It’s a strange role when you find yourself in the position of being a human toy. For the past 5 months, I’ve succumbed to my new position. Here in the throws of a growing baby, who’s constantly testing my loyalty to him, his agenda, and his increasing appetite, I feel a bit on auto pilot. It’s peculiar, since I’ve never been marked as The Toy before.
My dad has been recently calling me “The Toy” when it comes to my little kiddo’s attachment to me. He’ll reluctantly go to others, but if I’m anywhere near him, he cries and reaches for me. While he loves his dad, he’ll only give him his attention for some time. In the end, Mama needs to make an appearance. Remember how Woody and all the other toys in Toy Story would collapse once they heard Andy on his way to the room? Yup, that’s me. Raggedy doll, only here to do my kid’s bidding.
This does not bode well for my professional life as a blogger. It’s difficult to type with one hand, while holding a 23 pound baby in the other. The same goes for our homeschooling. I thank God that I was smart enough to buy curriculums at the beginning of the year. They have kept us on track, and I can easily read from a book while rocking a baby.
Side note — yes, Baby Frugal is 23 pounds at 5 months. It’s like living with a mini chocolate-covered version of The Staypuft Marshmallow Man.
As I was saying, my writing has suffered, and I haven’t had time to create awesomely delicious frugal meals, let alone make them for my family. Toys don’t cook, right?
It’s just been interesting this time around, when it comes to motherhood. Baby Frugal is nothing like his siblings, who has no qualms chilling out in their ExerSaucer, swings and playmats. He’s a different breed.
The best part is that I know this is all temporary. Kids get tired of toys and move on to the next thing, eventually. That’ll be the case here. For the sake of my sanity, I kind of hope it’s soon.