Mommies Group

What we learned at Play Group (for 0-3 month old babies) today:

1. Max is a VERY verbal baby. He might not be talking yet, but he made all sorts of sounds to let the group know that he was there.

2. Max is quite flirtatious. He was lying on his blanket next to Baby L., and couldn’t stop smiling at her! Then he was reaching out to try to tap her on the shoulder, and chatting with her non-stop. He would give her a huge gummy grin….he even ignored his other girlfriend, Baby S., when she tried to share her toy with him! When Baby L. wouldn’t respond, Max gave her a big WHAT-EVER and spit up.

3. There are MANY different kinds of mommies. There are mommies who have daddies who help them and daddies who don’t. And there are even mommies who have hired babysitters to watch their NEWBORNS so that they can take a shower, go to the gym, etc. Hmmmmm….shall I keep my thoughts on that to myself? 😉

4. Some mommies wear trendy “skinny jeans” to playgroup. Those mommies should just stay home. With their nannies.

5. Other babies barf on their mommies. Other mommies sometimes don’t see when their babies barf over their shoulder and on to the little “Mommy chairs” that are around the circle. Which makes me feel better that I completely missed Max barfing on his blanket (his head WAS turned away from me!) because I was listening intently to the group leader talk about how important it was for mommies to have a “Girls Night Out” without the baby on a regular basis. Hmmmmm…

6. While all of us Mommies love our babies more than anything in this world, sometimes we totally suck at this job. Now most of the time we’re all really damn good, and patient, and loving, and we know what to do when things go wrong. And sometimes we don’t. Like yesterday when Max and I were visiting Kerrin and Max pooped himself (and his entire outfit, and his carseat). And it was 93 degrees out. And there was no bathroom in the sandwich shop. So I gave myself a moment to think (and SAY out loud, because it’s Kerrin, and she’s next 😉 “What the FUCK am I going to do???”. And then I remember that “I’m his MOM. It is my job in life now to FIGURE IT OUT.” And really, life sucked more for HIM at that moment than it did for me. So I took him outside to the car (couldn’t use the tailgate because it was way too hot and the AC wouldn’t really reach back there). Opened up the front passenger door (blasting the AC at the same time) and tried to disrobe him on the front seat, but alas, it’s tilted and he kept sliding down (poopy clothes and all) into the crack. At this point he’s laughing. So I pull out his blanket (a cheapie one that we’re not attached to, thank god) and put it on the floor on the passenger side. If he was any bigger this trick would not have worked. I then proceed to try to change him while bending over into the area underneath the glove compartment. He’s not laughing any more. So now I’m trying to take his jumper off by sliding it past his hips and over his butt and legs, because going the other direction would get poop in his hair. I throw the outfit on the ground outside the car. Then I take his diaper off and try to clean him up as much as possible. Max is squirming and fussing now, as I’m throwing diaper wipes on the ground one after another. I felt so bad for him that at one point I picked him up and held him for a few minutes, his little naked butt soaking in the sunshine (PRAYING the whole time that he would see this for the peace offering it was, and not pee on me). Finally, I put a clean diaper on him, dressed him in a fresh onesie (3 Mommy Points for keeping a change of clothes in the diaper bag at all times), picked up the blanket/wipes/poopy outfit, and threw EVERYTHING in the trash.

And sometimes we’re GREAT at this. Like when MY baby, out of 15 other babies, calmly drank his bottle at playgroup nestled in my arms. And then burped after each ounce. And then layed on his blanket and moved his arms and legs, talking to all of the other babies and smiling away. And then let me rock him to sleep in my arms, kissing his forehead and swelling with pride at what an adorable, perfect, brilliant little boy I have.

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