Baby Boot Camp

sorry, Bunder, no more ice cream

As of today, I put Kiki and Bunder on a strict diet: no more cookies, ice cream, or candy, no more strawberry milk, animal crackers, or mac-n-cheese, no more Disney channel, Thomas DVD’s, or even Dr. Seuss.  I’m going so far as saying, “NO!” whenever I possibly can.

Why?  You ask.  Has Bunder been especially naughty?  Am I starting some sort of baby boot camp?

Yes and yes.  Bunder’s always naughty, and I have to start baby boot camp the next two weeks, because …

Grandma’s coming to visit.  You all know what that means.  Every extravagant whim of a two year old, every gaudy indulgence, and every convoluted wish shall be granted.  I have to strip them of all pleasantries now in order to counteract the extreme spoiling they’ll receive.

You don’t believe me?  Ha!  Do you remember Kiki, Bunder, and I flew up north for a visit?  Well, Grandma met us to drive us to the farm.  I hurriedly transferred the luggage, pack and plays, child potty, bags of food, and toys.  I installed the car seats while Grandma supervised Bunder running in the grass.  As soon as I finished, I latched Kiki’s infant seat into place, grabbed Bunder, strapped him in, and ran around the van to jump in the passenger’s seat.  I barely had my door closed before I looked over my shoulder to check my precious cargo.  Do you know what I saw?  I saw Bunder eating a chocolate chip cookie.  “What?  Where did he get that?”  I asked.

“He was hungry,” Grandma replied defiantly.

In the time it took me to run around the car, Grandma’s luxuries commenced.  Grandma may be a grandma, but when it comes to cookies and kisses, she’s as fast as lightning.  (I’m referring to real lightning not my pony Lightning that couldn’t gallop to save her life).

While at Grandma’s house, Bunder (in his exuberance for inanimate objects) pointed out the large wall clock in the living room.  Grandma said, “Oh, yes.  That’s Grandma’s special clock.  Do you want to see it?”

Oh, this’ll be interesting, I thought.  Grandma has always been very particular about her antique wall clock.  She picked up Bunder and carried him over to the clock.  “What’s this?” Bunder asked.

“Those are the clock weights.  Do you want to touch them?”  Grandma asked.

“What! “ I proclaimed.  “To this day, I’ve never been allowed to touch that clock, but my two year old son can!  Who is this woman and where did my mother go?”

How can a strict authoritarian turn into a big pile of mush when the first grandbaby arrives?  It’s a real mystery, but in truth – isn’t it wonderful?  I think every child deserves to have a few people in his life who don’t give a lick about spoiling him or disciplining him or doing anything other than loving on him til he can’t breathe.

Thanks, Grandma, for being brave enough to face the hot, HOT Texas heat, and thanks for loving Kiki and Bunder with so much passion.  We can’t wait for your visit!


About Mother Ruckus

Living the dream of motherhood and hoping to survive. View all posts by Mother Ruckus

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