Do you know how hard it is to keep up with my reputation as a 2-month-old baby? After birth, I have to learn how to eat, sleep AND poop – all the while looking cute. It is exhausting. Especially since I have to wake up every two hours screaming my lungs out to get a sip of warm milk. What does one have to do to get a drink around here?! Suck a toe? Why can’t they just buy me a bigger stomach so I can drink more and sleep for a full day?
At this stage, due to the multiple interruptions, I only get to sleep 15 hours total.
Don’t even get me started about lack of sleep. A lot of people told Mommy to “cherish this stage because babies grow up fast.” I was astonished. Do these people not like to sleep? I cannot comprehend why parents would trade a full day’s sleep for 20-minute naps every two hours to tend to a baby; of course, it worked well in my favor. Sometimes, these parents even give up sleep to clean the house!
They do know that baby bottles and laundry just clean themselves, right?
I use 10-12 bottles a day and sometimes projectile vomit on the floor. Everything just self-cleans when I wake up without having to lift a pinky. The life of a grown-up is too confusing. Can I go back to sleep now? Or tell me where I can buy more sleep. Please add it to my online shopping cart while I nap. I’ll pick it up in two hours.
Kick kick kick. Wake up! Wake up! It is 2 AM. I’m hungry! The lifeless body didn’t budge.
Kick kick kick. Swinging my arms around, I tried to pivot on my back towards Mommy lying next to me. At two-months-old, moving for any distance is a challenge.
Kick kick kick. Oh, I just kicked something. Most likely the hip.
Kick kick kick. As if jumping on a sideways trampoline, I pushed hard on the rib cage. She stirred.
A second later, fingers started feeling around my face. No dummy! I want milk, not a face massage. “Wahhh!”
The fingers found the pacifier buried in my neck and shoved it back in my mouth. I closed my eyes. Satisfied.
Suck suck suck. When is the milk coming?
Suck suck suck. You tricked me!
Kick kick kick. Time to feed me. The pacifier fell out of my mouth as I started wailing.
“Okay, okay, I’m up,” still half-asleep, Mommy got off the bed and turned on the light.
I only have to kick her 15 times tonight before getting a response. Perhaps Daddy will do better when he takes the next shift.
Calm down, Parents! It has only been five days since my last bowel movement. I can handle this. I let out a grunt as they pump my legs and massage my belly on the changing table.
“Looks like we don’t have a choice; her stomach is bulging. Let’s get the suppository ready,” said Daddy grimly.
“But she’s only 2-months-old,” Mommy murmured.
Wait, what’s a s..s…s.. sup…tory?
Mommy held a small, white container and a few towels in her hand while Daddy started taking off my diaper. She handed a clear, short rod to Daddy. Okay… this does not seem like my usual diaper change. Can anyone tell me what’s going on?!
They both took a deep breath. I, on the other hand, held my breath as something tickled my butt.
I exhaled as it glides in my butthole.
Ah! It is going to eat me from the inside out! I squeeze my butt muscles, plop, it slid out. I have to get away before it comes back. As if running a marathon, I quickly kicked my legs up and down. Unfortunately, it is a futile effort as I am still on my back.
Mommy grabbed my legs. “You’re okay, Dora,” she gently kissed my forehead as I felt that thing crawling in my butthole again. I squeezed my butt muscles. This time, it stays put… inside. I glanced at Mommy, then at Daddy.
Their concerned expressions matched mine; we were all waiting for someone to make the next move.
After a few moments, I felt a rumble. Then, as if the floodgates opened down there, I unconsciously contracted my abs and pushed. Hard.
“I need wipes, quick!” exclaimed Daddy as I felt the pressure slowly dissipating in my stomach. While the Parents frantically wipe my bottom, I pushed again. It was so satisfying, like squeezing toothpaste.
Let’s make this more fun.
I tilt my head slightly to get a glimpse over my knees, and as if aiming with a water gun, I let out a final push.
Splat. “It’s on the wipes dispenser!” both Parents yelped this time. Aww, man, that is only a foot away. I was hoping it would hit the crib across the room. As Daddy bundled me up to get ready for a nice, warm bath, I saw the traces left behind on the changing table, clothes, and lotion bottle. My first masterpiece.
Update one month later:
I am proud to announce that I had gone up to eight days straight without having a bowel movement AND the doctor said it is normal. Finally, after five more unsuccessful opportunities to aim at the crib, the parents dropped the suppository method and gave me a few drops of prune juice every day instead. It was pretty effective, just not as fun.
An ear-piercing voice wakes me up, crackling over the world – the voice echoed far and wide like a divine being finally coming to rescue me from this confusing planet. He calls himself “the captain.” He didn’t do much except muttering about the weather and ending his presence with “thank you for flying with us.” Flying? What’s that?
Am I still stuck in this dream?
Big compartments outline the ceiling, and an endless line of strangers walk past me. I’m lying on what looks like a very long bed with pillows and blankets on each side. As a 2-month-old, my limited mobility only allowed me to turn my head slightly. A sense of relief trickled through my body when I caught a glimpse of my orange lion and Mr. Sheep. Oh, how nice it is to see you guys finally! You would not believe what happened to me earlier!
The euphoria left as quickly as it came – Where’s Mommy!?
I wail in desperation. Before I could catch my breath for another cry, Mommy swoops me up in her arms. With her usual smile, she whispers, “good morning, Izzy.” Stretching my neck past her shoulders, I see an infinite row of heads bobbing up and down as if tempting me to play Whac-A-Mole.
The “captain” reappears out of nowhere, saying to buckle up for “take off.” Take off what? Shoes? Diapers?
Speaking of diapers, I have been clenching my butt cheeks due to the ongoing stress.
As I let go, a ripple escape, and Mommy giggles. She quickly sits down and gives me my ultimate calming mechanism – the pacifier. Squish squish squish. As I suck the plastic boob, the entire world starts vibrating. It feels like we are in a car – a huge car. We are moving, and the speed is pushing us back. Mommy holds onto me a little closer. I feel my body lift – hmm, I know the pacifier usually makes me feel relax, but not like this. I suck a little harder and faster with every passing second. All the while, Mommy is pushing at my ear lobes, murmuring, “keep sucking, or else your ears will hurt.” Let me tell you that is NOT comforting. Gravity finally pulled it together after a few minutes; we are back to normal – no more rumbles, bumps, soars, and heart palpitations.
Mommy collects a couple of items from a compartment nearby – baby wipes, diaper, a changing pad, and some cream.
At least some things don’t change as I graciously accept the pampering of a diaper change.
Then she ties a blanket over her shoulders, Ooo! I know what that means. I didn’t realize it, but I was hungry. I’m still waiting for an explanation of the series of chaotic events, but food first. However, after my meal, the drowsiness hit me again. Okay fine. Sleep first.
This dream has got to stop.
Every time I wake up, I am stuck in this small, confined space with strangers, and I wake up quite often – every 2 hours. The routine is always the same – diaper change, belly time, and finally, a meal that puts me back to sleep. It is reassuring that my lion and Mr. Sheep are my soldiers protecting me the entire time; I will have to reward their loyalty when we get home. A couple of times, I played with the inhabitants of this confinement. They would walk by offering to let Mommy use the restroom or eat her food. They must be bored, so I entertained them for a few minutes.
However, I was cautious.
I watch them like an eagle securing its prey, making sure they don’t get close to my bottle – especially after the previous incident. I hope they don’t replace Daddy indefinitely, as he usually helped Mommy out. Sometimes just the thought of him abandoning us made me cry uncontrollably; I must have done something terrible. I promise (or try to) not to toot in his face anymore! Please come back. At this time, the strangers will start panicking, looking for Mommy, dropping me off like a sack of potato.
After what seemed like an eternity, I learned that we were on a plane (then ferry, bus, and taxi) to China.
It took 30 hours. For me, that’s a massive chunk of my life.
My Grandma and my Daddy switched positions – now I see my Grandma in real life and my Daddy in pictures or videos. After another “eternity,” they switched again – now Daddy in real life (at least he didn’t abandon me, and I’ll try to keep my promise!). They have GOT to stop messing with me. Why can’t they just appear both in real life instead of making me go through 60 hours of intense travel? Sheesh, adults, do I need to solve everything for them?
The lights in the bedroom turns on, waking me up. Mommy picks me up from the crib. I rub my eyes with my stubby fingers. What time is it, and who in the right mind would wake up a 2-month-old!?
“Good morning Izzy, it’s time to go to the airport,” Mommy whispers in my ears.
She places me in the car seat sitting in the middle of the room; I struggle at first, demanding a definition of the word “airport.” Instead, she gives me a warm bottle of milk – I guess that is a fair trade. Shortly after, we step out of the house and walk towards the car; a cool breeze greets us in the dark. “There shouldn’t be much traffic at 4 AM,” said Daddy as he starts the car. I slowly drift to sleep from the vibrations of the car; I like car rides.
Some rough movements wake me up again. Mommy is strapping me tightly in the baby carrier, her head looming over mine as she kisses me. This time, we are in a massive, bright building. There are tons of people walking around; none came over to say hi, how rude.
She looks at Daddy with a pleading look, “I don’t think I can go to China by myself anymore. Let’s go home.”
Daddy gently said, “let’s see what happens when you make the connection. If you don’t want to do it anymore, come home.” He gives us each a kiss and a warm, long, bear hug. Then Mommy grabs the carry-on luggage and gets in line; she turns around for one last look. I, too, glimpse at Daddy as he waves from afar, farther away than ever before. Why are we separating? Mommy whispers, “It’s okay, we’ll be okay” – is she saying that to herself?
The rest is a blur – contents in suitcases flying everywhere and beeping sounds going off occasionally.
Worst of all, people randomly taking off their shoes in public, do the guys in uniforms like to sniff sweaty feet?
“That’s my bag,” exclaims Mommy as she walks past rows of people. A tall stranger is turning my bottle upside down. I let out a loud revolting cry only to be shushed by Mommy. Well, technically, it’s her breast milk – she has the final say. I whimper as he opens the bottle.
Hey! Get your dirty hands off my chow, don’t you dare drink my portion.
He looks up as if finally understanding me, gives me a huge smile, and said, “aww, you’re so cute.” He continues to examine the liquid gold, one of them in its frozen form, and puts them through a machine. Finally, he places the two bottles back in the backpack and said, “you’re good to go.” Mommy gathers our belongings while I recollect his every move – did he switch out the milk?
Mommy rushes to the business lounge, muttering how I must be hungry being up for so long.
She closes the door to a dark, private room with a big lounge chair for breastfeeding and a changing table—finally, some peace in this chaotic dream. As I guzzle down my meal, I drift off to sleep, thinking I’ll wake up soon in my crib with both parents smiling down at me.
