So I am at my BFF's, and after watching her dear little 10 month old daughter for about an hour and 30 mins, and putting her to bed, I felt the need to talk about how useless I've just realized I am. First of all, I don't know how to entertain a 10 month old for longer than 30 seconds. But, that isn't exactly my biggest problem. My biggest problem is something that should be beyond simple, and that's changing the poor girl!
Do you have ANY idea how hard it is to change a 10 months old's clothes and diapers? Of course you do, you people aren't daft, but me, apparently I've got a LOT to learn.
She's just a baby. A cute, pudgy darling little baby, with a great big smile and thighs you just want to bite. You wouldn't think a 10 month old could shake my confidence to the core with a simple diaper and PJ change, but she did it. And she certainly didn't mean to. I brought her to her room and laid her on her change table. And then I looked at her and thought, ok now you just need to pull the t-shirt over her head. After what probably seemed to her like 300 hours of me trying to figure out if the button on the back of the shirt needed to come undone (it didn't. It's false. You know, decorative, cause that's not at all confusing) I finally pulled it over her head. Step 1 complete, and she's unscathed. Annoyed, but unscathed.
Next I have to remove her pants. Simple, right? Sure it is, if you're not a spazz but me, I had issues. I pulled and tried to get them off, one side down the other side still firmly under her butt. She's squirming and I'm trying to simultaneously hold her down so she doesn't squirm off the change table onto the floor, while lifting her butt. I am sure she looked at me and I saw her roll her eyes. She's a smart monkey, it wouldn't surprise me. But ok, pants off. Victory is mine! But she's wearing a onesie...oh dear not a onesie.
Unsnap the crotch, check. Did I mention she's got bitable thighs? Ya so she chooses NOW to faux-thigh master, clenching her thighs of steel together stronger than I could pull even if I wanted to (which I don't, I'm too afraid to hurt her). We struggle, she squirms, I feel stupider by the minute, I mean HONESTLY, her mother does this 5 times per day. Finally unsnapped, I've got to now pull said onesie over her head AND free her arms from it's long sleeves. I need a manual. Which do I do first? Arms? Head? No matter what I do, it's not going to end well. I am sure she could do this on her own by now, but poor kid, she's stuck with me.
Finally, I FINALLY free her from her clothes. Now we're down to the diaper. I can do this She's mad at me, but it's ok. I know I can soon soothe her with a bottle and a book, and really, she's not been hurt, just suffered the stupidity of her aunt. I'm sure that's why she is mad. She can't believe that I could have this much trouble. And I know she was secretly sending baby messages through my womb to her soon to be BFF, telling her to STAY IN THERE, cause this woman is hopeless and she's at least naked in utero.
Removing the diaper was fairly uneventful. By now she's been on the table for what seems to both of us like an eternity, and she's done. She's flipping and squirming and yelling at me. And now, I have to put the clothes back on. I HAVE TO PUT THEM BACK ON. I think I should buy her something pretty for enduring the epic bedtime change with me. Honestly. And I guess since normally, her dad bathes her in the middle of the process, by virtue of me skipping that (I'm honestly petrified of putting her in the water...I'm just not comfortable with bathing a baby so I got a free pass), it was extra torture.
As she lay there, I realize the PJ's are all snaps, which is awesome since it means no pulling anything over her head or feeding her appendages through any holes. What's not awesome is, she's on the table, and I've got to get this thing under her. Why don't I have 3 arms? I need 3 arms, how is any of this possible without 3 arms? Why weren't we born with 3 arms?
I scoop her up, fling the PJs down and put her on top. And now, well now it's me against 37 snaps and a squirmy babe.
I won't even go into detail about how many times I mis-snapped them but, by this time she's given up on getting to bed and has started to just yell and suck her blanket, I am sure she assumed she'd be sleeping on that change table, since I was clearly going to take an eternity to do up a few snaps. She gave up, and mental noted to herself to talk to her mother when she learns words, and tell her mama not to leave her with this crazy lady who doesn't know how a shirt works. Finally, we are done. I should have started her bedtime routine much earlier because I am sure that in the entire course of time, it's never taken anyone that long to get a baby ready for bed.
When it's bottle and story time and the rest of the night goes fairly smoothly. I guess one thing we can say is that, if you want a baby to just roll over and go to sleep, give them a reason to want to get as far away from you as possible. Just call me, I have a knack.
This does not bode well for my baby girl. And this is not the first time this has happened. I had a very similar experience with my niece when she was new, only my sister couldn't take it and jumped in 30 seconds into the disastrous scene I was making. I am hoping this is again, one of those things that you learn when you have your own child.
I seem to be hoping for a lot of that these days. Like as if, shortly after cutting the cord your body is filled with all this maternal instinct and motherly know how. As if I will suddenly stop being a spazz, a klutz and a moron, and clearly and calmly know exactly how to approach these situations. As if becoming a mom is so easy.
Every time I watch someone else's child, I leave that experience envious of my friends. They are all so with it. They KNOW what they are doing, their kids are behaving, entertained, clothed and fed, and none of them seem to have arms out of the socket in order to accomplish that. And me, I'm a mess.
So dear baby, I hope that there really is some sort of "on" button the midwives will push for me, that will suddenly have me knowing what to do with you, and not floundering around like an idiot. Because although there was no harm to my little friend today, she was only exposed to me for 1.5 hours. And you my darling, well you've got your entire LIFE to deal with this.....
It's like this, and like that....
I started this blog in an effort to track my experiences with pregnancy and beyond. Writing is therapeutic. Kind of like talking to myself without the people in WalMart thinking I'm crazy. If you find some entertainment in this along the way, then even better!
This is one woman's journey through unfathomable hunger, vivid sex dreams and a bulging belly...from conception to birth in 9 months or less...