There was a real, live baby in our house last night. Outside of the womb, I mean. And Keith and I were in charge of it.
For whatever reason, I never babysat much as a kid. Yet I never really doubted that I wanted to have children. I have worked in educational settings, and I know I enjoy children. Children of a certain age, that are old enough to blow their own noses and use the toilet and say amusing things. I don't really have any experience with babies or infants.
But last night, Keith and I babysat my boss's six-month old daughter for a few hours, while she and her husband went to a dinner. She had assured me that her daughter was the perfect "starter baby"—a happy, easygoing child. And it was only for a few hours, right?
And it did go okay. There was a bit of fussing, because Keith and I were too slow on the feeding part of the evening. There were a few gorgeous smiles during playtime, and then a lot of adorable sleeping. It seemed strange, only in that it felt very natural.
It helped that we had already dropped Beckett off at my parents' house for the weekend, so our house was much quieter. It didn't help that, once the baby ate and fell asleep, someone looking for petition signatures rang the doorbell. Rang the doorbell at 9 o'clock! What ridiculous behavior.
I think it was a good introductory experience. I just can't believe how tired I am today. It was a long day yesterday before the baby arrived, but even so .... I need a nap!