And All of a Sudden, I'm a 24-year-old Aunt

This past fall my older sister, age 29, gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She is my sister’s first child, my parents’ first grandchild, and my first niece. Needless to say, things are a bit different in the Morris family! Some may say the most important thing to do now is welcome this new baby to the world. But I attest that the most important thing to do now is to impress upon everyone that I am too young to be associated with a baby. And, thinking about my future, it also seems important to keep saying over and over that my sister is too young to have a baby.

Some of my readers may think, “What’s the big deal? Don’t most 24 year olds have their own kids, plus tons of nieces and nephews? I mean, people half that age have babies.” And to you I say, stop being so mean! Jeez! Real sensitive! After I told you my family was going through all these changes and everything!

To which you may retort, “and 29 is certainly an appropriate age to have your first child. Maybe even a little late.” But you’re wrong. Trust me. Once you’re in the thick of it, watching your sister stay up night after night, attempting to decipher and quell the baby’s unrelenting shrieks —hair all messy, shirt soaked in spit-up, pregnancy weight still lingering— you’re really made to appreciate your youth.

The whole task of taking care of a baby seems decades beyond me. For example, here are all the things that my sister has to do to prepare breakfast for her baby: wash the bottle, nipple, lid, and some weird thing that goes in the middle of the bottle; boil water; cool boiling water; measure formula; mix formula and water in a way that creates no air bubbles; sacrifice the skin on her wrist to see if food will burn the baby’s mouth.

Now, let’s compare that to what I do to feed myself breakfast. Before I go to bed the night before: mix chocolate flavored instant breakfast with milk in travel mug; put in fridge. The next morning: While brushing teeth, go downstairs; remove mug from fridge; microwave it; run upstairs; spit; get dressed; drive to work with mug in hand; burn mouth.

To be fair, this routine is hardly my everyday. I am often forced to go without breakfast because there are so many variables. Sometimes I forget to mix the instant breakfast the night before, or I forget to take it out of the microwave, or the milk’s gone bad and I have to throw it out, or I didn’t wash my travel mug from the previous day. But more often than not, I skip breakfast because I hit snooze too many times, and there just isn’t any time to heat it up.

Does that sound like someone who’s ready to be associated with a baby?

You now may be saying something along the lines of, “Okay, okay, we get it. Due to your … age… you aren’t ready to take care of a baby, but surely you could handle being an aunt.” Oh, really, you think so? Let’s delve into that hypothesis.

Think back to your own childhood and ask what made a good aunt. One word: Presents. I certainly think I’m good at picking out gifts for children. As someone who refuses to accept her age, I consider myself attune to hot new trends in toys and games. However, there is more to gift-giving than picking out the best present. You also have to pay for that present. I am fairly new to the work force and self-sufficiency; I’m not exactly brimming with surplus income. And besides, any surplus I do have kinda needs to be spent on candy and beer for me. C’mon, I’m 24!

So, presents are out, what else do aunts do? Babysit. I don’t think I’m ready to be alone with a newborn baby. My panic reflex sets in just thinking about it (chest tightens, breath shortens, tears flow). The closest I’ve come to babysitting was holding the baby while my sister took a nap. It lasted about 20 minutes, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t move my spine the entire time.

Anything else characterize being a good aunt? Supporting my sister? Sure, sure, in theory that’s all well and good. But she’s awfully cranky these days— what with being a young mother and all.