Happy Birthday, Squid

Poor Squid.

Back in the beginning, when he was still firmly ensconced in my uterus and was making me toss my cookies all over Orange County, he was featured heavily on this blog.

Then, when his lazy butt lingered FOREVER in my uterus and I went over two weeks overdue, I wrote about him all the time.

Then I gave birth.

And the Squid disappeared from this blog.


Oh, sure, his name appeared from time to time, but never as much as DragonMonkey's.  He became a bit player - it was almost like this became "The DragonMonkey Blog", and the Squid was just one of the props we featured from time to time.

There was a reason for that.

How the heck am I supposed to come up with a funny story out of a baby that sits around doing this all day?

From a writing perspective, it was just plain easier to write about the DragonMonkey.

You want proof?

I give you exhibit A:
 
This is a one hour car ride - and these photos were taken at the same time (well, seconds apart.)






                         The Squid.
               Cool.  Calm.  Happy.
So chilled out he looks borderline stoned.   The DragonMonkey.  No description necessary.


One of these photos is a cute picture.  One of these photos can be turned into a funny blog post.  'Nough said.

Squid was the baby that everyone wishes they had.  He came out smiling:

and it just got better from there.

 He looked like a muppet, didn't he?  A happy muppet.

Squid made parenting seem so simple.  It was such a relief after the DragonMonkey. 

Everything made Squid happy.  Everything.

Yaaay!  I'm a baby!

Yaay!  I'm sitting in a Bumbo!

Yaay!  I have a mohawk!

Yaay!  I'm a quarter Mexican!

Yaay!  I'm a present!

Yaay!  I have "teeth"!

Even when he was unhappy, he still managed to look cute.

Not yaay.  We hates real teeth.

Stories about the Squid were adorable, but boring.



"I came home from work, and the Squid smiled at me.  

Then I put down my purse and picked him up, and he smiled wider.  

Then I nursed him, and when I was done, he smiled at me.  

Then I set him down on the ground on a blanket, and he smiled at the carpet."



He made for a wonderful child, but a boring blog entry.

 

Just chillin'.  It's what Squids do best.

I'm glad I had the boys in the order I did.  If I'd had Squid first I would have been one of those smug moms, offering unsolicited advice to the struggling moms with their ill-behaved children.  "All you have to do is [insert annoying advice]," I would have said haughtily.  "Then you can have a baby just like this."  And Squid probably would have smiled peacefully on command. 

I know the secret now.  The secret is that the kids pop out with their own personality, and while you can mold them to a certain extent and teach them basic manners, you're pretty much stuck with what you got.

The older Squid got, the more we appreciated what we were "stuck with".

 

We taught our one year old to bring us beer and the remote control.  Parenting at its finest.

Stairs are not our friend.

 

No, I don't care how big you make your eyes, you may NOT eat marshmallows for breakfast.

Slightly grubby and smiling - his natural state.

 

Squid, even when you were "bad", you weren't really that bad.

Anyways, this blog entry is for you, Squid.  One day, when you're older, you're going to find my blog, and you're going to read through it and wonder why all I ever talked about was your big brother.

Now you know why.  You were just too good.

Now if we could just keep you from flushing stuff down the toilet, you'd be absolutely perfect.

Happy Birthday, Squid.

You're two years old today, and I can't wait to see the man you grow up to become.