Mama knows best...or does she?

I am the type of person that thinks they are right all the time. About 90% of the time I am totally in the wrong, but it takes a lot for me to admit it. Call it foolish pride. When it comes to my baby, I think I know best...or like to think I know best, because I have been with her for almost every second of her life, save a few hours here and there when she is with daddy or my parents are in town and Mama and daddy get to have a date night (not often enough).


When my husband has her, and she is screaming at the top of her lungs, I of course jump to the conclusion that he has just been sitting there ignoring her cries.

"Did you try and burp her?"
"Of course, honey."
"Did you change her diaper?"
"Just did, honey"
"Did you feed her sitting upright?"
"Yes, I have done this before, honey."
"Did you keep her upright after eating?"
"This is not the first time I have done this, HONEY."
"How about walking around the room with her?"
"I just did that for 20 minutes..."
"Then give her to me"


I seem to think that I have the magic touch (and sometimes I actually do), but more often than not I can't do anything that daddy can't do, and peanut continues to be Fussy Pants McGee.


Rewind to the Monday after Easter weekend...
Location: Newport, RI...scene: Exterior of the Marble House Mansion. Characters: A mid-30s mixed race couple, Mama still holding on to "baby weight" has young baby on her chest in a Moby Wrap, dad is freakishly tall. They are joined by a woman in her mid-50s, who seems off the plane from Palm Beach and looks 10 years younger than she actually is (my mother :), and bears a striking resemblance to the aforementioned Mama with baby (but with a healthy glow). Also in tow is Mama's hipster brother in skinny jeans (another freakishly tall character) and hipster girlfriend in all black.


Baby was awakened from nap to be put in Moby Wrap. Baby starts to fuss as they enter the mansion. Due to the early morning arrival, the group of 5 1/2 are the only patrons in the entire home. Fussy baby becomes a crying baby. Key word: MARBLE [house]. Babies cries much louder than normal...MUCH louder. Mama shushes, sways, bounces, pats, swings and repeats, while trying to listen to her audio guide and continue on the tour. Baby is not buying it. Daddy takes a turn. Baby not buying what they are selling. Mama's turn again.


Mama is approached by woman that works there. "You know you can leave and come back later." Mom knows, but that isn't happening, "she will be fine, she is just tired."


"Are you sure she isn't hungry?" Marble House lady says. "No, she just ate two hours ago, she isn't hungry."


"Would you like me to show you the bathroom where you can take her to change her diaper?" says the Marble House lady. "I know where the bathroom is, thank you. And her diaper doesn't need to be changed"


"I think she might be hungry."


"Well, she isn't."


After 5 more minutes of making a scene, Mama exits with baby. Still crying. Diaper change (diaper was wet). Still crying. Walk around outside with baby out of Moby. Still crying. An exhausted Mama sits under a tree and as a last resort fixes a bottle. Bottle is inserted in babies mouth. Baby is finally happy. Mama's face turns red and hopes that Marble House lady can't see her where she is sitting.


I still don't think she was hungry...I think she just doesn't like Marble houses.