Matty and Schotty's Little Slice Of Love Baby
Since Niagara University rarely has any events on the weekends, and those that it does host are usually something along the lines of come to our knitting party or learn how to make paper, we decided to venture off into the culturally diverse city of Niagara Falls and attend the Freedom Festival. Upon our arrival, we were not greeted with fun festival food or African American history that we were expecting. Instead, we were asked by a random woman sitting at a booth if we would be interested in fostering a child. Naturally, out of boredom we accepted, and the very next day our new family member, Thanks a Latte Schottmiller-GuiffrÃ©, was delivered to us. Now, we didn't waste any time reading about how to parent a baby or calling our mothers to see if there were any tricks to the trade.
How hard could it be to raise our precious little Thanks? And we fi gured that, since nontraditional ways of raising a child are more in right now, that we would do things the old-fashioned way and have our baby raised by one gay man and his best friend.
Schotty on the ceremony of birth:
After finishing all the paper work that goes with fostering a child, Matty and I decided that a ceremony of birth needed to take place. This way we would have photos in the future for the baby to see how he came into this world. After an hour of screaming and tight handholding, we officially welcomed Thanks a Latte Schottmiller-GuiffrÃ© into the world. Obviously, since I'm watching my fi gure, Matty was the pregnant parent in the birthing ceremony. I placed Thanks under a white sheet, then slid him out from under it when I thought it was a good time for him to be born, and placed him right into Matty's arms. Sure, he may grow up with various questions that he'll be too embarrassed to ask about, like how he entered this world. But, at least he'll know he had two people who cared enough about him to put on such an act. Many people do not get that in their lifetime.
Matty on naptime:
After four-and-a-half hours trying to teach Thanks how to speak, I was exhausted. It was then that I remembered naptime. The only problem was that, as I crawled into bed at three o' clock in the afternoon I realized naptime isn't so much for the parents as it is for the baby. Now, when Thanks was left at our doorstep, he didn't come with any directions, so I fi gured it wasn't a big deal that we put him down for a nap in a cardboard box. I mean, come on, how luxurious do we need to get here? We're college kids, we eat Ramen for every meal of the week except for the occasional visit to Clet Dining Hall to steal fruit. We can't afford a crib! I also didn't think Thanks would mind sleeping in the same clothes that he had been wearing for the past 48 hours, either, because he's a baby, and he really doesn't care what he looks like. That's something I'll always love about him: he doesn't have body image issues. Now, I know what you're thinking. Couldn't we splurge a little and buy our new family member a bed or at least some sort of seat to sleep in? The answer is no. But we did put some newspaper down in the cardboard box so he would be more comfortable.
Schotty on feedings:
Considering I hadn't planned on having a child of my own until I was a 30-year-old woman, fostering Thanks became quite a new challenge in my life. When Matty went out to get his daily beard trimming and left me with the baby, I was quite confused. After staring at Thanks for nearly three hours I decided he looked pretty hungry. So, I did what any great mother would do. I gave him pizza, nachos and cheese fries. We then played another round of staring at each other, while I tried to make him eat with my mind. He was quite ungrateful, and didn't even touch the delicious foods I had given him. Alhough he did drool all over them. Finally, Matty came back and gave Thanks something in a plastic bottle that smelled like it was days old. Perhaps the next feeding will go over more smoothly, and less sloppily.
Matty on picking up guys:
We never really took into consideration that, when you feed a baby something, it eventually comes out the other end. This became a problem when neither of us wanted to change Thanks and he wouldn't stop crying. So, in an attempt to drown out the wailing, we ventured outdoors and began to stroll around campus. Thanks created quite the stir since, for the most part, the only babies you see on campus are either the growing fetuses in knocked-up freshmen or the freshmen themselves. Each way we turned we were greeted with horrifying screams and people becoming quite animalistic and diving into bushes to avoid being in our presence. Of course, the reactions were not all bad. You've heard before that babies are excellent chick magnets. Well they work for gay guys as well. One stroll around the block with this baby, and I had more phone numbers than my wallet could hold. Thanks, Thanks.
Schotty on picking up guys:
Like any normal woman, the fi rst thing I thought about once I had a baby of my own was how many ridiculous outfi ts I could put it into. The next thing was how I could catch so many guys while riding with my baby. One sunny day, I decided to take Thanks out for a test drive, so to speak. We headed to the mall and I carted Thanks around for all the hot guys to see. I decided my plan was not going well when every guy I passed by got a look of shock across their face when they saw that I had a baby on board. The face I kept seeing from the guys around me reminded me of the face my dad must have had when my mother told him she was pregnant with my sister after she had told him she couldn't get preggers (My sister is 25 and my parent's 25th anniversary didn't occur until after her birthday. You do the math). After a day of disappointment and no guys in sight, I went home saddened -- but knowing I could dress up Thanks in a fairy costume. And you can't put a price on that.