I'm not sure if you knew this but in the NICU? The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit? The IC stands for Intensive Care. As in, these babies are sick and shit so, ya know, be quiet you giant freaking idiot.
We get new neighbors all.the.time. We've been NICU residents for 160 (!!!!) days which probably makes me the old crotchety librarian-type mom who gives you the evil eye over the frame of her horn rimmed glasses - or maybe I just wear a monocle, I don't know I haven't really thought it through. It is also possible that I smell like mothballs. AND, I used a new Essie nail polish that turned my nails yellow. I'm not really sure if it helps this whole old/crotchety image but it can't hurt, right?
So anyway, as per usual, I am annoyed by the general public.
I sat and listened to the dad of a 1 pound preemie for a solid half an hour a few weeks ago. "Open your eyes for daddy! Come on, now, be a good girl and open your eyes! You want to open your eyes for daddy, don't you? Don't you? Open em! Come on! Open your eyes pretty girl! Hey! Hey! Open em! Open those eyes for daddy!" Etcetera for a million years until the baby is old enough to pierce her tongue and make out with a bad boy in rebellion and to properly tell her daddy to go fuck himself.
So anyway, I have my back to this guy and I'm just plotting his demise the entire time I'm holding my trying to sleep three month old (adjusted!) and then I finally turn around because I have got to see this guy. I mean, I need a place to focus my aggression. And all I see is four inches of boxer shorts bending down to talk to his one pound baby WHO IS WEARING GOGGLES. Like this:
|Ainsley, the day after she was born.|
You think she's opening her eyes under there?
You think she's rolling them in complete annoyance?
|And for good measure...|
Ainsley, 151 days after she was born.
8 pounds, 2 ounces.
Do you think she's plotting that guy's demise? I bet she is.