole new ballgame and my mom was not enjoying the sport. After a few tries she gave up on the bib (to be fair, it's got this really weird button thing that you then flip inside out) and decided to go straight to the food. Unfortunately, it wasn't all set out on the counter like normal. Instead, she looked up and realized it was all in the fridge, which wouldn't have been a problem except she was hesitant to leave him in the highchair when he wasn't fully strapped in. So my mom did the only thing she could think of to satisfy the little guy's hunger pains and her peace of mind for his safety: every time she went into the kitchen, to the fridge or the microwave, she wheeled him with her. Really. Needless to say, she was pretty darn tired by the time I called.
She also was not amused when I explained to her that the reason she couldn't get the straps on the baby was that we hadn't used them for two months.
Having successfully navigated watching the Moochkie-Papoochkie on her own, my mom decided to teach the little bugger how to use a sippy cup. Here's a video which shows how well that went:
