Newborns’ Necks Smell Like Garbage…and 5 Other Things I Didn’t Know Until Having a Baby

1. Babies are a lot like dogs. 

I’d never heard anyone say that before having my first baby, Alice—probably because it sounds a little harsh, but it’s true.  One need look no further than Alice’s toy basket to discover the truth behind this statement.  Balls?  Squeaky things?  Small stuffed animals?  Can anyone say dog toys?  And of course she chews on them.  Alice champs her gummy chops on just about anything she can find—her toys, the table, my husband, Ryan’s nose.  I’ve even caught her on all fours with a sock dangling out of her mouth.  I realize crawling is nothing out-of-the-ordinary for a baby, but you’ve gotta admit that, especially given their small size, it’s very dog-like. 

Fourthly, Alice pants.  She does this little whispered “heh” thing.  Ryan and I do it right back at her, probably perpetuating the behavior, but oh well, because we think it’s stinkin’ cute.   Alice usually pants when she’s excited, like when Ryan comes home from work.  I carry her over to him, facing out in my arms like she’s sitting in a king’s chair, and she smiles up at him with sparkling eyes and bobs up and down, kicking her stumpy little legs vigorously.  It’s as if she’s about to go running straight through the air and plow him down with a wet, slobbery kiss…not unlike man’s best friend greeting his beloved owner at the door, tail wagging, drool dripping, and all. 

And finally, babies aren’t potty-trained, just like new puppies.  As soon as they’re born, you have to slap a diaper on them or things are going to get messy pretty fast.  But at least babies are able to wear diapers, which brings me to my next point…

2.  Breast milk poop is like yellow dye.    

I’d been forewarned about the blow-outs.  I’d even researched the different stages in the colors, textures, and odors of poop as a baby progressed from birth, to drinking milk, to eating solids, but I had no idea how vibrantly yellow breast milk poop could stain.  You could dye your Easter eggs with it.  Thankfully, all it takes to get the stains out is a little scrubbing with your detergent before tossing it in the wash.  I just use my finger.  I realize some people would say that’s gross, but whatevs.  It’s like finger painting.  (Just kidding!)  I do the same with baby food stains.  I hadn’t realized pureed carrots and green beans could stain just as easily.  To keep from throwing the food-graffitied (both digested and undigested...as well as regurgitated) duds in the dryer and accidentally setting the stains,  I always make sure to have two separate piles of her clothes—one for the stains and the other for the non-stains.  It seems to work pretty well.

3.   Newborns’ necks smell like garbage.

…Unless you make it a point to clean under there when you’re bathing them.  I say “under there” because babies don’t have much of a neck…at least mine didn’t.  I kept catching whiffs of garbage in the air in the weeks after her birth, but was never able to determine exactly where the stench was coming from until one day when my friend came over to visit and hold her.   Alice had fallen asleep in her arms and her head was hanging limply to one side, her neck stretched out like a mini accordion.  I’d been so obsessive about holding her wobbly head up steady all of the time that the sight immediately caught my eye…and nose.  There was my sweet baby, hanging there in my friend’s doting embrace, all relaxed and snuggly and…stinky!  And she wasn’t merely smelly, but visibly dirty, too!  Lines of gray lint streaked across her soft, exposed neck like pencil marks in the spaces where her skin normally creased.  I assumed it had come from milk that had dribbled down her chin.  I was so embarrassed.  I wanted to drizzle some amber baby shampoo over a washcloth and take it to her neck right then and there, before my friend noticed the stripes or the smell.  I don’t know if she ever noticed anything.  She certainly didn’t say so if she did.  In any case, after that incident, I was sure to pay special attention to her neck when bathing her, as well as the skin between her fingers and toes (because I realized they had the lint, too), and in all of the “folds and creases,” as the baby books and websites ambiguously advised. 

4.  Babies make conversing with strangers even more awkward than usual.

I’m not very good at shooting the breeze with people I don’t know.  Don’t get me wrong—I make an effort, but usually, I’m pretty ungraceful about it.  I used to think that having a baby would make the discourse flow more smoothly.  I figured the bambino would provide a sort of distraction—an obvious topic of conversation and a good excuse to excuse myself when I ran out of things to say.  Both assumptions turned out to be true, but, unfortunately, neither made spontaneous exchanges less clumsy.   When Alice was brand new, one of the main sources of awkwardness was the silence I was often met with when people would come over to admire her while we were out and about.  These people would approach us slowly, their eyes transfixed on my bundle of joy.  They’d mumble something like, “How sweet,” and then proceed to stare wordlessly.  Though I appreciated their admiration, these interactions quickly turned uncomfortable, because there wasn’t a whole lot of interacting going on.  At least none that involved me.  I’d try and interject myself into their reverie by offering information, like Alice’s name and her age, but usually, they’d just nod absent-mindedly or even ignore me altogether.  Some people even seemed irritated with me for interrupting their special moment. 

The annoyance seemed to come more frequently from the people that actually talked, however.  They’d be talking to her in the checkout line or wherever, asking her questions like, “What do you think?” and “What have you got there?”  And since I’m apparently uncomfortable with silence, I’d feel obligated to answer, most often by throwing her up in front of my face and saying something like, “I think I need a nap”  in a squeaky baby voice.  As I’d move her away, I’d look back at the person with a playful grin, expecting them to chuckle at my dorkiness, but they almost never smiled back.  Given their blatant lack of amusement, you’d think I’d stop doing this, but I continue to, because it’s easier than just standing there, looking down at her with my lips pursed in an angelic smile like those moms in baby formula ads, sweetly chuckling, “Mmm,” but silently wondering if I should make eye contact with the person, or even attempt to offer an answer.  Though I still do it, I’ve come to the conclusion that in most cases, it’s best not to respond for a baby, whether you’re the caregiver or the other party, because in either situation, the high-pitched response is likely to perturb the one asking the questions.

I like to tell myself that these bumbling exchanges will get easier with more kids.  Either that, or I’ll be too busy to care.

5.  Shampoo, lotion, and laundry detergent are what make a baby “smell like a baby.”

I’ve come to this conclusion by observing that anytime anyone has sniffed Alice’s fuzzy head while cuddling her close after I’ve handed her over and said, “Oh—she smells like a baby,” it has been within an hour after Alice has been doused with lotion, dressed in clothes fresh from the wash, or plunked in the tub.  I snicker to myself as I fight back the urge to burst their bubble by replying, “Actually, she just smells like shampoo.”  I feel especially proud of myself when I’ve just smothered her in lotion, because oftentimes, I use it as a quick fix to make her smell good when I don’t have time to give her a bath.  As much as it amuses me, I really don’t blame people for making the association, though.  It’s widely known that, out of the five senses, scent is the most powerful trigger of emotional memories.  If you always used a certain brand of shampoo in your baby-rearing days, then you’re likely to be reminded of those times anytime you smell that fragrance in the future. As a matter of fact, I’m sure I’ll be saying the same thing when I hold other people’s babies down the road.  But I also think I’ll associate the smell of pee diapers, neck lint, milk breath, and warm, gooey, breast milk poop with Alice someday, too.   But I really don’t think I’ll mind that, because secretly, I love her stink just as much as her sweetness.

6.  When you have a new baby, everything’s a new adventure.

…And I mean everything.  It’s been amazing to watch Alice take in each new experience, from being in a vehicle for the first time, to embarking on her first stroller ride, to taking her first dip in the tub, pool, lake, and even ocean, to sleeping in the crib for the first night, to swallowing her first bite of solid food…this list goes on and on and on.  She truly is Alice in wonderland, and the really cool thing is I’m right there with her. Each new experience for her is also new for me. 

Life with a baby may be challenging and cumbersome at times—a true trial-and-error experience—but it’s so exciting, because it brings new life to otherwise stale and mundane events.  When Alice was born, for example, I may have been to the grocery store a thousand times before, but never with a baby.  And learning is always happening, not only for her, but also for me.  For instance, I’d never purchased a sweet potato, mango, or even a zucchini until I needed them to make baby food, which was a whole other new experience.  I’ve taken great pleasure in introducing her to new settings, people, and activities because they make her more easygoing and me more confident to forge ahead and try other new things in her company, like driving up to Minnesota or flying down to Florida without the support of another adult. 

I have so much fun recording all of our milestones on her first-year calendar that sometimes I forget that the calendar’s supposed to be about her first experiences, not mine.  In my enthusiasm, I find myself writing the word “Mommy” in the boxes a little too much, as in “Mommy takes Alice trick-or-treating!” on Halloween.  I have to make a conscious effort to remember that it’s going to be her keepsake one day, no matter how exciting these days may be for me as her mommy. 

For a while, I thought about purchasing a second calendar so that we could each have one to keep, but now that she’s already nine months old, I’ve scratched the idea.  It’s not so bad, though.  At least I’ll have this list.  ;)