Wednesday, August 12, 2009


When you have a child who is a Demon Baby, you spend most of every day teetering on the edge of disaster. You grow eyes in the back of your head. Your every nerve is attuned to when the house gets quiet . . . too quiet. You march up and down stairs sending the little guy to time out. Your ears seem to have sonar so you can pick up when he says naughty words. You hear a lot of crashes. A lot of things get broken.

So I try, every day, to find many moments to praise when he tries to be helpful. When he is sweet. Or quiet. Or learns something new. I would far rather notice the GOOD things than only scold the naughty. And at night, we have our whispered prayer time in the dark.

Last night, as I snuggled next to him, I ran my hand across his forehead. I decided to tell him a story. About him.

"You know . . . I used to pray for you. Before you were EVER in my belly, I wanted to have a baby, and I prayed that God would send me you. Exactly you." [Aside . . . all right, so not EXACTLY a wild, always-naked Demon Baby, but yes, exactly him.]


"Yes. You are so loved. And I carried you inside for nine months and couldn't wait to meet you and I have loved you so much for every moment since."

"You should have asked God for TWO of me."

"A twin?"

"Yeah.'" [Aside, both my sisters have sets of twins, and in fact, I had PRAYED for twins, but in the Universe's infinite wisdom, there is only ONE Demon Baby.]

"You know, my little angel, I have to tell you that I really think I could only handle ONE of you."

"But two of me would be so much better."

"No. Just one special little boy."

"But if you had two, there would be two of me to love you twice as much."

And at that, I just said, "No one could be that lucky." And I meant it.


pita-woman said...


Erica Orloff said...

I know. Such sweetness.

Cheryl Kauffman said...

Beautifully written. When I was pregnant with my son, I was going to have twins. Unfortunately, I miscarried one. I feel grateful that at least my son was born healthy, but I still feel like someone is missing.

Erica Orloff said...

I know a couple of women that happened to, and all say the same thing. That's it's impossible not to think of.

I REALLY wanted twins. Or triplets even. I was over 40 and knew there was no chance of having one after him. So I always wanted 5, 6, 7 kids, so I wished (!!!) for twins. My sister was preggers with twins (and ALL THREE were born on the exact same day--my poor parents waiting for news of three grandchildren on one day!). And I felt a twinge of sadness when it wasn't twins. But then he is SUCH a handful there is no way I'd have ANY sanity with two.

Melanie Avila said...

That is so sweet. :)

My sister lost a twin with her first pregnancy. She was only 17 so she looked at it as God only giving her as much as she could handle.

Nadine said...

Adorable!! I love it!

Robin said...

He's so sweet! I love how confident he is in his own wonderfulness. I hope he carries that through his entire life. You should be really proud of giving him that secure sense of self. Tell the snotty moms in your neighborhood to put that in their pipes and smoke it.

Natasha Fondren said...

Okay, second place I've been tonight where Robin made me crack up, LOL! I'll just say ditto to Robin's comment. :-)

I dream of triplets. I know it doesn't work like this biologically (but my dreams have no basis in science), but Glenn had twins. His parents had two sets of twins and a set of triplets. I'm going to be pregnant in my late thirties, which also increases the chances... so I'm really hoping for triplets or twins.

Erica Orloff said...

Yeah . . . one is all I could handle this go 'round!!!

Erica Orloff said...


Erica Orloff said...

I always LOVE your comments!!!!!!


Erica Orloff said...

Yeah. Science had little to do with my thought processes at the time. I was a hormonal pregnant woman with three other kids,