How to Act in Public

If you don’t know me personally, then you are probably not aware of this fact, but I am a dork.  A Total Dork. I always have been. I am that person in a crowd that is waving like a moron to a person in the distance embarassing people not even with me. I am that person that cracks a joke and laughs like it is the funniest thing on the planet – usually all alone. In second grade, I got in trouble for allowing “my funny box” to turn over. That was code word for laughing hysterically and uncontrollably for apparently no reason. I just get tickled, and I laugh whole belly and whole hearted until it makes me drunk with the sillys. When I took piano lessons in 3rd grade, the teacher told my mother I must be on drugs.  I am silly, goofy, and sometimes totally inappropriate. Today I am wondering what impact this is going to have on my child…

 

 

He waved. Yesterday, my almost 8 month old baby boy waved for the first time.  Even more impressive was how he did it. I like to think I have taught him how to wave at such an early age, because as he plays about in his jumperoo, I wave at him and smile and act like the silly clown that I am. I make it into a show. I really think my kid is too cool for that. Yesterday, his Auntie Ginger was over – yes, again!  Don’tcha love it!! Ginger sat down and waved and said hey to him, and he non-challantly – like he has done it a million times before – raised his little hand, waved it and put it back down. No over-done smile. Not even sitting up or bending forward. It was so cool. Yes, it was neat, but I mean cool like The Fonz cool.

Don’t get me wrong. Cotton, my baby boy, is a smiler and can be super silly just like me. I’ve seen it so many times, but he really only does it when it is just me and him. We totally had a giggle fest the other morning over a bunch of zerberts. It was hilarious. He acted all dramatic and we were rolling. Tears coming out both of our eyes. It was a blast. Then all of a sudden in other company, he’s like super cool guy. He’s like his Dad.

He can’t fool me. At City Market yesterday, he was the kissing bandit.  That’s his new thing. He opens his wet little mouth. Will a full open mouth he sticks his mouth up to your face up to yours, thus covering the said kissee in baby spit and sometimes – I’m not gonna sugar coat it – snot. He was so slimy yesterday, the older lady sitting next to us on the bench politely declined Cotton’s attempts to suck her face. I really can’t blame her.

He doesn’t just kiss you either.  Sometimes he gets all into it, arches his little back, puts his hands on the back of your head and pulls you to him – forcefully with a little animal growl. “I am man!” And he is freakishly strong. I sometimes feel violated. It can be brutal, especially if his hands contain patches of hair or you ears. Cotton kissed Nancy this way yesterday. A dominating – you will be mine sort of kiss. I was frantically trying to pull fist fulls of her hair away from his little meaty hands.  By the time, I could rescue her, she was covered in slober and yes, again, snot. Plus I am sure her head was throbbing from the pulling of her hair. That is not appropriate.

How am I supposed to teach my child how to act in public, when I can’t even pull it off? I am hoping, fingers crossed, that his first wave is some indication that he has some hope in life – some hope of not being a total social weirdo. Maybe his father’s coolness and ability to not gain the attention of everyone in a restaurant when he laughs will be strong in this child. Oh, Lord, please don’t let me mess up my kid this early on.

Ha!

Until Tomorrow,
Rachel