Malone isn’t sure what babies want
I keep hanging out with babies. Not on purpose. They seem to be following me. Everywhere I go: babies, babies, babies. Of course they’re not literally following me, that would be weird… (we’re not making a CGI nightmare here!) I mean my friends all seem to be ‘getting them’ at the moment. Next year the fad will be electric BBQs and people carriers. This year is babies. I’ve already had one, I don’t need another, do I?
“Being a new mother requires mind reading capabilities Derren Brown would be jealous of”
Babies don’t do much do they? What they do do, they do extremely well. Loud noises they excel at; being able to make you realise they need help is their forte. If only they could express what exactly. Being a new mother requires mind reading capabilities Derren Brown would be jealous of. A huge burp escapes the baby on my shoulder as I pat her back. I act like I know exactly what I’m doing. “There you go, that’s better!” I say, like I’m some sort of pro.
Sure I’ve had one baby, so I’m a professional right? Thing is, Grandma is correct; you do forget everything from those first years. Mine is only five, but I had forgotten how noisy and messy it all was… I’d forgotten how much jigging around on one hip there was, rubbing a small tiny warm ball of heartbeat, terrified to sit down in case the wailing started again. I never labelled it colic, just presumed all babies didn’t allow their mums to sit down. After all, it was our fault they had been catapulted out that tunnel from the warm hot tub they’d been enjoying for nine months. The first few weeks she was dazed, but then…she awoke (every night!)
Thus I declined into a daze for the next few years… I roused slightly at toddler stage to enjoy the hilarious cuteness of the wobbling walking baby but spent much time hiding behind an invisible Roman shield that I would peek over to pass carrot sticks and gloop. I could understand a little of the walking baby’s needs now, but she seemed angry about a lot of things. She got frustrated at everything. She was alright with standing, wobbling towards things, and grabbing on, but the word ‘no’ really got her back up. “No you can’t put pennies/buttons/rubbish found on the pavement in your mouth!” Learning what was good for her really, really annoyed her.
The walking baby found other people’s input really frustrating, unless they were passing the dummy back. That pesky dummy enjoyed that gravity lark; Mummy was good at picking it up. She was also good at putting food on a plate, but God forbid Mummy should try spoon feeding after 8 months… Spending time with friends’ babies I’m wondering if mine was just a particularly strong-willed one. Maybe I do enjoy these gorgeous gleaming beautiful baby beings! Oh, especially the handing back bit at full nappy time.
Illustration: Jake McDonald www.shakeyillustrations.blogspot.com
