Didn't Leave Nobody But the Baby.

I’m the oldest of five children. I was 18 years old and a college freshman the year my youngest brother was born. As such, people expect me to be comfortable around tiny humans, but you guys. I’m just not. Let’s go over the reasons I should never be responsible for your children:

1. When I think something is cute my first impulse is to either tightly squeeze or shake it. Neither action really pertains to responsible childcare.

Cue vigorous shaking. 

2. My ability to communicate with children is on par with my ability to communicate with adults. Minimal. As an adult, I overcome this by studying up on current events and trending topics. You know, develop opinions and common ground, and so on and so forth. But kids are unpredictable. Following their line of reasoning is like chasing an errant rugby ball. For example, a recent conversation I had with my little brother:

Me: So what’s your favorite animal, dude?

Ben: Penguins.

Me: Oh yeah? Why do you like penguins?

Ben: Because they’re cute, and they have big eyes! And hippos. Do you like chicken nuggets? Come jump on the trampoline.

[Note: my baby brother has an endearing speech impediment. For historical accuracy please replace all C’s with T’s and R’s with W’s to reenact this scene. Also, somehow, N’s become D’s. For the record, my name is Bwedda.

Cons to conversations with 6 year olds: no logic or concrete talking points.

Pros: when all else fails, popsicles.

3. Kids hit. Kids hit a lot, and sometimes it hurts and when you ask them to stop they just laugh and hit you some more. Where do you go with that? Obvs the only logical answer is to hit them back, right? Right. Violence is the only answer to violence. Always.

4. My primary response to frustration? Uncontrollable weeping. This condition has plagued me the majority of my life. My throat swells, the space behind my eyes throbs and my lower lip does this horrible, seizure-y tremble thing. It’s the primary reason I don’t coordinate large groups of people, engage in philosophical debates, or learn how to do new things in front of other humans.

Coincidentally, babies also weep uncontrollably!

The last time I officially babysat, my little sister was about 6 months old. [Note: she’s 10 years old now, which is a testament to just how terrible I am with babies.] She started crying approximately ten minutes after my parents left the house. I managed to keep it together through the first hour. I checked her diaper, fixed a bottle, paced and bounced and sang to her. She wasn’t impressed. About halfway through the second hour I decided somewhere dark and quiet might work, since babies are essentially animals. Animals love their creepy little dens.

My parents came home about forty minutes later. My mom found us sitting in the dark on the upstairs couch, both crying quietly, staring into the fish tank. 

The morale of the story: I’m not the best with babies. I’m certainly not the worst either. Chris from Skins is the worst, but that is neither here nor there. What I’m saying is my terror of half-baked humans has long overwhelmed my desire to interact with them. But recently my work friend (whom I tolerate/miss horribly) birthed a 7 lb. baby boy. You guys. He is the sweetest little nugget. He sleeps so much he didn’t even bother to cry when I held him. He’s also freakishly strong, adorably fuzzy and one of my ovaries exploded a little bit when I saw him.

Nobody worry, I won’t be birthing one of my own any time soon. Let’s be honest, I can barely keep That Cat alive.

But I needed to say that I am proud of my friend, and only mildly terrified of her progeny. I would even like to hold him again some day, if she doesn't mind. I hope motherhood is everything she could have asked for, because I think she’s doing a fucking fantastic job of it. All of you who have babies, go hug them stat! But not too tight, ok? Their little brains need oxygen.

All my love, weirdos.

-b