Why Women my age should NOT have babies

I have read about women a bit younger than myself who go through extraordinary measures to have babies. Personally, I think they either must have tons of money to hire a nanny, a big family to help them, or they are just plain crazy. After one afternoon with a 24 lb 10 month old, I am convinced that there are reasons that younger women should have the babies.

I am a type A personality. I can multitask, work full time, run a few businesses, show art, garden, socialize etc., but only a few hours with a baby nearly put me under the ground.

I picked up Randy from his other grandfather.
I had to take the Honda today as I would have NEVER fit anything in my Eos.
I loaded:
1 pack and play
1 portable high chair
1 walker
1 box of baby food
1 large diaper bag
1 large backpack full of clothes
1 misc. bag.
I car seat
1 24 lb baby.

When I got home I left the baby in the car as he was temporarily smiling and took all of the above into the house and up one flight of stairs.

I ran out of steam and laid down on the driveway before I could summon the energy to carry said baby into the house.

I tried to put him into the walker, but he put up a fight, so I put him down on the floor of the living room and played blocks with him while preventing him from eating the little balls of cat hair and ants that were marching past him.

When he got bored, I managed to put him in the walker and gave him little snacks to hold him while I prepared his dinner. In a short time he threw said snacks all over the floor (which meant more ants) and I quickly started feeding him the real food.

After he was done he started screaming, so I got him a bottle, and summoned all my energy to sling him on my hip to go up the flight of stairs.

Then there was the diaper change which made him REALLY MAD and he proceeded to try and rip off the new diaper.

I got his head stuck in his shirt while trying to get it off which made him scream even louder. I finally freed his head, which is 4 times the size of the opening on the shirt, and put his jammies on.

He was tired, as his eyes were purple and rolling in the back of his head, so I put him down with the bottle which he promptly finished and then screamed his head off. I quickly made a few more ounces, which when given to him, would have been thrown directly between my eyes if his aim was better.

I tried to rock him, I tired to sing to him, I tried to stroke him, which only made him madder, sweatier, and scream louder. His window faces the house with the dog, and I hoped that they heard every bit of it, especially since one of the teenage girls is pregnant.

I left him to cry his head off as there was nothing else I could do, but not before taking his photo to blackmail him with when he is older.

After 15 minutes of screaming, blubbering, and sobbing, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

I promptly made myself a vodka and tonic and slid down into a chair, wondering how I EVER did it with 2 kids by myself.

I am waiting for the 4 year old to arrive - an age which is much easier to handle, even when she accidentally poops in her pants while on the playground which I discover as she climbs into the EOS.

Soon Megan and Dole will be back, and I will collapse into my bed, hug my pillow, and be GLAD that I am grandma, not mama!

Patti O Grandmother