I'm not much of a joiner. I like to think that I'd be a team player if I were on a team, but I avoid joining them.
I am now a (baby-carrying?) member of the Parenthood Club. There are the smiles and nods with other parents and caregivers on the street. Often, if I'm with the bambino, other parents, with or without their babies, will start talking. Sometimes it is pleasant - I found myself sharing late-night-no-sleep stories with the receptionist at the dentist's office. Another time I chatted about teething with the mother of a little girl in an elevator.
And sometimes it isn't pleasant. Should we get along and share intimate details of our lives just because we are caring for tiny humans? No. And no, please don't touch my child if we don't know each other. No, don't let your animal sniff my child if we don't know each other. No, I don't want to discuss nursing.
Waiting for my husband to get the car after dinner out one cold night, I stood by the entrance to the restaurant with the bambino in the stroller. An older woman came by and started to coo at him and make crazy faces. I was polite, but did try to make sure she didn't touch the bambino. She started to ask intimate questions about nursing and his poop. When she was finally called to her table, the bambino looked up at me and raised his eyebrows.
Even he knew something was up.
I am now a (baby-carrying?) member of the Parenthood Club. There are the smiles and nods with other parents and caregivers on the street. Often, if I'm with the bambino, other parents, with or without their babies, will start talking. Sometimes it is pleasant - I found myself sharing late-night-no-sleep stories with the receptionist at the dentist's office. Another time I chatted about teething with the mother of a little girl in an elevator.
And sometimes it isn't pleasant. Should we get along and share intimate details of our lives just because we are caring for tiny humans? No. And no, please don't touch my child if we don't know each other. No, don't let your animal sniff my child if we don't know each other. No, I don't want to discuss nursing.
Waiting for my husband to get the car after dinner out one cold night, I stood by the entrance to the restaurant with the bambino in the stroller. An older woman came by and started to coo at him and make crazy faces. I was polite, but did try to make sure she didn't touch the bambino. She started to ask intimate questions about nursing and his poop. When she was finally called to her table, the bambino looked up at me and raised his eyebrows.
Even he knew something was up.
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