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Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
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Tuesday
Sep112012

Tiny Viking

You think having a newborn is as tough as it gets. The sleepless nights, the numerous breastfeeding attempts that feel as if you're trying to foist your aching bosom upon a rabid squirrel and then, suddenly, your little larvae, who you now realize was so sleepy and portable, is now a walking, talking maniac.

And not just a maniac. A pillaging plunderer who routinely ransacks the personal possessions of various members of the household, taking what he likes and violently heaving what does not please him in all directions. That's not to say that those items that please Tiny Viking enjoy a good fate. No, those pleasing items generally end up stored safely in the toilet or the dog's water bowl.

He marauds around the house, Tiny Viking, barking commands and shouting NO when he is displeased. Shouting no when offered sustenance even when it might help him maintain the strength needed for his forays into all areas of the house including but not limited to the dogs' food and water bowls, toilets, closets and the bathtub.

NO. NO! NOOOO! Tiny Viking is displeased.

Moments later he will curl up in my lap with a book of his choosing, all traces of viking having evaporated from a face filled with rage seconds earlier. "Mama, buck!" He calls them. "Buck!" And yes, it rhymes with that other four-letter word that immediately came to your mind.

With a Queen of England wave of his tiny paw his highness demands a reading. He always gets one too, for who am I to deny a young boy desirous of knowledge?

The serenity is short-lived, however, as moments into the demanded reading Tiny Viking loses interest and quickly realizes a new mission is at hand. There is loot to be had in mom's nightstand or the bathroom cabinet and he will get his little mitts on it AT ALL COSTS. And just you try and chase him. Tiny Viking enjoys the chase. Lives for the chase. Sometimes tossing his booty as he runs, (and chuckles! that heathen!) and sometimes clutching it in a death grip until you pry it from his tightly clenched fists.

And so another raid begins anew. A supervised raid, I might add, so that intervention occurs when intervention is needed. Tiny Viking takes intervention about as well as a coked up druggie on the A&E television show of the same name. Sometimes worse as I've yet to see the subject of an intervention courtesy of Jeff ("I see a bunch of people who love you like crazy") VanVonderen fling themselves onto the floor and writhe in their own snot for fifteen minutes before finally, blessedly, becoming distracted by an episode of Robot & Monster an equally upset, equally tearful and snotty mama managed to dial up on the TiVo.

And for the moment, at least, Tiny Viking is appeased. At least until the next plunderous mission presents itself.


Tiny Viking, pausing briefly to refuel. Don't you be fooled, though. Look in the eyes! He's quietly watching. Just waiting for you to turn your back for a few seconds so he can finish up some work in the toilet water he was forced to abandon earlier in the day.

Reader Comments (7)

I have baby vikings as well. HOLY CRAP! Also, we like to make up drinking games in our house. One of them is the "Intervention" drinking game and must be played with beer. If at any time anyone says "S/he doesn't have much time left" or "S/he's not going to be with us much longer if s/he continues on this path" or some other variation of the theme, one must finish the beer and open another. Yeah, I already know I'm going to hell.

September 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterKaty E.

ha ha....I could see from the video that you have your hands full with him. "No Henry, get down" "No Henry, be careful, don't fall"....I thought he was going to drink Fishley for a minute there. Loved that age though, everything they see is a new adventure.

September 11, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterkacy

ha ha....I could see from the video that you have your hands full with him. "No Henry, get down" "No Henry, be careful, don't fall"....I thought he was going to drink Fishley for a minute there. Loved that age though, everything they see is a new adventure.

September 11, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterkacy

My daugher is 16 months old and has taken to hoarding things...so she walks from room to room, grabbing TV remotes and Chapstick and other things, clutching them to her. Then, they disappear, or end up in the dog's water bowl. And God forbid you take an item away from her. She has perfected an ear-piercing shriek to show she is not amused.

September 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMJ

Good god you have your hands full....

September 11, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMeghan

I love the Tiny Viking nickname and stories about your boy. I have one very similar except I call him the Anarchist. He started this new thing where after he takes something he's not supposed to have, runs with it (he enjoys the chase too), and at the very last second when you're thisclose to said thing, he throws it. I had to pull my fridge out to get my phone already this morning!

They might be rotten, but they sure are charming.

September 12, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMelissa

Ok, this post kinda scared the crap out of me. I am having my first baby and we've learned that we are having a boy... and I have no idea what to do with boys. And then I read this.... oh dear. Some scary sh*t in there.

September 12, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterJill

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