Sulligan's Island

This time, 11 years ago, I was waiting anxiously for 10 pounds of baby to leave my body. I was 19, just barely, and pretty much scared to death. I read & absorbed every miniscule article of information on the subject of how to be a parent until I was an unbearable fountain of knowledge regarding everything that posed a horrible threat to a baby. I had all the necessary baby life saving props that are marketed directly to freaking out people who are about to experience the miracle of having their own heart ripped directly from their chests and handed to them for safekeeping for the next 18+ years (provided they purchase all of the latest baby life preservers and are sure to bawl out anyone who even suggests that they might know what they're doing.. as if... all of THAT information is an outdated dangerous trick being played on current in-the-know-parents by bitter grandparents who wish harm on children).

Anyhow, he arrived. He survived my ultra paranoid parenting style for the first few years, he even got babysat once as an infant (I provided an actual booklet of how to look after him for 2 hours while I went to a movie, then didn't enjoy the movie at all because I was sure that the apartment building would come crashing down or the babysitter might try to give him a baby cookie, then not watch him with an acceptable level of attentiveness).

So I've had other babies and I think my paranoia level has subsided to a reasonable extent. In fact, I refuse to even look in a parenting book unless it's one that describes an actual rash that is on my child- because too many parenting books will ruin your life. There is no horror book on this earth with a more sombre thread of fear mongering than current parenting books. Michael Moore be damned.

Anyhow, I digress. The point is that he made it and what would I ever do without him? Happy birthday to my 11 year old. Luckily he is oblivious enough to the amount of terror heaped upon me the day the hospital handed him to me and told me to take him home. ME?!?!??????? Are you sick in the HEAD???

Anyhow, this morning he got a new pokemon game for his nintendo ds thingy and a book and a superduper automatic nerf dart weapon... so he's all good. I just hope the ds doesn't explode and render him disfigured for the rest of his life... Or that being exposed to a toy gun instills a sense of weapons being fun, landing him in prison later with all of the other criminals who were given nerf weapons of mass destruction as children.... or the book gives him a paper cut on his eye. We have to think of these things.