Today I enjoyed the marvelous opportunity of babysitting a very small infant for two entire hours. That's right, someone entrusted me to take care of their baby even though I haven't done so for at least five years. Of course, he is my dear friend Katie Drohn's nephew, so I am practically family. And coupled with the fact that the mother just luckily happened to be up all night last night, I was able to take him to my house and cuddle him for two whole hours.
Now, the truth is that I haven't pushed a baby stroller for several years and it felt really weird. I started pushing and then looked at Baby and said, "Hi, I haven't done this for a long time. Boy, stroller technology sure has improved in the past few years, huh?" Silence. I walked along a little more. "So, Baby, how you doing in there? You comfortable? It's a little chilly, isn't it?" Silence.
Did you know that 3-month-old babies don't have a lot to say for themselves? I forgot this part. It came back to me very quickly, however. I remember when Pes was a baby, lo those almost 11 years ago, and I would walk all over town with him talking away about the most inane things, thinking that I was, "stimulating his brain," or some nonsense. Now, don't get me wrong, a woman can appreciate a child who doesn't say you are, "mean," "unfair," or that you, "like Pes/Zsa Zsa/Eva/Gorby better," or ask, "Can you please buy more juice pouches/help me with my book report/buy a birthday present for Shloimy's birthday by tomorrow?"
Anyway, I picked up Baby at 1115 and was to have him until his mommy came at 115 to retrieve him. When I arrived home, marveling the whole way at his adorable mop of black hair and his calm silence, I brought him in and set him on the floor in his carseat. My plan was to throw in some laundry and clean up my email inbox and, hopefully, shower. Also, I thought that since his brain cannot be marred by poor viewing choices, if worst came to worst and he didn't want to be put down ;) I could hold him while catching up on some TV viewing so I could get that DVR percentage down. I try to be considerate of my husband that way.
So I ran to the laundry room and when I got halfway there, Baby started crying. I put the clothes in the dryer and heard, "Waahh! Waahh! Waahh!!"
"Hold on!" I cried, "Let me just push the button to start the dryer!" I ran back the few steps to the baby and scooped him up from his confinement. He stopped crying. "Oh, that's better, isn't it?" I cooed, "I am so sorry I left you there for ten seconds, I will hold you now."
Next, we tried to clean out my inbox but Baby wasn't happy so we retired to the family room where I may or may not have caught up on a "Real Housewives" franchise episode or something more educational on PBS while Baby fell asleep in my arms. I alternately kissed his little sleeping face and was like, "What up Teresa? Why you be frontin' like that?"
When he awoke, I quickly showered while he screamed, got dressed while he screamed, changed his (luckily mild) diaper and gave him a bottle. When his mom picked him up, I said, "He is adorable and sweet and awesome but babies are really a lot of work." She graciously agreed. I breathed a sigh of relief and retired quickly to Starbucks to "work" and eat some lunch before my afternoon of driving, watching Tae Kwon Do, feeding children (they have gotten really hungry all of a sudden and require A LOT of food), homework, etc.
As I was "working," my phone rang.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello Mommy," said a voice of a child who sounded remarkably familiar but seemed so....mature. I held the phone away from my ear and checked the caller ID. Home. I cocked my head. Hm. GORBY? Then I was really surprised when I heard,
"Mommy, I am just calling to see how your day was." I held the phone away from my ear and double checked. It still said Home.
"Gorby, it was great! I got to watch the baby."
"Was he soooo cute Mommy? Was he so so so so cute?"
"Oh Gorby, he was adorable."
"OK, Mommy, see you at Tae Kwon Do."
I sat there, stunned. Who had just called me? That was supposed to be my baby. But he wasn't at all like the baby I took care of this morning. He a) talks b) eats solid food c) makes me laugh and d) sleeps through the night. So all in all, as cute and delicious it is to hold a sleeping baby in my arms for 45 minutes while I may or may not be watching an episode of a Real Housewives franchise, it is a little more fun to watch my baby grow up and communicate with me. I smiled, self-satisfied at what a fantastic job I am doing with my five-year-old baby.
Ten minutes later, as I was driving to meet Gorby at Tae Kwon Do, the phone rang. "MOOOMMYY!!!!!" Someone screamed. I didn't have to guess who that was. Gorby. "I NEED TO GO TO TAE KWON DO AND HOUSEKEEPER (AND YOUR PERSONAL HERO) WON'T TAKE ME AND I WANT TO GO RIIIIGHHTTT NNOOOOOWWWWW!!!!" I sighed.
OK, maybe Gorby isn't, like, super mature yet, and maybe he screams still, but we are past that diaper changing, up all night baby who doesn't say a word to you. I mean, I got NOT ONE WORD from that adorable baby this morning. And while the words I do get don't always ring my bell, I enjoy the conversations I have with my four little duckies. Especially when they say, "Mommy you are so beautiful/I love you/You are the best Mommy in the whole world." Even if it's just because they are trying to appease me and/or want stuff. But once in a while, I am pretty sure they really really mean it.
