I helped host my first baby shower for my sister-in-law this weekend and I think it went surprisingly well.  I say “surprisingly” because I know nothing about babies or showers.   I figured as long as there was food and cake, I could overcome any other obstacles.  I did my research and provided games to play, cute decorations and party favors for guests.  Not long after the shower started I realized I had forgotten how easy it is for a room full of women to quickly become comfortable with one another and chat about almost anything. 

All the baby talk did remind me of an encounter I had with my niece when she was a baby.  A couple of years ago, The Hubbs dropped me off at his mom’s house and went to run an errand.  I walked in the house and heard my mother-in-law calling for help from the kitchen while both of her dogs were barking non-stop.  She was trying to get them into the sun-room, their own personal gulag.  Then, came the wailing from my niece.  Uh oh.  Baby not happy.  My mother-in-law handed me my niece and told me that the dogs had pooped on the floor and my niece had crawled through it.  All of this happened seconds before I walked through the door.  That’s called “Alissa Timing.” My mother-in-law asked me to run a bath and clean my niece up while she cleaned the dogs and the floor.  She handed me the baby. 

Ah mmmm….a sack of sugar.  A screaming sack of sugar covered in excrement.  I took her in the bathroom and turned on the water.  Okay…don’t they have one of those baby boat things…the ones that they sit in so you can clean them?  How am I supposed to clean her and can she hold herself up? How much water do I put in the tub?  I KNEW I should have babysat more often as a kid.  How do I get this diaper off?  Is the water too cold…please stop screaming…I know, I don’t like being covered in poop, either.  Which soap is hers?  Please don’t look at me like that, like this is the worst thing that has ever happened to you.  I’m not the one that pooped on the floor and you’re the one that decided to crawl through it.  Ahhhh….okay.  Now, work with me here.  You’re nakey and now you’re slippery like a little fish.   Can you use plain old Dial on a baby?  Well, I’m using it.  Show me your armpits.  And in between your toes.  So, I’m thinking you’re probably clean now.  Sorry, I’m not cleaning your parts.  We don’t know each other well enough for that yet.  Where is your mother?  Where is The Hubbs?  Gah.  I’m going to be a terrible mother.  Oh Lord, please don’t let me drop her.  Now.  Let’s get you dry. 

I had just gotten her dried off when The Hubbs walked in and asked me what was going on.  While I explained the experience of being handed the most fragile bag of sugar in the world, covered in poop no less, we searched through all the baby products for the right creams and powders and eventually got her into a clean diaper.  I think my niece and I felt a little better after that.  She calmed down and I was finally convinced that I wasn’t going to drop her.  And, there was a moment while I was holding her and The Hubbs looked at me and I could tell that he was seeing our future.  Hopefully, when the time comes for us to have our own kids I won’t refer to them as bags of sugar.

Clean and getting to know each other after the poop incident.

Clean and getting to know each other after the poop incident.

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