The twenties: a magical time you dream about while you grow up. Freedom. Security. Cash-money. Buying and eating all of the candy possible. Being a grown-up?
I guess I used to think that by this point in my life I would be a full-blown adult. Very wrong.
One week after my 22nd birthday, my little, sweet, grahamcracker smelling nephew was born. He was so tiny and cozy wrapped up in his super soft baby blankets. He didn’t cry, he liked to sleep and obtained his goofy personality very early on. What an adorable little infant to hold. And give back.
Cut to my college graduation: the baby is now 5 months old and mine for a weekend! He smiles and laughs and bros down in his diaper. He wore my mortar board and drank about 2 gallons of water (only a little bit of juice added in!) and went through about 30 diapers. He was hungry and wanted to eat every ten minutes. He completely soaked my entire bathroom during bathtime, to the point of needing to change the toilet paper roll. He was exhausting, and I had a great time with him. And then I gave him back.
The first Christmas at home when he was two years old. Dad and I gave him as much candy as he wanted and let his mom deal with bed time. We showering him with presents and love and yummy food. We sent him on his merry way back home.
Do you see a trend here? Giving him back. I like to refer to this as my Sex Ed class. Birth control. First hand experience with child rearing when you are 100% not ready.
Renting a baby.
I adore that kid, and he is a ton of fun to chill with – but I am more than happy at the end of our time together to return him and give up any responsibility that surrounds him**. I give mothers a ton of credit, and I too will someday be a real adult and be ready for a sticky and crusty cute little bundle of joy.
** Author’s note: it is sooo much easier to just give in and let them eat 3 bowls of Cheerios instead of a balanced dinner!