And The Winner is.....

We went to a "Making Way For Baby" party yesterday.
A really lovely version of a baby shower without the emphasis on gifts. Each guest made a hand print on fabric to be made into a quilt for the baby. We tied wishes and blessings to a tree - it was beautiful.

Trying to get my baby to provide a viable hand print was very entertaining. Especially when the 'paint' was actually permanent fabric dye. The poor baby, who had only an hour earlier been gussied up for the party, was stripped to her diaper to participate.
The end result was super cute though so the the child abuse was justified.

Most people there were parents, so in true parent style, we talked about our kids.
The fact that a labor and delivery is imminent inspired the moms to share their birth stories. Always a delight for a pregnant woman! The stories were so varied in length, trauma or ease. It got me thinking about how much we go through to have kids.

Having two successful pregnancies was a ten year marathon for me and many others had similar experiences to share. Then there's the births. Evidence that God must be a man. My first daughter's birth was so long, scary and eventually medieval - I needed therapy to deal with it. The second was fast and made me feel strong and euphoric but still involved a level of pain that's just not funny. I, certainly, was not amused.

Once you get through that little adventure - there's the next 18 years to look forward to. I watched the adults trying (hoping) to have a conversation, a glass of wine, a seat. I saw them juggling babies on hips, chasing them away from the cake, trying to get them to eat, nap or change. It's endless and exhausting.

We compared sleeplessness stories. Height, weight and development worries and triumphs.
Accident and injury woes. Food battles.
It got me thinking that really we parents need some incentive.
Sure, the heart popping love is reward enough but a little trophy or some cash always brightens the day. I think we need the parent Olympics or Oscars.

Think how much more fun it would be to get your fruit and vegetable quota in baby for the day if there was an award, a pretty outfit and an acceptance speech to look forward to.

"I'd like to thank ketchup and ranch dressing....."

I'd like to stand on a podium, with a ribbon and medal round my neck, watching the Scottish flag wave in the breeze and singing my national anthem. Taking the Gold for completing seven loads of laundry in one day would feel really good.

In the meantime I'll settle for a sticky hug, a lovingly drawn picture and a gummy kiss but I'll hold out hope for my image on a Wheaties box...