Infant Envy

Infant Envy

Do you find yourself envying your infant?  Do you sigh pathetically and wish someone would lay out fresh jammies for you?  Do you long for someone to mash and spoon feed you organic veggies, wipe your ass, and draw you a warm bath?

Well, get over yourself.  It’s not going to happen.

Unless…

Unless…

Unless you’re me.  That’s right, folks.  I got to live the infant lifestyle for one glorious day.

I’ve been sick for a few days, so yesterday, Husband took a Family Day and stayed home from work.  By 7:30 am he had The Beast up, fed, and playing happily.  Husband was making chicken noodle soup from scratch and working on his third load of laundry.  His efficient homemakery put me to shame.  I decided it was worth it though, because all day long I got to play ‘helpless infant’ and he was my own personal mommy…weird…let’s move on.  I had a strictly enforced nap schedule and snuggles on demand.  Warm drinks were served with fresh jammies and books.  I had pre-planned, well balanced meals and snacks served at regular intervals so my blood sugar never dipped.  The day ended with a warm bath before I was tucked in.  If I could elect my own personal Groundhog Day, it would be yesterday.

But alas…I had to wake up and today was today NOT yesterday again and it was business as usual.

I got to thinking though…why haven’t I had a bath in six months?  Why haven’t I exercised?  Why do I eat toast for almost every meal?  Why am I neglecting myself to the point of envying my helpless, adorable baby?!  It seems when you spend every second caring for someone else, you sort of ignore your own basic needs and wants.  And that can make a person grouchy.  So it’s time to get on the infant lifestyle plan.

Every night I spend a great deal of time picking out the right jammies for The Beast.  They have to be warm, but not too warm.  Snug but not tight.  Cute but not lame.  And it doesn’t hurt if the jammie, bib, sleep sack combo match.  I, on the other hand, wear horrifying stuff to bed.  And if I’m being completely honest, it’s probably something I wore all day and decided to just keep wearing.  Parents, if this sounds at all familiar, it’s time to get your shit together.  Go buy yourself some new goddamn jammies and throw those old, holey yoga pants out.  You know the ones I mean. They are unfit.  And if I see a maternity tag on those pants, you’re dead meat.  Now change the frigging sheets on your bed and treat yourself right.  And don’t even think about wearing those new, goddamn jammies all day tomorrow.  Great, so I’ll see you all at The Store tonight in the jammie section.  It’ll be a party.

Now let’s talk food.  The second our beasts are born we begin obsessing about their nutrition.  Are they getting enough?  Are they getting too much?  We express, pump, nurse, measure, sterilize, puree, mash, measure, and balance the shit out of everything.  The other day I found myself salivating at The Beast’s brightly coloured meal of peas, sweat potatoes, and chicken.  When I came to, I thought, ‘Holy frig, when was the last time I ate a vegetable?’  So parents, if you find yourself drooling over your child’s baby food, or worse, eating his leftovers, get your arse to the freezer and take out those frigging blueberries and make yourself a goddamn smoothie.  Do it.  You deserve it.  And if your beast cries because you set him down for a sec, or he doesn’t like the sound of the blender, or his paper bag fell on the floor again, then too bad!  Because mommy needs her vitamin C or whatever letter is in there.

Exercise…I bet your beast gets tummy time.  I bet you deliberately build it into his day, don’t you?  Mmm hmm…you’re one of those.  And then there’s the jolly jumper.  And don’t forget the neglecter-saucer.  Your baby is getting fit before your very eyes, and you are his lumpy, breathless trainer.  The bottom line is, we need to move.  It’ll make us feel better no matter how good we already feel.  And taking your beast for a stroll doesn’t count. Give your beast away.  Find a relative, a friend, the other parent, or for frig sake hire someone.  And build in time for a shower afterwards because, God knows, you need one of those too.

It’s time to live the infant lifestyle!  It’s time to be selfish again!  We need to read books, drink wine, talk about meaningless things, talk about meaningful things, go to community school, shop, dig out an old recipe, find a new recipe, take a bath, find our friends, see a play, knit, EAT, bake, bike, do karate, watch TV, take a nap or whatever it is we used to do.  And the beasts will cry.  Poor, neglected beasts.  And then they’ll forget why they’re crying when Nanny plays peek-a-boo for the 11 millionth time and everyone will be better off.

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6 thoughts on “Infant Envy

  1. I had an evil, perky (and very fit mother of 4) trainor who told me to do my tummy time (planks and crunches) every time baby did tummy time. Probably good advice. As is: bring back wine and do whatever it is you used to do!

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