The last post about babies loving John has got me thinking: BABIES HATE ME.
Here I am with my cousin Lindsay’s baby girl Karis. Do you like the look of utter panic on her face? Yeah. She’s pretty much saying "HAND ME TO THAT MAN ON YOUR LEFT OR I WILL DIE!" People, this is not an unhappy or unfriendly child. Hand her to my mother and the child squeals with glee. Bounce her on my sister’s lap and you’ve got a bubbly, giggly child. Put her in Johnny’s magic arms, and well, you know. Moments later poor Lindsay reassured me "oh she’s just tired" as she folded her suddenly-miraculously-quiet-and-calm daughter back into her car seat a safe distance from my scary, scary face.
A similar situation happened when I first met Nate and Kara’s daughter Natalie (who is now 4). She was a few months old and DARLING and I couldn’t help getting up in her face and saying coo-chee-coo and you’d of thought I’d pinched her the way she screwed up her face and WAILED FOR MERCY. In fact, I think I scarred her for life because she still pretty much hides behind someone’s legs whenever she sees me coming (or it could be that when I’m home visiting I’m usually with my sister who has accidentally knocked down several toddlers at my mom’s church, whoops).
Now I know my best friend Lily is probably reading this and she’ll try to respond with "But Manda, Isabella LOVES YOU!" Lest we forget, Lily, that took about 6 months. Remember this? She was already pissed when you made her take a picture whilst IN MY ARMS OH MY LORDY THE INSANITY OF IT IS TOO MUCH TO TAKE:
"Sheesh Manda quit pinching kids and sticking them with pins while Mama’s not looking and they MIGHT start liking you," so you say? I wish that was why they find me utterly unbearable. Then at least I’d have an identifiable excuse. This getting kids to like me thing is WORK. Do you know what it took to get me here:
Good thing the Baby Whisperer is on my team, eh?