The baby mutterer

It all blew up last night over a casual discussion about plans for next year. It turns out I’m not the only one i our house nurturing plans to go part time. It’s hardly suprising really, after all who wouldn’t choose to a) spend time with our delightfully cute daughter and b) have a day off work every week? If Rose was a little monster, let’s be honest now, perhaps both of us would be less keen. Who am I kidding, being part time would be fantastic. Working five days a week just doesn’t suit me, I have a complex medical condition known as ‘slacker’. Too much office work causes organ failure. We haven’t yet tackled the money question yet and that might be the decider. From my early research it looks like 5 days childcare doesn’t cost a lot more than 4 so it might really be silly for either of us to lose out on a day’s pay what with the economy collapsing and all.

We both agree that Rose will ultimately be fine regardless of whether we have an extra day in the week with her. In fact I’m fairly confident that handing her over to professionals will be great for her development. They have to tick off her achievements against the Government’s Foundation Stages after all while us unqualified amateurs mainly do emails ‘with’ her and bundle her along to the shops. Though I am enormously looking forward to the time she can run around in the playground and get scabs on her knees, ooh and do crafts with me! Potato printing, here we come!

While I was in the maternity ward waiting for Rose’s new-born jaundice to get better I thought now would be a good time to read up on how to take care of babies. I picked up a second hand copy of the Baby Whisperer and it pretty much gave me a nervous breakdown with its cautionary tales, prescriptive approach and general talkingdownto patronisingness. The kindly health visitor calmed me down and said to stop reading those books. I never got around to shredding it as I was too busy carrying Rose around, letting her sleep whenever she wanted to and generally ruining her with my incompetence. I picked up the book last night, because I was fascinated to discover, now I am a highly experienced incompetent parent, if the book retained its evil power. Of course it has lost its aura and I quite enjoyed some of her little stories about useless parents. How I chuckled at their stupidity. We even did the ‘what kind of baby do you have’ quiz together in bed this morning, and funnily enough, it turns out she’s perfect.


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