I’m starting to develop a reputation as a baby whisperer amongst the family. The second you come into my arms, you stop your fussing and yelling, and go back to being a cute sack of potatoes. It’s endearing and cute, but it’s really just luck. I still hold my breath every time someone hands you over to me in less-than-ideal condition…can’t let this streak go.
It’s flattering only because of how far I’ve come. It wasn’t all that long ago when your mother and I were visiting your cousin who was two at the time and still in the middle of potty training. Part of her pants had a growing stain and when I pointed it out, everyone was all up in arms about why I didn’t bring shustle her over to the bathroom. I don’t know! Or take the time when your other cousin was still a baby and being held horizontally in someone’s arms. I had never held a baby before so when it was my turn to hold, I fumbled around with her in my hands to the chorus of everyone’s laughter. Well, f*** them!
All this belies the truth of the matter which is this: your mother is the true baby whisperer in this relationship. While I may get all the superficial praise for having the ability to calm you without reason, your mother actually seems to understand what it is you want. She has this uncanny ability of knowing when you’re hungry versus tired versus gassy. To me, I just treat it like a Tamagotchi game where I’ll push all the buttons until one does the trick. Your mother can also smell your poop from across the room even with your clothes on. I can’t even smell it if I held your bum right up to my nose (that’s not to say I don’t smell it once I pop open that diaper…that’s a different story). So I’ve learned to just go with whatever your mother says (for child-re
aring and in general) and it usually does the trick.
But just look at the pictures. Who do you look happier with?