Blast from the Past: Babyshitter

I used to write a blog (no, not this one) called Just Plain Chips. It was first hosted on Blogspot/Blogger (http://justplainchips.blogspot.com/) and then at a free Word Press blog site called Blogsome. I found out within the last year that Blogsome went down at some point and took all of my old posts with it. Sure, that's not really much of a loss and it was really my fault for not backing up my data and generally neglecting the site.

There were a few posts that I was actually proud of and one in particular has been on my mind in the last couple months. I had been back in the Twin Cities for just under a half year, my niece Elaina was about 3 months old, and I was called upon by my brother and sister-in-law to babysit. Not the babysitting where you're running around in the yard with a bunch of kids, or sitting on the couch watching Disney movies. No, this was actually watching a baby, a 3 month old baby. It was one of those seminal experiences that never quite leaves you and I was sad I couldn't read about it again. But through the magic of the internet (and my actually remembering to go looking) I was able to finally find a cached copy of the post.

So here it is, with only minimal editing (I couldn't help myself.) I hope you enjoy.

Babyshitter

posted on Saturday, August 13, 2005 10:18 am

Okay, so I babysat for Matt and Jenny last night. I got to their house and before they left Emily came over to get Luke. She was going to take him to see the demolition derby at the Dakota County Fair where Tom was working in the pit for one of the cars. So before babysitting even started I was down to only one kid.

I got there right about Elaina's feeding time so I made a bottle and she was happy to start eating. After two ounces I sat her up and started burping her. All of a sudden I feel a little rumbling on my leg and little “toot” noises coming out of my niece.

“What are you doing, little girl?” I asked her.
Matt laughed and told me, “It’s probably just gas.” and then to Jenny, “Let’s get out of here quick.”

So they took off and I fed Elaina the rest of her bottle. After she was done I played with her on the couch and on the floor and I walked her around. I checked her diaper at one point and lo, it was time for it to be changed. It didn’t seem to smell too bad, but I didn’t know for sure since my nose was a little stuffed up. I headed up stairs for my first ever diaper change with a little bit of worry over what I would find.

I opened up the diaper and there was nothing really to see. “Phew!” I let out a big sigh of relief and I went about changing my first wet diaper. It went pretty easy and I was quite proud of myself.
“Well,” I told myself, “I’m glad that’s over with.” and walked back downstairs with a happy baby.

We played and talked for another couple hours and it was about time for her next feeding. I made up another bottle and we started to go. But before long her eyes started drooping and she just wasn't interested in her bottle. Time for a nap. I set her in her little cradle/swing and she was out in a couple of seconds.

I took the opportunity to relax on the couch and watch the opening quarter of the Vikings' preseason game. After about a half hour Jenny’s parents showed up to say 'hi' to Elaina and drop off their laptop which I’m going to do a little work on. After they had been there for a few minutes Elaina woke up and smiled and cooed at her grandparents. When they left it was time to continue the feeding.

Elaina really took to her bottle at first but after a couple of minutes she suddenly didn’t seem as interested. Her face got all serious and scrunched up. Her legs kicked out straight and her toes curled up. I didn’t like the look of this. All of a sudden I heard a “toot” sound slightly different than before and another rumbling on my leg. And then it hit me…the smell! OKAY! My nose works and this is no false alarm. She did her scrunched face and straight leg thing a little more and then started crying. I felt like crying myself my nose and eyes were burning. So I carried her upstairs with outright dread this time.

I got her on her changing table and the smell continued to be pretty strong. But when I undid her diaper and raised her legs up it was as if something solid hit me in the face. The smell hit me again to complete the ol’ one-two combination. I looked down and saw nothing solid. Just a dark green goo with a paste-like consistency. It was completely nasty and there was a lot of it.

I set the diaper aside and went in with the wipes. They had looked so substantial a second ago. Now they seemed as dainty and strong as a lace doily. I would wipe what I thought was a significant amount of the stuff away but there was always more waiting underneath. I probably used three times the number of wipes that Jenny and Matt usually use. But I didn’t get any on my hands and Elaina was spotless when I was done.

The problem now became disposing of the diaper. Usually Matt and Jenny just wrap the diaper and the wipes into itself and toss the whole thing into the garbage. Not this time. I would have had to bend the laws of physics and geometry to accomplish such a feat without getting the muck on my hands; and that wasn’t going to happen. So I tucked the cleaner ends into the diaper as best I could and I got Elaina into a new diaper and then into her little swing. I went hunting for a suitable plastic bag. I finally found one and picked up the mass of diaper and wipes like you pick up your dog’s mess while out on a walk. A few twists and a knot and the bag went into the garbage. The crisis was over.

So I went and played with Elaina until about 9pm and made her the last bottle of the night. She easily drank down her 4 oz. She was tired while drinking but as soon as I sat her up to be burped she’d wake right up. I put her in her crib, she wouldn’t fall asleep. I put her in her swing, she didn’t fall asleep. I carried her around, she didn’t fall asleep. I put her in her crib again and she didn’t fall asleep right away, but neither did she cry about it. Before too long she was silent and blissfully slumbering.

Right after she fell asleep Tom and Emily brought Luke home. He had had a great time but it was way past his bed time. He resisted a little when I told him to come up stairs for bed, but not much. So we went to his bed and I read him a story about a frog. After the story was done I pulled up his covers and he turned over, holding the fire engine cards he got at the fair, and was out in just a couple of minutes.

Matt and Jenny got home a little less than an hour later and my time there was done. I think I’m a real babysitter now.

Things coming round

Clearly I haven't written here in too long. I apologize to my intrepid readers.

It isn't as though there hasn't been anything exciting going on.

I must also apologize to my future-self for not having documented the birth and first weeks of my son's life. It has been quite an experience to have a child. I'm responsible for more than just myself, which is not and unscary thought.

But what I came here to write isn't anything profound like that but only a passage I read lately that stuck with me.

I'm reading Bleak House by Charles Dickens on the recommendation of my mother-in-law after having enjoyed Moby-Dick, The House of the Seven Gables, and various other "classic" books. I've been enjoying it for the most part though, and this is strange to me because of my experience in reading epic fantasy, I'm having a bit of trouble keeping all of the characters straight.

Multiple disparate threads of the story are seemingly coming together ever so slowly as characters from one thread are starting to interact with those in other threads. Dickens did a nice thing in giving his characters unique, funny, and even descriptive names, but for some reason it isn't helping very much.

Anyway, the book was published in 1852 and 1853 and it was amazing to read something that must have been true back then but still so very true today and that hits home in my own life. I suppose that is what helps make something a classic.

Here is the setup and the passage:
Three men, Mr. Smallweed, Mr. Guppy, and Mr. Jobling are having dinner and afterwards turn to Mr. Jobling's prospects. Mr. Jobling has come into a streak of bad luck lately and has been leeching off of Mr. Smallweed for food and drink all evening. In the discussion Jobling utters this line followed by the narrator's commentary.

"Guppy," says Mr. Jobling, "I will not deny it. I was on the wrong side of the post. But I trusted to things coming round.
That very popular trust in flat things coming round! Not in their being beaten round, or worked round, but in their "coming" round! As though a lunatic should trust in the world's "coming" triangular!

It is so true! So many people, myself included, just sit "content" in their lives and wait for things to get better. (But then complain when nothing improves and complain when things go better for others) How many of us, if we're really honest, really work at making things better? I know I usually don't. But those times that I did, things did improve. Or wonderful things happened. It is a lesson I need to continually remind myself of. Sometimes you need to take your life and beat it in to the shape you'd like instead of merely waiting for it to come round.