10 Reasons My Baby Is An Evil Genius

10 Reasons My Baby Is An Evil Genius

It’s not very nice to call your baby evil, so you should only do this if it is true.

And in my case, it is most definitely true. My baby is 10kgs of pure evil.

I should say at this point, she is nine months old, I didn’t give birth to the world’s biggest baby (though it sort of felt like I did).

10 Reasons My Baby Is An Evil Genius

She is evil from the fuzzy tips of the blonde hair on her head right down to those perfect little toenails on her adorably fat feet (who needs ankles?).

Here’s 10 ways I know she’s an evil genius:

#1: She Once Pooped On The Floor

Well, if I’m to be honest, there’s been quite a lot of pooping on the floor but one time in particular stands out.

We were hanging out in the living room, I’d just putted a fresh nappy on her and had sat back on the sofa for a moment. Unbeknownst to me, my baby then whipped off her nappy and side-stepped right out of it.

To me, it simply looked like she was merrily cruising along the sofa. Until the smell hit. A waft of a steaming fresh turd reached my nostrils and I knew something was amiss. I leaned forward only to find a pile of fresh turd on the wooden floor.

But it was better than that. It was a pile of fresh turd with a baby-sized footprint in it and then a trail of poopy footprints leading right to my baby who had a grin so huge and so manic on her little face that I knew that turd was a deliberate gesture.

#2: She Wastes My Milk

They don’t call it liquid gold for no reason, breast milk is a valuable resource that should, under no circumstances, be wasted.

Well, my baby disagrees. She loves to waste it. She takes joy from wasting it. She does it on purpose. She lets it build up, going hours between feeds so I am left looking like a very disappointing Pamela Anderson look-alike, then she latches on.

Of course, my body springs into action and pretty soon I have Niagra Falls spurting from my chest. At this point, she pulls off, gives me a pointed look so I know it was deliberate and then turns away.

Like an uprooted fire hydrant in an old cartoon, my nipple creates a spray so powerful it knocks the light shade from the ceiling, blinds passersby and forces me to whip out my yellow plastic  ‘warning: wet floor’ sign.

#3: She Terrifies Me First Thing In The Morning

I am not exactly a morning person. If I must wake, I like to do so gently. Breakfast in bed or excited shrieks from my husband because we have won the lottery, I can live with. But generally, I’d rather be asleep.

What I do know are ways that I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to wake up because a shrill alarm is sounding in my ear. I don’t want to wake up to screams. I don’t want to wake up in a wet patch.

But, most of all, I don’t want to wake up because a tiny clawed hand is prising my eyelids apart. And yet, that is how I wake up pretty much every day, to the accompanying soundtrack of heavy breathing coming from my evil baby.

#4: Sometimes She Disappears

This is something only an evil baby would do because it is, quite frankly, absolutely terrifying. I’m the mama, it’s my job to look after her and keep her safe. But how can I do that when she makes it her job to escape from and hide from me at all times?

My daughter will be happily playing with a toy for ten minutes, completely lost in concentration and having the time of her life, when I decide to pop out of the room for 30 seconds. No, 30 seconds is not code for half an hour, it’s actually 30 seconds. No time at all.

And yet, when I return, she is gone. Gone. She is nowhere to be seen. Queue my mad dash around the house to find her. She is sometimes in the hallway eating shoes, in the playroom trying to reach the Lego, or in the kitchen trying to find the breakfast she launched over the side of the highchair earlier.

#5: She Screams A Lot

I have a five year old and a nine month old. It’s a big age gap but it is lovely. With the older one at school all day, I get time alone with the baby and it makes our family time feel even more special.

As my baby grows, her big sister loves finding new and exciting ways to play with her. She plays pass the toy, she builds towers for her baby sister to knock down and she reads her stories (which makes me heart want to burst).

My baby is not interested in any of these things, all she wants to play is Scream Loudly. It is her favourite game. She screams at the top of her voice (which is surprisingly loud for such a tiny lady) then her sister screams at the top of her voice (which is deafeningly loud because she is five years old) and it never ends.

They play this most of the time they are together. Even at 6am in the morning. And we lived in a terraced house.

#6: She Steals My Food

Babywearing is the loveliest thing ever until babies figure out they can eat food. Then it is terrible. Whilst snuggled up in the wrap, my baby has put me on an enforced diet simply by stealing all my food.

She will take anything and everything I try to put in my mouth. She tried to eat my ice-cream once. She grabbed a crisp which I then had to wrestle from her tiny hand. She knocked my glass of wine out of my hand and all over her so I looked like a terrible mum even though it was her who did it.

She definitely did this on purpose because she spent the rest of the day eyeing up old ladies with a sad expression on her face as though she was appearing on a child neglect poster.

#7: She Shoved A Rice Cake Up My Nose

It’s not all bad, she’s not completely selfish, she likes to share her food, too. The only problem is, her food is unflavoured rice cake or banana that has been handled and sucked for so long that it has turned to mush. These aren’t exactly my favourite foods.

Now, every time I give her something to eat, she offers me some. It sounds cute but her offering skills aren’t exactly honed. She took a whole rice cake yesterday, soggy from being sucked, and shoved it up my nose. In public.

#8: She Pooped In My Bath

This sibling jealousy struggle is real. It’s hard to make time to enjoy solo time with the oldest child because babies have so many needs. It’s getting easier now the baby’s a little older, I can leave her with my husband for an hour or two whilst I have some fun with the big one, but it wasn’t always that simple.

And I’m pretty sure my baby gets jealous and tries to ruin my bonding time with her big sister anyway. One time, we were in the bath. I was washing her hair ready for school the next day. Suddenly, we heard crying from downstairs and eventually my husband appeared at the door. He handed her over so I could quickly feed her in the bath.

The plan was that when she had a full tummy and a smile on her face, my husband would take her back downstairs and I’d carry on enjoying some time along with my firstborn. Clearly, the baby didn’t like this plan because she immediately and unashamedly pooped in the bath. A mass evacuation quickly followed.

#9: She Spilled Water On My Bed

We have a headboard shelf, it seemed like a really good idea at the time. This was pre-baby. We’d be able to have our books and stuff there without having to have bedside tables. Genius. Or it was, right up until my evil genius learned how to pull herself up.

She has thrown books at me, knocked my phone onto the floor and gotten hold of about a zillion things she shouldn’t have. But the most evil thing she has done was the time she tipped a whole glass of water all over my side of the bed right before bedtime. I had to sleep on a towel.

#10: She Puked In My Cleavage

It’s not easy finding nice things to wear when you’ve recently had a baby. Your tummy is still puffy and swollen, your boobs are like boulders and you need easy access to your nipples. I was going to a wedding and I wanted to look presentable. I picked out an outfit in advance and took it with me all the way to Scotland (very far away).

I got up early, showered and allowed myself enough time to get ready. By the time I’d finished applying makeup, I thought I looked ok. Just as we were about to leave the hotel to get to the ceremony, I picked up my baby and she puked all over my cleavage. It created a pool of milky vomit in the cups of my bra. I didn’t have a spare with me so I just had to fish it out with tissue and continue with my day. My glamorous day.

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Fiona Peacock is a writer, researcher and lover of all things to do with pregnancy, birth and motherhood (apart from the lack of sleep). She is a home birth advocate, passionate about gentle parenting and is also really tired.

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