I learned very quickly after having my first child that there's no controlling who your kid will be. This means instead of molding my son to be a pink-wearing-doll-playing feminist, Dylan was born ready to roll in mud, decapitate barbies, and practice sexism. Apparently, all claims I made about how I'd raise "my child," were fulfilled by an opposite reality. And the more confident and boisterous I was about it, the more obnoxiously different the reality was.
My favorite (and least favorite) example of this is when I scoffed at a mom changing her toddler's diaper, declaring that "ew," my child would be potty trained before his first birthday, because, why not? Three years later and my kid twitches if you mention the potty and his diapers are so damn big that they're an online-only item. Yes, things are going as planned. FML.
So throughout my second pregnancy I knew better than to open my cursed mouth. If a "my child" thought came into my head, I put it out like a kitchen fire. My mantra? Don't think it, don't speak it, definitely don't risk it. So when my second child was finally born, I was ready for whatever. But Adrian is so far from "whatever." She's terrifying.
Becoming acquainted with Adrian was no picnic. Sure, I loved her, but she was born demonic and constantly screaming. Every night was the same as the night before: full-blown colic. If you're not familiar with colic, lucky you. It basically means your baby cries inconsolably for reasons unknown and therefore it cannot be stopped. It's a special kind of shit show that I had a VIP ticket to until one day, it just ended. I don't know how or why, but one day Adrian just stopped crying and became the most amazing baby ever.
Yes, that's right. My colic riddled baby went from spawn of Satan to sainthood overnight. And now? I'm terrified. I suddenly find myself with the most easy going little girl. I can take her anywhere and do anything because little Adrian is going to observe quietly and patiently. How did that happen? No idea. Why did it happen? No idea. Will it last? Again, I have no idea. But I'd like it to- she is my dream baby! She's the most perfect little child I could have ever imagined! We have such a good thing going that I don't know if I could bounce back should she revert to the scream fest days.
Trust me, I'm not banking on shit. Having kids has taught me not to count unhatched eggs and to never get too comfortable with today because tomorrow can always LOL all over your face. So should you notice my shoulders tense up while fear washes across my face as you begin singing my insanely well-behaved daughter praises, please know that my reaction is one of a true believer in the law of jinx, and I therefore have no comment.