Anything Bad is Normal, and Just Wait…Your Kid will be an Asshole by Age Three: The Mary Patterson Guide to Parenting
Chapter 1: Pregnancy
Here is the breakdown:
First few days: Happy excitement.
After that through month four/five: Vomit zombie.
One day in month five: “I feel like a person again. I can do
this!”
After that through month nine: WHALE.
Chapter 2: Birth
Horrifying.
Chapter 3: Aftermath
Also horrifying.
My favorite was the nurse emptying my catheter while my
entire family was crammed into my room.
This is also when the Breastfeeding Army begins their onslaught. Hopefully you have a good partner who will tell them to **** off.
Chapter 4: Coming home
Post-partum sounds like post-mortem and it is not a
coincidence.
It’s a good thing I took a parenting class because it was
helpful as bollocks. Also, I get my period back super-fast and thought I was
bleeding to death. It’s funny now, but at the time I was straight-up hyperventilating
and realized maybe I need some Zoloft.
Chapter 5: Maternity leave
This is basically like lockdown, but you’re alone with a newborn. Bonus if this coincides with the hottest, most miserable time of the
summer where you can’t even go outside to get the mail without sweating.
At this point, I realize I should have started thinking about
childcare for the end of my maternity leave about two years before my child was
born.
Chapter 6: Baby clothes
If you have more than four outfits, you have too many. If you
have anything with snaps instead of zippers, just kill yourself.
Now, I don’t have a daughter, which means I don’t have to
deal with bows/headbands/turbans and I’m just going to say it: I am honestly, actively grateful that I don’t have to deal with this
at least once a week. I think I wore my first dress at age two, and not because
my parents were woke, but because it was the 80s and no one cared about any of this crap.
Lest you think I’m gloating or judging (which I definitely am),
the downside of baby boy clothes is that you have two options: 1) some
douche-y hipster saying or 2) sharks or dinosaurs. Girl clothes, by contrast, have
about 1 million options and even more sequins.
Chapter 7: Sleep
Forget it. You aren’t sleeping, ever again, unless you’re
one of Those Parents whose kid is sleep-trained at eight weeks and then you can just
kiss my ass.
Chapter 8: Swaddles
Sometime between 1982 and now, some asshole who hated life invented
these monstrosities. They are the GD worst and a hassle, and anyone who says
they found a good one is deluding themselves. Just burn them all when your
child can (finally!) roll over.
Chapter 8: Food
Baby-led weaning? Home-made purees? Rice cereal with
arsenic? Radioactive elements in your jarred sweet potatoes?
Get ready for a shit storm of options, “experts”, guilt, and
in the end, a crap ton of grilled cheese.
Chapter 9: The displaced fur-baby
Your pet’s life ended the day that kid came home. It is sad,
but what are you going to do? Rehome them like an asshole?
Chapter 10: the Pediatrician
Maybe this seems obvious, but babies hate doctors and they also hate shots. This is great because the first year, you have to go to the doctor for
shots every other day and it is magical.
Chapter 11: Classes
This is where you realize that other kids aren’t like your
kid, and other parents are other people, which is to say, terrible. Best to
avoid until the last possible second.
Chapter 12: All the feels
This is best described as a sudden, huge surge of
overpowering emotion vis-à-vis 1-how amazing this little person is and 2-how you
could burst because you love them so much.
It can happen anywhere and may or may not be accompanied by
tears.
Here’s an example: “He’s looking for the Christmas tree! I
never should have taken it down! He’ll never be this little at Christmas ever
again. Oh god!”
It’s a random, unexpected awareness of a deep and mighty love that makes you stop in your tracks and marvel at its power. It really is beyond
description. Luckily, your chronically unhappy cat or a Lego underfoot will snap
you out of it. But in that spare moment (ha! those!) when you have time to pause, it
leaves you feeling teary, but so, so alive.
Happy Mother’s Day,
mommas.
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