death wish

In the last two days, William has jumped off his bed into a headboard, been crushed by Ivy's dresser/changing table, fallen down the stairs (twice!), slammed his fingers in various doors, windows and chests, been run over by a kid car, and just generally done his best to court serious bodily harm.

it's basically all I can manage to keep him alive.

so. since I am once again in the midst of helping my mother with wedding stuff, and since she absolutely loves being reminded of this story (hi, mom!), I thought we'd take a little stroll down memory lane. this was originally written September 2005, three months after Michael was born, then posted November 2005 with the addendum, and I do solemnly swear that every word here was reproduced with unparalleled accuracy:

The Nose and the Crazy are Genetic:

*ring ring*

me: Hi Mom.

mom: Lizzie! How did you know it was me?

me: your name and number show up on my phone when you call.

mom: really! Every time?

me: every time.

mom: I should get caller ID on my phone.

me: ... Mom, how long have you had a cell phone?

mom: It doesn't happen on mine.

me: yes, it does.

mom: I don't think it does.

me: It does. I swear.

mom: Well, sometimes the number shows up, but never anyone's name.

me: that's because you have to put the names in your phonebook.

mom: my what?

me: your phone ... you know what? it doesn't matter. So, what's up?

mom: Well, I've been thinking ...

me: uh-huh ...

mom: how much more pregnancy weight do you have to lose?

me: whu?

mom: are you a lot overweight or just a little?

me: I'm not overweight!

mom: you're back to your normal weight?

me: mm, not quite.

mom: and you don't think you need to lose weight?

me: well, I do now!

mom: no ... I didn't mean that I think you need to lose weight. I just had this idea.

me: yes?

mom: Maybe I could help motivate you.

me: motivate me?

mom: I could give you money. or buy you clothes! you like clothes.

me: I do like clothes. but let me get this straight: you don't think I need to lose weight.

mom: yes.

me: but you want to help motivate me to do so.

mom: right.

me: by giving me money or clothes.

mom: exactly.

me: wow. Never what you think it's going to be!

mom: what?

me: carry on.

mom: I was just reading this book about a woman who had several kids and began eating all the time to cope with stress, and sometime after her youngest was born she was one hundred pounds overweight. Then she began walking, lost it all and ran a marathon.

me: so ... you want me to run marathons?

mom: no. I just want you to be healthy.

me: I just want you to know nothing about this conversation is healthy.

mom: I'm not trying to make you feel bad; I just worry about how you're adjusting to home life. This lady talks so much about how hard life was being 100 pounds overweight.

me: but I'm not 100 pounds overweight!

mom: Alright, I'm sorry. I just want you to be happy.

me: I know. Thanks.

*pause*

me: so ... still want to buy me clothes?

An Addendum:
Yesterday, I was helping my mom with wedding preparations and she looked at me and said, "Have you been losing weight?"
"Uh ... I don't think so," I replied.
"Well, don't. Don't lose any more weight," she said urgently.
"Okay," I said.
"I just finished reading a book about anorexia, and it's so terrible," she said.

Seriously, someone has got to take away that woman's books. They're giving me a complex.