We had dinner the other night with two of our friends who had a baby back in August. Everyone has always told me how natural I look -- and how easy I make it look -- with a baby in my arms. What they don't know, is that I didn't start out that way - OH NO. But since the first time, twenty-six years ago, I've learned a few things...
Now, the first time I suppose can be excused since I was, afterall, only two years old. And I was only acting on true sibling love and concern. Really.
My mother -- who was younger then than I am today (EEK) -- had left Sweet Baby Robby laying on his blanket in the bedroom while she went to get something from the bathroom. In a panic, knowing that Sweet Baby Robby could neither talk nor walk by himself, I snagged the chunky little ball of fat under one arm and over the other (yes, that means I was choking him...) and hauled him after our maternal figure. "MOOOOOOMM!! Don't forget the BABY!!" Hence began the years of well-intentioned, but still harmful, sibling abuse.
Robby passed it on when he laid 4 month old Karlyn on the dining room table... and she rolled off and fractured her skull. No wonder the girl's got issues. I'm trying to think what we did to Kerri, but I'm drawing a blank.
All I know is that by the time I was 10 and a half, I had practiced juggling no fewer than three babies (one at a time). And after years of high school babysitting jobs, I'd juggled many more (one at a time). So, yeah, I make it look easy with other people's kids... But I'm getting a lot more sleep than their parents are and I've had more experience than your average only child.
This in no way implies that I am ready for one of my own. It just would not mesh well with the whole first year of teaching thing. Nope. Sorry.