Over the past few weeks since I have written last I have been doing pretty much the same thing.... holding Avery. The lack of posting is because it is incredibly difficult to type without any free hands as well as the fact that holding an upset baby is not really something to write home about. OK moving on....
So now that Avery is getting a little bigger we are starting to venture out every now and then which brings on the "baby people." I had forgotten completely about them since I haven't encountered many of them since Alison was little. If you don't know who I am referring to, then you probably have never had small children. I will let you in on this just so you can prepare. Every time you leave the house with a baby (it doesn't really matter where you are going because pretty much any place applies) you will run into a "baby person." They look perfectly normal in most cases, but they possess the uncontrollable urge to come and talk to you and the baby. They will keep you from whatever task you have set out of the house to do and inevitably make your errands twice as long as intended. It is a completely maddening experience when you are standing in the checkout line and the 23rd baby person you have encountered today is standing right in your way keeping you from unloading your groceries from the cart because they are talking idiot baby talk and asking me a million things that I have already answered at least 22 times in the last hour. I am all for people telling me that my kids are cute (because they really are) but the problem here lies in the obvious fact that it is not a matter of IF your baby will freak out while you are needing to get things done but rather WHEN they will freak. These baby people keep stopping you and each time they do, you feel that creeping feeling that something very bad is getting ready to happen. If there were a soundtrack to this, I would imagine that it would be the nu-na......nu- na......nu-na, nu-na, nu-na of Jaws playing in the background. OK,OK I know that a shark isn't going to attack me, but when my "quick" trip to the store has now gone WAY over my time allotted and Avery is seconds away from letting go of an enormous amount of toxic poop into her diaper, which will cause her to scream at the top of her lungs, which then causes her to puke all over you and the last clean outfit she has, the shark thing doesn't sound so bad.
The good thing is I have come up with a brilliant solution to this problem... I will create a list of answers to just hand to them so I can be on my way and avoid a meltdown (technically two because it will save me AND her from losing it). And since they all ask the exact same questions this will be easy.
It will go something like this....
Her name is Avery. She is 2 1/2 months old. She it not my first child. I have another daughter named Alison who is 5 years old. Alison loves her baby sister and has adjusted well. Avery is a good baby( which is so much easier to say because if I tell you the truth then you will try to "fix her" which is another story all together). Yes we think she looks just like_____ (insert one of six different people that usually fits here.) Thank you, we think her eyes are pretty also. See you later. Thanks for taking an interest in her. Yes, I will take good care of her now that you suggested it. (I was going to do it anyway, but I like to let you think that it was all your idea.)
OK, wow! So it looks like I need to cut myself off for today. Maybe next time will be a LITTLE less cynical and sarcastic. And seriously thanks for taking an interest in Avery. (but if I see you in the grocery store could you do it in 1 minute or less ;)
