I’m not stupid. I know everyone is all “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” when I tell them what a good baby Evie is. I don’t know if it even matters, but there are other babies out there, and most of them are good babies. I know — NEWS FLASH. But, y’all, Evie is, like, the definitive good baby. She is SO easygoing, laid back and, yes, even accomodating. She only ever cries when she’s hungry, tired or needs to be changed. And, actually, she’ll usually hang with you until way after her bedtime and sit around in a wet diaper ’cause she doesn’t want you to have to get up. What I’m trying to say is that my babygirl, she is chill.
In fact, to prove it, I have had verification of this from the following people within the last week, in no particular order:
1. Her Granny, who grows the most delicious green beans ever and who Evie thinks is hilarious.
2. Her Pop, who has gained back all the weight he’s lost in pounds of PRIDE.
3. Her Bunny, who doesn’t mind spitup and drool on her brand new comforter. Right?
4. Her Mimi, who would swallow Evie whole if she could.
5. Her Big, who is Evie’s best nap buddy.
6. All the nursery helpers at church on Sunday. I left her, halfheartedly, in their care for an hour. According to them, Evie finished the bottle I had started giving her, gazed in mild alarm at a screaming two-year-old and promptly fell asleep for the rest of the hour in her carseat. EASY baby, people.
7. Her daycare provider’s daughter, who described Evie as a “calm” baby. That’s our girl: calm. You can always expect her to be levelheaded in a crisis.
8. Her daycare provider, whom the angels sent to us. More on that later.
As if that wasn’t enough, I have further proof. You’re not going to believe this, but it’s true.
Okay, so, we went to Concord this weekend for Pop’s birthday. I was packing her little gotoseepop bag and realized that I was almost out of diapers. At that time, Evie was sporting Costco’s latest Kirkland-style diaper in size 1-2, which best flatter her shape. There was little time to pick up more of these, and I had some size 2’s on hand. I packed 10 of those in her diaper bag and hoped for the best. After all, they sell diapers in Concord, right?
So, I had Evie’s little red gotoseepop bag, her diaper bag, my bag, my nursing pillow, Gill’s bag, the garment bag, this bag, that bag, the other bag. When I got home from work on Friday, I went straight into OUR bedroom and brought all of the bags in THERE down to be loaded into the car. Evie’s little red gotoseepop bag was in HER bedroom. You see where this is going.
The little red gotoseepop bag stayed home this weekend, along with the Costco Kirkland-style size 1-2 diapers that flatter her shape so well. I guess maybe it finished a novel and did some housework it’d been meaning to get to. What I had was a diaper bag full of Pampers Swaddlers size 2 diapers that looked suspicious and possibly ill-fitting.
Now, I want to stress to you that the Costco Kirkland-style size 1-2 diapers and their flattering selves fit Eve PERFECTLY on Friday before we left Garner. You must understand this, otherwise “nothing wonderful can come from the story I will relate.” (Only for you would I bust out the Dickens.)
Anyway, when faced with the knowledge that her mama had left behind the diapers that fit her, Evie promptly GREW OUT OF THEM and into the diapers her mama did have. I am not joking. The Costco Kirkland-style size 1-2 diapers of previously perfectly-flattering fame now barely fit her, and the Pampers Swaddlers size 2 sketchy-looking diapers have now redeemed themselves and reside around her bottom. This all happened within the time it took to drive from Garner to Concord. You heard it here, folks. Like I said, Evie is an EASY baby.
Also, as an added benefit, these Pampers diapers smell like the Pampers Swaddlers newborn-sized diapers we put Evie in when we first brought her home from the hospital. So, everytime I change her, I get a whiff of nostalgia. I smell the wee barren she used to be, all red-skinned, shut-eyed and sleepy. I inhale the excitement of bringing her home, all the family and friends and just looking at her for hours and hours.
I also smell the night sweats and sagging skin, the bleary-eyed feedings and teary-eyed Google searches and, oh yeah, the constant fear that something would happen to her. In other words, I smell what used to be and how far we’ve come.
So, thanks, Pampers. And thanks, Evie. I don’t know where you got your little laidback attitude, and I’m not sure I deserve you after all the junk food I ate while I was pregnant, but I love you. Keep on taking it easy, baby. We’re all learning from you.