Stuff

When I was in high school, I had a teacher who hated the word "stuff." She said it was a nondescript term, like "weird". She required that I describe objects in more detail. I have no detail to offer, however, for the amount of STUFF I carry around for Brynna. She's a small person. She weighs 18 lbs. She can't walk or talk. She has little hair and no teeth. Yet when we leave the house, I have to pack the car like we are going on a 3 day road trip with no access to stores, technology or indoor plumbing.

As we do every Thursday, last night we went to church. On these nights, she's not home and in bed by her usual 8:00, so I have tried several different tactics to make things as easy as possible both for her and her caregivers. Last night I thought I'd figured out the end-all solution. I asked the girls to feed her at the normal time and put her to bed in a room down the hall. My plan was to put her down as though she were home and then just transport her when it was time to go.

I packed this girl like she was going on a weekend camping trip! I brought all kinds of stuff - her dinner, bottle, pajamas, blankets, the positioner she lays on so it'd feel like her bed...I even brought her monitor so they could keep an eye on her but not have to leave the other kids. And this is where the plan went south. Brynna did fine. There were a few interruptions that made the plan work less than perfectly, but all-in-all, it was fine. The problem was picking her up - more specifically, picking up all her STUFF.

When the program ends, I have duties to help clean up, but Daddy doesn't. And keeping him from his baby girl for more than a few minutes is like watching the torture of a defenseless animal. You just want the sadness to end. So by the time I get to the nursery, he's usually covering her in kisses, headed for the door. At this point, I begin grabbing anything I see that might belong to us and running after them out the door. He literally is thinking only about getting home to snuggle with her. As I posted a few weeks ago, he once got home without the diaper bag or my wallet! Last night, the crazy was magnified because I brought so much darn STUFF! I was pushing the stroller down the hall as the girls threw in blankets, bottles and bowls. I am an obsessively-organized person at times and I got home not knowing up from down. As I unpacked, I soon learned we had all the random pieces of the monitor except for the camera. (Kind of important to the function of the device. Doesn't matter if you have a monitor if there's nothing to look at.)

All this because my tiny little girl can't leave the house without a barrage of STUFF. Bottles and snacks in case of hunger. Burp cloths and wipes in case of spit up. Aubie in case of meltdown; diapers in case of...you get the point. I apologize to my high school English teacher and to the students I later wouldn't allow to use the word "stuff" in papers. I have no other word. When babies are involved, they just have a lot of STUFF!