Posts tagged feet
A couple days ago, Nathan and I hung out with my friend (who we’ll call T). We went out to lunch together, and while we were eating, we reminisced about another time we ate lunch together, after which we went on a quest to find a playground for Nathan.
I can’t believe I never blogged about this.
So anyway, we found one of those indoor playgrounds in a fast food restaurant. From the outside, the play space looked massive. It beckoned to us, looming over us at about two stories tall. So we hauled Nathan out of his carseat and into the restaurant.
As soon as I opened the door to the play space and looked around, my heart sank. Yeah, the play space was two stories tall, but it was NARROW. The room it was in was maybe 12 ft x 12 ft, with the play space taking up a good portion of it… leaving an available space of about 12 ft x 4 ft. And the play space was completely vertical. There were a number of ledges arranged in step-formation for kids to shimmy up, but there is no way an adult could because there was only about a foot of space available to squeeze through in order to climb to the next ledge. Someone like me would get stuck. It was a safety hazard if you ask me.
Of course, the kids all had to take their shoes off to play, so the smell of dirty feet permeated the tiny enclosure. There was no air conditioning or any air flow whatsoever, so it was stuffy and stale, which only exacerbated the dirty feet smell.
I sat on one of the benches and tried not to touch anything. My friend T appeared to be just as uncomfortable as me, but we couldn’t just leave. No, once you take a two-year-old into a play area, you cannot just turn around and leave unless you’re wanting to experience the apocalypse.
I couldn’t let Nathan climb the contraption because he’s so little, if he got hurt, I would have not be able to squeeze my way through the ledges to help him. Nathan, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to the stale air and dirty feet smell. And even though I wouldn’t let him climb the play thingy, he just ran around that tiny little enclosure, clapped his hands, and had a ball.
In fact, he was running so hard and enjoying himself so much that he quit paying attention and ran right smack-dab INTO A WINDOW. Just like how you see in the cartoons, with his little arms and legs splayed out. He kinda bounced off it, rubbed his head, but shook it off like it was nothing.
Another gross thing about the play space is there were a number of kids in there, and at least two of them were sick. One had a nasty, hacking cough and the other had a disgusting, snotty nose. You know, complete with those gross snot bubbles. And she was constantly wiping her mucus faucet with her hand and then she would TOUCH everything.
What made it even worse was her mother came in there once and was all like, Oh look at your poor little nose, my sweet sick little baby, blah blah blah. And I’m thinking to myself, CAN YOU NOT SEE YOUR KID IS SPREADING THE MUCUS PLAGUE ALL OVER THE PLACE??
My left eye actually twitched a little over the mom’s obtuse complacency. I mean, who can be so oblivious to others that they let their snot-bubble spewing kid sow their noxious germs into the porous plastics where said germs will fester and possibly mutate into an ULTRA MUCUS PLAGUE and other kids will then pick them up and spread the love? Who does that? SATAN??
Can you imagine the self control it took for me to not yank my child out of there?
I just didn’t have the heart to. Nathan loves being around other kids and was having a blast just running around. We stayed for about an hour, and let me tell you, when we finally left, FRESH AIR NEVER FELT SO GOOD.
No, not a good place for a mom like me who is trying really hard to control her OCD tendencies. Needless to say, I sanitized the shit out of Nathan’s hands once we left and fortunately, he didn’t get sick from the episode. Lesson learned. It will probably be a long, long, LONG time before I take my child back to one of those indoor play spaces. My friend and I were so dismayed… it felt like we were tricked. I mean, from the outside, it was so big and inviting… It was like a bait-and-switch, and we were very disappointed.
I’ve talked about Nathan and his monkey feet here… and guess what? He is STILL Mr. Monkey Feet. This is how Nathan typically has his feet when he’s sitting in his highchair. He can never just sit still; his little feet are constantly tapping the underside of the tray, looking for something to latch onto. Being the little monkey feet that they are, I am not surprised.
And when his feet aren’t latched onto the tray, they’re politely crossed at the ankles, resting for a moment. I still kiss those little baby feet. I can’t help myself. Because it won’t be long before I won’t be able to anymore.
HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!!
This time last year, I was 39 weeks pregnant and ready to meet my little guy! Little did I know that he would actually arrive SIX DAYS after his estimated due date. (Exactly why it’s ESTIMATED, right?) An extra six days may seem like a walk in the park to some of you Mega Moms… but me? Me, I was in agony. That was six extra days of bloating, back pain, insomnia, waddling, swollen ankles, and achy bones. Even my TOENAILS were in pain.
Valentine’s Day ’09
Seriously, I don’t see how some of you do it. You make pregnancy look so easy and… fun! But for me, during the first four months, I was so weak that it put even a bad case of the flu to shame. I didn’t have the energy to WIPE OFF THE COUNTERS.
That’s some serious fatigue.
But hey. It takes a lot of energy to GROW A LUNG, right?
And oh, the morning sickness. I couldn’t keep anything down. Nothing. I remember before I could even get out of bed in the mornings, Paul had to bring me a glass of apple juice and some saltines. And he was not allowed to jostle the bed. And yes, that included NO WIGGLING HIS TOES.
The morning sickness was so over-the-top vicious that just the SOUND of someone farting made me throw up. Seriously. Whenever I heard someone fart, even if they were in the other room, I would puke. And everything, I mean EVERY. THING. made me gag. But not just a regular old gag. No, I would gag like I was about to projectile-puke up a massive hairball. WHO DOES THAT?? Well, folks. Apparently I do when I am pregnant.
And get this. I would throw up and the very sight of it would make me throw up even more… so before you knew it, I was on this vicious cycle of throwing up, which made me throw up, which made me throw up… so yeah, I was in the bathroom constantly. It was becoming my second home.
Then there was the second trimester. It was easier than the first for me because the extreme fatigue and nausea finally subsided when I was about 18 weeks pregnant… but then the body aches started. And I had this uncontrollable urge to thoroughly clean and reorganize the entire house.
Only I had this intense back pain that only abated when I wore HEELS.
As in, HIGH HEELS.
So here I was, in my second trimester with a bulging belly and sweat pants (because you know how important comfort is to pregnant women) and high heels, cleaning the kitchen.
The third trimester?
IT FELT LIKE DEATH.
Oh, the pain. Pain, pain, pain. Every single step I took was agony. My feet were swollen. My toes cramped a lot. And my back? It felt like someone had jammed a hot poker into my lower back and left it there, jostling it every couple of minutes for some extra oomph. And constant peeing. The most sleepless night I ever had, I got up to pee nine times..
NINE TIMES. IN ONE NIGHT.
But you know what? Even though I had a painful pregnancy that was nothing like the giddyness that I had imagined, I wouldn’t give any of that up for anything, though. My little guy is so worth it! And I would go through all of that and worse just to have him here with me. And I know there are so, so many women out there who would give anything to be able to get pregnant. I am very fortunate… and all the “negatives” about pregnancy just give me something to joke about later.
Nathan has been endearingly nicknamed Mr. Monkey Feet. I’ve talked about it here, where I described his discovery of his legs and feet and how he loves to attempt to eat himself. I love watching him play… he kicks his little legs and feet all over the place. He must love the sensitivity his feet have because he just HAS to touch everything with them… his toys, his face, the speckles of dust in the air… he even attempts to pick things up with his toes.
Once he intertwined his toes in such a way that they got stuck.
He strained to pull them apart.
They finally came apart with such force that it scared him.
He drew his feet up to his face, suspiciously eying them like he was wondering how his own feet could dare to betray him like that.
He even strains to touch my face with his inquisitive little toes when I’m breastfeeding him. Which, by the way, is getting harder and harder. His arms flap around in one direction and his feet are constantly seeking something to contact. It’s like he has four antennae constantly waving around, feeling his surroundings.
It can be quite annoying.
But breastfeeding dilemmas aside, it’s really amusing watching him play because he’ll lay on his back and will pass objects from hand to foot… and sometimes he’ll just rest his hands and let his feet do all the playing.
He’s my Mr. Monkey Feet.