Schmancer, Part I

This is the story of Schmancer, my schmeckel dancer. A nice, fine blog name to be sure. He is so named for that cute little dance thingy he used to do with his, well... THINGY when he was a little kid. Assuredly mortified to be blogged about (he’s now 12), I decided to not use his real name. Oh, and he reads my blog. Hi, Son-Z!

When he was handed to me in the delivery room, his eyes were wide open, as if to say “Holy shit, what just happened here?” For the next 45 minutes, he alternately studied my face and scanned the room. He held his head still, but those big eyes were slowly taking in everything and everyone, pondering all. He seemed most fascinated with the patterned border near the ceiling. He’d scan it from left to right and back again. That should have been a signal of things to come. He was intense.

He rarely slept. In fact, he didn’t sleep through the night until well after the age of 2. I was so sleep deprived that I thought I was going to die. Really. He was hyper-alert and absorbed the most minute information like a sponge. My husband had a tendency to react to minor annoyances by saying, “Oh, God-dammit!”

Let me just share a formula with you: Swearing + a child-sized human sponge = hilarity.

At 15 months, Schmancer had gotten into something in the family room. My husband reacted with his favorite phrase and quickly scooped him up and into the playpen. Schmancer, holding onto the siderail, began jumping up and down and saying “O guh-dammit o guh-dammit o guh-dammit!” Surely he thought this was the way to get out of the playpen. It wasn’t.

I told my husband that he’d have to watch his language around Schmancer. Hubby says to me, “What makes you think he learned that from ME?” To which I replied, “Well, if he’d learned it from ME, he’d have said ‘oh, FUCK!’” Case closed. One point for Mommy.

By 18 months, Schmancer was speaking in full adult sentences (no baby talk at all) and figuring out the proper way to use every single piece of electrical equipment in our home. I always said, “He’s either gonna be an electrician, or electrocuted!” He was always working on things, but never inappropriately. He always knew how to plug stuff in, and never tried to put anything other than tapes into the VCR. He was kicked out of his first daycare at 18 months for finding the lady’s well-hidden gas line under a counter. He was like an idiot savant, without the idiot. He was just a busy, busy little boy and I had no Xanax, for me OR him. Dimetapp was a blessing (and you moms out there KNOW what I'm talking about) ;)

At that time, Barney was his big thing; that, and all videos. And Barney VIDEOS were like Baby Crack to him. He watched them until they wore out. You know, to the point where all you see is a jumping screen and static? It was hilarious to see him stand in front of the VCR with his dad and hear him say, “Dad, time-a clean da heads.”

We put child locks on the stereo cabinets. He’d hold all of his stuff in one arm, and reach his foot up to hold the cabinet door open enough to push the latch down & open with his other hand. As parents, we realized we were way out of our league. But, alas, he was too large to return to the womb.

He has always loved music and would carry his Sony boom box wherever he went. It weighed nearly as much as HE did! He’d lug it in front of him, his arms straight down, having to walk sideways to do it. I always knew where he was because I’d see that bright yellow boom box.

The summer he turned 2, we’d moved into a brand new subdivision and had a block party to meet everyone. He was playing contentedly on our lawn as I BBQ’d in the driveway. I looked up not 2 minutes later & he was GONE. My eyes frantically darted down the street where I saw his boom box sitting on a neighbor’s porch, 2 houses down.

I quickly found the neighbor & embarrassingly asked if I could look for my son in her house. She led me through the front door, which Schmancer had opened. We found him sitting on the floor in her family room. Apparently in the space of less than 5 minutes he’d gone into her house, found a Barney tape, stuck it into the VCR and was quietly watching it. Thank GOD she and I became fast friends, with a true Schmancer Bond. She continues to be delighted with him to this day.

Next installment: "Shit, honey, we're gonna have to find a different Emergency Room before they call CPS on us!"