Baby Decree #1 and 2

Tags:shopping.

Baby Decree #1: Expect the unexpected.

Baby Decree #2: Infants who, through no fault of their own, can only manage the occasional “Gah!” and “Coo!” are entitled to on-demand attention, especially when they start to cry in the most inconvenient of places. Parents are expected to drop everything–EVERYTHING, and check if the infant is either hungry, wet, and/or uncomfortable. In such instance, immediate action is required to either sate hunger, get them in dry clothes and diapers, and make them happy/agreeable/comfortable.

He was fine most of the time. We went to Jersey City and Ivan got a haircut while I had my eyebrows and lips waxed, then we bought dinner. He was happy all the way home in the car and at our final stop, mother and I were confident enough to leave Patrick in the car with the men (Ivan and my brother). We bought our groceries as fast as possible (a.k.a. 30 minutes) and got the hell out, only to realize that Ivan, the car, and everyone else in it, were gone.  Just gone. Not a trace.  I checked my bag and realized that I had left my cellphone at home, which sucked royally. I figured they might have gone around to get the baby to calm down, but then my mother had to go insane and suggest the worse possibilities: Maybe something happened; maybe Ivan had to rush off; maybe something had gone wrong and he had to leave; Ivan would never leave without a good reason.

 My mother is contagious.

We’d been waiting a good long time and I finally gave in to my mother-induced anxieties. I called up the house through a PAYPHONE (God, I hadn’t used those things in such a long time) in case Ivan just went home for whatever reason. No one was answering, which naturally had me worried as hell. I called up my sister-in-law, contacting her through her landline–thank God she was home–so she could use her cellphone to contact Ivan on his cell phone. She managed to get him on her second try. She said Ivan, the baby, and my brother are on their way back. Worry done. Perplexity begins.

Apparently, Patrick had cried so much, not responding to the soothing motion of the car nor a bottle of milk, that his father felt sorry/panicked for him. Ivan decided to drive home to change his diaper. He only realized I didn’t have my phone when he called and he heard it ringing somewhere down the hallway.

Interesting. Personally, I would’ve brought him down from the car and changed him in the grocery bathroom, but I guess the house wasn’t that far away… ah, well. As long as nothing was really wrong.