At first they don’t do much and you root for them to learn how to roll over, sit up, and crawl. And as soon as they do, you realize how good you had had it up until that point. Years fly by in a constant battle of wits as you try to stay one step ahead of your child’s curiosity and propensity to injure him- or herself. No matter how much you baby-proof the house, it’s a given that, even at one or two years old, your child will outsmart you and figure out how to inflict some self-damage. Three years into our so-called suicide watch with Munchkin, he’s just upped the ante.
Posts tagged ‘toddler’
We planned to wait right up to S’s due date to start explaining to Munchkin that he was about to become a big brother. The little man put those plans to rest with his usual mix of cheerful guilelessness and unanticipated perspicacity, sparking a series of hilarious conversations in the process.
“Why is it that every time we visit you something crazy happens?” mused D’s mom with a touch of fatalism. In Ecuador, where D served in the Peace Corps, protesters shut down the country’s major highway during D’s parents’ visit. Violent clashes between protesters and the police took place in a small town in the Amazonia quite literally minutes after D had turned the rental car around to head back to Quito. In Kenya, we also were forced into changing our travel plans on the fly during D’s parents’ visit when we came upon a roadblock and, predictably, angry protesters about to clash with the police. In Rwanda, on the other hand, our misadventures were entirely self-inflicted.
Victoria Falls was an afterthought – a last-minute addition to our itinerary on the way back from Namibia to Rwanda. We had to fly through Zambia anyway, so we figured we should tack on a visit to one of the world’s most famous waterfalls since we were going to be in the neighborhood anyway.
“Do you like rollercoasters?” our driver asked as he crested to the top of an impressive sand dune. “Yes!” we said in unison. “No!” protested S’s mom. “Oh shit!” added our toddler from the backseat as the car completed its slow, vertical descent and the driver gunned the engine to rocket up the next dune.
Ancient deserts, incredible birds and wildlife, the peace and quiet of a sparsely populated landscape – there were many reasons why Namibia seemed an attractive travel destination. Stumbling across the stunning images of Deadvlei as we researched possible routes for our trip sealed the deal.
We sometimes wonder what goes through our young son’s head during our travels. He won’t remember these early trips – the ten European countries he visited before his second birthday, the African safaris and boat trips, the sojourns in New England to visit his grandparents – but does he enjoy these travels in the moment?
Parenthood is a bittersweet experience. The highs are vertiginous. Feeling loved, needed, and cherished by a tiny human who depends on you for his everything brings indescribable joy. The lows can by dismal. It’s not the whining, screaming, and kicking, nor the nights of sleepless exhaustion that leave the deepest scars. It’s the fickle rejection. Crafty little monsters that they are, from a young age children intuit our weakest pressure points and exploit them mercilessly. Loving one moment, distant the next. Few things sting quite as much as watching your child snuggle someone else while he tells you that you are not his friend or screams bloody murder if you want to give him a hug and kiss.