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The hardest thing I have done in a month

08.12.09 | parenting | 12 Comments

I minded my own business.

Sure, I had to get up and move finally in order to do it, but I DID IT.

At pack meeting tonight (which if you don’t know what a pack meeting is, just be grateful and don’t ask), there was a crying baby. A one-month old. Mom fed her on one side and then had to go get something. Dad sat there, as the baby cried, and cried, and cried in her carseat.

She wasn’t starving, and she was in no immediate danger, but I felt my (non-existent) milk come in and just as I was about to start sobbing over the poor baby crying her little heart out, I pretended I needed another hot dog.

Maybe I should have asked to hold her. (I thought about it. I glanced at the baby, glanced at Dad). But Dad’s hands were free, and he’s not deaf. And my hands weren’t clean (I like people to wash their hands when it’s such a tiny baby).

And parents are different, or so I’ve heard.

It was none of my damn business (probably). Especially considering I can’t even say the word “babywearing” without dying a little inside, and I do let my babies (my slightly-older babies) cry at night. (Meaning the word “sleep-training” breaks me out in amphetamine-laced rainbows of anticipation).

But that little baby crying at the park tonight — I could almost feel the little peanut inside me reaching his hands (positive thinking on that — really I was going to say “her hands”) to me and crying the cry I’ll be able to recognize in a crowded churchhouse within minutes, and I can’t wait to hold him/her/it (knock on wood it won’t be an it) and work on our satiated drunken sailor look.

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