The Adventures of Baby Joseph : Part One

This past Christmas my mom decided she would buy my ever-maternal-baby-loving-daughter a unique one of a kind gift that she then did not yet have : a MALE baby doll.  Mia has about 30 little babies that she tends to regularly – changes their diapers, alternates turns sleeping with them, dresses them, bathes them and washes their hair regularly.  Apart from Kindergarten, she has another full time job of being a mom to MANY a baby.  But so far all of them have been girls.

Until there was baby Joseph.

My mom spent a LOT of time picking out the perfect baby boy for her deserving granddaughter.  I know, because amid the Christmas rush of my family and palliative practice, I had to sneak in regular trips to my iphone between patients and Christmas concerts to give my opinion on the latest “baby boy doll option”.  Eventually the very perfect, most anatomically correct and scarily lifelike baby boy doll was found, bought, and wrapped all in the span of one hypertensive patient and a pap test, and my mother has ever since had to revert to her usual day to day texts about dad’s bowel habits and funny facebook posts.

Eventually Christmas day came and the anticipation about the baby doll was palpable the minute we walked into my parents’ house.  We opened the usual suspects first- socks, underwear, clothes books and educational placemats.  And then, when my mother could stand it no more, the big looming box from behind the tree was brought forth and presented to my overtired, somewhat overwhelmed daughter.

She tore it open and then paused.

“Mia!  Wow! It’s a baby BOY!!!”  I exclaimed in a desperate attempt to spark some sort of life force back into my flaccid daughter while simultaneously trying to stop my mother from deflating.

“OH.” She said

“Yes, Mia, look!  He has a soother and diapers!!" added my mother in her own attempt at self preservation.

“Oh.” She said.

The happenings of Christmas 2015 are somewhat foggy in my memory but I believe something to the effect of this happened : Mia placated both of us by taking her new baby boy out of his packaging, wrapping him in a blanket and then putting him down in a corner to sleep before pretending to be engrossed in the wording of her new educational placemat.

I refused to even make eye contact with my mother,

“Well, of COURSE he’s tired” I said, as if this was the most normal reaction to the most very perfect-est gift ever, "Go give Grandma a hug and tell her how happy you are to have a baby boy doll.”

HINT HINT.

It wasn’t until I was putting her down to bed that night, after a long and overwhelmingly exciting Christmas day, that Mia finally confided in me the truth about her erratically out of character reaction to her new baby (BOY) doll…

“Mommy…” she whispered into the darkness, “I think I’m going to call him Baby Joseph.” She said as she cradled him in her arms.

“That’s an excellent name, Mia. “

“Mommy…” she said questioningly,

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“At first….I thought he was real….IS he real, Mommy?”

We’ve all been there – stunned into silence by the pressure of a single moment in time.  I could appreciate her innocent interpetation of years and years of us reiterating to her what a “good mommy” she was finally culminating in the awarding of a REAL baby.  Who just so happened to be…A BOY.

I got it.  I get it. 

I reassured her.

And unto us a child is born :  I present to you, Baby Joseph.