FREEDOM AND ACCOUNTABILITY

It had to eventually happen. For weeks the buzz has been over the predicted date. Nonstop speculation has overshadowed every family gathering for at least a month. And finally, yesterday, what everyone has sensed approaching arrived at last. Jake took his first steps!!!

Now, yesterday was not the first moment of steps, per se. Jake's taken the odd random step between furniture as an extension of cruising. However, yesterday Jake took 5 consecutive steps in the living room before finally collapsing on his diapered rump. It was amazing. It was spectacular. It was Jake's finest achievement to date.

And I missed it.

I was in the bedroom putting up the latest batch of clean clothes I'd hauled upstairs. Dan was sitting in the recliner enjoying a book when Jake decided to expend the extra energy to toddle over to see him. I got to hear the joyous raptures of Dan describing the event proudly, and to applaud Jake as he happily beamed up at his Daddy. Was I jealous? Well, let's just say that for a brief moment, the phrase "Daddy's Boy" flickered through my mind with some brief envious overtones.

So, yes, we're all very proud of Jake's achievement. He's always been the baby right on cue. Sometimes I used to think Jake would sneak peeks at the baby books to determine what age he *should* accomplish milestones before attempting them.

But I've had a sudden realization. As Jake becomes more accomplished at walking and talking, I'm going to be more accountable. Babies are given much more leeway than toddlers, when toddlers need it so much more. Mommies toting around fussy babies are given sympathetic looks and helpful advice, because the problem is obviously with the baby himself, and not bad parenting on the mother's fault. When a Mommy is chasing a rampant screaming toddler through the grocery store, people tend to "tsk" and shake their heads. "That lady needs to learn how to control her child better!" Admit it, before parenthood, you know you've at least THOUGHT something similar in such circumstances.

So, I expect to lose more and more control over Jake's behavior over the course of the next year, but to be held more and more liable for said behavior. What a lovely paradox!


FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED

On that note, I've already been busy studying toddler behavior books, just to get an inkling of what's on the horizon. These books are all quick to point out that no child is the same, and that every child goes through the stages of toddlerhood at his own pace and in his own way. So what sense of foreboding causes me to shudder slightly whenever I read about the worst case scenarios? Why am I assuming automatically that my sweet, friendly, social little boy is going to suddenly morph into the aforementioned rampant screaming toddler in the grocery store?

I'll tell you why. I've got the curse. In fact, I happen to be one of the few unique people on this planet to have a double curse: both the Mother's Curse AND the Father's Curse. Both of which are the same simple prophecy: "I hope someday that you have a child exactly like you are!"

Let's just say that I had the kind of childhood that generated hundreds of amusing stories to be told at dinner parties. These are the kind of stories that are gleefully "requested" again by younger siblings and distant relatives that didn't get the dubious pleasure of experiencing the horrors firsthand. "Tell us again about that time that Michelle [insert embarrassing incident here]."

I'm in big trouble.

I think the best coping mechanisms I've been able to devise for the upcoming toddler years is the following simple mantra: Jake is not a finished product; we both still have a lot of learning and growing to do.

I have a feeling I'm going to be repeating this mantra over and over and over the next few years, both to myself and maybe to other grocery shoppers as well.