About Sweetmama Editor
Nadine Silverthorne’s love of journaling began in Grade One with the entry, “I am the greatest dancer!” Two babies (and countless diaper changes) later, she has found her home away from home as editor of SweetMama. Don’t miss her humorous bi-weekly accounts of the joys and pains of working while raising them fabulous.
Most of the time, the young childless Sweetspotters look aghast when I horrify them with my True Mom Tales. (And then hit snooze on their biological clocks.) But when Ashleigh McKenna, Sweetspot's National and Toronto Editor, came in with her story of Babyspotting this weekend, well it was just too funny not to share in a guest post.
Babies kind of scare me*. Not in the same way horror movies make me cry (and by movies I mean previews), but with soft spots, nonverbal communication and an immediate lack of neck strength, they’re a lot for a non-mom to take in.
So Saturday was the first time I’d been left entirely on my own with an infant. My brother and sister-in-law had a gorgeous little girl five months ago and even though I love hanging out with her, it’s mainly been helping out when Mom’s just upstairs or holding her only once I’m firmly on the couch (I’m like the seven-year-old in a family photo who’s only cradling for show). But this was the new mom’s first time seeing a movie in six months and I agreed to fly solo.
She was down for a nap when I arrived (no, they don’t tend to stay down for 2+ hours even though I asked). 25 minutes into 30 Rock DVDs and she was up, but luckily is calm like her mom (and not neurotic like her aunt). Do all babies like bouncing this much? Between her chair that moves up and down, several solid rounds of peek-a-boo and me walking around, bending my knees and singing my bouncy song (that’s the grand total of the lyrics), we were good.
And new mom didn’t call once.
My mom on the other hand? She called four times (to be fair, I asked for the first Nanny check-in).
Sure, when the parents arrived home I was holding a sockless little girl in a blanket. (She kicks, and I couldn’t figure out how to get her tiny socks back on -- mine were already gone for fear of slipping.) And after my triumphant diaper change (which is any diaper change), I couldn’t get her pants all the way back up. Plus I think it was more onesie holding the diaper in place and less my skills with the adhesive strips.
Admittedly a little disheveled, but totally happy (the pair of us).
*I’m the baby of the family so I never had any around growing up. I loved babysitting but most parents don’t leave newborns in the hands of a junior high student, no matter how many Baby-sitter’s Club books they read (before jumping to Sweet Valley High). And my nephew was born well before I moved to Toronto.