Baby Eating

Recently Odessa has been getting pregnant a lot and consequently having babies. Her gestation period ranges from a day or so to a few seconds(“Oh, my baby’s out now!”). Serena will say something like, “Oh that’s so sweet, can I hold it?” Odessa will say, “Sure!” and hand the baby over, Serena will cradle it, and we’ll all have a moment.

And a couple weeks ago a scenario like that played out. Odessa birthed a child, and I asked to hold it. Except, and this really should come as absolutely no surprise to those who know me, instead of cradling this invisible and presumably wonderful miracle of pretend life, I put it in my mouth and ate it. Much to the non-imagined horror of my daughter, I might add.

Everything has cooled down in the weeks following and Odessa, resilient young woman that she is, keeps squirting out babies. But now if I ask to hold one she will always ask, “Are you going to eat it?” To which I always reply yes. Then she smiles(apparently time heals all wounds) and declines my request. My grandchildren are forbidden fruit.

But we have learned something about the extent to which she values (pretend) human life. While playing with her up in her room she quite impressively gave birth to ten babies, right there on the spot without breaking a sweat. I asked if I could hold them. She, of course, asked if I was going to eat them. I, of course, indicated that I would. She said no. But then I said, “You’ve got ten, how about I eat just one of your babies?” She thought about this for a few seconds, smiled, and said, “Ok.”

Halloween and Odessa’s 4th Birthday

Odessa recently celebrated her fourth birthday. As a parent who has become well acquainted with the universally known truth that “They Grow Up So Fast,” it would satisfy a certain sense of logic if I were therefore also experiencing dismay at this prospect. However, the fourth birthday really didn’t have any major impact upon me in that way at all. Yet woe be to me, and more so to anyone unfortunate enough to be in earshot of me, when the day comes that she enters elementary school. But for now everything’s just peachy.

It stood to follow that Odessa had her annual checkup with her doctor. When I took her there, everything went as it normally does until they told me something that was completely unexpected, and, to me, was really quite startling; perhaps enhanced just by the casualness of its disclosure. Almost in passing, I was told that Odessa’s projected height as an adult was 5’3″. I don’t know how they know that, or how accurate it will eventually prove to be, but it was a very strange thing for me to hear.

Here’s the thing: Of course I’ve thought about the future and what my kids will be like. But in the pictures of the future in my head, my children are always a good six to eight inches taller than I. I know that makes no sense, but you’ll forgive me for naturally thinking this way because everyone I meet on planet Earth is at least six to eight inches taller than I. I’m used to looking up at people. So what should be obvious was not. I just then realized that Odessa is going to be a short woman. I started to get emotional in the doctor’s office. But before it showed I started talking about trucks and payload and torque.

Leo is doing well. His walking is improving and he can cross an obstacle-free room with little difficulty if he is so inclined. Comparing him to Odessa is a favorite pastime. They both started walking around the same time, Odessa at the end of ten months and Leo at the end of nine months. Odessa was capable of walking earlier, but was afraid to take her first steps. When she finally did, she mastered walking quickly. Leo fears nothing, but wants for skill. He’s just not that good. But he keeps on trying, and as I have said, he is improving. Perhaps the bruises on his head will diminish.

We went trick-or-treating last night. Serena made penguin costumes for Odessa and me, and Leo dressed up like a pumpkin. Serena herself did not have a costume and thus, with an admittedly mild amount of humor, I declared that she was going as a stick in the mud for Halloween. Odessa thought this was hilarious and referred to her as “Mommy stick in dirt” for the remainder of the evening. On the sweeter side of things, completely unprompted, she started calling me “Daddy penguin,” and I am not afraid to admit that it melted my heart. She was quite consistent in calling me that for the rest of the night as well. “Mommy stick in dirt” is much more amusing, however.