Bonding with your baby

‘I’m not stopping. I’m just dropping in some essentials for you and the baby’, Fiona peeks in the hall door and passes me a heavy carrier bag. Her very cute little daughter, Megan clings to her legs and peeks up at me shyly.

‘Come on in. I’m just putting the kettle on. And what can I get for you missy?’ I crouch down to her level and try to make eye contact. She smiles sweetly and whispers ‘Apple juice’.
‘I don’t think we have any darling, but we do have orange juice’ I reply enthusiastically.
‘Don’t want orange juice. Want apple juice! ’ She asserts.
‘How about a yummy smoothie? ’I wink up at Fiona.
‘YUKY’ she shrieks, deafening any dogs in the area. Then she dives purposefully to the floor; arms and legs kicking out wildly. Within seconds she has become devil spawn, writhing and twisting her strong little body, snapping and slapping in a chaotic little energetic porcupine ball of spikes.

Fiona observes her daughter briefly and continues ‘There’s just a few music cds to help develop the babies right side of the brain; some alphabet songs and language tapes. It’s really important to get them early. Oh and there are lots of books to help you cope with the baby when it arrives’. Or at least that’s what I think she said. Its hard to hear anything with the pint sized anti-Christ in the room. Fiona doesn’t appear to be joking when she’s on about developing the baby whilst still in the womb, which is slightly worrying. Even more worrying, she does not seem to be remotely bothered by her daughter’s behaviour. Why doesn’t she order Megan to stop yelling? Isn’t she likely to hurt herself or damage my furniture?
‘I swear by the Gina Ford method’ she hushes reverentially.’ It really helped us introduce a routine with Megan. She was a great baby.’
I have no idea what she is talking about and am just about to ask her to enlighten me when she hollers like a banshee.’ Oh Megan, did you just pee all over Daisy’s carpet? I am sooo sorry!’
‘Yes’ Megan smiles proudly ‘And I did a poo too.’
My face is ashen. My pulse has quickened. I feel sick. What kind of delinquent is she? ‘Where is it?’ I croak dreading the response.
‘Here in my Dora panties! I need a gold star Mummy’ she pesters, holding up a very soiled bulky pair of panties. Christ, I can even see an undigested chunk of carrot in her perfectly formed poo. I am going to be sick!
‘Well let’s clean you up first Megan’ Fiona sighs resigned to the task ahead.
‘Then we’ll get a gold star and a biscuit’ Megan expertly closes the deal.
Fiona takes the boss out to the toilet while I survey the damage. How does one clean up urine from carpet? Is water enough? Do I use bleach? Will it stain? Will it smell? I hope Fiona’s books cover this kind of thing.

Eventually the she-devil leaves with her Mum. I rub my belly and promise myself that I will do everything very differently to Fiona. Not for the first time, I wonder what we are letting ourselves in for.