Three Men and a Baby

I've watched the 1980's movie "Three Men and a Baby" before. In case you don't know, it's about 3 bachelors who live together in Manhattan. While one is away in Turkey filming a movie, a baby conceived during a one-night stand with a cast member from a play he was in, is left on the doorstep for his unsuspecting and unprepared roommates to find. When he returns about a week later, he is quite stunned to discover that he's a father, but it doesn't take long for all three men to fall in love with the baby girl and become quite protective of her. Then, the baby's mother returns to take the baby to London with her to live. Of course, in the end, she decides to move in with the guys so they can all raise the baby together.

Like I said, I've watched the movie before. But I wanted to watch it again because I knew I would have a completely different perspective of the movie now. The last time I saw it, I was single and childless. I watched it because I like babies and thought it'd be fun to see a movie with a cute baby in it. This time I watched it to see a scene I often see in my own home-a man pathetically but resolutely trying to take care of a baby. Last time, I laughed at their incapability to feed and diaper the tiny infant. This time, I found myself with a running commentary. "Pick the poor baby up and hold her already!" "Yes, the part of the diaper with the sticky tabs goes underneath the baby." "ALWAYS set the open bottle of baby powder down gently unless you want your apartment to to look like the Alps in January." "If you let that drug dealer walk off with that poor innocent baby, I will personally hunt you down and kill you even if you're just acting in a movie."

And of course, there are my ambivilent feelings towards the absent mother. How could a caring mother leave her baby on the doorstep of a man she barely knew with no supplies, instructions, etc.? If I were to abandon my daugher (which I probably won't have a strong desire to do until she turns 13 anyways), she would be found with 27 days worth of diapers and wipes, enough food to feed a small third-world country (which, knowing Princess, would be thrown out anyways), and painfully detailed instructions pertaining to every mundane detail of her life. She would also be found with a box full of nearly new toys (because she prefers to play with the tv remotes and her dad's dirty socks) to play with, a full wardrobe of clothes for temperatures ranging from South African to Icelandic, and an array of sippy cups and brightly colored toddler forks.

Before I became pregnant with Princess, I could watch movies or tv shows with child abuse or abduction or any of those other terrible things that can happen to kids without feeling too much sorrow or anger. I would be saddened and disgusted at the atrocities, but could turn off the tv and go about my daily business without it affecting me. Now, I become outraged to the point of throwing knives at the tv whenever the "bad guys" come on the screen and so distraught that I can't function normally for several days. That may not be my kid, but I feel as if it's the job of the adults in this world to protect and care for children and when I see a child being neglected or abused, it makes me wonder who messed up the brains of the adults around them.

Unsolicited Advice:
Save some money on cable or satelite bills. If you have the internet, you can watch almost any show anytime with limited commercials online. My favorite sites are veoh.com, hulu.com, and of course, youtube.com

It's YOUR Turn

Last night, I went into Princess's room to check on her before I went to bed like I always do. Like usual, as I tiptoed past her dresser, Hubby hissed from the doorway, "Get out of there, you're going to wake her up!" And like usual, I shot a glare in a his direction and continued my stealthy trek to the crib to watch Princess sleep peacefully with her tiny derriere up in the air. The hubby just doesn't understand the magnetic pull a sleeping child has on its mother. After watching and chasing said child in raucous endless circles around the house all day, to see her motionless and quiet is mind-boggling and gives the mother a serene calm that will help her sleep peacefully until the race begins again the next morning.

There have been times that, while I tread softly across the baby blue plush carpet in Princess's room, she has sighed loudly or turned over in her sleep. When she does this, my split second reaction is to drop to the floor like a lead balloon and pray that she didn't open her eyes and catch a glimpse of me. I know from experience, that if she does see me in her room, she will be inconsolable if I try to leave without picking her up. That leads to a long night filled with crying and devoid of sleep. And the crying comes from both me and Princess when she refuses to let me put her back in her crib.

Princess was sick yesterday and so she didn't sleep well last night. At 11:34 pm, I got up to give her another dose of infant tylenol. Upon returning to bed, I nudged (okay, punched) my husband into wakefulness to inform him that since I had to get up in the morning and go to work and he did not, Princess was his responsibility for the rest of the night hours.
After my alarm went off this morning and I had hit the snooze button 14 times, I rolled over and poked my husband. "It's just my luck that the night it's your turn to get up with Louise, she sleeps until morning." I grumbled, slightly irritable because I felt that he deserved to know what it felt like to be up 11 times in one night. He glared at me through bleary eyes. "I spent half the night rocking her back to sleep."
Mollified, I got up and got ready for work while Hubby began sawing z's again. Princess's usual MO is to wake up for the day around 8 or 8:30 am so I tried not to feel too sorry for him, knowing that he would get at least another hour of sleep before daddy-duty began. Walking past Princess's room on my way to the bathroom, I glanced in her open door to see two big brown eyes staring at me from between the bars of her crib. I thought perhaps, she would fall back asleep if I just kept going, but that proved to be erroneous. So I went into her room, picked up my crying daughter and gave her a hug and a kiss before plopping her on the bed next to her soon-to-be-awake father.

Let me clarify something though.Princess  is an incredibly good sleeper except for when she's sick. And she always get sick when Hubby has to get up early and go to work and I get to "stay home and relax all day." (His words, not mine!) And so, on the rare occasion that she does get sick when he has the day off, I maybe enjoy my sleep a little too much. Maybe not.

Unsolicited Advice:
When going on a long trip in the car or maybe an airplane, buy some small toys at the dollar store and wrap each one in wrapping paper. For each hour (or half hour, or 7 minutes depending on your child's boredom level), give your child one to open.

Just a Few Words...

My best friend had a baby this month. Because I have given birth once and have a 17 month old child, I am thus qualified as a childbirth and parenting expert. Therefore, I have been overflowing with advice for her. She has been very accomodating, pretending to listen to my words of wisdom and then ignoring it completely just as she should. Her son is nothing like my daughter so much of what I tell her is ineffective and worthless to her. However, there are several things about motherhood that I have found to be basically the same no matter who you are or what your child is like. They don't fall under the category of advice, but they're helpful to know before you become a mother anyways.

1. I never thought I could feel so deeply and so much before. I was under the impression that I was "deep" and reflective before I had my daughter. I journaled constantly about everything no matter how mundane and pathetic it was. The moment I gave birth to Princess, I was inundated with incredible love, joy, protectiveness, anger at the world for not being perfect for my helpless baby who had to grow up in it, and trepidation at starting my new life as a mommy. Those feelings haven't changed since then. They aren't as overwhelming, but they're still there. Incidentally, I don't journal much anymore. When I do, it's a quick note in my daughter's baby book to jot down her latest achievement. It's not that I'm too busy-I still have plenty of time when she's napping, it's that I don't need to journal anymore. And strangely enough, I don't miss it as much as I thought I would.

2. I had no idea the Mama Bear instinct would be so strong. I have been the proud owner of a beautiful tortoiseshell cat for over 9 years now. Due to allergies, she's an outdoor cat, but very spoiled nonetheless.Princess  was playing outside one day and I was reading a book on the porch keeping an eye on her. She was petting my cat and, having been taught to be gentle with the kitty, was doing just that. As I turned a page, out of the corner of my eye I saw my cat take a sudden swipe with her open claws at my innocent child. It took me precisely 1.7 seconds to cover the 6 yards to the cat who took an unscheduled flying lesson while I simultaneously swooped up Princess to soothe her. I love my cat, but DON'T MESS WITH MY KID!!!

3. I have always been shy and terrified of inconveniencing or disagreeing with other people (my husband wouldn't necessarily agree with this statement, but it's true. It just doesn't apply to him.) After Princess was born, I found myself ready to speak up at a moment's notice in front of a room full of people if something affected my child in a way I wasn't okay with. I do cut some slack when it comes to the grandmas because I know they've waited a long time to be able to spoil grandchildren and I don't want to be the one to take that away from them. However, let someone else try to feed Princess something with peanut butter (I'm waiting until she's 2 so there's less of a chance of allergies), or take away her pacifer after I've given it to her and I right there bristling with righteous anger. Yes, I understand that I can't always stand up for her like that, but right now she's still a baby and if I don't, who's going to?

Unsolicited Advice:
To keep your child occupied while you're waiting in the examination room (since you're probably there so often with a small child), bring along some crayons and let him or her color on the examination table's paper covering.

Do I Really Want Another?

My daughter, Princess, is now 16 months old and 20 pounds.  She was born a small 6 pounds 14 ounces after being almost 2 weeks late. Personally, I think the doctor didn't know how to use the birth calendar right because a 2 week late baby is generally more than 6 pounds 14 ounces. But I digress. She was a good baby. No colic and pretty easy to please as long as she had plenty to look at. She was incredibly alert from birth and stared at everything with huge brown eyes. At a few weeks of age, she could already hold her head up and she could sit with very little support at a few months.

As cute as a newborn baby is, I would gladly skip the first few months in a baby's life and head straight for the precocious 3 month old. At that age, they interact more, are starting to get on a schedule, eat less often than every 87 minutes, and don't cry as much simply for the fact that they are better able to entertain themselves. Although, I've been told by numerous resentful mothers that I better not complain seeing how my daughter slept through the night at the ripe old age of 5 weeks. I will go through the uncertain, insane newborn stage again if it means that I get to have another child. Maybe next time, it will be easier because I've been through it before. Wait a second, I have to give myself a reality check......................okay, done. Let me rephrase that. Maybe next time, it will be just as hard or harder because I will be caring for a toddler and a newborn without the added benefit of sleeping when the baby does and not getting off the couch for anything except to go to the bathroom or refill the enormous water bottle so necessary to a breastfeeding mother. Oh yes, and everything I learned about caring for a newborn will be obsolete because each child is so vastly different that everything that worked on my firstborn will probably irritate my second child to no end.

I can't wait to have another baby.

Unsolicited Advice:
When shopping or traveling with your child, write your cell phone number on a slip of paper and pin it to your child's shirt. This way if he or she runs off and gets lost, you can be reached. Oh, and make sure you have your cell phone with you, charged, and turned on if you're going to do this.

Pregnancy

I've always wanted to be a mommy. When I was little, I collected baby dolls like some people collect key chains. I knew each of their names and mothered them to pieces (literally, at times). So when I got married, I was slightly disappointed at my husband's insistence that we wait a few years to have a baby. Unfortunately for him, I got my birth control information from my mother who couldn't wait to be a grandma. So 7 months after our wedding, we got some unexpected news. I was excited, he was stunned. "What if we put it up for adoption?" he asked right before ducking the microwave that was flying at his head. We mutually decided to keep our child and plunged headfirst into pregnancy. Once I stopped throwing up every 4 1/2 seconds, things went pretty well. Unfortunately, I was one of those people who don't "show" until they're about 8 months into the pregnancy. Nope, I just looked chubby. I was thrilled to be pregnant and wanted everyone to know I was. So, at 7 1/2 months pregnant, it was a little insulting to be asked at the checkout if I wanted a gift receipt with the onesie i was buying. To add insult to injury, as I was getting into my car which I had parked in the "expectant mothers" parking spot, a middle-aged woman stopped me. Pointing at the sign with a picture of a stork prominently displayed, she said, "This parking spot is for pregnant women, you know." I decided to take the high road and not show her my raging pregnancy hormones so I simply got in my car and left.