Prince of Wails

Natesy’s going through that phase where all of a sudden, he’s got an opinion.  And my does he have one.  What, Jaimie, your child has an opinion?  How shocking!  I know, I know… they say it skips a generation.

On the surface, our little Prince of Wails seems to have it pretty easy.  For example, when he drinks his bottle in the morning and before bedtime, he fusses and pushes it back at you until you hold it for him.  No, we don’t fan him with palm fronds… though I’m sure he’d like it.  This week it seems he’s finally holding it with his own hands… perhaps his new found autonomy is about to pay-off.  (Yes, Dr. Antsy told us to switch to a sippy cup at 1, and no, little Mr. Baby Boss just isn’t having it.)

The other day I heard James reply to the incessant complaining, “I know.  Your life is SO hard.”  Believe me, the whining and carrying on doesn’t bring out the best in any of us.

And then I got to thinking… how hard is Nathaniel’s life?  On the surface it seems like it’s all catered meals, chauffeurs, and sponge baths.  But let’s take a moment, just a moment, to indulge the prince…

Is it easy to fall down and hoist yourself back up hundreds of times a day?  The ground, the walls, the furniture—constantly changing and unapologetically knocking you to the floor.  Doors close in your face, pinch your fingers, and otherwise incarcerate you at every turn.  Every day you encounter cupboards that open just enough so you can see but not reach the tempting treasures inside.  Getting shirts over a disproportionate head represents significant panic and probable fashion suffocation.  Everything good is up high.  Everything.  No control, no decision-making authority, a tongue that refuses to cooperate, and everyone on earth seems to be in a position to tell you what you don’t want to hear.

See?  Being royalty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.