Babies Are the Best

As many of you know from my last post, I have been helping take care of my youngest nephew this week – here’s a running diary of one night with him:

6:15: Just got home from work (totally skipped out earlier than I should have) – time to feed the little man dinner. Hmmm, applesauce. OK, open your mouth. No, open. Come on, what can I do to get you to open your mouth? Can I just push the spoon in? Is that child abuse?

6:17: OK, this is ridiculous. Ooh, look – it’s a plane flying in, “Zoom.” That’s it, watch the plane flying above you. Now open…yup, that worked.

6:18: No, don’t spit it out! Dude, we worked so hard to get that in you.

6:19: Open.

6:20: Please open your mouth.

6:21: Please?

6:23: Oh come on! It can’t be that bad – we’re talking applesauce here. Who doesn’t like applesauce? Sniff. It smells OK. Maybe I’ll just sneak a bite to check…wow, that stuff is good. “Seriously, if you don’t eat it I will,” I tell him. He stares at me – maybe he’s considering his options.

6:24: OK, maybe he dislikes airplane food as much as I do. Let’s try a racecar instead – “Vroom, vroom” I rumble as I race the spoon past his mouth, then turn around and come back in for the kill (Note: I feel like an idiot). Success – who cares if I’m an idiot! Wait…nope, he’s spitting half of it out again.

6:29: Sigh. This is taking a while. Half goes in, half comes out. I’ve stopped even attempting to wipe his face after each bite anymore. Apparently solids are going to take a bit more time to get used to. Good thing it’s almost bathtime.

6:32: That’s it, I give up on feeding you – the rest of your sustenance is coming from a bottle tonight. And you know what that means? Time for your bath! Let’s get you out of that high chair.

6:33: Wait, how do I get the table thingy off so I can get you out? WTF? Fucking childproof… Oh yeah, there it is. OK, up we go. Let’s get the water running.

6:34: Why is it so hard to get you in and out of clothes? I always feel like I’m going to dislocate your shoulder or something. Never mind - success! I rule.

6:35: Now, into your little reclining chair thingy in the tub. Ah, doesn’t this water feel good? There’s the smile I love; you like your bath don’t you? Thank God you’re not screaming like your brother used to.

6:36: Wait, what are you doing? Are you peeing?! In your bathwater? Agh, where the washcloth?

6:37: Apparently you need to be covered even in the bath – who knew? It must be nice to feel like you have to pee and just do it. If I did that it could get very embarrassing.

6:42: So, which towel do we want? The one with the elephant hood thingie? Yeah, I think so too. OK, off to find you something to wear to bed and to prepare your bottle.

6:44: Hmmm, why are diapers so hard for me yet everyone else makes changing them look so easy? Ah well, just another mystery of the universe.

6:46: Wait, I was supposed to rub cream all over you before putting on the diaper, wasn’t I? Shit.

6:48: No problem – I have everything under control. Now, how about the sleeveless wife beater looking onesie for bed? It’ll make you look like a badass.

6:50: Actually, you look more cold than tough. Maybe something with a short sleeve instead. Let’s see what you have…wow, you have more clothes than I do.

6:52: OK, look at us just rolling along. When I’m done with you I am going to have a large drink. Yes I am! Yes I am! God you’re cute when you laugh. Now, let’s go play for a little while before bedtime.

6:54: The dog walks over, sniffs the baby, and gives him a huge lick. Ummm….oh good, he’s laughing.

6:55: “No, no, no – we don’t grab the doggie’s ear.”

7:00: Happiest baby in the world – he won’t stop smiling. My mom’s take on the whole thing: “He almost looks like he’s on drugs.” Nice mom.

7:05: Or, maybe he’s not the happiest baby ever. Wow, babies can scream when they want to – damn. “I think he’s ready for bed.”

7:07: Trudge upstairs and sit on the couch in the baby’s room. Turn down the lights (God that’s relaxing – don’t fall asleep!), and begin to attempt to give him his bottle.

7:09: End attempt. I guess he didn’t need the bottle since he’s out cold. Nice. Place him in the crib and quietly tiptoe out of the room and go downstairs for my drink. I think I've earned this reward thank you very much.

8:05: Dad’s home and dinner’s ready – good, I’m starving. Shit, is that…”I’ve got it,” I practically whimper (so hungry) and stand up from the table. It’s all my fault, I should have gotten that bottle in him before he fell asleep.

8:11: Why doesn’t he understand he’s cranky because he’s hungry? Trust me, you want this bottle.

8:15: What’s the problem here? Is your diaper wet? I am NOT sticking my finger in there to check like my mother does. We’ll just have to take it off to check.

8:17: Jesus, how can such a little body hold that much fluid?

8:19: Ah, now you’re hungry. I’m getting it – slowly but surely. Wait, is that a rash on your face? Is that where the dog licked you? Shit. Uh…let’s not tell your parents about this.

8:20: God I’m tired. And starving. “Are you guys eating without me?” I ask the monitor. Shockingly, it doesn’t answer back – damn one-way communication. I can just picture my parents downstairs laughing over my plight as they’re eating. They’re probably down there thinking ‘Sucker!’

8:34: Nice, he’s out again. Sneak downstairs to eat a cold meal with my parents – aw, they waited for me.

9:15: Passed out in the den.

10:00: Shit, I should go up to bed. Mom gets the monitor, I get my bedroom which is near the baby’s. Guess who always hears him first?

1:48: No! If I ignore him, will he stop?

1:49: Stumble blindly into the baby’s room and pick him up. My mother stumbles in after me, mumbles something about getting a bottle ready, and leaves. I try not to breathe – “Whew, you stink buddy.”

1:50: I should change his diaper. Nah, I’ll just wait until my mom comes back – not up for that kind of horror right now. I rock him and give him kisses instead.

1:52: Mom comes back. “You change him,” I say, handing him over. I then lean back on the couch and…yup, I pass out.

1:55: “Why don’t you go back to bed, I can feed him,” my mother says, waking me. Shit, did I fall asleep? I’m crappy at this. “No,” I reply. “You had him all day – I’ve got it.” “Are you sure,” she asks? So tempted to leave it up to her, but… “No, I’ve got it.”

1:57: Mom’s goes back to bed, and I settle in to feed the little man. He kind of looks like he’s asleep while he’s eating. I’d like to try that.

2:03: This much drooling can’t be normal.

2:20: Gently place the baby back in his crib, and stumble out of the room. Those two stairs between his room and mine? Don’t see them. Take a face plant in the hallway. Fuck that hurt.

2:22: The two stairs in my bedroom? Don’t seem them. Take ANOTHER face plant. At least this time the floor is carpeted.

2:30: Blissfully asleep.

5:30: No! If I ignore him, will he stop?

5:37: Fuck! Oh wait, that’s my alarm not the baby. Thank God. Shit, this commuting into the city thing SUCKS.

6:30: Showered, dressed, ready to go. He’s not even up to say goodbye – makes sense; he must be exhausted after the night he had. Need…coffee.

UPDATE: Hey everyone, as you probably know by now I'm a little (massive understatement) upset about the recent Michael Vick situation, and when I mentioned it here it seemed that a lot of you agreed. Anyway, I just found out that the Humane Society is soliciting donations here to help the dogs that were recovered from Vick's property. I just gave, and I thought if any of you were interested in helping out I'd make it easy and provide you with a link. Thanks.