Babies freak me out.
I am not a baby person.
I loved my own babies, more than I would have thought possible.
But in general? I am not a baby person.
When someone hands me a baby? I tend to hold it as though the mother has asked me to hold her purse as she enters a public bathroom stall. All awkward and slightly away from myself.
This purse?
This is so not my fucking purse.
As soon as its owner finishes wiping her ass?
I am so giving this purse back to her.
People tend not to hand me babies.
Snort.
So it amuses me no end to see Maj’s discomfort with her youngest cousin, who is nine months old. Yes, there is the germ thing. Maj hates germs. But also? There is just a general uneasiness.
The other day, I asked Maj to stand guard over her youngest crawling cousin as Kallan and I arranged lunch. Maj’s job was just to keep the baby on her blanket.
“You going to be OK, Maj?”
“Yes, Mother. How hard could it be?”
The baby immediately crawls off of the blanket.
And then Maj stands tall and erect over the baby and yells down instructions, “NO, BABY! STAY, BABY! STAY, BABY! STAY!”
And the baby heads off for parts unknown.
And Maj, still standing straight and tall, arms at her sides, yells after her cousin, “COME BACK HERE! STAY ON YOUR BLANKET! NO, BABY! NO!”
Kallan is in giggly tears, “The baby is sooooo taking advantage of Maj!”
“STAY, BABY! GET BACK HERE AND STAY!”
Maj is all annoyed, “Someone needs to help me here. The baby is going crazy.”
I pick up the baby, put her back on her blanket.
Maj stares down at her cousin with cranky eyes and crossed arms, “I told you I was never going to be a babysitter. Didn’t I tell you that, Mother? Children don’t listen to me. And babies? I have bad experiences with babies.”
Snort!
Although I remember a bad experience with a baby.
The worst experience I have ever had with a baby who was not my own.
Hands down.
It was during the summer break after my first year of law school, long before I had my own children. I was wandering around campus and ran into two women I knew from class. One of them was pushing a stroller. I didn’t know either woman well, but I couldn’t just fail to acknowledge the fact that one of them was now a mother. So I went over and said hello and oohed and ahhhed over the baby.
Because that’s what you do.
The baby was cute in the way most new babies are cute.
By which I mean not that cute.
Anyway.
Because I was not a mother and I didn’t think the baby was that cute, I tried to steer the conversation to law school topics. We chatted for a bit.
The baby sucked on its hand.
Babies do that. I am not an idiot.
But then my attention was caught by the fact that the baby was really sucking on its hand.
Jesus! I had no idea a baby could stick that much of its hand into its mouth!
I kept talking, but now? I was slightly panicked.
The baby had shoved its entire right hand into its mouth. And I was the only one who had noticed this fact. The other women kept talking and chatting, and I was consumed with the certainty that I should speak up.
How was this baby able to breathe with its hand stuffed into its mouth like that? It was going to choke and perhaps die right in front of me! It was eating itself!
The baby shoved the hand deeper into its mouth.
Well past the wrist.
FUCK!
I freaked out.
But still I said nothing, because the baby was all happy! Looking up at me with shiny eyes and a face covered with slobber. All content.
I could not stop staring.
How was the baby doing this?
What the fuck?
I waited for all hell to break loose, for the mother to notice and shriek for paramedics.
Or an excorcist.
But instead?
As I stared?
The baby pulled its arm out of its mouth.
And the hand?
Was gone.
OK, I was so freaked out at this point that the thought did flash through my mind . . . the baby just ate its hand! The baby just ate its hand! Oh my fucking god!
My heart was racing.
But then the mother reached down and wiped her baby’s arm stump with a soft towel. She looked up at me and smiled pityingly at the look on my face, “Oh, didn’t you know? It runs on my husband’s side of the family. She’ll get fitted for prosthetic hands later.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
How the fuck would I have known that?
How do you not open with that information?
The baby stared up at me with laughing eyes. Waved its handless arms in the air.
Crazy fucking woman, using her child’s deformity for her own amusement.
I wonder whatever happened to that woman?
She would have been awesome at this blogging thing.
Hee hee!
Holy effing crap! Baby fisting!
You outdo yourself, Kris. Every. Single. Time.
Also – heck, that mom deserved to get some kicks out of the child’s handlessness. I would!
Seriously . . . she would have kicked ASS as a blogger.
I know she impressed the hell out of me.
Baby fisting.
I considered that as a title.
And then reconsidered.
SNORT!
love it!! so sick and so twisted. So glad to have found a kindred spirit!!
What?
I am all fucking normal over here.
What?
Why can’t you just post nice little stories about what you baked today or how you just don’t know how to balance mommy blogging with housewifery duties or how you love being a parent so much you could just scream and bleed from the eyeballs.
Why is everything with you such a freak storm of Stephen King daydreams?
Jesus, woman.
I mean really.
Just really.
You know you love me.
Pretty fucking obvious by this point, I would think.
Happy sighs.
Nigel, you are just too poetic, “freak storm of Stephen King daydreams.”
I am dying. Just dying.
I like how Maj talks to the baby like she’s a dog. At 10 months when you tell my son to stay or come back he turns around and laughs in your face. Then keeps going wherever he was going.
Maj soooo sounded like she was talking to a dog.
Plus also?
Our dogs?
Totally ignore Maj.
Totally.
Heh. At least she has consistency in her life.
It is one of the terrible ironies in Maj’s life.
She knows all of the answers.
But no one will listen to her.
So sad.
Great. Now I’ve got that stupid Dashboard Confessional song stuck in my head. Thanks.
And yeah, that mom should not have let you discover that critical piece of information on your own. I bet that was highly disturbing. But funny when you tell it. Hee.
What song?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3JMb2ZJB4w
The voice. It is so annoying.
Ewwwww . . . that breathy little high voice passing as manly?
Ewwwwwww.
I also enjoy Maj yelling at the baby like it is a dog. I was lousy with babies & children in general myself. Not quite that lousy, but still pretty bad. And ironically? Children/babies always *Love* me. It has been that way since I was a tween. Animals love my husband. Babies love me. WTF.
Also? Love the baby fisting. First? Because of all the weird creepers that you’ll probably get from all of us pervs leaving terms like “baby fisting” in your comments. And secondly? Because I would totally fuck with people if my baby had no hands…once I had accepted that my baby had no hands. There has to be some kind of respect period or something beofre you start fucking with people with your handless baby.
Snort.
Creepers. Snort!
That respect period?
Pretty damn short in this case . . . the baby was no more than two months old.
i am all snorting hummus all over the table here.
sigh.
much love (and baby fists)
Hee hee!
Love and baby fist-bumps to you.
WHY didn’t you scream out “It’s got no hand! It’s got no hand!” I would have. For shits and giggles only.
Because I am all kinds of appropriate small talking over here.
Shut up.
I so am.
Also?
I was way too flustered to mount any sort of offensive.
At all.
Oh jeez! That is fantastic. “The baby just ate it’s hand!” Babies are terrifying little creatures until you have a few and get the hang of being around them. Everytime some fool plops a baby into my arms I get all panicky. Like I’m going to break it or something. “This is not my baby/toy/precious belonging,” I think to myself. “I will mess this up and then there will be trouble.”
Also, they drool.
Yes, the drooling is gross.
But this . . .
I will mess this up and then there will be trouble.
Made me laugh.
You are Maj-ish in nature, I think.
Hmmm… yes, I may have an inner-Maj lurking around in here. She gets all irritated with my inner-Kallan. My psyche is a conflicted place. ;)
Oooooh . . . Maj and Kallan fighting it out for Queen of the Mountain status in your psyche?
YIKES!
I know, right?
I need an aspirin…and a drink…followed by a nap. lol
I got slammed once because I said that some babies were not cute. I was so tired of being bombarded with emails with pictures of babies and having to come up with replies that talked about how cute the baby was when I really didn’t think so. I swore that if my baby was not cute, I would not send out a picture of him.
But I did anyway.
Because he is cute.
Or at least I think so.
My babies?
Were fucking gorgeous.
Except I was looking at baby photos of the girls the other day?
And they just looked like babies.
Not that cute.
Mom glasses, I think.
Because just between the two of us?
Not all babies are cute.
Not even.
Puppies on the other hand?
Cuteness galore.
Oh my god . . . puppies?
Swoon.
I cannot keep my hands off puppies.
Swoon.
I sure as hell did not see THAT one coming. I mean most babies can put their whole had in their mouth up to the wrist but really, NO HANDS! On the other hand(…) that Mom has your sense of humor Kris. F’em if they can’t take a joke.
Yes . . . that mom was lovely.
But I did not see that in the moment.
I was all kinds of horrified and pissed off.
Now, however?
Looking back?
She fucking rocked.
Maj has a natural gift for babies…make that puppies.
The handless baby, priceless. Turn a negative into a positive.
Snort!
That child?
Is going to need some big therapy.
And that mom and I?
Could have grown to be good friends.
But the timing was wrong.
OMG! I thought you were joking! hahahahahahaha!
Hee hee!
I do not bluff.
If I say I have the cards of inappropriateness?
I so fucking have them.
holy shit.
Exactly.
You gotta hand it to that woman.
How else can she get through the day?
Required to warn everyone about the lack of hands?
What a drag that would be.
Better to surprise people. Ha!
Yes.
I see now that she was pretty awesome.
But she freaked me?
All the fuck out.
Did Marion really just type, “You gotta hand it to that woman”?
Really, Marion, with a straight face?
Marian, damn it, I can spell. And since I know Kris won’t fix this, I had to.
I can spell. I swear it.
I am so not fixing it.
Hee hee!
Oh my god!
How did I miss that?
Snorty giggles now!
I typed it
You can edit that one. Typing too fast for comments? Huh.
I typed it WITHOUT a straight face, but didn’t have the heart to point out my hilarious wit to Kris, who was all I WAS TRAUMATIZED, PEOPLE. So thank you, Nichole, for noticing and commenting on my brilliance.
But, we should really hand it to Kris for surviving this horrifying encounter and telling us all about it.
Hmmmph.
Smart-ass.