My Life With Babies: A Short Personal History, Part One

Ask ANYONE who knows me well and they will tell you that I have been baby crazy for, as long as anyone, including myself, can remember. When I was two years, I went up to a one one year old, bent down (like two inches) and said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Why helloooo, little baby!" That baby probably thought to herself, "Jesus, how patronizing!" As a child, I preferred to wash and bathe my rocking horse rather than ride it. And dolls, well that was a whole other level. To say that I liked to play with dolls does not truly describe the dedication I had to parenting my extensive brood. When I was 7, I got twin Cabbage Patch Dolls for Christmas and promptly called a Family Meeting with my other children to gently explain that just because there were new babies in the house, did not mean that I loved them all any less, and that I had firm expectations that they behave and treat their new baby brothers well.

At age 10 and a half, I enrolled in a Red Cross certified babysitting course, because in the state of Ohio, you can start babysitting when you turn 11. Although slightly alarmed when the legs of the cpr dummy I was giving mouth to mouth to flew off from the force of my breath, I, armed with my shiny new certification card, a pink corduroy Kid Kit- that I had hand sewn with a variety of zippers, buttons and ties on the outside for children to practice their developmental milestones, and a long list of babysitting tips gleaned from my extensive collection of Babysitter Club books, set out to conquer the world of all things baby.

Fast forward three years, I'm 13 years old and still playing with dolls. I know, sad, but true. But at this point its reached a new level of insanity. I became obsessed with having "real" baby accessories, not toy baby accessories, which I bought (a Green parent from the start) from local thrift stores. I carried a doll with me in public often (except for school, thank God), usually in a bucket car seat. My obsession was that others mistake my doll for a REAL baby, and think, "Oh, how darling, look at that 13 year old awkward child carrying a baby in a Snugli.." Its not that I wanted people to think it was my baby, but perhaps my baby sister or brother (Reason # 1,289 why my parents should have had more than one child).) By the way, the picture posted here is sadly, not me, but it should have been.

I soon transitioned (much to the relief of Mom and Dad) away from dolls and toward cats, papering my walls with centerfolds from Cat Fancy. I got a little annoyed when my cats wouldn't let me carry them in the Snugli or the car seat. I made a ten foot banner on PrintShop that read "Cats Rule and Dogs Drool." But babies were not far from my mind...

I continued babysitting in all my free time, which proved over the next 17 years or so, to serve as an excellent anecdote to having my own children. However, it did not keep me from, privately, throughout my teen years, stuffing my t-shirts with pillows and imaging what I would look like 'with child'. It was also around this time that I started hoarding maternity clothes (I will return to this gem later). Of course my habit of stuffing my shirt did mot begin to make public appearances until I was in college, when it was, much, much more appropriate.

***Vital Disclaimer**** My intense desire to have a baby NEVER meant that I actually wanted to be a pregnant teenager, nor did any of my teenage "behavior" support this. The way I described it then, and throughout my early twenties, is that I never wanted anything so much in my life, while simultaneously not wanting it right then. It was, as it remains to be, extremely important to me that when I did have a baby that it be with a committed life partner who I had vigorously vetted to be excellent father material (More on this later, as well).