Vampire baby

I’m not sure why, but I find it very easy to be creeped out by small children. I think I’ve seen way too many movies and TV shows in which children talk to ghosts, are possessed by the devil or do otherwise scary things. I really don’t know how I’ll handle it the first time I hear Kaylee talking to an imaginary friend.

That said, I’ve never actually been scared of a real child. Even though my niece Hope once told her mom about a woman in her bedroom mirror with red eyes, I don’t consider Hope especially scary. But I wouldn’t go into her room at night.

I think it’s so easy for Hollywood to get to me because kids are supposed to be the height of innocence. So the idea of one of them suddenly turning evil is not only terrifying, but completely unexpected. It doesn’t help that they usually reserve the worst torment for their mothers.

The other night, Rob and I watched an episode of a TV show called Supernatural, in which a town’s children were kidnapped by changlings. The kids were kept in cages while the changlings took their forms and their places in the household. They’d follow their moms around and say things like “Come play with me, Mommy” in this monotone that made me shiver. Then, when the moms were sleeping at night, they’d feed on her by sucking on this wound on her neck.

All right, I know my summary made the show sound stupid and unbelievable, but it was really creepy. Really. Stop laughing at me.

Anyway, later that night, I was feeding Kaylee and thinking about how nice it is that she hasn’t been possessed by an evil spirit or kidnapped by a supernatural creature, and that she didn’t seem terribly interested in devouring my soul. And I put her head on my shoulder to pat her back, while she snoozed away.

And then, very slowly, she turned her head toward me and licked my neck.

I think she’s checking for weak spots. You know, for when she gets teeth.

Poo-poo head

On Saturday, I dressed Kaylee in one of my favorite outfits for her: a onesie that says “little monkey” and has a picture of a monkey eating a banana. When I saw it in the store, I just had to buy it -- even though I was in a Gymboree, where the clothes are much too expensive when you consider that the baby will grow out of them in 10 minutes. That’s how much I love this onesie.

So imagine my horror when I realized that, 15 minutes after I dressed her, Kaylee had a diaper explosion. And not just any diaper explosion –- a sick baby diaper explosion. That’s the worst kind, I’ve recently learned.

I had to call Rob in for reinforcements while I cleaned poo off her calves, thighs and back. I didn’t actually need him to do anything other than cheer me on, but his laughter was a nice counterpoint to my frantic chanting of “ew, ew, ew, ew.”

After I’d properly mourned the staining of the monkey onesie and sent Rob off to throw it in the washing machine, I dressed Kaylee in something else and started trying to forgive her for the incident.

Later, I carried her into our bedroom to talk to Rob, while I nuzzled her and pretended to eat her neck, face and head. Then I held her out to Rob and said, “Here, kiss your daughter.”

He gave her a peck on the side of the head, and then as I pulled her away, he said, “What is that on her head? ... Is that poo? Does she have POO on her HEAD?”

I turned her around and there it was. Poop. Right there in her hair, most likely deposited there when I took her onesie off.

And Rob, sweet husband that he is, had one more thing to say.

“You really are going to turn her into the stinky kid, aren’t you?”

Six things I’ve said to Kaylee in the past seven days

"How’d you get a booger in your ear?”

“Don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee don’t pee…”

“That’s one thing you’ll learn when you’re older: Boys don’t listen.”

“Is that chocolate on the back of your head?”

“Don’t believe anything your daddy tells you. Ever.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I have poo under my fingernail. Now I have to go boil my hand.”

The stinky kid

A couple of weeks ago, I was feeding Kaylee a bottle first thing in the morning, and she was craning backward to see something interesting on the blank ceiling, flattening out all the little folds in her neck.

I looked down to find that my precious baby had a ring of grime around her neck, crusted into one of her many creases. My only theory is that some formula leaked down her chin and onto her neck and dried there … and then started accumulating dirt and fuzz.

Now, I knew she had a couple of chins and all that, but I didn’t realize her creases were deep enough to store snacks.

I’ve only been giving her baths about twice a week, because I figure she’s not especially mobile and just isn’t capable of getting all that dirty. And on that particular morning, I’d put off bathing her for a couple of days because I’d just been too busy in the evenings to get around to it.

So that morning I resolved to start giving her a bath every other day, regardless of my schedule – especially after I told my coworkers this story and one of them said, “Ew, she’s going to be the stinky kid in class.” (Because every elementary school class has that one kid who smells.)

I’m two weeks into my August Baby Bathing Resolution, and how am I doing? Well, I’ve stuck to the every-other-day plan exactly zero times.

Sigh.

Well, she may end up being the stinky kid, but at least she’s a cute stinky kid.


A note to Rob: She does NOT look like a Jedi in this picture. She also is not a hobbit or a member of The Horde.