Babies and Strangers

Ever since I have become pregnant and have had two children I have noticed a very peculiar trend... You could be in the store, you could be working, you could be walking down the street, you could be in a public restroom, you could be attending a conference at your child's school, really no matter where you go, strangers are drawn to you and your pregnant belly or your child like a moth to a lamp. It's the oddest thing. It's like once you become pregnant or once you become a parent, there is no social etiquette for strangers and how they look or what they say to you and your child...

Now, I'm not talking about the random people who come up to you and say, "Aww. How sweet. A newborn. How old are they?". Or those people who tell you, "Wow. Your daughter has such beautiful hair!". Those are welcome comments. It's endearing. I often do it myself. Babies, kids, even preteens sometimes, are just so darn cute that you have to say something. I get that. It's sort of normal.

What I am talking about, and what perpetuated this blog/rant, is this type of stranger...

Last week I was grocery shopping with my husband, my daughter, and my son. My son, who is going to be seven months, had a wet diaper and didn't particularly like it. So I grabbed my diaper bag and headed off to the Stop and Shop bathroom. Luckily it had a changing station (don't even get me started on how many family restaurants and places don't have them at all). I whipped out my changing pad, diaper, and wipes, and got to business. When I change John, or even when I help Amelia get dressed, I talk to them. It's natural and keeps them occupied during an otherwise boring, mundane task. So, there I am, taking off John's diaper, and babbling on when an old woman (who just finished her own business) waltzes over and starts talking to me and my baby. She's asking how old he is, saying how cute he is, telling me about her great grand kid who's the same age. She's going on and on.

I know that she's someone's mom and grandma, and she's probably very nice. But, my son is naked on a changing table. Plus, I'm trying to chat with him and keep him from wanting to roll right off the table. And this lady is talking to me like she is my best friend and like it's completely normal for her to be doing so while I'm wiping my baby's butt. Well, it's NOT normal...

I respect the fact that she thinks my kid is cute and all and that he reminds her of her grandchild, but it's weird for you to be talking to me and my baby while I'm changing him. His privates are out for the whole world to see. I have my hands preoccupied. It's not natural to be talking to a complete stranger during this whole process. It's like strangers think that because it's a baby anything goes... 

Well, let me ask you this? Does my baby barge in on your closed stall door while you're sitting on the toilet doing your thing? Does my baby have full conversations with you in the bathroom? Are you sitting there exposed for the whole world? I'm pretty sure we can all agree that the answer is NO! Thanks for the sweet compliments, but please let my baby get changed without having to worry about complete strangers staring at his naked body. I have never done this to another parent. No matter how cute their child is or what they are doing. Even before I was a parent I didn't do this. It's just not normal. It's not a proper social custom. Just because they are tiny, cute, and innocent, doesn't mean that we get to treat them differently.

But, people talking to me while I'm changing my baby is nothing. With Amelia I have heard so much more. Things that you just don't ask strangers. Things that are rude. Or hurtful. And just plain crazy.

A good example is a few months after Amelia was born. For those of you who didn't see Amelia as a baby, or those who don't remember, she was born with a fairly large, very red, strawberry birthmark on her head. It was pretty noticeable since it was just above her forehead and was one of the first things you saw when you looked at her. It didn't bother me, or her for that matter. It was normal. In fact, I forgot it was even there after the first few months. But complete strangers noticed...

We were walking in the mall with Amelia when she was just a few months old. We were just getting onto the elevator and a middle-aged man stepped in right after us. He was looking around the elevator and saw Amelia. He said, "Oh. She's cute." We said the customary "thank-you" thinking that was the end of the conversation. We were wrong... The stranger them looked a little closer at her forehead and asked, "What's that red thing on her head? Did you guys hit her?"

I FREAKING KID YOU NOT! SERIOUSLY?! I honestly don't think I will ever forget this particular incident. SERIOUSLY! This dude, a complete and total stranger, just asked me if I beat my child. Not my child, my INFANT! There are so many wrong things with this situation that I don't know where to start. First off, it's rude of you to even mention the mark on my daughter's forehead. You don't know where it came from, you don't know my family, and you're a stranger. It's none of your damn business. Second, you just accused me of beating my child. I'm gonna leave that one alone because it's both ridiculous and infuriating. Third, even if I did beat my child, would I tell a random person?! Ummm... probably not. And just for the record, I did NOT beat my child. Nor have I ever. Once again, this is a case of social "rules" gone wrong. Just because she is a baby, doesn't mean that you can ask anything thing you want. It's rude. So, just shut up.

And speaking of Amelia, I still get this one to this day! And it's soooo annoying and tiring to answer over and over again...

My husband and I both have dark hair and relatively dark eyes (mine are brown and his are hazel). So naturally, when I was pregnant I always imagined having a dark-haired, dark-eyed baby girl. But, when she popped out, she was blonde as could be with the bluest eyes. I was pretty shocked. But, she was (and still is) beautiful, and I shouldn't have been that shocked. My mom's hair was so blonde when she was little that it was almost white, my sister is a natural dirty blonde, and all my cousins have blonde hair. It's genetics. 

But ever since she was a baby, and to this day, everywhere we go we get asked the same question, "Where does her blonde hair come from?". Really?! I get the compulsion to ask. We all have dark hair and she doesn't. It's different. But one, it's not unheard of. And two, you honestly don't know why she has blonde hair and your question could just as easily offend me and my husband. What if she was adopted? Wouldn't you feel terrible asking us that? What if someone I know passed away and their daughter was left to me and my husband to raise? Wouldn't that bring back bad memories for us? What does it matter if you know where her blonde hair came from? 

It's pretty rude to ask this question. You don't know the reason why and it shouldn't matter to you anyway. Just say my daughter has pretty hair and move on. This question has tired me out so much that I have begun to be creative about my answer to it. "Where does your daughter's blonde hair come from?" "Oh, my husband and I are swingers and had an accident." "Why does your daughter have such blonde hair?" "She really belongs to the Edible Arrangement's guy." These are just a few of my creative answers... I have said all these and more. Because if you think you can come up to me and ask a random, crazy question, then I can tell you some random, crazy answer. Plain and simple.

Even going back to before Amelia was born and when I was pregnant, strangers have NO boundaries. If you have ever been pregnant, and that belly starts to show, you know what I am feeling. You are standing in line at the grocery store, waiting to check out, your feet are swollen, the store is overcrowded, and you just want to get home and eat that pint of Ben&Jerry's with your feet propped on the couch, and suddenly you hear it. The lady behind you says, "Oh, you're pregnant. When are you due?" You rattle off an answer and then there it is. Slowly the lady is reaching out to you with her grubby paws trying to feel your belly. Ahh! No thank-you!

Just because I have a tiny human growing inside my belly and it's visibly obvious, doesn't mean you get to touch it. It's my belly. It's my baby. And once again, I DON'T KNOW YOU! Just because I am pregnant doesn't mean that you get to throw all social boundaries out the window and touch my belly. I don't touch yours, please don't touch mine. Unless I know you, and even then, only if I invite you to. It's just weird.

Ok, I think that pretty much sums it up. I know this is kind of lengthy and a little whiny, but it's so true. If you have ever been pregnant, if you are a parent, or if you are going to be, you know that you have had all these thoughts and encounters and more. It's the truth. So if you are a stranger, just back off. And think before you open your mouth. That's all. Babies and pregnant bellies are adorable. But that doesn't mean that they don't get the same respect as you or I. 

End of story.

Passage

One concept that has always fascinated and scared me is the passage of time. Some days seem to stretch for an eternity, while others are gone before you know it. When we are children, it feels like we have all the time in the world, while as adults, the days aren't long enough. There is never enough time to accomplish what we want. There is never enough time to see all your family and friends. Years go by and you simply cannot believe it. Wasn't it just yesterday that mom and dad were driving us around to school and play dates? Doesn't it seem like last year you were having your first kiss? Or is your high school reunion really coming up already? And you were just holding your newborn, so they can't already be one, right? Where does the time go? And what can we do to slow it down? Or freeze a few moments so they can last just a bit longer...

I know what time is... How many seconds are in a minute, how many minutes are in an hour, how many hours are in a day, how many days are in a week, how many weeks there are in a year. I know how old I am. I remember most of the years that got me to this point in my life. I know how time works. I get it; I really do. It just feels like everything melts together... Time literally flies... It escapes me before I know what is happening...

But to me, nothing signifies the passing of time like watching your children grow up...

Last night I was looking through "old" photo albums and pictures on facebook and I stumbled upon pictures of my little girl when she was just turning one, and then ones of her still sucking her pacifier at two, and then came the big smiles and the curls in her hair. It honestly made me sad; happy, but sad. How did time get away from me that fast? When did my little baby girl become 5?

I remember the day Amelia was born. I was anxious. I was hoping that she would wait until her due date because  08.08.08 would be the coolest, and easiest, birthday ever. I thought I was ready, but truth was I didn't know what to expect. Her birth was surprisingly easy; don't get me wrong, the contractions hurt like hell. But, I sat in the shower, most of my pain went away, I pushed for an hour and there she was. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Definitely not what I expected, but so beautiful and perfect. Chris and I created the most amazing human being and she was all mine; my daughter.

Those first few months were HELL... I got the baby blues so bad. I cried... a lot. I was scared to be left alone with a baby by myself. I didn't sleep enough. I was worried I was doing everything wrong. I was overwhelmed. But seeing her face, and her finally sleeping through the night and getting on the right formula, made it all worth it.

Before I knew it, she was smiling and getting teeth. She was laughing and exploring the world around her. She was commando crawling like a champ. She turned one and shortly after started walking. It was the most amazing, crazy, unexpected year of my life, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Two flew by with more milestones passed. Three came out of nowhere. Four was fun because we got to go to Disney and I was pregnant with my second child. And now, here we are at five... FIVE!

Gone are the chubby cheeks and arms with rolls. Gone are the precious, laughable first word mistakes, like "skissors" for scissors. Gone are the toothless smiles. Gone are the baby giggles. Gone are so many first milestones... I can never get those first five years back. All I have to preserve them are photos, memories, and a few precious videos.  

Now my daughter is almost done being a kindergartner! She has survived her first bus ride. She accomplished her first homework assignment. She had a blast at her first school birthday party. She tackled her first trip through the hot lunch line. She trooped it out with her class on her first field trip. She learned to love her first elementary school teacher. She did it. And again all I have are memories and photos... Time has passed by too fast again.

And with this amazing past year, I gained something just as prized as my baby girl; I have a handsome, happy baby boy...

This time last year, I was just about ready to have an ultrasound telling me if I was going to have a boy or a girl. Well, my little guy wanted the world to know he was all boy because that ultrasound was very telling... I could prepare for my baby shower. I could look at the boy's section of the store and gush over the fact that I didn't have to buy all pink anymore (THANK GOODNESS!). I was going to have a little boy and I was over the moon.

I remember the day of John's birth too... Which is good, because it was just over six months ago... My water broke at about 9:30 at night and John was born at 11:40 on the dot.... I was now a proud parent of a boy and a girl; an official mom of two! But with John's birth came the realization that time would pass by even more...

It feels like just yesterday I was holding this tiny, sweet smelling newborn, so he can't already be almost seven months, can he? But, the smiling, the laughing, the babbling, the first foods, a first (and second growing in) tooth, and scooting on the floor are all indications that once again, six precious months are gone. I have just a few videos, so many pictures, and amazing memories to capture the time that has flown by too fast.

I don't feel old enough to have been married for seven years and to have two healthy, beautiful children. But I am. I'm 27. My 10 year high school reunion is coming up next year. Amelia is about to complete kindergarten. John is going to be crawling before I know it. So much to look forward to, but so much to be missed...

Time passing is such a crazy concept... We watch the days crawl by and see the years flash before our eyes. We are a year older. Our children are a year older. We learn lessons that we won't repeat in the future. We reminisce about decades past. We anticipate future moments, whether they are weddings, upcoming births, or just a good time out. We wish we could go back in time to have one more second with a loved one. We wish we could look into the future and see if we are headed on the right "path". Time either goes by too fast or too slow.

But what I have learned from watching my children grow up (and I sound like my kids are turning 30 and having their own babies...), is that time goes by way too fast. What is five years seems like five seconds. You can't ever get back that loved one. You can't ever experience that first smile or first step again. And the future is always uncertain. So time should be spent living in the moment. Always say, "I love you", one more time. Always give that one quick kiss, even if it means making you a little late. Always stand at the door and wave good-bye to your children on the bus, even if it embarrasses the heck out of them. Always take the time. Because you never know when you won't have the time anymore.