Uncle Uncle

This past Saturday, I was given an important task, one I've never performed before: babysit my 15-month old nephew, by myself. No big deal - I'm bigger than him. Never mind that he can only communicate by pointing at things and shaking his head. And he just switched to cloth diapers.

To prep myself, I also accomplished a combination of things the night before that I have also never, ever done: limited my drinking to "no chance of a hangover" status, and cut the night short, being the first one out of the bar at 12:15 AM. I don't think there has ever been a more impressive show of uncle responsibility than this guy.

Come 9 AM Saturday morning, I was given a tour of the baby room, taught how to affix a cloth diaper, and how to dispose of what ends up in the cloth diaper. I learned how to pack a diaper bag, and how to fold and unfold a stroller. I had numbers for his doctor, poison control, and a flowchart for baby CPR. And grandpa, my back up, was on standby in his pajamas and newspaper. I was armed and ready.

After a rousing game of hide and seek, at least one of us was certainly tired out and ready for a nap. I don't think it needs to be said that it was undoubtedly me. The little guy's been up since 6 AM, and it was now 10 AM, and he was due for some sleepy time. Unfortunately, since he can't tell time yet, I don't think he was ready at all to go to sleep. After about twenty minutes of crying (him, not me), I gave up and passed him onto Grandpa. After another ten minutes, his eyes were slowly drooping, and some last-effort wails were sighed out of his drooling mouth. And he was asleep. When Grandpa tried to lay him down in his bed though, he was back awake and wouldn't stop crying until Grandpa gave up too. And now he's awake, and all hopes of a nap for slightly hungover Uncle were now down the toilet with the remains of the last cloth diaper.

The rest of the day was all giggles for him, and me dozing off on his bed, on the park bench, and in the car. As my babysitting shift ended, I, wifey, and the little guy and his parents rode in the Jeep back to their home from dinner. That's when the crying started. Visualize at this moment, this twenty pound bubble of a baby, buckled up in his car seat, giant cheeks and big eyes all wet from drool and tears, bawling and wailing, with his arms outstretched towards you grasping at air, as if you were the only person in the entire world who could save him from the clutch of his child seat. The last time I saw something that sad was this Disney movie.

Sunday morning, my legs are buttocks were sore from all the squatting I did the day before picking up and putting down a squirming, giggling twenty one pound baby - twenty pounds of baby, and a pound of cloth diaper. (If I wasn't so sore, I might have been blogging about my jaunt in the NYC Marathon. Might have.)