Monday, April 03, 2006

Date of Birth

Jim The Baby Nephew turns two today, which makes him no longer Jim The Baby Nephew. He's in a big-boy chair at the table now, and says "Thank you!", and can renegotiate his parents' property tax. He is now, therefore, Jim The Small Child Nephew.

During his birth, we passed the time by packing into the maternity ward waiting room, not eating meat, for Julie The NephewMama went into labor on the last Friday of Lent. I still have the receipt for the calzone and cheese pizzas, not to mention the barfy feeling that comes with overexcitement combined with a calzone and cheese pizza. Jim's paternal grandmother and I kept sneaking outside the labor room to hear what was happeneing, and what has happening was my sister was exhaling very loudly while her husband said, "Push!" I ran away, because it sounded like uncomfortable things were happening in there, and even though the door was mostly closed I think I was afraid the placenta would come sailing into the hallway or something, because... physics is physics, you know?

When I saw my nephew at last, his father was holding him and discussing which round he would go in for the 2025 NHL draft, and when his mother held him she swayed with him, not back and forth in her arms like they do in Disney cartoons, but with her whole body. He has progressed from his two settings of Sleeping and Very Angry since I placed a palm branch as long as he was in his basinette, which I suppose is the natural order of things, but in a way I miss when The Prince would stay put, and not run about shrieking when Aunt Beth needs a hug.

Then again, he and I had a deeply bonding conversation today, nearly fifteen percent of which I actually understood. There is a reason why at times his father will respond to his incomprehensible pronouncements with, "James... I don't believe you. You're making that up."

He burst into tears at his own party when everyone sang "Happy Birthday," which really shouldn't be happening for at least 38 more years, but then he was always ahead of expectations. I sent him a huge inflatable ball with which to bounce and make noise and destroy things. I'm his godmother. That's my job.

I also sent him a card approximately as big as he is, because I couldn't afford to fly home for his party and thus have aunt guilt at: mb@blondechampagne.com

12 comments:

Miasys said...

Happy Birthday, Jim! My son has an Auntie Godmother that spoils him rotten too. It's in the job description, somewhere. Just wait, because in ten short years you'll officially enter your "manship", as my son calls it now. MB- I'm so sorry you had to miss the party- that really sucks. There's not much I can say to make you feel better about that. I've been there too, and it blows.

kelebek }{ said...

Happy Birthday Jim. When you are done with your parents tax returns come here and check out how famous you are!

Dantelope said...

I cannot contain my anticipation for the upcoming series of Jim the Young Child Nephew articles in which MB describes -- in great detail -- the inevitable disintegration of respect that Jim shows his adult family as he discovers independence, learns to box, finds out how hard he can push his parents before something bad happens, and generally educates himself on new words which will require Auntie MB to go cross-eyed in horror.

Ahhhhhhh, bring it.

MB said...

Thanks for the condolences, gena. I saw the following painted on the wall of a local bar (you can see where I find my wisdom): "Paradise comes at a pretty high price." I'm very happy in my job right now, and like where I live. But the price I have to pay for that is missing nephew's birthday parties.

Upshot: Life kinda sucks sometimes.

Nicko McDave said...

You were worried about the placenta sailing into the hallway? What about the baby attached to it? It would be like the old Bugs Bunny cartoon where a baseball player hit a "screaming liner" into the outfield.

Also, seeing as how you brought up Disney movies, I feel obliged to mention that, after seeing the picture of newborn Jim in your arms, I now have the song "What Made the Red Man Red" from Peter Pan stuck in my head, so thanks for that.

thatsnutty said...

Happy Birthday Jim! I hope its sunny and warm on your special day. You are offically now a man-cub blog star instead of baby blog star!

Also, doesn't MB look almost brown in that bottom picture! I am envious of the fantastic tan!

red pill junkie said...

FELIZ CUMPLEAƑOS JAIMITO!! :-)

MB you should not wait any more time to amass a huge collection of photos of Jim in really embarrassing situations (naked in the tub for example), which you could later use to bribe him when he grows up and has a girlfriend ;-)

thebuxomwench said...

Oooh, what a cute cuddly little wombat he is :). I'm so sorry you're missing the party, I've been there too and the suckage quotient is indeed high :(.

My nephew, Brett, is now 15 which makes my brain-fart and stop and say: "Does not compute". Seems like just yesterday that Brett was four years old and, after a very nasty tumkin bug, sitting there saying to me, brows furrowed with genuine concern, "Aunty Heather, don't you just hate it when you have diarrhoea and you sit there and sit there and sit there and push and push but you just can't get that last little bit of poop out no matter how hard you try?" I miss such innocently disgusting utterings of his childhood so :).

The upshot, of course, is that I remember all such things for future and potentially embarrassing - for him ;) - reference.

I hope he has a wonderful day - bet they'll all be missing you lots, too x.

amy lou the reader said...

Someone at work brought her six-week old daughter in for a visit today. She was perfect.

Babies are everywhere. I want to be a mom, because I know it's gonna be eons before I become an aunt - seeing as my brother's more into baseball and videogames at 21 than he is into dating.

MB said...

"Also, doesn't MB look almost brown in that bottom picture!"

Dude. DUDE! Congratulations on being the first person EVER to use that adjective in connection with me.

It's amazing, I guess, what a year out of a soulsucking job will do for your complexion.

thebuxomwench said...

I do so wish I hadn't inadvertantly added the hyphen to "brain fart", thus rendering it "brain-fart" and suggesting it is a - in a kind of, "oh, don't mind that, it's just my brain-fart" - permanent appendage.

I'm studying CVA's and, quite frankly, it would seem I am having one of my very own ;).

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