Tag Archives: parenting

Saturday night spit-up

I have been a parent for eighty days and during those eighty days I have spent about eighty minutes away from Evelyn. I exaggerate of course, but not too much. Since I’ve been a parent I’ve been to one movie and have gone out to dinner one time, that’s two nights out in two and a half months. Before Evelyn was born, Jay and I either had people over or went out just about every Friday and Saturday night, and even sometimes on Thursdays or Sundays too. 

When I was pregnant, Jay and I would talk about how hard it was going to be to stay in so much; neither of us are homebodies, we’re both quite the opposite. We talked about how we were going to miss going to the movies once a week and how it was going to be hard to not be able to hang out with our friends every weekend. We knew we weren’t going to be able to do these things so often anymore, not only because we had to physically care for the baby, but because we would have to start saving more money as well.

Luckily, we’ve always been smart about our finances, so we knew that change wouldn’t be too difficult. What we didn’t expect was that it would be so easy to stay home so much. Why spend ten dollars or more on a movie ticket when you can entertain your very own baby so she smiles at you? Why go to a bar or club and small that hairy guy’s body odor all night when you can smell the sweet smell of your baby’s neck? Why go out and end up having to take care of your drunk friend when you can take care of the Most Adorable Baby in the World? Why clean up that drunk person’s throw up when you can instead clean your baby’s spit up?



I think some of our friends have this misconception about being a parent because we’re so young. I think some of them feel bad for us because we don’t have certain freedoms anymore, and it bothers me a lot. I hate that some of them think of  my daughter as a cute little burden. My daughter is the greatest thing in my life, no amount of missed nights out could change that. I’m sure as she gets older it will be a lot easier for me to leave her, but right now I’m perfectly content with going another eighty days with two nights out. 


Two Months

Dear Social Butterfly,

You were born two months ago today. I honestly cannot believe it’s been two months. This is strange because it feels like it was only just the other day that you made your first appearance. I feel this way because the memory of being paralyzed with emotion when you were plopped on my chest is so vivid in my mind as I write this. All the memories proceeding that exact moment feel like a lifetime ago. It’s as if I was pregnant years ago but just had you moments ago. Strange, I know. I can only hope you will have similar experiences, experiences that change not only your life, but who you are and therefore what you make of that life. Those experiences are the kind that make life worth living.


This month has been marked by the amazing way you’ve developed socially. Ever since you learned to smile at people (not just when you fell asleep or passed gas), you’ve been quite social with anyone you come in close contact with. You and I have already carried on extensive conversations about the weather, the crumbling economy, and what holiday movies we’re looking forward to the most, among other topics. Not only do you smile at me, you make various expressions and have several different grunts, coos, gurgles and murmurs that tell me you aren’t particularly favoring this seasons early cold streak, you have high hopes that the bill for another stimulus check will give the economy the boost it needs, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button looks amazing, but The Spirit looks to be a dud.

We usually carry on several of these conversations before your father gets home from work, at which point you give him your playoff picks and opinion on which Heisman winner will win the BCS title game. You also have discussions with your cousin Elijah when he comes over, but I can only make out half of what he’s discussing with you, you two usually use your own baby language.


You aren’t particularly shy with any of the family or friends that hold you either, though I do think you’re more reserved about your opinions with those you don’t know well, judging by the fact that those conversations are a lot shorter.

You even exchanged words with that terrible doctor just before he poked and prodded you mercilessly. After that you were so angry with him you only gave him your Tomato Red Cry, something you kept up until the second he left the room. Your first breakup of sorts. Don’t worry though; he wasn’t your regular pediatrician so there isn’t likely to be any awkward post-breakup conversations with him in the future. I should warn you though, some men will mistake you’re friendliness flirting and judging by the conversation your father had with you the other day, you’re not going to be allowed to date until after graduate school. 




You don’t even really know me, so how can you tell me twenty is too young to have a child? Um, how many kids did you have you bitter old hag? That’s right, zero. SO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW?