Beau has not been napping well at all lately. My solution is to put him in the car and go to the park/library/home improvement stores/garden center. Being in his stroller or being pushed in a cart puts him to sleep like a charm. Being the handsome little boy that he is, he garners attention from almost everyone we encounter. And everyone has advice about parenting. Some is helpful, some I ignore, some people are just plain rude about it.
The other day Beau and I were at Home Depot, I was pushing him around the store and stopped to look at paint colors for the new house. An older couple passed and the woman immediately paused to talk to Beau. Beau stared at her husband in awe, which I contribute to the fact that he was wearing a Red Sox hat. Good boy, Beau. Anyway, this couple was very nice, chatted for a moment and walked on. A few minutes later she reappeared next to me with a paper paint sample in hand. She gave it to Beau and he promptly stuck it in his mouth. I learned the hard way a few days before that when these paint things get wet they disintegrate and Beau ends up with ink all over his face. I looked at the woman, smiled and said, 'oh, uh, thanks, but no, he is just going to eat it.' At this point I was reaching to remove said paper from my child's mouth. the woman looked at me and said, "well, now he has another one, doesn't he?" Why do people think it's okay to do this stuff? I looked at her, said 'No. Thank you.' and put the chewed paper in the diaper bag. The look she gave me said "do you really think you know better than me?" To which, in my mind, I said yes. He is my child and whether you agree with my parenting or not I know what my baby needs.
Then there was the trip to Target. I made it through the store with probably a bit more than I needed, but who doesn't at Target? At the check out the cashier at the register next to us started to ogle Beau. Then she noticed that he wasn't wearing any shoes or socks. This was about a month ago, so he wasn't even crawling yet. Not to mention that it was roughly ninety-five degrees out with what seemed like 1000% humidity. 'Why don't you have any shoes little one?' the questioning began. I don't really ever put socks on Beau unless it's chilly out, and I refuse to buy him $30 shoes before he is old enough to walk. And so I told her. She glared at me like I was the most unfit mother she had ever encountered. 'Not even socks? His little feet must be cold.' and that same disapproving look. I just sighed and said "Nope". What I really wanted to say goes something like this: 'It is ninety five degrees outside, he is crammed into a car seat that does not breath at all. I am lucky I got clothes on him at all, have you ever tried to dress a six month old that despises wearing clothing? For that matter, I'm lucky I even got a diaper on him, considering he turns into a Flying Wallenda when it's time to change him. Any other questions Lady???' When I told Brian later that day about the encounter he shook his head and said "Why is it any business of hers?"
Being in public with a baby means lots of unsolicited advice. Everything from 'He's too cold/he's too hot to why are you feeding him formula? You're already giving him baby food? He's teething; he looks small/big for his age'...the list goes on. I have learned to deal with most of it, a simple acknowledgement and smile usually does the trick.
I can deal with the advice, what I can't deal with are people who think it's okay to touch him. Why are people so obsessed with baby toes? At least once a day a stranger will reach over and touch his feet before I can maneuver him away.
1. I do not know you, I do not know where your hands have been. Did you wash them after you used the bathroom? Did you just pick up a thing of yucky, dripping raw chicken in the meat section and then touch my baby's foot which he will promptly put in his mouth the second he has a chance???
2. What is it about pregnant women and babies that just screams "please touch me, because I have never met you and am therefore fine with you patting my belly/rubbing my toes/touching my head, etc.? I have never had the impulse to reach out and touch a stranger just for the heck of it. Someone please explain this to me.
3. While I'm at it, why do people stare at extremely pregnant women like they are aliens? I thought I was alone on this one until a friend of mine brought it up to me. We were due within a month of each other and frequently compared stories about this. In particular it seems to be elderly men and young women. Maybe one is thinking "If only you knew what you're in store for", and the other is thinking "Is that what I'M going to look like??!!"
4. Strangers who ask if they can hold my baby. Seriously. Refer to number one.
I have no problem with friends and family holding Beau, I know them, I trust them, I'm not worried that they have been making anthrax in their basement and just touched my kid (yes, it is irrational, that's what motherhood does to a person).
The lady who works at the local grocery store comments passive-aggressively every time we're in there that she wishes she could hold Beau. My thoughts on this: "Please, let me just get him out of the car seat it took me ten minutes to buckle him into, all while he is throwing a fit because he hates the stupid thing, then there is about an 80% chance he is going to take one look at you, realize that you're not me and throw another fit. Then you will promptly hand him back to me and I will have to begin the whole car seat thing AGAIN. Dare I even ask if you have washed your hands since you touched the money?"
On that note, I have a completely unrelated story to share. I took Beau to PetSmart yesterday to look at the animals. While we were walking around I started talking with a young woman who had a Pit Bull pup with her. We were talking, Beau was giggling at the puppy and suddenly the puppy began to poop right in the middle of the aisle. Beau thought it was the funniest thing he had ever seen and was laughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath. Oh, the joys of babies and puppies. The woman and I could not help but laugh at Beau, laughing at the pooping dog.
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