You Can't Be Stressed Around a Baby

While home for the holidays, I did a little reminiscing with one of my aunts.

When I was in grad school, I spent every Tuesday afternoon at her house, holding her babies. My cousins. Three of them. You see, the twins were born in November, and they already had the lovely Hailey, who at that point was around 16 months old (if I’ve done my math correctly). Let’s just say that she was also a baby – just not the newborn variety.

As you can imagine, their household was a little insane, and needed a little assistance.

And so I became the Tuesday Girl.

Every Tuesday afternoon I spent approximately 4 hours at their house – I held, fed, changed diapers, fed, rocked-to-sleep, changed diapers, and occasionally entertained, 3 very small girls.

It was great. And exhausting. And perfect for a grad student in housing.

You see, grad school is stressful. It’s especially stressful if you also have an assistantship in residence life – it feels like a full time job, while also going to school full time, and trying to figure out how to supervise staff and appropriately manage a crisis and hold students accountable. Really great stuff – but stressful to try and balance it all and pay for school and figure out “what’s next” in life. So . . . yeah. .. . it was stressful.

But I had my secret weapons: Avery, Anna and Hailey.

Why, you ask?

Because you can’t be stressed when you’re holding a baby. They’re smart. Like dogs, they can sense how you’re feeling. And if you’re stressed? Then they’re stressed. And then they quickly become miserable. And when they’re miserable? They cry. And since you probably don’t want to join in (especially when there are additional small beings that might join in on the crying), you want to console them. And while you’re consoling the baby, it helps you console yourself. Or at least pull yourself out of whatever cohort-ridden drama you’ve found yourself part of, and stop thinking about that next thesis chapter you have to write, or how you’re going to fit in four classes and a practicum alongside your assistantship next semester.

All you have to focus on is holding a baby. Maybe trying to make her smile, or giggle, or calm herself because you awakened her for her afternoon snack. It’s not about you. It’s about the baby.

I was reminded of this when I saw the girls for Hanukkah. They are now 11 and 12 – and the oldest might now officially be taller than me (I’m not sure what I find more unacceptable – her extra 2 inches or the “bye shorty” valediction I received from her. Probably the latter). Anyway . . . my aunt and I reminisced about the days of jotting down every bodily function, memorizing the book “Moo, Ba, La la la” and ‘the Anna dance.’ Those were the days! Though, I do enjoy talking books with them or taking them down in a game of Uno or Who Gnu!

After that visit home, I got to meet Baby G, my bestie’s firstborn.

He.Is.Adorable. Clearly - look at that face!!!

Many of her siblings and their families were present, so I tried to be kind, and not steal or monopolize the baby. Though, I might have once (or twice) said “I think your brother-in-law is hogging the baby.”

[He WAS!!!]

But who could blame him? G is gorgeous and smells amazing and . . . you can’t be stressed when you’re holding a baby! And so I backed down and tried to focus on other things. But it was a good reminder that perhaps I need to volunteer at the hospital to hold babies. It might be a really healthy way to get some stress to disappear.

Come on . . . you know you’d wanna hold this adorable nugget!

I recommend you find someone in your life with a little one [asking a stranger is REALLY awkward, and probably a really bad idea], and volunteer to babysit. Chances are high the parents might need a night out together, and you can get some de-stressing in.

** Side note: I might have spent more time trying to google 'antonym of salutation' to figure out what to call Hailey's farewell statement. What the heck? I've shared the great blog I found along with the appropriate word: valediction. You learn something new every day . . .