Officially speaking, I’m not a mother, but I have been known to play one during family affairs.
My sister in law (SIL) gave birth to the most precious little boy about a year and a half ago. I call him ‘Baby J’ and I love him to pieces. I also have a special bond with him because I was one of the first people to see him when he was born.
He arrived about five months too early; seeing that little miracle is one sight I will never forget. Baby J is growing, and despite his surprise entrance into this world, is doing really well. He is one active toddler and is in the phase where he wants to put everything in his mouth.
Needless to say, this past Mother’s Day was bustling, and someone had to keep an extra eye on the little guy. I wanted to give my SIL a break from being a mom for a few hours, so I tried my best to watch Baby J while she relaxed.
In between making sure the baby didn’t get too close to the grill and fryer, I made a salad and fixed a fruit pizza. This taste of motherhood was a mouthfull!
My in-laws live out in the country, so there is more than enough space for everyone to enjoy and relax. The baby loves to be outside – so that is where we spent most of our time.
Unfortunately, you have to watch out for things you wouldn’t in the city: snakes, large bugs, loose dogs, and dead carcasses. Since I appointed myself as the official baby caretaker, I had to observe all of the surroundings to ensure my nephew was kept safe and the opposite of snake bait. We had a lot of fun exploring the area and I enjoyed getting some sun.
The highlight of the day was when I backed into a birdbath, knocked it down and then fell into the water. I was soaked from the waist down and turned red from the neck up. Only one other person saw this smooth move and quickly came over to fix the bath. Thankfully, the 50-pound, solid rock basin fell in the opposite direction of where my nephew was standing. I laughed and the playing resumed once everyone made sure we were OK.
My nephew didn’t even know what happened because he was busy picking up pieces of wood to eat. I stood with my backside to the sun and said, “No, icky, yuck, yuck,” and tried to take the wood from his little fist. He put up quite a fight, but I eventually pried the soggy piece of nature from his little fingers. I threw it into the bushes and kept saying, “Yucky,” and “icky,” over and over.
A few seconds later he picked up a stick, turned it horizontal and licked it. How he didn’t learn and grasp my icky mantra is beyond me. I repeated the previous steps and heaved the stick into the air and picked him up. “Let’s go see what your momma is doing,” I said.
I found my SIL sitting in the shade looking so relaxed and peaceful. “Are you wearing Auntie Becky out?” she asked as she took the baby and handed him a bottle. I smiled and said, “Of course not, we are having a fun time.” And I meant every word, but at the same time, I was relieved I could go back to just being an aunt and drying my pants off.