Here I am just past the 2 week mark as a new mom… I have passed the “mortified daze” phase of baby blues and a body not yet adjusted to sleeping in hour-and-a-half clips. I am not sitting on a doughnut pillow anymore. Or a bag of frozen peas. I just did my first (1/4) dose of my M.S. injection in a year.
With baby steps, life with baby is moving from surreal to normal. Sometimes very tiny baby steps.
That being said, a few observations from the trenches of new motherhood:
-Husbands, when your wife emerges from behind the door of the baby’s room, bundle “of joy” in arms after another screaming, poopy, wiggling diaper change, there are three words you should say- “More wine dear?”
– There should be professional moms whose careers we can all follow like sports teams. They could be sponsored by their favorite baby products so we know what they can’t do without – “Mary Smith and her son Timmy use Similac and Bordeaux Butt Paste as you can see from the new decal on her SUV.” I feel like my amateur status will keep me eligible for the Baby Care Olympics for years to come.
– I no longer care what we went through to get the chair into the nursery. It was ALL worth it. That chair is like a big blue marshmallow cloud. Which is good because I live there now. Seriously, all mail can be addressed to me at “The chair in the Nursery, our street address.’
– My definition of “cooking” has been instantly altered. I “cooked” a meal myself 2 nights ago by taking pre-cooked and diced frozen chicken breast, mixing it with some gifted liquid cheese and taco bell mild sauce, filling tortillas with it, and covering it in my friend Terresa’s green chili. It was delicious. Combining other people’s gifted food now qualifies as “cooking” in this house.
– 70’s country songs don’t always have the most family friendly lyrics, not that I knew what I was really singing about in the back of the family Wagoneer growing up. Hopefully my child won’t either, since they are the only songs i remember all the words to and are now his staple lullabies.
– If you read Goodnight Moon enough, you start to kind of talk in that rhythm.
All done post. All done, almost. All done and now I want some toast.