When I got pregnant with my second son, somewhere around week 16 he started moving. And once he started moving, he started using my internal organs as punching bags and target practice. I started to wonder if I’d somehow been impregnanted with a child with 6-8 arms and started to call TLC before the ultrasound tech informed me that, no, my son really only had 2 arms and 2 legs.

It doesn’t help that I have no torso and am mostly legs, so that at 5’5″, when I’m pregnant, I look frighteningly like a very chubby daddy long-legs.

At multiple prenatal appointments, he’d kick so violently at the fetal heart-tones doppler that it would go flying out of the nurses hand, across the room. I barely slept for six months, because no matter what position I managed to heave myself into, he’d find something that displeased him about it and kick.

My ribs. My pelvis. My sternum. My liver. My stomach. My kidneys.

My son kicked them all day, every day. All night every fucking night.

By the time he was born, I’d begged my OB for an induction, who must have taken pity on me. He apologized to me when he informed me that I wouldn’t be delivering at my choice of hospitals and glassy eyed, I told him that I would deliver in the back of a Pinto if that was all he would do. I meant it.

Hooked up to the monitors in the hospital, The Daver finally heard his son kick. And kick. And kick. And kick. For 12 hours straight, my son kick at the monitors strapped to my belly, which he found HIGHLY displeasurable, apparently. Dave laughed about it until he fell asleep.


Anyway, after Alex was born, he didn’t sleep, and who was surprised? He never slept in utero, so why start now?

Shockingly, though, he also didn’t really move much. Late to crawl (10 months), I was too tired to consult Baby Center (dear Baby Center, I am not pregnant, plz be stopping emailing me) or give much of a shit. I mean, despite my awesome experience in the polo club in college, I am not very coordinated (dear Internet, plz be seeing the time I broke mah toe making a peanut butter sandwich).

When he did crawl, though, he just…took off. No hesitation, just BAM.

Several months later (15 months), late again to walk he just…took off one day. My jaw dropped as my son just started walking. I’d figured he was probably as uncoordinated as I was, but apparently I was wrong, he was like a Jedi or something.

The very next day, I noted that my son was standing there, foot next to a ball and I watched him to see what the hell he was doing. Angrily, he tried to use a single foot to make the ball move, and each time, he fell. Over and over, he stood back up, tried to use that foot to make the ball move and failed. The screams that came out of him made me close up the windows, lest my neighbors call CPS.

Alex was trying to learn to kick a ball.

It took him about an hour but he did it. I don’t know how this child was sprung from my loins, but somehow I have raised a wee jock.

He’s starting soccer soon and I can’t help but wonder if they’re going to look back and forth between me and my athletic son and laugh like I do. Couldn’t blame them, really.

Who the hell breaks their toe making a sandwich?

This was a pre-walking Alex who is already giving me the “you throw like a GIRL, Mom,” look. Which, I mean, I do.

ALEX, however, does NOT throw like a girl, Pranksters.

Don’t know WHERE he came from. Really. I’d say the mailman, but I don’t know if he’s more coordinated than I am.

68 thoughts on “Proof of Recessive Genes is in the Pudding

  1. I never realized how much he looks like his sister (sister looks like him). You may be onto something though. I was a WAY early walker. And I was a pre-mie to boot. I walked before I crawled. At 7 months!

    Now? I trip over my own feet. I cant walk and chew gum.

  2. I broke MY toe walking through a door. {SIGH} If only I had gotten to eat a peanut butter sandwich…

    I pray DAILY that my kids don’t have my coordination. It’s not looking good (Baby Girl didn’t walk until 18 months…)

  3. My child moved so much in utero, and turned out to be a 10 pound baby, that I was CONVINCED my ex-husband had allowed me to be abducted by aliens to be impregnated with their spawn. I swear I could see the outline of her hands, feet, whatever she ws moving as it went across my stomach.
    (PS. She wasn’t actually alien spawn as it turns out-they had misjudged my due date so she had extra baking time)

  4. I once pulled a neck muscle while I was trying to pop a zit on my chin. For an entire week, I couldn’t move my head…I had to turn my whole torso. You’re not alone.

  5. Hey those skillz can lead to a full ride to college… encourage them !! (even if he is the mailman’s kid because the mailman ain’t coming off the hip for college tuition)

  6. What is up with the Baby Center emails? I get those too!!! I was just tweeting about it the other day…
    And who cares where he got the ability to kick from- he’s the cutest thing ever, and that MUST have come from you.

  7. Soccer and little onesβ€”just about as gut-wrenching sweet as it gets. Just wait.

    I’ve got 2 girl soccer jocks and it certainly didn’t come from me. My tennis instructor as a child gave my parents their money back, because I couldn’t for the life of me, learn to serve. I wish I was kidding.

    But, I’ll never forget one time, during my daughter’s little tykes soccer game, a little boy had the ball and was just drilling it towards the goal line. Everyone was on their feet. But, then he just kept on running past the goal, off the field. When they caught up with him, he’d been chasing a butterfly! So freakin adorable.

  8. Oh how I feel your pain… I’m barely 5’2″ (and by barely, I mean that I’m not 5’2″ at all and actually only 5’1 3/4″ and when you’re this goddamn short people take pity on you and just let you say 5’2″ because really? who counts 3/4 of an inch worth of height as an adult??!!) Also with abnormally long legs (believe it or not, I actually have a 32inch inseam- no petite pants for me!)

    But I have RIDICULOUS active babies. Present occupant included. And they like to STREEEEEEEEEEEEEETCH out…. oh no, no cute little thumb-sucking balled up fetuses for me… no no… they like to mangle as many different organs as possible all at once!! So yeah… Somehow I also end up with freakishly long babies too… my darling daughter was 21 3/4 inches long at birth… i’m surprised she could still move ANYTHING at that point… but she did…oh did she ever!!!

    1. Wait…I’m 5′ 4″ & 3/4″…

      And my husband at birth was 24″. No shit – I’ve seen the birth records. 24″, 8lbs, 13 oz; 36cm shoulder circumference.

      (Could be why I’m not popping out his babies! πŸ™‚ )

  9. For the longest time, Rocket would only walk when he thought we weren’t looking. Then one day he was like, “Fuck this. I’m walking. I don’t care what you bitches say.”

    And he was off.

  10. My girl can kick a soccer ball like she’s no relation to me…for about 20 feet. Then her genes kick in, and she falls on top of the ball. However, recessive genes gave her some pretty blue eyes, so that’s a good thing.

  11. I don’t have kids yet, but seeing that I have CP, a drunk standing on one foot has more balence & coordination than me.

    Great post.

    Would love to hear the broken toe story sometime.

    Stop by sometime.


  12. Damn that’s a cute kid. Mine, delayed too, she just couldn’t be bothered. She isn’t running yet but when she tries she looks like a speed walker. I think she made me laugh off the baby weight.

  13. Dammit! the browser just ate my post and now I have to do it again! Grr.
    Anyway – I was sayin…. I love how kids practice these skills in secret and then bust out with them full force almost perfected. It’s like they just enjoy the stunned look on our faces.
    As for me and coordination, I’m a screwball. I can dance and play tennis oh so gracefully. Take away the music or the green fuzzy ball, and fahgettaboudit. I can’t walk without tripping and stairs are just a death trap to me, whether going up or down. I am actually afraid to carry my baby, lest I kill her in the process of trying to walk. Did actually fall down the stairs while pregnant. Oy. My daughter seems to have inherited this. She, being almost one, has begun walking, and is seriously on a mission to make some brain damage. Her accident rate is up to about 1 every 3 minutes. And I mean, lumps, bruises, and the bleeding type. I’m starting to think those padded helmets are actually a good idea. My 4 year old son, on the other hand, clearly inherited the jock gene from my hubs. He can hit a baseball that’s pitched to him and has been doing that for almost 2 years. He also likes to climb to the top of anything he can get his grubby mitts on. Yay! Good luck with Alex and soccer, I hear it’s great for getting the little energizer bunnies to tire out. I might try it after baseball is over.

  14. I, too, have no torso and am all legs. At 5’3″. Sigh.

    I must have been graceful at some point as I was a figure skater for about 10 years (okay, I’m also now remembering the time I fell flat on my face and bust my lip open while trying to do a spin… so maybe not as graceful as a skater should be).

    But soccer I still love. I played for many, many years (longer than I skated). As did my husband (actually, he still plays). Both our kids could kick balls before they walked on their own. They would grip our fingers and swat their little legs at balls all around the house. (granted, we placed the balls at their feet to get them started — we joke about them being our retirement plan. The kids, not the balls.)

  15. Awww, his hair looks so silky soft. AND, I feel like my daughter couldn’t have my same DNA because I am very clumsy…..she, on the other hand, is very ‘athletic’ at the tender age of four. I should really sign her up for something.

  16. Super cute.

    My family seems to be into somewhat extreme sports, but I am not encouraged to participate since I am always the person who gets injured one way or another.

  17. Itty-bitty kids playing soccer is the cutest of all cutest things to watch them do. My soccer kid (12 yrs now) started at 6, and O-M-G what a riot it was to watch them play. Or not really play, but skip and prance around the field, following each other in a little line while the goalie is swinging off the posts … It’s not so cute at this age as my blog today rants …. And I loved watching my daughter play so much, I joined a team myself. I am overweight, and a smoker! And I have fun.

    Also, a dear friend of mine, and fellow-blogger, just broke her entire foot doing something kitchen-related … I’m tellin ya, some of us are just not meant to be in a kitchen! And I’m ok with that.

  18. I have no coordination at all whatsoever, and neither does anyone in my immediate family. Mea is showing signs of pure jockdom, totally rocks at gymnastics (at 3 she is doing stuff 7 year olds do) and can catch any ball thrown to her. Of course, we can take no credit for her jockdom, since she’s adopted, but we will finally have someone to cheer at during sporting events. When Mack was in volleyball, it was like, “Great job, warming up the bench, honey!”

  19. My youngest son moved so much in utero that my husband was afraid something was seriously wrong! I was just tired..and sore..and I am the only person I know who rocked her kid BEFORE he was born…every night in order to go to sleep I had to rock him to sleep. Which meant I stood there holdin my tummy and rocked back and forth until he fell asleep.
    He is also an athlete..soccer, swimming and baseball! Hmmmmm..I guess all that practice before birth helps!!!
    And I am new to your site having just found it…fucking LOVE IT!!!!!

  20. He is too darn cute! You CAN break your toe making a sandwich–a big sandwich. So I stay out of the kitchen. Always.It’s just too dangerous.

  21. A cubby daddy long would be a dream compared to what I turn into when I’m PG! I still get the baby center emails too…seriously… I don’t have time to bathe…let alone read your email to see what you think my child should be doing at this age!

    Oh and…Yay for the athletic baby!

  22. A. DOOR. A. BULL!

    Now that I have my 3, I thank God I didn’t spawn them! They’re all HUGE. Ethan did the “watch and learn” thing when he started to talk. We never heard a word out of him then one day he started speaking plain, perfect English.

    And last night, I broke my toe involving a curious incident that included a computer and a Great Dane (really, she’s a dangerous ninja dog) but that’s nowhere as awesome as the time I broke my foot falling off a high heel shoe. Honey, you are so not alone! πŸ˜›

  23. Too cute!

    I fractured my shoulder while hiding in the hamper playing hide-and-go-seek as kid… It fell over. Feel ya on the toe…

  24. I don’t remember my eldest being especially active in the processing area, but she has become someone I don’t recognize over the years…interested in playing sports, and actually good at it, too.

    My position is sitting on the sidelines – I’m a fan of very few sports….and I can’t play any of them.

  25. My daughter hated any monitor or doppler- the nurses started laughing when they saw me coming- I had to have a multitude of ultrasounds because they could never get any good info from the doppler because she would kick the hell out of it- she has not stopped in two years-

  26. I’ll see “My ribs. My pelvis. My sternum. My liver. My stomach. My kidneys.” and raise you: my cervix. Poose tap-danced on it for the last 5 weeks of my pregnancy. That’s right, it was c-section for me: “Well, you’re 4 cm, but that’s not his head…”
    Good time, good times.
    You can read the original here: http://peddlincrazy.blogspot.com/2008/03/put-me-back-in-story-of-pooses-birth.html
    and come back May 24 for an update!

  27. I hear you. The first week we had our 12-month old adopted daughter, she would crawl straight off the edge of the bed and land on her nose because she had no idea about moving around without being in a walker with wheels (still have those in China). Two weeks later, she was running. The upside is fewer emergency room visits because these daredevils have skills.

  28. Okay, I thought I was a clutz. Really, your toe? How? Were you using your feet to make the sandwich?

    But I know what it’s like to be the awkward one. My sister was always the athletic one, and I’m just. You know, not. It’s not that I don’t like the outdoors or exercise, I just suck at sports and I’ve got the coordination of a drunken chihuahua.

    But I can’t say I’ve sported any sandwich-making injuries. New one.

  29. I think your son has a future in MMA. I would, however, be a bit worried about the ball obsession. Later in life he could take that in a whole different direction…

  30. Dude, your Alex and my Cenzo are two peas. If only we lived closer, those two would be ruling the sports fields together while we sat on our uncoordinated butts, drank margaritas from sports bottles, and watched. Laughing evilly, of course.

  31. The toddler soccer days…been there and it really is a blast. There ARE no teams they just steal the ball from one another. πŸ™‚ Can’t wait to hear about Alex’s adventures in Soccer.

  32. Maybe our son’s were best buddies before they met us….because I broke a toe opening a door and neither my hubby or I even watch sports, yet that boy is 3 and wants to take them ALL on. Who knew?

  33. I feel your pain when it comes to being uncoordinated.

    I ripped the tendons in my knee watching the Popeye movie (remember that? With Robin Williams?).

    I once broke my finger sitting on a sofa.

    Oh, and several years later, I dislocated my hip getting off a sofa.

    My daughter, who is just like me, ripped the ligaments in HER knee by pretending to be a wilting flower…and twisted both ankles at once walking down the stairs.

    Don’t question your son’s jock-ness (is that a word?). Just embrace it. πŸ™‚

      1. Related by klutziness and not by birth? Could be…

        As an aside, yesterday my daughter tried to open the front door and hit herself in the face with it. She’s 15 1/2 years old, by the way…

  34. I have twin sisters. When my parents were teaching them to crawl, Melanie would always try and struggle. Laurie would sit there like a bump. Finally, Melanie would make it to my parents, and all of a sudden Laurie just crawled over like it was no big deal. Same thing happened when they walked. Bizarro.

  35. This gives me hope for my own son, because I am sooo not athletic in any form or fashion! Have you seen Prince of Tides? At one point in the movie Nick Nolte throws a football to Barbra Streisand and she shrieks “My NAILS!”

    That’s me.

    P.S. I’ve left a little something for you over on my blog.

  36. I feel ya. I have broken toes no LESS than three times…by FALLING OUT OF BED. I am the least sporty person you will meet.

    My son? Plays, and excels, at every single sport created (when he’s not sliding along the floor or trying to fly tackle someone while playing basketball) you name it, he loves it – ice hockey, soccer, football, basketball, baseball etc etc ad nauseum.

  37. When I was pregnant with my oldest, I kept talking about how exciting this was, to get to see a person with all the best parts of me and the best parts of my husband–my patience, his compassion, his strong will, my willingness to listen. (You notice sports are nowhere in there.) Never occurred to me until later that he’s going to get my ability to cry on command and my husband’s inability to understand technology too.

    But then there are the things that make you wonder where the hell that came from. And it’s such a spectacular reminder that they’re not ruled by their parents’ genetics, that they have a chance to be something all their own. Good for him!

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