Tuesday, February 24, 2015


My sister had her baby.

God help us all, he burps just as loud as she does, and he's only two weeks old. Shrek aspires to his potential.

Being with my sister in the hospital was...probably the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life, to be perfectly honest. Before she received her epidural, she was like the girl in the freaking Exorcist. No joke, she was nuts and absolutely terrifying and, given the choice between being there and having a tooth pulled at the dentist, I think I'll take the dentist.

I have held the baby, but only when he is wearing mittens. (I once held a baby as a child that stuck his finger up my nose and scratched me so bad that I bled. Quite a lot, actually. The blood ruined my nightgown and my Beanie Baby horse and I was screaming so loud my mother heard it all the way at the pool with her friends and came back to investigate.) I have only recently learned, however, that babies have mittens, not to protect the people holding them, to protect the babies from scratching themselves. 

I have established a set of rules, of course, to keep people from becoming confused.

I do not burp the baby.
I do not check the baby's diaper.
I certainly will never change the baby's diaper.
I will not hold a crying baby.
I will not change the clothes on the baby.
I will not hold the baby if he is gassy.
I WILL sing "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" to him if he is fussy, but not if he is already screaming. (Works like a charm, by the way. Calms him right down if I sing it before he hits his stride.)

Penny has her own rules for the baby.

Penny must kiss the baby every time he moves.
Penny must investigate anyone who wishes to approach the baby.
Penny must investigate whoever is holding the baby when he cries.
Penny must sit beside the baby at all times.

Choo Choo....

Well, she only has one rule, and it encompasses everything.

Choo Choo owns the baby.

And then there is Ripley, who has no rules for the baby because Ripley gets too excited around the baby and jumps around and tries to lick him on the face and scares people with his puppy exuberance because, let's not forget, Ripley just turned two years old. So Ripley isn't allowed around the baby until the baby is not so small and breakable. Or he learns how to be around children. (And let's face it: he's not going to get the opportunity to learn how to interact with children from Matthew and me.)

I also suspect that motherhood makes women lose their minds.

I was holding him today, and I thought something felt wet, so I said I thought he needed to be changed. My sister sniffed his butt. 

That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. Dogs sniff each each other's butts. It's disgusting to see people do that. Especially to determine if a diaper needs to be changed or not. It's also crazy, and not something I will ever do, thank you very much.

Of course, motherhood is crazy, and not something I will ever do, thank you very much.

But I would like another dog. Or a goat.

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