Hey... Can you keep a secret? Yesterday marked my one month anniversary with my new adopted parents. I didn't make a big deal about it because I don't want to distract them from the task at hand. They have enough things to worry about... believe me.
It's been a strange, yet fulfilling journey so far. I've learned a little bit about them but a whole lot more about myself. My true personality is starting to come through. I'm beginning to act like a normal 1 year old kid at home with his parents, instead of some visiting stranger that's always on his best behavior. What I'm saying is that the gloves are off now baby and these two rookies are getting a full dose of the real me. 100% Esteban with no added preservatives.
My tantrums come quick and they come hard. They come without warning and without mercy. They last as long as they need to. Sometimes it's a quick flash that lasts only 30 seconds and sometimes they can go for an agonizing 15 minutes.
It really depends who I'm dealing with. Mommy has more experience and she knows that there is no reasoning or bargaining with a 12 month old. She's quick to swoop me up into her arms and then proceeds to sweet talk me back into a state of goo-goo-ga-ga bliss. Daddy... on the other hand... prefers to test my limits. Call it inexperience, call it machismo... whatever. He sits there with me on the floor while I'm screaming my head off and refuses to give in to me. He just stares at me and tries to wait me out. When Mommy asks him exactly what he is trying to accomplish, he tells her "Jedi Mind Trick".
That isn't the only difference that I've noticed between them. Take feeding time, for example. Mommy talks to me the whole time when she does it. She asks me if I like it, if I'm full, if I love her. Daddy prefers to play music. He says it's important that I learn what really good music is before I get brainwashed by my friends at school. He plays mostly Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Eagles. My faves from Zepellin are when the levee breaks, Babe I'm gonna leave you and ramble on. Wish you were here is, by far, the best Pink Floyd album ever and you can't go wrong with Eagles greatest hits albums 1 and 2.
Mommy is a natural at putting me to sleep. She gives me my bottle while simultaneously rocking me into a coma. Daddy prefers to use a wide variety of artificial stimulation. Swing chairs, strollers... he's even been known to put me in the car and drive me around a little bit in that stupid child safety seat. I swear that man has no shame... and no game.
Individually, these two couldn't be more different. But as a unit they work pretty well together. All in all I feel like I did pretty good with this adoption. Let me tell you, I could have ended up with a lot worse. I know a kid who didn't read the fine print on his contract and ended up adopting a 2 mile stretch of the Santa Monica Freeway (insert drum riff and cymbal crash here). Thank you very much folks... I'll be here all week.
ANATOMY OF A TANTRUM
Good morning parental unit... what's that you say? You wish for me to bathe my body?
Hmm... I don't think that I am in complete agreement with that notion.
So I believe I will demonstrate my displeasure by crying and screaming loudly... right in your face!
And some of that!
I don't care what you say... I will NOT bathe! Never, ever, ever!
Ok... the word never can be defined in many ways...