A few months ago my neighbor had a baby. Which was definitely a relief, because one day I asked her if she’d swallowed a watermelon and she said “no, I’m pregnant” and I told her about hysterical pregnancies and how she may think she’s pregnant, but this is why swallowing a watermelon seed is no joke and would she consider posing for a photo on my blog as a cautionary tale.
Then a whole bunch of things happened, none of which involved her showing up for my blog photo shoot, but which did involve Husbandrinka speaking to me in a soft voice about “boundaries” and getting fitted for some kind-of-tight dress-garment-thing, and then quite frankly things get a little blurry, except I have the distinct recollection that the blue pills make me really, really thirsty, but those red pills? It’s like they bottled happiness!
She had the baby, so I guess she showed me. I simple “I didn’t swallow a watermelon seed” would have done nicely.
This week I ran into her in the hallway and she had the dog and the baby in the stroller.I guess she takes that baby with her everywhere now, to prove that she really was pregnant or something. I have no idea.
So we exchanged pleasantries, and neither one of us mentioned watermelons, although to be fair, they’re not in season, so the real test of whether we are over the whole thing or not will be in the summer. I’ll keep you posted. And then one thing lead to the other, and I offered to watch her baby while she took the dog out because it’s been so cold in NYC, and I’m basically a saint. And she accepted.
Fortunately the baby was asleep in the stroller, so there wasn’t a lot for me to do. Which is how I like it.
But because I am a mommy blogger, I consider myself a professional in all things kid-related (the human kind, not goats), I immediately approached it with professionalism. First, I got the stroller into my apartment. Then, I secured the area. Which means I told my daughter that there was a baby on the premises, I was in no position to answer any of her questions, and that she must cease and desist all noise-making and practice deep breathing.
My daughter looked like she was a bit confused but followed me to the kitchen/nursery where the baby, fortunately, was still asleep in the stroller.
“How do we know that he’s still alive?” she whispered to me.
“Because he’s breathing, obviously,” I said, except he was sleeping like the proverbial log, which, unfortunately are not known for their respiration.
I was considering getting a mirror and holding it up to his nose like they do in the movies, but then I noticed that although I couldn’t see him breathing, I could see him sucking on his pacifier, so I felt that was good enough. Then I took off my coat and thought about what I had to do.
Unfortunately my list included unloading the dishwasher and running some tomatoes through the blender, both of which are very noisy and therefore not appropriate with Sleeping Baby. Further on my list was practice primal scream and start chainsaw, so it was like the whole world was conspiring against me.
I sat down and watched the baby sleeping. Sleeping like a baby, so peaceful, without a care in the world, except the whole learning to walk and talk, and getting into kindergarten and navigating this crazy world we live in. And I thought how lucky I was to have this precious time with the baby to remind me how it all begins, the round-the-clock care that babies require, the peaceful moments when they are asleep, the promises of the future that they hold. Oh, and also, hasn’t the baby been in my apartment for hours now, where was his mother walking the dog- VENUS?
But it was only ten minutes. She came back and thanked me and took the baby away. And just like that, my baby minding came to an end for the day.
Thank goodness I had the dishwasher unloading to occupy me, because otherwise I could have gotten really nostalgic and wistful about the baby days and it all being behind me now.
One year ago ...
- Woe Is Me - 2012