Baby Fever

My neighbor recently had her second son. A few friends are pregnant. Little Man adores babies. He loves to sit next to the infants at daycare. He will rock them. Talk to them and much to my dismay, try to kiss them. Why does he always seem to aim for the soft spot? All of this translates into a horrible case of baby fever; a fever my wallet does not share. I’ve stopped calculating how expensive this kid is. The day I stopped buying formula was a cause for a celebration and not just a happy dance in the store kind of celebration. Oh no, this was worthy of a black-tie ball! You see my son could only digest the most expensive formula on the market (an irony not lost on my parents mind you).

Now I dream of the day we leave diapers and wipes behind. Of course they will only be replaced by astronomical food bills, school supplies, sports equipment, and of course, college. You would think all of this would be enough to kill a fever but apparently my hormones are immune.

I think back to that tiny little munchkin who used to wake up at 5 AM to eat only to curl up in my arms and fall back to sleep until 8; his little hand holding my finger and occasionally whispering a sigh of content. I think of those first smiles, the first laugh, the first roll. I think I want another one.

It is amazing how the female brain works (humor me here people and agree that this is all females, not just me ok). I conveniently forget the other times. I forget sitting for 45 minutes doing nothing but popping a pacifier in his mouth. He so desperately wanted it but couldn’t hang on to it. I sat there thinking “Great. I’ve been reduced to pacifier patrol”.

I forget being so exhausted remembering to put shoes on when leaving the house was an accomplishment. As far as I know, I never left without shirt or pants. At least I think I never did since there is no police record.

When reminded, my response is” I am better prepared this time”. Um, yeah, sure. I am so prepared to deal with an infant and a toddler while sleep deprived.

Flashback to Little Man’s first week home. Time to change his diaper so up to the changing table we go. I’ve already experience the incredible arc and reach my little peanut has managed to attain in only a few short days and learned very quickly to cover said equipment less I want to spend more time on my hands and knees scrubbing or reaching well over my head, neither an easy task when recovering from a c-section. I don’t think about positioning.

Little Man let loose. Right into his eye.

He blinked. Nothing else. No flinch. No cry. Not even a whimper.

There was a shriek though.

From me.

The Saint (my husband) remains calm and tells me its ok. Just wipe his eye.

“Oh my GOD! Get my mom. Get my mom. NOW.”

“It’s fine honey. Just use the cloth in your hand to wipe his eye.”

“GET MY MOM NOW! What if he’s BLINDED!”

Yup. I am definitely ready to handle sleep deprivation, a newborn, and a toddler….