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Tuesday, November 06, 2007Claiming the BabyIt was bound to happen sooner or later. Jonathan, the girls, and I were leaving the church building via the side door. Maggie was holding Molly in her arms while I walked jauntily ahead of the gang toward our parked Sienna. The sun was shining, the baby was fed, and we were heading home early, sans Daddy and Spencer, so that Molly's next nap wouldn't be trashed. The extra-large man standing in the parking lot was no stranger to me, though I still don't know his name. He's a kindly soul, hanging out before and during the service to help with parking and general traffic-and-people directing in the church lot. I smiled a casual hello as I walked by, aware that he was watching us as we began to file across the macadam. That's when he said it: "Whose baby is that?" I stopped and turned around. Maggie had also stopped; being the baby-bearer, the question had been directed at her. It seemed, however, that she didn't quite know what to say. So I jumped right in. "It's mine!" I allowed a smile to spread across my face to make it seem like I enjoyed being questioned about my child's parentage. "It's my baby!" So. Whose baby did he think it was? The extra-large man, my children, and I were the only folks in the immediate vicinity. Maggie was obviously too young to be the mother, and I was obviously -- I can't say it. Now, to be somewhat fair, our church is overflowing with babies. Some say it's in the water (Eric won't let me drink it anymore). Some say it's a special blessing on our church family (Eric says we'll have to find a new church). And just about everybody in the fellowship can be seen holding a baby at one time or another, and it may or may not be their own. Still. If someone had handed me her baby, why would I be leaving the church building? At any rate, I continued the small-talk-about-my-baby with the Baby Patrol Officer for a minute or so, agreeing with him that it's easy to forget how tiny they are when you've got older ones of your own. "Mine's twenty," he explained. I half expected him to say, "I'll bet you have a twenty-year-old tucked away somewhere, too." Because, after all, this couldn't possibly be my baby. Why, I was herding a gaggle of teens-and-preteens out the side door. I was obviously their mother. I fit the profile of mom-with-children-of-two-digit-ages. And that diaper bag slung over my shoulder? Why, it must have looked like an attache case. Or maybe I was carrying it for the real mother. Honestly, I got over the "I'm too old for this" by the time I hit my second trimester. I don't feel "too old" anymore, and, unless you get way too close, I don't look too old. But I'm not delusional, either. I don't have the "spring chicken" look that first-time mommies have when they're in the midst of their twenty-somethings. And despite my refusal to look frumpy or middle-aged, I do have that "mom of older kids" look about me. How could I not? I've got a houseful of them. Indulge me just a little bit, though. I mean, even if you don't think the baby belongs to the mommy, don't say anything! Manners 101, you know? Okay. I feel a little better now. A little better. And the next time someone asks us whose baby Molly is, I'll just smile sweetly and say, "We bought her in the black market. You won't tell anyone, will you?" Whose baby, indeed. |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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8of my readers are feeling chatty:
What a very strange question to be asked! Here is the one I am getting all the time (that equally baffles me), when someone sees me with my 4 year old, two year old and newborn girls and they ask "are you trying for a boy?". How on earth can they say that in front of the girls? What should I say? I need a snappy come back like yours.
You MUST blog if you do in fact say you bought her on the blackmarket, I can't wait to hear their reaction!!!
You go mama!
Jillian, my mom was 42 when she had me. Johns Hopkins University wanted her to participate in a "landmark study" because she conceived me when she was "so old".
Guess what? She didn't participate.
:)
Okay, first I must ask... what is "that mom of older kids" look? Do I have it or have I invalidated it by having a fresh crop of wee ones too? I suspect all I have is that "mom who lost her mind 4 children ago" look. :-)
And ahh, yes, I'm in full support of the snippy-but-well-deserved response. One time when a cashier at the market asked me if they were all mine I told them no, I'd been snatching cute ones that caught my fancy from random carts as I shopped. :-P
Oh Jill, that is funny! I get comments all the time too.
Oh and by the way, I am a mom with a newborn AND have a 20 year old tucked away. LOL
And sadly I think I have the old frumpy mom look.
Well... I guess its better than what my sister got:
"When is your baby due?"
"Uhh... I'm not pregnant!"
LMSO!!!! That was funny. I love all of the Ericisms....
LMSO at the "black market" comment, too...I'll have to share one of my Ida stories with you sometime.
I am just thankful no one has asked me if I am Miss Six's grandmother yet, unlike her poor father who got asked if he was enjoying having his grand daughter out for the day
WTHECK !! lol
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