Baby Love

I'm always the first person in the room to say it - I don't like kids. I didn't even like kids when I was a kid.

And yet....

When Taytie was born, I found myself liking him an awful lot, but I just chalked that up to the fact that he was related and it was mandatory. But as he started to grow and have friends, I found myself liking them as well. Then came Matt, the little boy of a friend, who I've always had more than a soft spot for, and then Kath at work's grandson, affectionately known as Pugsley (or The Pugman, as I call him), the toddler who growls at people who are eating without offering him a bite. Then there are the Marrs Boys, the three brothers who live down the street from Taytie, three of the coolest, neatest, and nicest kids you'd ever meet. Oh, and of course there's Ervin the Cute, little boy of Kellie the oboist and acroer. And whiz-kid M from clarinet trios, and her brother, the equally whizzed-kid E. And of course, there's a long line of various and sundry anklebiters who come through the office and ogle my toys.

And soon I came to realize that at a lot of adult/child gatherings, I was hanging around with the kids. So I decided that kids are probably just like cats. They know the people who don't like them, and go right up to them and cling to their legs. Out of spite.

And now there are two more little ones in my life, if only peripherally. A couple of weeks ago, my beautiful and strong-handed pedicurist S gave birth to a little girl, Johnna. Now, one part of me said this was completely horrible. See, a couple of years ago, S had the same surgery I did, and how anyone could go through all that and want to get pregnant is beyond me, though that's not really a fair statement because how someone could want to get pregnant under any circumstances is beyond me. But another part of me knew that S and a baby girl were a perfect match. After all, S is one of the great carers of the world, as evidenced by the fact that she can't say no to a stray animal, and that she spent four or so years caring for her ex-husband when he was stricken with a terminal illness. S and her little girl will be very happy.

Then remember the baby shower I told you I went to last weekend? The one where I won a prize for being a worthless TV- and movie-watching couch potato? Well, that was for my friend San's daughter-in-law. And apparently that baby was so excited by the massive stash coming her way from the baby shower she popped out a whole three weeks early to have a look at it. So Sunday night little Kendall appeared in the world. And may I just make it clear that I've never been so happy to see a baby named Kendall in my entire life. As I think I mentioned here once, this is the baby a family member was trying to pin the name Emerson on. And this tiny hours-old girl actually went about 2/3 of her first day of living thinking her name was going to be Emerson. Then cooler heads prevailed. Thank God. Emerson should only be your name if you're a VCR or a flute. Or a member of a now-defunct 70s band.

Now, although A & D are going to be great parents, I must admit I was a little disappointed by the prospect of their having a girl. See, I've known D, San's son, forever, and he really needed a boy. He needed a boy to give him the same kind of hell he gave his folks growing up. Something I would have enjoyed seeing in my waning years.

And who knows, maybe I'll still have that chance. Because babies are being born all the time now, aren't they?

But I don't like them. You can't make me like them!

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Spent the first of my tax refund money today by buying a new TV for the dennette. I picked it out, pushed it into my cart, bought it, got it in the car, and got it in the house all by myself, without nary a man. I'm proud.
* Hold the phone and stop the presses. I ate an M & M today.
* I also got a kiss at work from an 88 year old man.