Dear sir or madame, might I hold your baby?
I have a question for people with babies. Small babies. Like, a year or younger.
You know how sometimes you’re standing at the grocery store or the coffee shop, holding your kid and trying to find your wallet, and then you drop your keys, and it seems like you don’t have enough hands . . .
What would you think if the person standing behind you offered to hold your baby?
Would that be weird?
It would, wouldn’t it? A total stranger asking to hold your baby. A total stranger with a sad, hungry glint in her eyes . . .
It’s pointless. I’m never going to get to hold a baby again.
My only hope was the kindness of strangers.
There are no babies left in my family, and my friends all have grade-schoolers. Unless I start cultivating close friendships with pregnant women — that would be weird, too, right? — I might even forget what babies smell like.
And I can’t believe that I care. I was never a baby person. Never.
In my 20s and 30s, when people would bring their new babies to work, I’d walk all the way around the newsroom to avoid them. I never knew what to say . . .
“Wow, look at her. Is it a her? Oh, him. Wow. Well. He sure is a baby, all right. Congratulations.”
If someone held a baby out to me, I’d try to back away.
“Oh, no,” I’d say. “He looks pretty comfortable.”
In those days I felt like I’d had enough baby-holding to last me four lifetimes. That’s how many younger brothers and sisters I have — four. By the time I was 13, I was so used to having a baby on my hip that people used to assume my youngest brother was mine. (Which is great for a 13-year-old’s self esteem.)
Back then, I took everything about babies for granted. Like how soft they are. How warm they are. How they curl into your arms. The way they stare up at you, like you’re fascinating . . . All I could feel was them hanging on me. Like monkey-armed parasites that always started crying whenever I tried to talk on the phone.
Having kids of my own changed all that, of course. Everything’s different with your own babies. Even if you’ve never had any interest in other people’s kids, you’re still totally charmed and amazed by your own.
Once I had my own kids, I finally got what all the baby hubbub was about. I realized that holding a baby is as close as anyone ever comes to touching perfection.
What I didn’t realize was that my sons were changing me permanently. I thought that when they outgrew their baby selves, my interest in babies would return to its previous nonexistence.
It didn’t.
If anything, I get more baby crazy as they grow up. I look at my kids and see how big they are, how fast they’re growing. My 3½ -year-old is still pretty cuddly. But holding him is more like holding a small ape or a border collie than a baby. And he’s totally lost that new-baby smell. (He kind of smells like a border collie, too.)
I look at my kids, and I love the boys they’re becoming — but I don’t want to forget what it was like to hold them in my arms.
Having another baby isn’t an option. And even it were, I don’t think it’d be smart to have a whole kid just because I miss having an infant. I keep thinking that if I could just hold somebody else’s baby, I could stock up on that feeling and move on.
It would be weird to explain all this to the ladies I see at the grocery store, right?
“Hi, you don’t know me, but I’ve got a real bad baby jones. And if I could just hold your baby for a minute, I really think it would help. Is that cool with you? I’ll let you hold my border collie.”
I wouldn’t let a stranger hold my baby.
You know, that whole ‘baby jones-ing’ thing passes. But there are some bad moments.
I saw a lady in the grocery store the other day with four kids. (I’ve got four kids) and the kids were just nuts. Crawling under her cart and grabbing stuff off the aisle and throwing it in and her putting it back and them begging and whining and she’s bouncing a crying baby on her hip and scolding and coaxing.
I wanted to go up to her and say, “I’ve got four kids, all grown, and I suspect you can’t believe it right now, but it’s sooooooo worth it.”
I was afraid she’d kill me so kept my ‘wisdom’ to myself and stayed well away from the line of fire from the flying produce.
I hear you, but then I remember this: My youngest was a cuddler up until aged 10 or so. He had a habit of snuggling next to me in the recliner when he came in from playing outdoors. And what I miss as much as anything about childrearing is bending down to kiss (and sniff) the top of his head in those moments. If sunshine has a smell, that was it, and I drank it in for eight happy years.
Perhaps there are unexpectedly lovely scents still to be enjoyed with your boys. I hope so.
I’ve let seatmates on airplanes hold my babies for me a couple of times when I needed to use the bathroom, because on an airplane where were they gonna go with them? But in the store, yeah, I’d probably appreciate the gesture but not take the person up on the offer, because, well, we’re taught to be wary of strangers. I don’t actually believe that we need to be as wary as we’re taught to be, but old habits die hard.
I’m the mom of a soon-to-be 4 month old boy and I was the same way… not at all interested in babies until having my own. Sitting here I don’t think I would let someone hold my baby in those circumstances. However if I actually faced a situation where I desperately needed help I suppose I might say yes depending on who asked.
My mother-in-law has done this before. She asked a mom at a restaurant who was trying to eat while holding her baby if she could hold the baby while they ate and the mom said yes!! I couldn’t believe she said yes!
Ahem. As the proud older sister of SEVEN kids, (none of whom would have behaved in any combination like monsters in the store!) I think I run into the opposite problem as you, Rainbow. I’ve spent so much of my life with babies on my hip, that now that I’ve moved out of the house, I miss them terribly. And I’m only 19!
My youngest sister is 2 now, and I just miss snuggling her. I substitute with other people’s children when I get the chance and absolutely revel in it.
I don’t think I’d ever ACTUALLY ask a stranger if I could hold her baby — though obviously I think about it.
Monica, I’m not surprised that your MIL got away with it. A certain kind of grandmother can get away with anything. I don’t think I’ll ever be one of those women. I’m not confident enough with strangers to just dive in.
Sarah, I wish I’d enjoyed the big sister role more. I’m close to my brothers and sisters, and I feel especially tender toward the two youngest because I helped raise them. But I was the world’s most reluctant babysitter. I just hated it.
Mary — Easy for you to say it passes! You have grandbaby access!
Bethany, when I went to New York last year with just my 2 year old, I asked our seatmate if she would watch him while I used the bathroom. I thought the same thing — “Where is she going to go with him?” She looked hesitant. But when I came back, she couldn’t say enough about what a sweetheart he was. I do think we’re too wary. This is a different subject, but I don’t want my kids to grow up afraid of everyone they haven’t met.
It also helps to remember that the TRUTH about babies is, they’re the closest thing to slave labor that exists in America.
Sure the little tyke doesn’t actually lay a whip across your back, but in their own diaper-y way, they make you do WHAT they want you to do WHEN they want you to do it and they PUNISH YOU (what else would you call all that crying???) until you obey.
I actually had that happen to me once. A woman in a restaurant offered to hold my baby while I was eating. I didn’t take her up on her offer, but I didn’t think she was crazy, either.
Mary, you’re right. My first son nearly broke me in half. The lack of sleep was just torture. For the first 18 months, he never slept more than two hours at once.
Kathy (and Monica), I can remember strangers asking to hold my babies. I almost always said, “That’s OK, thanks.” But I don’t think I thought they were crazy. (Unless they were obviously crazy.)
I was always very generous with friends and family, as far as letting them hold my babies. My kids would go to other people, and I was usually grateful for a break and an opportunity to use both hands.
As the divorced father of three girls age 12, 10, and 7, I really miss when they were sweet, innocent little babies. That being said, I have no desire at all to touch, hold, smell, or otherwise go near other peoples babies. Maybe its a guy thing, but my ex’s family is popping out babies at an alarming pace, and every time I find myself over there for a family function, someone is always trying to get me to hold a baby. Uh-oh. No way!
I had the opposite thing happen to me. I was working at a bridal shop at the time and I was obviously very pregnant. I had a whole bridal party I was trying to help, mothers and all. I ended up chatting with the mom of the bride, and it came out that I was pregnant with twins…and they were my surrogate babies, not mine. She was so touched that I was a surrogate mother that she immediately handed me her granddaughter…a tiny little baby!!! I don’t know if she was hoping some of my “unselfishness” would somehow seep into her or what…but that was the first (and only) time a stranger ever handed me a baby without me asking! (And yes, it did help quelch some of my own “Awwww! A baby for me to hold!!!!” feelings…temporarily. Until the twins started fighting lol)
(And if I could get away with it somehow, I’d hold every baby I see…there’s just something about babies!)
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