In the past couple of a days I’ve gotten to take care of my nephew, Korey. It was the most exciting thing I did all weekend.
Insert: Cooing sounds & Bragging rights
He’s such a good baby. Almost perfect really. –I know that every mother (or even in this case Aunt) would say that that child is (of course) perfect. I get it. But!Seriously he is. Almost.
I picked him up & even from minute one we were a go. We giggled in the car. I would coo his name & whip my head around to catch his eyes in the backseat & oh if you could hear his laugh. Sidetrack: His laugh is the best. Hands down. He takes it over the top. Every. Single. Time. Which is what makes it so gold. He will literally draw every bit of oxygen out of his lungs to complete a laugh. :End Sidetrack. We had so much fun in the car that I knew we’d hit it off. We played & played. He is still in the beginning stages of walking but what I like to do is encourage him to come to me while he walks and when he gets just about there I come at him roaring (and making other indescribable baby-ing sounds. Embarrassing in front of anyone other than him? Yes.) and he gets so excited that he begins walking but quickly begins crawling like a true machine. It was awesome. He had begun to mock the roar and would occasionally turn back to see if I was still coming. That little ham. Ahhh I see the joys in parenting.
I also saw the downside. I could not get him to go to bed until three am & even so something woke him up at five forty am. Killer. Mother instinct kicked in and at the shear sound of a whimper I was up. I attempted to figure out what caused the excessive fussyness since he would not just go back to sleep. Ahh sleep. I took off his very warm pajamas, changed his diaper, offered him his bottle and it as strike one, strike two, and strike three. I did think I was out. Honestly. I envisioned the future of me being very tired and cranky. I rocked him for forty minutes before his eyelashes had stopped occasionally batting and laying him down in his crib without a fuss was a success. He slept until one pm. That made me a proud momma (so to speak) and I was so delighted that I got to get back to bed & he would be well rested when he awoke. I got up at ten thirty am (not knowing but hearing the horrifying stories about mothers getting not even a second to do a load of laundry or the inability of swiping on a layer of lipstick) to get ready (at least. bare minimum.) and try to do some cleaning while he was sleeping. Piece of cake. I managed to get ready, mop the floors, clean the bathroom & kitchen, dust and straighten up the living room and get his breakfast and clothes ready before I even thought about getting him up. Phew. Did I earn my badge in mothering boot camp yet?
We ran our errands after he enjoyed his nanas and applesauce and I almost loved the looks I was getting in my everyday routine with familiar strangers. This guy at the bank who I believe has a crush on me was so intrigued that despite him not waiting on me he had to get on the action. Asking if he was mine, how old, how cute, that I was too young to be a mother, etc. I thought it was kind of funny. & I’ve noticed older people just love babies. Most of them could the be grandparents of the world if you let them. Don’t you agree?
Anyways, for being such a good baby for the entire time I had him and giving my arm such a workout I decided to get him ice cream and take him home. Oh if you saw this baby and his ice cream. I’ll capture it sometime.
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I’ve got a temporary baby envy high/fever at the moment so excuse all that babbling. I’ll sum it up with this: