I've Got a Fever

I've got a fever, and the prescription is NOT more cowbell.  I've got baby fever.  BIG TIME.  But there are a few problems.  See, I don't even have a date.  Let alone a significant other.  And apparently, these pesky kids need a father - who knew?!?  So, no children on the horizon at this time.

This doesn't mean that my eggs are not getting more brittle by the second.  This doesn't mean that I'm not sick of being single.  This doesn't mean that I don't want a family in a bad, bad way.  I have pondered this many times.  I have thought about being a single mother.  The problem is, how to go about it?

Kidnapping one of those Duggars.  Would they really miss one?  I mean, really?  But what if they grew up like Jim Boob?  I'm not sure my heart could take it.  Plus, if I try to kidnap someone I'm kind of a wuss and don't think I'd do well in jail.

Going to one of those anonymous donation places, if you get my drift.  This is quite a gamble.  How do you select a father for a child based on a form?  The choices, it's too much!  A tall child would be nice, they could clean the top of the fridge for me.  But an average sized child would be nice because they don't feel like they stand out.  A short child could be considered cute, and I would like a cute child.  And then, I'm very pale (read:  pigmentally challenged) so do I want to pick a donor that will give my child a chance at some skin pigmentation?  Do I look for a fellow half-albino so that my child looks like me?  And then there's the whole gross out issue of a donation from a stranger.  I don't want to put anyone else's snot anywhere near my body, so other bodily fluids...

Adoption.  Adoption is actually very near and dear to my heart.  I'd adopt a house full of children in a heart beat.  But is anyone going to want to send a child to a single mother with no money?  And, I'm a bit like that book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.  If you give me one kid, I'll end up with a house full and I'll end up having to have my mother as a permanent caretaker for my child zoo.  I'd also be a total hypocrite because I've been steaming mad about the Duggars going for a 20th kid.

Praying for a miracle.  It could be an interesting life having people arise up and calling me blessed.  But that's a whole lot of pressure, and I don't like to stand with my head cocked and my hands outspread.

So, I'm up a creek without a paddle.  In the meantime, I'm drooling other over people's children and wishing that someone in my family would have a baby that I could cuddle and spoil.  My nephew is getting too big to cuddle, and my cuddle bank is running low.

Seriously, I'm sick of being single.  Really.  Ideas?

I Will be 95 When My Kids Graduate

Apparently, there has been some sort of conspiracy against me.   Or else, it's "National Bug the You-Know-What Out of Non-Mommy" week/year/decade/whatever.

I'm not making this up.  I'm also not really that bothered by this, but it's been a little repetitive this week/year/decade/whatever.  See if you can find what might be bugging me.

Student's parent: So, you should really take your children to that museum.  How old are your children? What?  You don't have children?  I'm sorry, I just assumed that you did, Mrs. Non-Mommy.  (How the heck do I have their child for a year and they don't know that I'm childless/not married?!  And it's MS. NON-MOMMY, thank you very much!!)


My dad, talking to someone else:  Oh, being a grandparent is just the most wonderful thing ever.  I just love that boy so much.  And I had to wait so long, too. I was beginning to think it was never going to happen!  My oldest daughter still hasn't found anyone yet.  (THANKS, Dad. Sorry I let you down! Oh geez.)

Friend who called me in the middle of the night:  I'm tired of you never being able to go out on dates with us, or that our kids can't play together.  Maybe you should go to a sperm bank!  You only have a few good years left before your eggs get old.

Insurance rep at work to talk to us about cafeteria plans, disability, etc.:  Well, Non-Mommy, is there any chance that you'll be trying for a baby soon?  If so, you definitely should sign up for disability because blah blah blah.  (No, there is no chance.)  Oh really? Not even in the next three years?  (No.) You really don't see yourself having a child in the next three years?  If there is even a chance, you should really take out this policy.  (LOOK, BUDDY, NO. If you can predict the future, then go right ahead, but no, as of now, the child forecast calls for no new action in the next three years! But thanks for the painful reminder!)  Ok, well, Non-Mommy, I also see that you're entering a new age bracket.   Now, if you are interested in taking out this policy, you really need to take it out now, because as you get older, and move into the next age bracket, it gets significantly more expensive.  (AHHHHH!!!! You have got to be kidding me.  First, children, now, you're calling me old?!  Get me out of here!  Where is the nearest exit?  Thank you for really hitting me below the belt, you fat loser!  YES, yes, I admit it, I'm no longer the cute, young teacher.  WAHHHH!!!)

Twit at a child's birthday party, where I was the only non-mother: You're going to be a great mother.  I can't wait to see what your kids look like.  (Thanks.  I'm a little curious, myself.)  So do you want to start a family any time soon?  (No. I don't.  I have a black heart.  I never want to be with anyone, or have children.  I've decided to go through life, shunning the traditional family unit and instead go to events such as this, and stare at other people's children.  What does she expect me to say? I  mutter something like "Sure, when the time is right.")  Well, have you considered single parent adoption? (Um, I don't need your help planning out my life, thanks!  And I'd kinda like the kid to have a father!   Wait. Hunkle, my sister's hot brother in law is available.  Maybe I should go work on him!   We'd have gorgeous children!  Excuse me while I go seduce this man who is physically a million times out of my league.)


Student who is going to give me gray hair before my time, in the middle of a lesson about the branches of government:  How come you're not married?  And don't have kids?   I've never had a teacher who wasn't married before.  Have you tried internet dating?

My own mother!!! (Holding my nephew on her lap.) All I need now, Non-Mommy, is another baby on my other leg. (I already have children.  With Superman.  They are currently  on another planet, safe from Lex Luther.)  [Really, Mom, I'm not mad at all.  Don't take this personally.]

But hey, no pressure.

Excuse me while I go reserve a space at the nearest nursing home, and try to convince my eggs to stay young.  And bang my head against the wall.

Technology is awesome

Right now, one of my closest friends is in labor.  She's texting me a whole lot, which means that things aren't really rolling too much.  I wanted to take a nap, but I'm too excited!

You know, as the only single woman on the planet, with eggs that are rapidly approaching geriatric status, you'd think I'd be used to this.  All of my friends have babies.  All of them.  And yet, each time they go into labor I'm ridiculously excited and a nervous wreck.  I want to be there!  I worry about if they are in pain or not.  And yes, part of me just wants to get my hands on that kid.

As an aside, I'd just like to say that I want to see someone give birth.  I know it's gross, but I don't care.  I just want to see a live birth!  No one ever takes me up on it, not even my sister.  My cousin would probably let me, but she lives a million miles away and has no plans for a Non-Mommy, Jr. either.  I am screwed.

Anyway, soon I will get to snuggle with a new baby.  They don't do much, but there isn't much better than holding a warm bundle of new goodness.

(Please note the restraint I have shown in not complaining about it never being my turn!  Also, if you know any single men, please leave me their pertinent contact information.  

I Need a Walker

I take my nephew to the pool as much as I can.  We enjoy swimming.  This week, my brother in law has been in a very unpleasant medical situation requiring a great deal of pain.  My nephew has had a hard time adjusting to life without his dad and less time with his mom.  Today, he needed to go swimming to perk him up.  I had to take him to a different pool than I usually do because the heater was broken at our pool.

The new pool was cool, but the sidewalk was very scratchy and slippery.  I kept having to yell at my nephew to STOP RUNNING for pete's sake!  It's slippery! 

We were walking around, I was holding his hand, and then BAMMMM.  I fell like a rock and took my fragile little nephew down with me.  He didn't seem to be too bothered, but Non-Mommy? 

OUCH.

I fell hard.  So there I am, laying splayed about, when a lifeguard comes over.  Comes over to check on the old lady, yelling "Are you ok?  Are you ok?"  I was humiliated.  And, bleeding!  I'm completely bruised and cut up from the hip down.  I had to be bandaged up by the 18 year old lifeguard.  I'm all sore and tottery now.  But I definitely got back in that pool because the kid needed it. 

I'm not as young as I used to be.  And also?  Don't lecture people about running around the pool.  Even walking can take you down.

I Got French Kissed by a Two Year Old

 Now that I am on winter break, I have time to spend with my nephew, the Former Baby.  He and I love going to the pool, and we try to do it as much as possible.  Today I took him to the fancy indoor pool that he loves.  In fact, he calls it the "Special Kool." 

I took him this afternoon and he was a wild man.  He was splashing like crazy.  He was shouting Toby Mac lyrics at the top of his lungs.  He was having a great time.  We were taking a lap around the pool, he was hanging on around my neck and kicking his feet behind him, when suddenly, out of no where, he leaned in.  I thought he was going to give me a kiss, but I had no idea what was coming.  Before I knew it, he shoved his slimy, nasty tongue into my mouth!  I don't know what my sister and brother in law are teaching him, but the "Special Kool" is rated G!

I tried very hard to ignore the fact that he's been coughing like an 80 year old with emphysema, prayed with all of my might that the chlorine would kill germs, and took a Flintstone vitamin.

The things I put up with in the effort to be a good aunt.

Ew.

Urine a Lot of Trouble

Recently I was asked if I would be willing to acquire and deliver balloons for a friend's funeral. The family was hoping to do a balloon launch at the cemetery in honor of their departed loved one. I agreed to do it, and was a little stressed about the timing. It was near the Former Baby's naptime. I wasn't sure what time the funeral would end, and I sure as heck wasn't taking the cranky Former Baby to the funeral. Most importantly, could I get all those balloons in a car with a small child AND manage to get them there without them exploding in the hundred degree heat?

In the event of a balloon emergency, I ordered extra balloons. Getting the balloons was comical to say the least.



The child already was not feeling well, and he wasn't crazy about being surrounded by balloons.   In my mind, I went through a checklist:

66 helium filled balloons?  Check.
Bag with a banana, a Nutrigrain bar, fruit leather, crackers, and lots of water?  Check.
Bag filled with the Former Baby's favorite toys?  Check.
Dress on?  Check.
Former Baby WITH SNOT RUNNING OUT OF HIS NOSE?  Check.
Current temp:  97.6 degrees
Current heat index:  102 degrees

So, after shoving my beloved nephew into a vehicle filled to the brim with helium and latex, we made it home.  The poor sick guy fell asleep in the car (which he never does) amongst a cloud of pearlized white balloons and he looked like a little angel.  The Former Baby was put to bed and then I went to work developing a plan that would allow 66 balloons to fit in the car and still allow my poor nephew a chance to breathe.

During his miracle nap, the child woke up pleasantly healthy and perky - which was good because he'd been obnoxious and we had a time sitting in the car with 66 balloons until the family was ready for them.  I got a text that it was go time, I shoved the kid in the car, I carefully placed 66 balloons tied to coffee mugs (it was ingenious, my stacking system!) and off we went to the cemetery - where at least 5 UPS pilots stole the balloons they were supposed to release!  Come on, idiots.  Have you ever been to a funeral where they give out balloons as a parting gift?  I don't think so.  The kids had their own color balloon, the wife had a red love balloon, and everyone else had white.  It was actually beautiful.

Overall, Operation Balloonation was a success.  And to reward my nephew who was tremendously good and patient today after such a weird day, I texted his mom and asked if she could pick him up late so I could take him to the big fancy indoor pool at my gym.  She said yes, I sped home, grabbed our things and left.  We went to the gym, he was SUUUUUPER excited, I changed him into his little swim diaper and trunks, we walked to the pool's edge and then...the doomed words came.

"SOMEONE HAS POOPED IN THE POOL.  IT WON'T BE OPEN FOR ANOTHER 45 MINUTES."

Now, we were a mere inches from entering the water.  My nephew was singing songs, he was so overjoyed to swim, and was ready to dive in when MEAN AUNT NON-MOMMY ripped him away from the pool.  He didn't understand.  He hesitantly walked out the door with me and then when he realized that we were actually leaving without so much as a toe in the water, he freaked.  We're talking glass shattering, explosive, "I'm at the end of my rope!" kind of losing it.  I picked him up off the floor, put him on my hip promising that we could go to the pool in my neighborhood, when suddenly, I felt water running down my leg.  We hadn't been in the pool.  I wasn't peeing, or going into labor or anything.

I had my nephew's urine streaming down me.

Seems the swim diaper didn't work.  This is the second time this has happened.  I made sure his little peener was pointing in the right direction.  He hadn't had it on 3 minutes, so it couldn't have been overfull.  I don't know if the force of his screaming made the urine shoot out even more or what.  So now I have a screaming, crying, urine covered child to take to the car.  He was NOT happy.

It was 4:35.  The neighborhood pool closes at 5:00.  I sped to the pool.

4:40 and we're at the neighborhood pool.  I didn't even have sunblock for the kid, but he was getting in that water, darn it!!  We got in and he was ecstatic.  20 short minutes later and we are out.  He's not very happy, but happier than he was!  Then he was running along the sidewalk and he did a total face plant on the concrete that was 4000 degrees.

This non-motherhood gig is for the birds.

A real mom wouldn't have done this!

I've been taking care of my nephew, the Former Baby, quite a bit this summer.  He's a lot of fun!  I have especially enjoyed introducing him to the swimming pool and the wonderful world of swimming!  Swimming is so fun, and the Former Baby loves to go.  He's made a lot of great progress!  Today after he woke from his nap, we began to prepare for our daily trip to the pool.

So, being the stellar aunt that I am, I was totally oblivious to the weather.  I got Former Baby all ready for the pool.  We went in the garage, I sprayed that horrible, gross feeling sunblock all over him, and then...I hear it.  Thunder.  I go outside and look and sure enough, there's a storm.  It's not here yet, but it's coming.  I stand there and debate with myself.  Do I walk to the pool only to discover that it is closed and piss off the Former Baby by showing him the pool but not letting him in the water?  Do I take him to the pool, get in the water, and then deal with a screaming baby when we have to get back out of the water?  Or do we just not go to the pool?  Meanwhile, while I'm looking at the sky, the Former Baby has crawled into the stroller.  He's READY TO GO!!! 

Now, I have to go be the bad guy.  I try to explain the situation to him, but he's two.  He doesn't get it.  And he has giant, sad tears streaming down his face.  So...we improvised.  I filled the tub with cool water, he insisted on wearing his life jacket, and we're "swimming" until we have to get out of the tub because of the weather.

 Clearly I have a lot to learn!  A non-mommy at her finest.

A serious perk to non-mommyhood

Allow me to take a moment from my usual comedic genius to talk about something more serious.  I want children.  I want children terribly.  I never in a million years dreamed that I'd be at this point in my life, still unattached and with no family.  It's been very difficult for me to accept.  There are, however, perks to singlehood.  The obvious ones are things like sleeping in, ease around the house, etc.  What I want to take a moment to talk about, though, is how my singleness affects my relationships with others.

As a single woman, I have more time to spend with others.  This can be a positive and a negative.  It can be frustrating for me that I have time and inclination to do activities, but all of my friends are unable to do things because they have families to tend to.  I've been so fortunate to have open time to spend with my sister and my parents.  This has been such a wonderful perk about being single.  I'm able to spend quality time with my parents.  Recently, my father passed away.  I treasure every moment I've had with them both, and am so grateful I had fewer obligations to take me away from time with them.  Since becoming an adult, my sister and I have become more than sisters - we're truly friends.  Her schedule may be limited since becoming a mother, but mine is not.  This means that I have time to play and relax in her home and be a bigger part of her daily life than I would be if I had a family.  These relationships are so very important to me.

In honor of where I am at this moment, I'd like to talk about one person I am very thankful for, and thankful that I have the time to spend with her.

Six years ago, my younger sister was getting married.  I had a very hard time with this.  It was hard for me to watch my younger sister doing something that I so desperately wanted, and the irrational side of me felt like a loser because I should have been the first to get married.  As the wedding approached, relatives came from near and far to visit.  My aunt and her stepdaughter decided to come to the wedding.  I knew her stepdaughter.  We'd been together on several occasions, and always got along well.  I hadn't spent a tremendous amount of time with her, but I knew I enjoyed her company.  Suddenly, at a wedding I was feeling slightly blue about, my cousin swooped in and saved the day!  She was hilarious and funny!  She kept things perky.  We slept in a teeny, tiny bedroom (she in a twin bed, I on an air mattress) and we stayed up a long time, laughing and talking.

After that, a new relationship was born.  She was no longer my aunt's stepdaughter, but it was clear that she was her daughter in every sense.  She was no longer "just" my cousin, she was my good friend.  We continued to talk and spend time together.  Because I have no familial obligations, I was able to travel to see her and my family members each summer.  This time has meant SO much to me over the years!  She married an incredible man who I adore, and then had two children who I fell head over heels in love with.  I count down the months and days until I can be together with my cousin and her family.  Although they live far away, they mean the world to me.

I trust my cousin as much as I trust my sister.  She is one of the strongest, most generous people I know.  I can always count on her to have a listening ear and wise words.  She truly makes me work harder to be a better person, and I can't imagine my life without her.

My father recently passed away and I was devastated.  I remember calling my cousin to tell her, and she was crying on the phone.  She wasn't crying because she liked my dad (which she did), she was crying because she didn't want me to hurt and she loved me.  At a time where everyone was trying to be strong for me, or felt uncomfortable and unsure what to say, she cried with me.  She told me she'd be there soon.  When she came, I couldn't think clearly.  She took me to a store, picked out clothes for me to wear at one of the worst moments of my life, and she took care of me.  Once, when the house was overflowing with people and I was feeling overwhelmed, I went to lay down on the bed to get away from everyone.  My cousin came back and found me.  She laid on the bed with me and we ate chocolate covered edamame and just visited.  It felt so warm, peaceful and comforting at a time where everything was swirling around me.  I will always treasure that time with her.

These are moments that people who have children can have, but it is harder and more complicated with them.  I'm so very grateful that for the past 12+ years I have been able to go to my cousin's house for an extended amount of time and just spend time with her and her children.  That can, and will, still happen when I have a family, but I know it will be different.  My lack of attachment has helped me form some deep, deep bonds with those most important to me and I will forever be grateful for that.

As I type this, I lay on her daughter's bed, sad that soon I will have to leave.  I feel so comfortable in her home.  I love that when I'm at her house, two snuggly kids will crawl in my lap, or that I can just go in her kitchen and get a snack.  It's been a rough year and I haven't been my normal self, but she hasn't given up on me.  I love that I have the time to spend with my cousin and her incredible family.  I can never repay her for all she has done for me.

M, thanks for being there for me when I needed it the most.

(OK, that last picture is a joke.  I can't stand Doperah or Gail.  But SOME people like her!)

You...knotheads!

When I was a kid, my sister and I did something to make my dad really angry.  I don't recall what we said or did, but I remember vividly his reaction.  He stood there, face getting red, struggling to come up with the correct words, and exploded with "You...knotheads!"  After the moment passed, we all found his reaction hilarious and have joked about it ever since.

Today, I had my own knothead moment.

Before I explain about the day, I want you to know the honest truth.  I want to be married and I want to be a mother.  Badly.  I really do.  It hasn't worked out for me yet, and accepting that it may never happen hasn't been easy, but I absolutely love being with children and look forward to having a family of my own someday.  I also have a completely wonderful nephew.  He's incredible.  He's funny, he's sweet, he's well behaved, and I adore every moment I spend with him.  The former baby has been such a great blessing to my life and has helped my family get through some really tough times this year.

But, he's also two.  And I'm also human and impatient.  Plus, we didn't get to go to the pool today, so that makes me extra cranky!

The day started off normally.  The formal baby was a little bit emotional today and clingy.  We cuddled a lot today.  He ate an early lunch, I put him down for a nap and he only laid in his bed for 15 minutes, singing his three favorite songs ("Twinkle, Twinkle," "Ba Ba Black Sheep" and the alphabet song) Broadway style (I'm so proud!  I taught him that!).  When he woke up we went for a long walk and he stopped at every car and yelled hello.

We came back to the house and I had to scan a bunch of pictures for a project I am working on.  I had to install the printer, and it took a long time, and kind of irritated me.  The scanner is a tad on the slow side.  I could, for example, take the dog hair out of the Dyson and weave the fur into a fabric and make a sweater in the time that it takes to scan one picture.  If you scan them all at once and then transfer them to the computer it is much faster than doing it one picture at a time.  So I scanned, and scanned, and scanned.  I scanned a whole, WHOLE lot of pictures.

In the process, my mother's farty anxious dog came to see me.  You see, my father passed away recently and now that my mother is gone on a trip, the dog is beside herself.  She thinks my mom is not coming back, I believe.  She constantly follows me around panting.  So, here comes the smelly, farty dog and she trips over the cord to the scanner and unplugs the thing.  I lost all the work I had done.  All of it.

I started to lose control.  I started to yell at the dog, who doesn't understand what she did, and I started to use words that rhyme with "buck" and "hit."  I recalled, however, that the former baby is like a myna bird right now, repeating everything.  So, I took a deep breath and kicked that smelly dog outside.  Fart on your own space, smelly dog, and stay away from my scanner!!

I resumed scanning, pulling out the pictures I had already done, and the former baby heard the scanner make a noise.  The former baby is drawn to anything electronic like a moth to a flame.  He came sprinting over as fast as his little chubby legs would take him, and turned off the freaking scanner!!  I lost my work, AGAIN.

I tried to use his swear words.  I yelled "WAFFLE!  VACUUM!"  But it didn't help me feel better.

I aborted the scanning mission and decided that I needed to find something else to do.  Meanwhile, the former baby, who lives, eats and breathes all things "vacuum" managed to get out the vacuum.  I look over and he is plugging the vacuum into the wall socket.  Not only is he NOT allowed to do this, I recalled a conversation I once had with my sister.  I asked her if I could drive the former baby to a party store to pick up supplies for my mother's birthday.  Her response to me was:

Well, I guess you could.  But I want you to understand that the baby is the most important thing in my life.  If something ever happened to him, I would forgive you, but it would forever be a stumbling block in our relationship.

Well, crap.  If she doesn't want me to drive around with him, she most definitely doesn't want me to let him electrocute himself.  So I swiftly corrected the situation.  This made the former baby very, very angry.  He knows he can't hit, so he turned around, found my digital camera, and threw it across the room.  I put him in the corner and listened to him wail as I put the vacuum away.  I was clearly ruining his entire life by putting it in the closet.  When he threw the camera, my memory card fell out and is still MIA.

Soon, my sister would be here to pick up the former baby.  I was rapidly losing patience with the little knothead.  So I took the former baby to a room where he played with a toy school bus.  He secretly put my camera batteries in the bus and was playing with them.  When I took the batteries away from him he was furious.  So then I put him at the piano and he played "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" about 45 times in a row.  I'm not even kidding.

I laid in the middle of the floor, trying to find my zen place, and made up my own words to the song.

Twinkle, twinkle little star

Where is your mother in her car?

You are cranky, and edgy

You're driving your aunt over the ledge-y

Twinkle, twinkle little star

Mommy I wonder where you are?

Thankfully, the child, who I truly do love, left soon after, but NOT before getting angry and head butting me like a goat.

All of this got me thinking.  Why am I happy to be a non-mommy?  What am I missing out on by not being a mother yet?  Here are some of my thoughts.

• When I am at the pool, the former baby has a certain panache for pulling my swimsuit top off.  He has exposed my white, white boob to the sun more times this summer than it has ever been exposed to in the past.  Perhaps this will help me find Mr. Right?  (Oh, wait.  I'm in a pool full of children, carrying a child that looks just like me, and I am so pigmentally challenged that I look like I'm half-albino.  There is no hope.)
• Tomorrow morning, I will get to sleep in.  All you mothers out there won't really be able to.  Non-mommyhood rocks!  Well, except for the fart machine dog that I'll have to get up and let out.
• I don't have to feel guilty if I want to go out for an evening, or have to find a sitter.  But to be honest, since I'm the only single woman left on the planet, I still have to deal with this issue because all of my friends have kids.  Boo.
• When I shop, I don't have to use the forty foot long carts that are made for children to sit in.  I'm a really bad driver when it comes to those carts!
• Yesterday I had to sit in a humid, dirty play area at Chick-Fil-A with my nephew.  I could feel the germs multiplying by the second.  Thankfully, I don't have to do this on a regular basis.
• I can eat cereal for every meal if I want to.  Who cares about nutrition once you hit the "Old Maid" mark?
• I do have to say, though, that the unconditional love and trust that I get from the former baby is pretty awesome, and it's sad that is not a part of my everyday life.

So, it wasn't a stellar day, but I wouldn't trade all the drama for anything.  The former baby is pretty darn awesome.  My sister asked me if, after a day like today, I had changed my mind about someday wanting to be a stay at home mom.

Nope!

However, next week I need to make sure that I have plenty of dark chocolate and a bottle of wine ready (for AFTER he leaves!) in case I have another crazy day!

CNMB Day 3

(Alternate title:  I Know I'm Not Part of the Club)

I am a swimmer.  There is nothing in this world that I love to do more than swim.  There are a few problems with this hobby, however.  First of all, I don't have access to a pool on a regular basis.  Sure, there are local pools.  But have you looked at a community pool?  I mean, really looked?   There are no adults in the pool.  It's full of children.  Children jumping, children fighting, children peeing...but no adults.  I don't want to look like the doof coming to the pool with no child, swimming along in the pool with every other child's urine.  The second problem is that, until recently, I haven't had a kid to drag to the pool.  I do now, but we'll talk more about that in minute.  The final problem is that I don't like being seen in my swimsuit.  At all.  I don't want to wear a mommy swimsuit, but I don't want to wear a bikini, either.  My strategy is that when I swim, I leap into the water as soon as possible, hiding my body from any onlookers.  This works well if you go to the pool with no child, but it does not work well if you are at the ocean.  No one wants to see me run down the beach and then when you finally hit the water, it's like 1 inch deep.

This year, I was so happy.  I finally had an excuse to go to the pool!  Who cares if the former baby likes the water as long as I get to swim??  My joy was short lived, however, upon arrival to the pool.  You see, in case you didn't know, I'm not a mommy.  So I hadn't thought about the logistics of taking a toddler to the pool.  We arrive at the pool and I notice that I am literally the only adult in the water.  All the other moms sit around the edge slathered in oil, reading books, drinking beer (no, really) and in general pay no attention to the kids in the water.  And then here I come, the whitest person in the world.  Usually, I can just leap into the water so that these women don't see me (aside:  when did moms get so hot?!).  However, with the former baby, I can't just jump in.  I have to walk, slowly, across the sidewalk and to the baby pool.

Even this pool has its problems.  You can't hide your body in a baby pool, because it's shallow!  Foiled again!  So not only am I mortified that people can see me in a swim suit, but now I'm blinding the world with my white, white skin.  Then, the former baby wants to go back and forth between the "little cool" and the "big cool," as he calls them.  This requires me to get out of the water.  In front of other people.  As we walk between the pools, I can just imagine what the real mothers are thinking.  In reality, they probably aren't thinking a thing, but I feel like bursting out in my loudest voice "Don't look at my jiggly thighs!  Why do I have a bigger baby gut than you do, when I'm not a mother?  Yes, I know, I look like I'm half albino, ok?  At least I use sunscreen liberally and won't wrinkle like an old suitcase!  When we're 85, I'll look like I'm 80 and you'll look like you're 90!"  Thankfully, I haven't created a scene - yet.

I also can't turn off "teacher mode" when I'm at the pool.  It drives me absolutely crazy how no adults watch their children.  The kids steal from one another constantly.  At this pool, every hour the lifeguards take a 10 minute break and all children have to get out of the pool.  Recently, a family that looked like the Clampetts showed up at the pool.  They came in, found a spot as far away from the pool as possible, opened their cooler of beer, and never looked at their kids.  All of their children jumped in the water with no lifeguard around.  These were little kids!  Were the Clampetts paying attention?  No.  I think maybe they were suffering from lack of oxygen from the tight tight tight swimsuits they were wearing (just because you can, doesn't mean you should).  Shouldn't they notice that no one else was in the water?  Shouldn't they watch their kids since there were no lifeguards?  Pretty soon other kids were slipping into the water and I thought my brain was going to explode.

Since taking over full babysitting duties with the worlds cutest two year old, I've been reminded, repeatedly, that I'm not "in the club."  You know what club I mean.  The "I've Had a Bun in the Oven" club.  I've been taking the former baby to Story Time at the library and to the local pool.  The moment I enter these places, I swear, these women can smell that I'm not a mother.  For real!   They all sit around talking about giving birth and give me weird looks.  I'm not kidding!  Today I heard all kinds of conversations about how dilated they were, how long they pushed, and all about breastfeeding.  I'm pretty sure these women all gave birth in a pool in their bedroom, kept the placenta, planted it under a tree, and they make a pie out of the fruit from that tree each year in honor of their baby.  Their kid is literally the apple of their eye.

Well, guess what? I have never lactated.  I'm closed tight in all the right places.  I can't even get a date at this point.

And, I don't like pie.

CNMB Day 2

Yesterday when we left our heroine, she was sleepy and dealing with a scared chocolate lab.  The question still remains, did the blonde get a nap?  Did the former baby stay in his bed, or continue his Harry Houdini "Out of Bed" act?  

Yesterday, the blonde got lunch ready for the former baby.  She is determined that she will train this child, possibly a pickier eater than herself, to eat a peanut butter sandwich.  I mean come on, who doesn't like peanut butter??  Weirdo!

So far, the baby seems to survive on fruit, cheese and toast exclusively.  Being a non-mommy, the blonde figures she can get him to add a new food to his diet.  I mean, she was successful at getting him to eat funnel cake this weekend.  I'm sure his mother will add funnel cake to his regular meal rotation.  Score one for the non-mommy!

Anyway, nap time has been a real bear lately for the former baby.  Nighttime too, but nap time is all this non-mommy has to deal with.  The non-mommy feeds him his lunch, knowing that the nap time battle will begin soon.  How many times will the non-mommy have to return him to his bed?  What if he never sleeps?  What if he's crazy and then his night time routine is affected, and the former baby's parents fire the non-mommy from her job?  THE PRESSURE!

The former baby ate well, even eating a little bit of a peanut butter sandwich.  Then it was time for nap time.  Cue the music from "Jaws."

The non-mommy put the child in his bed.  She kissed him, wished him a nice nap and firmly told him that he may not get out of his bed.  He must stay in his bed.

She cracked the door.  She walked just out of sight, listening for the former baby to get up and do his shenanigans.

And then the skies parted, angels sang, and a miracle occurred.  The former baby went to sleep!!!  For the first time in, well, forever.

Only, the blonde isn't a mommy, remember?  So instead of rejoicing and going straight to sleep herself, she found herself riddled with anxiety.  What was that noise?  Is he up?  Is he really asleep?  Is he breathing?  Why did he fall asleep so fast???  She needs to know these things!!!!!

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, until the non-mommy heard the news of her friend giving birth.  She gave birth to a kid that was NINE POUNDS and ELEVEN OUNCES.  Now perhaps you have given birth to an even larger baby, and if so, the non-mommy salutes you.  But today the non-mommy was in the grocery store and saw a ten pound bag of potatoes and she imagined shoving that sack of potatoes through something so small...so...delicate.  She hasn't recovered from the horror yet.  Perhaps being a non-mommy is the way it should be.  Or, the non-mommy should take a cue from Angelina Jolie and adopt from all over the world.  I mean, adoption is expensive, but it doesn't cause third degree tears "down there."  Shudder.

So, today the non-mommy and the former baby went to the hospital to see this giant bag of potatoes...I mean the baby.  The mother of the sack of potatoes was rightfully very exhausted and in pain.  She was very emotional and crying, stressing about the baby not taking her breast and how much pain she is in, and that she can't do anything because she's in so much pain.  This conversation took place with the former baby on the non-mommy's hip, alternating between leaning WAY OVER to see the sack of potatoes laying in the bassinet, and crying anytime anyone laughs.  Don't ask me to explain it, I'm not a mother.

As we departed (quickly, I might add, because the non-mommy doesn't know how to handle these situations and she's happy with her girly parts in one piece and not being chewed on!) a group of nurses was oohing and ahhing over the former baby, exclaiming how darn cute he was.  They even noticed him going into the room and waited for him to come out just because he was so cute.  They talked to the former baby and instead of being his shy self, he spoke to them in his sing songy voice.  Then they complimented the non-mommy on her son, saying he looked just like his mommy.

Did the non-mommy correct them?  HECK NO!  She's happy to parade around pretending that adorable children are really hers!

Today, the non-mommy dreams that she'll feed the former baby a meal of all new foods and he'll eat it, be nourished and be satisfied.  Then, because his belly is fully of healthy, organic vegetables and a nice piece of steak, he'll immediately drop into his bed for a nap with no fight, only telling the non-mommy how wonderful she is and how much he loves her.  Then the non-mommy can take a nap herself, pondering as she drifts off to sleep, the purpose of all these baby proofing measures parents take to keep their children from opening doors.  He just opens the door anyway or breaks the locking strap.

Yes, the non-mommy can dream.

Because that will only happen in a dream world!

Confessions

Today begins our feature installment of "Confessions of a Non-Mommy Blogger."  In this harrowing tale, our resident blonde takes over daycare duties of one adorable nephew (age:  two) for two weeks as the nephew's normal caretaker, his grandmother, goes on a trip to Hawaii.  Join us as we take an interesting journey through quasi-motherhood.

5:40 a.m. - Oh dear God, it cannot possibly be time to get up to take her to the airport.

5:43 a.m. - Hmm.  This house seems awfully dark.  I thought we had to leave by 6 a.m. to go to the airport?

[The blonde enters the dark master bedroom to find a peacefully slumbering mother.]

5:44 a.m. -  Mom.  Mom.  MOM.  MOOOOM.

[The slumbering mother jerks awake.]

5:45 a.m. -  Mom, it's 5:45 and we have to leave in 15 minutes.

[The oversleeper levitates out of her bed and flies to the restroom.  The blonde stumbles back to the living room, still in her pajamas, and plops on the couch.  She may not be fully awake, but she secretly LOVES not being the one oversleeping, for once.  It's a great sense of satisfaction to be the waker, not the wakee.  16 minutes later, the oversleeper makes it to the car and the blonde drops her off at the airport.  She then returns home.]

6:25 a.m. -  You know, being up this early isn't so bad!  I think I'll have a bowl of oats and blueberry cereal and read the news on my laptop!

7:00 a.m. -  I better take a shower.  The baby [editor's note:  FORMER baby] will be here soon.

7:05 a.m. - Oh crap, I have a massage tonight!  I better get out the machete and tame these wild beast legs.

[Following her shower, the blonde puts on a shirt from her uncle's tire shop and her most comfy yoga pants.  She then puts laundry in the washing machine.  The baby arrives.]

7:40 - Hello!  How are you?

7:45 - This is great!  I'm doing laundry and the baby is playing happily.  I totally want to be a stay at home mother!

[The blonde then plays cars with her nephew, making the appropriate crashing noises.  She then begins to feel tired.]

8:05 - Oh man.  I'm soooo tired.  Isn't it time for a nap yet?  Maybe this stay at home thing isn't all that it's cracked up to be.

[The blonde and the former baby then sing songs together and she then follows the former baby into a bedroom.]

8:20 - I'm so sleepy!  This bed looks so comfy.  I think I'll lay down.

8:20:30 - Ug!!  Who is this small creature on my back?

[The blonde then pretends to be a horsey, giving the child a ride.  Unfortunately, he likes this game and requests that she does it over and over, with a shrill cry of "AGAIN!!!"]

8:35 - OK, this horsey is tired, we have to stop.  Hey, let's go read a book!

[The former baby shrieks "NO!"  Then he begins to sing "Dinah won't you blow, Dinah won't you blow, Dinah won't you blow your hoooooorn!"]

8:45 a.m. - No, Former Baby, stop touching my laptop!  This thing was expensive!

Stay tuned to this channel to find out what happens in the afternoon.  Will the former baby nap well?  Will the blonde get to take a nap?  

*THIS JUST IN!  A thunderstorm has just blown in, and instead of a scared baby, the blonde now has to deal with a hugely fat, scared chocolate lab that keeps trying to crawl in her lap.  The excitement never stops!