The Baby Group vs The Baby Group

My charge, King William (whose mother is off with wild sheep in the Outback) is less than two weeks away from turning 7 months old.  7 months old.  Have I really been watching this kid for that long?  And where is his damn mother?  Every day I wait for her to step out of cab and ring the doorbell and say, “Here I am!”  And yet 4 AM rolls around and I’m up with William in the dark, no mother, no cab, no nothing.  What gets me through it all is my baby group – talking to other women who have bags under their eyes, dirty hair, and an expression of shell-shocked confusion on their faces.  These are my people.

There are several different Baby Groups in Los Angeles that run the gamut from the freebies to the full-money-down-mortgage-your-house groups that you need an introduction to get into.  I have tried them all and find myself most happy in a group where I learn almost nothing, but leave feeling as if I’m doing a great job at being a mom.  The fancy group did teach me everything I still know so far, but I left each class in a tizzy.  Why wasn’t King William sleeping through the night?  Why wasn’t I staying home all day to make baby food?  And why, dear God why wasn’t I hiring instructors to come lecture me about preschool, letting him “cry it out,” and educational play?  I was a failure and a slacker and my kid (who is not even really my kid) was going to end up never running a Fortune 500 company.

After I was ostracized from the future leaders of our world group, I found that I could breath again.  So maybe William isn’t “supposed” to roll on top of the dog or lick the hardwood floors, but he seems to like it and I can’t say I really mind.  I feel good and you know what they say, happy pseudo-mommy = happy baby.  Bust seriously, where is his mother??


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