I love my nephew
So y'all know how I feel about kids, right? Besides how well they go with butter and garlic.
Well, Saturday night Will and I got a trial run babysitting Nathan while his parents went out to dinner. We were briefed extensively in all aspects of Nathanity -- diaper changing, bottle feeding, his favorite distractions, even a seven-point scale of how to translate his crying -- and then left to our own devices for an hour. It wasn't too eventful an hour, as Nathan was on his best behavior. I got to feed him a bottle while watching Spongebob (it was, oddly enough, the episode in which Spongebob and Patrick have to take care of a baby scallop). Nathan kinda attack-eats, so occasionally I took the bottle away to give him some time to actually, y'know, breathe, during which he attempted to eat my arm. Then he got distracted by Spongebob (bright! shiny! moving!) until he loudly and epically pooped himself, which would normally have been the point at which I threw up my hands and screamed like a little girl for someone else to deal with it.
But... I didn't. I sort of knew exactly what to do, and didn't care about wiping a little baby butt, and damned if Nathan isn't the cutest thing on the changing table. He looks up at us and gives us this big retarded grin, and he makes little noises, and Will plays with his feet, and he just looks so gosh-darned happy to be there that I could just melt. Even when he cries he's not so bad; I pick him up and snuggle him and hum and he calms down. Apparently I impressed Will's sister (which is very, very hard to do), as she told Will with some surprise that I was really good with him. She asked me if I'd ever babysat before. I honestly haven't.
I still hate kids, and the jury is out on one of my own, but... god, the little guy's grown on me. That baby smile is infectious. I'm going to spoil him rotten and be the best aunt to him I can possibly be.
Well, Saturday night Will and I got a trial run babysitting Nathan while his parents went out to dinner. We were briefed extensively in all aspects of Nathanity -- diaper changing, bottle feeding, his favorite distractions, even a seven-point scale of how to translate his crying -- and then left to our own devices for an hour. It wasn't too eventful an hour, as Nathan was on his best behavior. I got to feed him a bottle while watching Spongebob (it was, oddly enough, the episode in which Spongebob and Patrick have to take care of a baby scallop). Nathan kinda attack-eats, so occasionally I took the bottle away to give him some time to actually, y'know, breathe, during which he attempted to eat my arm. Then he got distracted by Spongebob (bright! shiny! moving!) until he loudly and epically pooped himself, which would normally have been the point at which I threw up my hands and screamed like a little girl for someone else to deal with it.
But... I didn't. I sort of knew exactly what to do, and didn't care about wiping a little baby butt, and damned if Nathan isn't the cutest thing on the changing table. He looks up at us and gives us this big retarded grin, and he makes little noises, and Will plays with his feet, and he just looks so gosh-darned happy to be there that I could just melt. Even when he cries he's not so bad; I pick him up and snuggle him and hum and he calms down. Apparently I impressed Will's sister (which is very, very hard to do), as she told Will with some surprise that I was really good with him. She asked me if I'd ever babysat before. I honestly haven't.
I still hate kids, and the jury is out on one of my own, but... god, the little guy's grown on me. That baby smile is infectious. I'm going to spoil him rotten and be the best aunt to him I can possibly be.