Gerber Pureed Pears - Now With Speed!

I love my nephew so much it makes me stupid. I always want to give him kisses and rub my chin on his soft little baby head. I love watching him grow and laugh and smile. And I lovelovelove that he isn't mine.

I spent Friday evening with my nephew (I'll call him Frog. You'll see why.) and his mother (Mom - duh). I arrived at their house around 4:30 and Mom was chilling on the sofa, watching a little TV. She said that she was debating on waking up Frog. I walked over to his pack n play, and lo and behold, he's awake. He looked up at me, and I saw the eyebrows go. Yup, he was gearing up for a squall. I picked him up and he calmed down a bit. Mom prepped his bottle as I smothered him with auntie love. Mom took him to feed him and things were quiet for about 10 minutes. After about half the bottle was gone, Frog got fussy. Burping didn't help much, so Mom decided that it was playtime.

Mom dumped him in one of those "surround baby with stimulation" rocky things. I'm sure there's some sort of smart-sounding name; I don't know it. Frog was happy. There are these 3 cylinders that when spun, make different noises. One is a weak-sounding bell, one is kind of a rattle, and one sounds like you're scratching a record. Frog looks to have a future as a DJ because he was all about the scritchascritch. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Frog looks to be teething, what with the rash and the drool. He happily sucked on my index finger; which is an odd sort of feeling. He started getting a little rammy again, so Mom moved him to his play mat. Sort of a mat with soft arches over it where you can attach various distractions. Frog was alternately amused and annoyed. Nothing seemed to hold his attention for very long. I picked him up and started lifting him up in the air. Pretty soon he was bending his knees as I dropped him to the ground, and straightening them as I lifted him. My little Frog. Anyway, I'm not in horrible shape, but hefting a 15lb baby over your head can be a bit tiring. Eventually my arms couldn't take it anymore and Frog had to content himself with sitting on my foot.

I suppose at this point you are wondering where the pears with speed thing comes in. Frog is at the age where he is getting some semi-solid food. Pureed fruit and this cereal that has a strong resemblance to caulk, mostly. Mom tried pears on Frog and he seemed to enjoy them. I mean, he blurped fruit and cereal all over the place, but that's what babies do. After fruit and caulk, it was bottle time again. Mom and I were hoping that he would nod off after the bottle so we could go pick up dinner and grab a movie. Things were looking good until Mom put Frog into his stroller. Oh no, he wasn't having that. Mom inserted the magic shut-up plug and silence descended.

He was relatively quiet as we got into the car and drove to the restaurant. There was a bit of whinging during the ride from the restaurant to Blockbuster. He was OK at Blockbuster, but by the time we got home, Frog was gearing up for some craziness. He didn't want the play mat, he didn't want the vibrachair, he didn't need a diaper change. Nope, Frog was cracked out on pureed pears. Mom wolfed down her dinner; barely tasting it, I'm sure, and rocked and rocked Frog. He was sort of calm during the movie (Airplane, in case you were wondering) and was flat-out by the end. Mom put him in the pack n play and he didn't even stir. This would have been great, if it weren't for the fact that the last feeding of the night was rapidly approaching. Mom went into the kitchen to prep the bottle. Poor Mom. It never ends.

That is why I don't want to have a baby. I love kids, but I don't think I have the proper temperament to be a parent. I know there are plenty of people out there who aren't suited to parenthood, but I wonder how many of them realize it. People are so inculcated/socialized into thinking that procreating is the way to go and they don't (generally) stop to wonder if it is the way to go. Pfft. And sure, it may be different if I had a kid of my own, but what if it isn't? What if I'm so frustrated and angry and tired all the time? What if all that anger and frustration and exhaustion leads to bad things? I don't want to be in the paper because I end up being a lousy mom who can't control herself.

There's probably an element of selfishness there, too. I don't want to give up my quiet time, and what little disposable income I have. I don't want to have months of fractured sleep, and clothing stained with spit-up, and tons of baby crap all over my home and my car. I don't want to develop a tolerance for the Wiggles, Radio Disney, Chuck-E-Cheese and all the rest. Plus, I don't have the least desire to be knocked-up and then squeeze the kid out. If I ever have a kid, I will adopt the of the kids who are waiting patiently in orphanages and group homes for a family of his/her own.