Two New Babies: One Real Kind and One Master Bath
Mr. Big: Is it time to go? I think it’s time to go, don’t you? She looks like she’s ready.
Mr. Big: Perhaps, but look at MY face. Have I reached a sufficient level of discomfort?
Bless his heart. Little did he know, his troubles were just beginning. I forgot that Mr. Big’s only experience with babies and childbirth is what he personally experienced with our own children. Me, on the other hand, I worked for seven years as an administrator on a High Risk Pregnancy floor in a huge teaching hospital and I have seen everything you can imagine.
I have seen a baby born in a toilet to a mother who thought she had eaten a bad enchilada. I have seen a 44 year old first time hippy-dippy mother who brought her baby back to our office a month after his birth complaining that he wasn’t growing. WELL, MAYBE BECAUSE, TWIGGY, YOU ARE FEEDING HIM A MACROBIOTIC DIET OF VINEGAR, WILD RICE AND NON-PASTEURIZED COW’S MILK. (Here’s a hint, new moms, if it is curdled in the bottle, it might not be the ideal nourishment for junior). I have seen moms with cancer, moms with kidney disease, crack head moms and moms with a history of consanguineous twins all give birth. I have seen a mom give birth, successfully, to a baby who was growing OUTSIDE of her uterus which she had previously injured in a car crash. There ain’t nothin’ I ain’t seen when it comes to birthin’ no babies.
Which brings me to the period immediately after the birth of our own precious Grand Three. Breast fed babies eat constantly. Ergo, there will be an exposed breast somewhere around at all times. It’s pretty much a given. After the third time that Mr. Big waltzed in the room only to confront a breast that did not belong to his wife, he learned to knock. Helllooooow! I’m coming in! A man who should not be seeing a boob is coming in! Fair warning! I’m counting to three!
For example, do you remember when you were hanging out with your grandparents and your parents were not there and your grandparents would INDULGE YOUR EVERY WHIM? Yeah, good times, huh? Grand Two is 6 and he wanted to go for Mexican. (For all of you Europeans, when Americans say that they want to go for Mexican, they are not saying that they want to go to Cancun. They are saying that they want to go EAT some Mexican food). So, while noshing on some scrumptious chimichangas, Grand Two asks, slyly, if I have a quarter.
GRAND TWO: GoGo, do you have a quarter?
ME: An American quarter? No, son, I don’t think I do, sorry. I have other kinds of money, though.
GRAND TWO: Do you have ANY American money? (thinking to himself, I’m sure, you worthless grandma, you).
ME: Yes, I have a five dollar bill.
GRAND TWO: Is there any way to make that into a quarter?
ME (still completely in the dark about his ulterior motive): Yes, but you have to ask that girl up there at the cash register for change.
GRAND TWO: OK! See ya! (as he snatches my five dollar bill out of my hand).
Twelve minutes later Grand Two comes back to the table with his hands in his little Wrangler jeans pockets. He proceeds to pull out pounds and pounds and pounds of Skittles out of every compartment and orifice on his body. Wow, Grand Two! That is quite a haul! Where is my change?
Change? What change? You should have seen, GoGo, how many quarters I got for your money! It was amazing! What did you think was taking me so long? It took foooreeeeever to spend all of those quarters! You rock, GoGo.
Yes, Little Man, I know. But, let’s not tell your Mom or Dad about this, shall we? This is just a Grand Two and GoGo secret, right? That you consumed 5 dollars worth of stale candy? Our little secret, dude.
ME: Well, how is she? Is she everything you thought she would be and more? Is she growing? Is she sleeping? Is she doing any tricks that I need to know about?
This is the difference between being the parent of the father and the parent of the mother. #SheIsSomewhereBetween7and14pounds. Perfect.
After cleaning it and applying a coat of spray paint, I restrung the crystals in a different configuration and added some black crystals that I bought on the internet. Voila! Designer chandelier!
I’m going to try to get this post up and running and maybe one other before we are scheduled to go back for a quick trip to America to check on Grand Three. Just wait until all y’all are grandparents. They tug at your heartstrings in a completely different way than your own children did. I think it has something to do with the fact that you are not personally losing any sleep. They represent 100% joy and 0% angst. The first thing I am going to do is weigh her. I’m just not comfortable with this whole “diaper package” system.