I used to think the sound of military range fire was soothing. Living on post, it was very frequent that I would be lulled to sleep by the ‘sound of freedom’. It was amusing when non-military guests would wake up jarred, wondering if we were under attack. Now that I live a 15-20 minute driving distance from a range and my toddler’s naps have been interrupted by the range noise for the past 3 days, it is NOT so amusing.
Today I put my sleepy toddler down for a nap, sat down to check e-mail, and suddenly I heard the exact sounds that struck fear into every movie-goer in 1993. (Yes, it’s been almost 20 years. Yes, we’re old.)
The windows rattled, a deep boom crashed, and then a small child cried out. When your child hasn’t napped in days, the faint cry of a child who is no longer napping sounds a bit more like a roar.
Welcome to Jurassic Park. (Roar!) It’s a wonderful world of parenting where the unexpected and inexplicable happen every day. I can’t recall how many times Firstborn has done something unexpected, leaving grandparents laughing and Hubby and I looking a bit like this:
Just yesterday as I swept the floor, I watched my son reach up to the garage door, turn the long door handle, pull, and successfully open the door. My son, the raptor. Clever boy. Never mind what the kitchen looks like when he gets done stomping through it.
Sadly, that makes me the t-rex. Today I tried to balance a child on my now non-existent hip while spreading peanut butter. I also have to turn to the side so I can reach the counter without an over-the-belly Frankenstein extension. It makes me feel that my arms are much too short for my body. Yes, Jeff Goldbloom… “Mommy’s very angry.”
Another applicable Jurassic Park lesson:Running top-speed to the bathroom is a sure-fire way to invite unwanted guests to join you. Just an hour ago I rushed to the powder room for a quick potty break. My son turned the handle, opened the bathroom door, threw a ball into the bathroom, and quickly shut the door as if throwing a grenade. It’s not getting eaten by an extinct predator, but it was still a bit unsettling.
Likewise, my lower half is much larger these days. When I walk into the Labor and Delivery next month I am sure I will be lumbering in tyrannosaurus style, much like Sandra Bullock’s character in Miss Congeniality. Reference Michael Caine: “I haven’t seen a walk like that since Jurassic Park”. Then there’s the lovely last t-rex scene where the ‘living’ dinosaur crashes through its skeletal representation. I find that to be a fitting representation of “society’s expectation for my appearance” vs. “reality”. Crashing through too-small depictions of what I might have looked like long ago? Oh yes, sign this t-rex up.
Perhaps I don’t have actual dinosaurs running around the house, but if today has had a theme it is certainly, “Life finds a way”. Any parent who has raised a toddler can confirm this. If once-cool parents who could overcome all obstacles, had sound theories on life, and had it all together are put into a confined area with small children and suddenly our Jurassic Park adventure feels like this:
The impossible happens every day. As Son #2 is stomping on my hip and back nerve, I think I’ll let Jeff Goldbloom wrap this up for me and grab a snack. It’s pretty appropriate for this house full of testosterone and defied odds.
“ Life can not be contained. Life breaks free! It expands to new territories, crashes through barriers- painfully at times, maybe even dangerously but- well, there it is…life finds a way.” From childbirth to the adventures of the every day, in this house life does find a way. It’s a wonderful once-in-a-lifetime experience that just might kill us all.