The Story of Two

Thursday night was the first night since going back to work that Eddie and I have been left alone together.

Cort had class, so he left right around 5:00pm and Eddie cried.  He clung to the gate and banged on the front window as he watched his daddy--his majority-of-the-time caretaker leave him.

And then he looked at me.

And cried harder.  nice.

So I thought I would make him dinner. some fruit, a couple raw veggies and a nice grilled pizza sandwich (it's like a grilled cheese, but with pizza stuff.  So like a hobo pie, but not over a fire.  Get it?).

While I am trying to heat the pan and assemble the food, Eddie feels the need to be all underfoot and in the way.  Then he tries to "help" by turning the knobs on the gas stove.  Sigh...

So I reach in the baking tools drawer and hand him one of those rubber spatulas that you use to scrape the last bit of brownie batter out of the bowl to get in your mouth the pan.  He happily toddles away with it feeling oh so important that I entrusted him with a kitchen tool.

I go back to the pizza sandwiches at hand.  I get his going and I cut up the rest of his dinner.  Then I go to flip his and he is right back under my feet again!

So I mumble, "Ok Ed, come on.  Where is your..."

And then I see it.

The Spatula.  Or...the remains of it.

At this point I scoop up the spatula, the boy, and the phone and frantically calmly dial my parents' phone number.

After I get my mom on the phone, this conversation unfolds:

Me: OHMYGOD, MOM!  Eddie just ate ATE a rubber spatula!  What do I do?  Is he going to get sick?  Will he die?  MOM, WHAT DO I DO?!?!

Mom: What?

Me: You know.  those rubber spatulas for baking?  Eddie took BITES...WHOLE BITES...out of one I let him play with!

Mom: I am sure he's fine.  I mean, they're food-safe and all.

Me: MOM!  It's RUBBER!  In his little tummy?  You don't think he's going to get sick?

(meanwhile Eddie is on my hip totally happy to be held and not caring about the spatula or the crazy freak-out his mother has become)

Mom: I am sure it will be just like when aunt Sandy ate a quarter and grandma had to watch her poop.  It will be fine.

(at this point I spot specks on the carpet).

Me: I think I just found some on the floor.  Maybe he didn't swallow it. UGGG.  My first night with him alone and he EATS A SPATULA!  This is why we can't have nice things!  So do you think he didn't swallow it?

Mom:  Well, probably not.  I am sure it didn't taste good, so he spit it out.

Me: Then why did he continue to TAKE BITES?

(now my mom is laughing so hard she can barely speak.  This is our relationship.  I freak out?  She gets her giggles in for the day).

Mom: (in between bouts of riotous laughter) Who knows?  He's a KID!  You ate everything.  Your crib, Little People, THE CAR.

Me: ...

Mom: (is still laughing.  and? I can  hear my dad chuckling in the background too.)

Me: I have to go finish his dinner.  So you think he'll be fine.

Mom:  (starting to laugh all over again) yes.

So I made Eddie's dinner.   He ate like a champ.  I threw away the stupid spatula that was so funny and thought about how Eddie eats everything too.  His crib (my mom had three of us in that crib of hers.  I was the only one to eat it), his little people, the spatula.  I shook my head.

Fast forward to bedtime. 

I have gathered the little guy (who showed no signs of being bothered by the spatula-eating.  Nor did he show remorse.  Hmmm)  and we headed to the rocking chair.

I watched as he curled in against me and took his lamby up close to his face.

He found the lamby's ear and held it between his finger and thumb (while never letting go of the body of the lamby with his other hand).  He started rubbing the ear between his finger and thumb and pulled it right up under his nose.

Just like I used to do.

After about 15 minutes of rocking (5 to get him to sleep and 10 just for me to cuddle him), I set him in his bed.  And I just stood there for a couple minutes.

In his sleep he rolled and pulled his blanket up to his nose and got on his stomach/side and kicked his legs out so that he was sprawled as far out as he could be.

I chuckled at what a little bed hog he is.

Just like me.

I'm told by almost everyone we see how much he LOOKS like his daddy.  He is so similar to what Cort looked like at this age:  blond curly hair, big squishy cheeks, small little kissable mouth.

But it's the small moments when I realize this little Sluiter boy?  Is his momma's boy all the way.

He is loud, demanding, controlling, snuggley, kind, and loving.

And he is my little Eddie Bear.

We are quite the pair.