Over the weekend, Hazel had her first run-in with JO friends of ours, JO standing for John Originating. I must admit that I was a bit anxious going in, seeing as how JOs tend to not be as big on babies as MOs (Megan Originating). I feared that we’d bore them with infant-friendly activities or disgust them with pre-toddler bodily functions. I should point out that two of the visitors are actually DO friends, sharing a Dual Origination with both Megan and myself. However, I will maintain that the male half of this couple has strong JO tendencies (general dorkiness, crude humor, comic book knowledge, sci-fi leanings). Being outnumbered, the female half is getting the JO treatment in this post, being guilty by association.

All in all, we had a great time. Although I did notice a difference between this visit and when pure MOs or family hang out with Hazel. Unlike those times, if my memory serves, not a single JO made any physical contact with Hazel all weekend nor sought this opportunity out. In fact, when Hazel had a slight diaper malfunction and set to wailing during a public feeding, the real line in the sand was drawn between MOs and JOs. At first, naturally, there was much inching away and aversion of eyes. The safety zone appeared to be about 15 feet from the baby. However, as Hazel’s consternation grew, so did her decibel level. Without any visuals to go on, a bystander would have thought we were boiling our baby alive, inspired by the Lobster Fest madness that gripped Rockland all weekend. This set the JOs to actually run across the parking lot and huddle in their car, fiddling with the cold, predictable logic of cell phones and mp3 players. Once Hazel was cleaned up and calmed down, the visitation could continue.

I can understand this behavior. When my sister had her daughter a little over two years ago, my first visit was very much the same. I didn’t really want to hold my niece, and when I did, it was most awkward and reminiscent of how I would hold a Nerf product. However, I did differ from your standard JO in that, when it came to diaper time, I was all in…to observe that is, like at a teaching hospital. The only butts I wipe are my daughter’s and my own, the latter of which is a mental picture I want you all to savor for the rest of the day.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 8th, 2007 at 8:33 pm and is filed under Friends, Hazel.You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.