Masking Tape Messages

I decided that bebe needed some interaction with other little people so I signed up for a MOPS group. For the uninitiated, it stands for Mothers of Pre-Schoolers. No, not people who are actually in pre-school but Moms of Little People From Birth to Whenever Their Moms Get Tired of This Activity (however, MOLPFBTWTMGTOTA is, apparently, not as catchy as MOPS).



So far, it has been fine (granted, I have only been twice but still... if one of the women in my small group looking like Ellen Barkin was not enough to drive me straight to the plastic surgeon, I imagine that I will stick with it). Besides, I was a little nervous about the Jesus factor (please don't try and convert me, I already have all the door-to-door religions knocking every week) but it really is fine.


I am hoping to meet a couple of mothers with babies who live locally and who 1) know what I am going through and 2) know more about mothering than I do (not that this is hard to accomplish since I know next to nothing). I am an expert baby shopper but I know diddley about pre-school programs and flashcards. Really, flashcards? Am I supposed to be doing that with him? Crap, why didn't someone tell me?


So when you drop your baby off at the nursery, they pepper you with questions none of which do I have a pleasing answer to.


"When does he eat?"

"When he is hungry."


"Will he nap?"

"If he is tired."


I mean, really, he is a baby not a German train. For only brief periods of time in your life does one not have a calendar, anxiety about calories/cholesterol and an over-scheduled life, so why not let him enjoy that and sleep when he flippin' wants to? Clearly, I am in the minority on this one. The other moms have set schedules, long lists of allergies and prohibited foods and strict directions on diapering requirements. Welcome to the age of high-anxiety parenting.

The first time I dropped him off we went through the aforementioned questions and then they asked "Any other requests you have for us while he is here?" I felt so pressured to say something, anything after hearing all these constraints and demands that the other moms had. And sadly, this is what I come up with "Uhh, don't drop him on his head?" Yep, I am sure that one went in my permanent record.


So, when I go to pick him up, there is High Anxiety Momma (I think I will start abbreviating this to HAM and see if it catches on) in front of me. You know the type, diaper bag the size of a golf bag, a totally tricked out, weighted down stroller, a car seat and a snuggley thing.... seriously, the parking lot is a three minute walk and you need this much stuff? Do you not have working limbs?


They handover her baby who is adorable but also past chubby (I know, I know once he starts walking he will slim down. Trust me, this is not said in judgment this kid is so, so cute). The baby looks like he is wearing a fat suit. Five chins, looks like he has rubber bands on his legs and arms, the full monty. Totally want to squeeze him, he is that cute (and I have high standards for adorable).


This is a baby who has not missed a meal. However, his HAM has decided to leave messages on him for the nursery people. She has MASKING TAPED his front and back with the following message "NO SNACKS."


To see a pudgy baby with "No Snacks" taped to both the front and back of his shirt... well, I about wet my pants laughing. That is classic.