My two year old loves our new baby. He wants to hug her and squeeze her all the time. All the time. Which, of course, scares the heck out of me. He comes wheeling around the corner yelling “Hug baby Bridget! Hug!” going about 43 miles per hour.
This is my wife’s fault (as are many things I silently hold grudges about.) When we brought the baby home she oohed and ahhed as Connor hugged the baby. I know what he’s thinking. This is the first positive reinforcement he’s had since…he cleaned up the kitchen floor by eating old CocoPuffs from under his seat. What?! Don’t you dare judge me. They were hard for me to reach.
When the baby was in the bassinette in the television room yesterday I heard Connor announce “Baby Bridget need a pillow!” I, of course, came bolting in. Now, Connor is typically smart enough to know that when adults come running in the room he’s usually in trouble but he had no idea this time. He looked around for his sisters to see what “no good” they’d gotten into. He genuinely seemed confused as to what I was saying. I know the look. It’s the same look that I get when my children ask for something other than waffles for breakfast.
I guess I have to thank God he’s so verbal in his conspiracies. If only we could get real criminals to do so I think our police would have a lot easier time of things.
So for now baby Bridget is stuck on top of the dining room table out of reach of my other children. She’ll stay up there until she can fend for herself. I dusted her yesterday. I didn’t lift her up and dust under her. I just dusted around her. My wife hates when I do that.
Bridget, of course, doesn’t appreciate this and avenges herself by staying up later than Lindsey Lohan.
My slightly older children have a different favorite game. They enjoy squealing higher than Mariah Carey and sticking their face as close to the baby’s as possible. No wonder the baby cries. She thinks her sister’s heads are the size of beach balls.
But maybe after two days of treating the baby like a knick knack the other children will have forgotten about her altogether. That’s the goal. I have to go. Connor just said, “Baby Bridget Play Soccer.”
July 26, 2007 at 2:32 pm
Oh dear… we’re having a baby in October — I hadn’t even considered this scenerio… (I have an almost 4 year old and a two year old…)
Of course, my 4 year old informed me that since she’s a big girl now, she’s going to change ALL the baby’s poopy diapers. (We’re encouraging this….)
I’m a big fan of “Babywearing” to head off the “too much sibling love” phenomenom…….
If the kid’s strapped to you, they can’t reach her! =)
July 26, 2007 at 3:58 pm
My seven year old promised she was going to take care of stinky diapers. No luck yet.
It’s the same with getting a dog. They promise and promise to take care of the dog. After the third day. That dog is yours and you end up walking with it in the rain and at midnight.
July 26, 2007 at 5:09 pm
This was hysterical! I’m sending your post to my 7 older siblings, who I’m sure will be more than appreciative of your predicament.
July 27, 2007 at 1:39 pm
Hilarious! At least I have succeeded in training my older daughter to dispose of the younger daughter’s diapers in the proper receptacle.
July 27, 2007 at 4:20 pm
I have a friend who was a “cardboard box” baby…
Not because of poverty—her parents had a perfectly good cradle…
but the 18 month old wanted to carry her up and down the stairs….
and everyone KNOWS you don’t keep babies in a box!
So if they put her in a box he assumed she was junk mail or something….
but if they put her in a cradle, she was HIS baby and NEEDED to be carried up 3 flights of stairs……
July 27, 2007 at 6:01 pm
that’s easily the craziest story I’ve heard in a while.