I Can’t Quit You, Baby.

For over a year, I’ve thrown my musings about babywrangling all over this here internet. Oh sure, our website is mainly devoted to binge drinking and sleazy winks, but I’ve consistently kept you updated on my very furious and demanding daughter, Angry Baby.

In keeping with my tradition of unvarnished honesty, I have a startling confession to make, one that shocked even yours truly. Angry Baby is 20 months old next week, and until last week, Lover Fo’ Life and I had never taken a vacation from her.

We’d had a coupla nights without Angry Baby, one evening at a time here and there, but the two of us had never left town together on a vacation without her until this past Memorial Day weekend.

Months ago, (isn’t that how it always starts?) my brother Thane-o explained that he was inviting us down to his company beach house for the Memorial Day weekend. Seeing as this was back in January, we instantly agreed to join him and his wife down on Mustang Island. Funny how when something is months away you have no problem committing, then as the date appears, you begin to question: “What the heck were we thinking!?”

Fresh off of buying and moving into our new house, not yet completely unpacked, L4L and I groaned about all the work we should be doing rather than galavanting down to the Texas shore for a beach bonanza. In the end, we did what was right and held our word. We secured my sainted moms in law for the weekend to watch Angry Baby and planned to head out Friday before Memorial Day and return on the following Monday.

The day of departure arrived. Where earlier in the week I was bragging to friends that “any time away from Angry Baby would be a blessing,” in real life, (or IRL as the kids call it,) I was a mess all Friday morning.

Perhaps she picked up on my weakened state and decided to exploit it, because Angry Baby was particularly precious the Friday morning before we left. She crawled up on the couch and snuggled with me, cooing and smiling. Why, it was as if her tiny baby evil genius brain was telling me: “Don’t leave mom, how could you abandon me for 48+ hours IN A ROW!?”

Lover Fo’ Life came home to find me a weeping mess while attempting to pack.

“What’s wrong, sweets?”

As usual, I didn’t feel the need to filter for him, I gave L4L full on crazy: ” What if we die on this trip and leave our sweet little baby an orphan!?” For extra emphasis, I repeated: “AN ORPHAN!”

“We’ll be fine, she’s not going to even miss us before we’re back.”

He was right, Angry Baby was getting to stay with granny for the weekend, if we were LUCKY by the time Monday rolled around she might still remember us, Angry Baby lurves her granny.

But nonetheless, your hard-hearted and gorgeous host was reduced to a pile of hysterical jello.

Before your eyes roll out of your head, let me just stop you. I never expected to be the lady who can’t leave her child for more than 24 hours at a time. For those of you child free out there, allow me to explain…

Having a kid voids all previous relationships with time, life speeds up exponentially. The first 2 months of your precious lil’ miracle’s life, are spent being tortured and beaten to a bloody pulp by said miracle. Newborn babies are a cruel beast in line with something from greek mythology. Only, instead of being a hideous monster, like say the Hydra, newborns are tiny and adorable.

After your soul is nearly crushed from the sleep deprivation and copious amounts of infant crying, Babies hit a golden patch at about 3-6 months. They’re still a lot of work, but far more manageable. The next several months fly and can almost be described as “enjoyable.” You look up just as your child is about to turn 1 and say to yourself: “Where did the time go?”

And once the bambino turns 1? Well, chances are they are walking and or VERY mobile, where you once had a grumpy little lump, there is now a little person who has likes, a sense of humor and is capable of self-entertaining. We never meant to go 2.5 years without a vacation, it just kinda happened.

As a selfish jerk,  I’m the first to reward myself for a “job well done.” I can’t believe it took me so long to take an adults only getaway. And what about that trip down to the company beach house: how did a childless Crib Keeper fare?

Bonus cliffhanger question: Why did our group of friends collectively vomit a total of 13 times?



I Can’t Quit You, Baby. — 1 Comment

  1. Lol. It’s not been that bad over here. Maybe I’m used to it since I was the oldest. Cindy does all the worrying. It’s just not worth it. I’m definitely aware of how much time has lapsed.

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