I’m in Cairns, visiting my sister Sarah and her new baby. He’s three months old and is the nicest baby I’ve met. I mean, I admittedly haven’t met too many babies, and have never spent more than a couple minutes with any baby at a time, but this one is definitely the best. He smiles non stop and has only cried twice in five days. He defies all baby rules!
So, like, he’ll be sitting there squirming, and I’ll look over at him and notice he’s staring at me really intensely. So I’ll say hi to him and tell him how poochy his features are, and he’ll do this full face smile. You know that ‘muscles in a smile’ saying that is designed to get you to feel stupid for being sad? Well this baby uses twice as many muscles as even that. I mean gummy mouth stretched wide and gaping, nose scrunched up, eyebrows waggling, the goddamn works. Then after a few seconds he’ll suddenly look bashfully away, like so much full on love is making him uncomfortable. It sounds one-off quirky but he honestly does this every time single gosh darn time I look at him.
He makes heaps of weird noises, drools the Niagra falls constantly, and when he poops it reverberates through the entire house. It seriously sounds like a squelchy volcano in his pants and goes on for two minutes or something, but in disturbing spurts.
Scene: Today we go to the movies to see Girls Trip (perfect! we’re sisters having a girls movie day!). It’s his first movie and we’re uncertain how he’ll take it. We sit down in a spot where we can have his pram, and immediately the ads and previews come on and they are just SO loud. I’ve actually never noticed how loud this shit is. We both look at the baby and he is just ogling the screen, happy as anything. We are clearly more perturbed by the eardrum assault than he is.
We sit through the movie and he seriously just sits there and contentedly watches the whole thing with us. Not a peep. I mean, at one point Sarah gets up to feed him, but besides that I have barely noticed he is there. So not what the dramatised baby anecdotes would have me believe.
The movie ends in an appropriately tear-jerking manner. We have lunch and do a bit of shopping (I get new Bonds house-shorts for $12!) and baby is doing just fine. Seriously, he just loves sitting in a pram while the adults totally ignore him! Everyone should have one!
Time to go home and nap (for me I mean). We stick him in the car seat and head home, but a couple minutes into the drive he starts crying. “He doesn’t want to be in the car seat,” Sarah hypothesises, “I think it could be getting a bit small for him.” We both sit there trying to come up with reasons he might be upset. “Such a big day,” “He’s overtired,” etc, because seriously he never cries. This is weird and we need to make sense of it.
At a red light Sarah leans back and tries to put his dummy in to soothe him, but nope, he doesn’t want it. Oh well, not much we can do! We’ll be home soon!
Then he goes silent. A second later, gurgling liquid sounds. Sarah and I both silently look at each other as more gurgling sounds occur. “O shit.”
We pull over and there is puke EVERYWHERE. He is soaked. His car seat is an ocean now. It looks like curds in water. Sarah pulls him out and tries to cuddle him without marinating herself in her own partially digested breastmilk.
We get home and I offer to clean out the car seat. I end up juicy to the elbows in about ten thousand litres of my close family’s bodily fluids. This is a few hours ago now and I still feel a bit gross. So yeah, babies. The stories are true, man.
The movie was pretty fricken hilarious, btw.