Ok, so my mom wasn’t like your dream mom that few had growing up. She wasn’t making casseroles or baking for the PTA. When we were sick of eating at our restaurant (I grew up in the restaurant business) and she had exhausted her 2 recipes: chili and stuffed peppers, we would head out to Captain D’s or Ho Jo’s during the “kids eat free” night. When we fought in the back of her car, she would channel her inner Joan Crawford and start swiping haphazardly, hoping to claw one of us.
So I chuckled when my blogging friend: No Love For Fatties said (I think jokingly??) I should write a book about parenting the other day. By the way, please check out her blog, she is amazing!
One of the themes of my blog is I am flawed. You are probably flawed and neither of us are perfect. Perfection is the fly you swipe at and never hit. Even with a fly swatter (Pinterest, Facebook, bragging, etc.) you don’t succeed. I decided last year to quit swatting at that fly and let it die in the crevice of the sliding glass door. Hot Mess-1. Fly-0.
So yeah, below is an extremely high level view if I were to give parenting advice but only up to year 11. Sorry, I wasn’t 16 and Pregnant. Hell, I wasn’t even 25 and Pregnant.
Do not brag to anyone that you don’t have morning sickness. For the moms that did have it, they will be bitch slapping you in their heads. I bitched slapped TONS of women in my head.
Do not announce when you have 0 kids you want 4 kids someday. You are stupid and have no idea what you are saying.
Do not say you want to have the baby natural because you are afraid of the harm an epidural can do. Don’t be a martyr or someone’s hero. Have that stupid epidural. Want more proof? I had 2. My oldest is going into 6th grade but is being placed in the 7th grade gifted program for reading. Drop the mic.
You will probably poop on the delivery table. There is nothing I can say or do to fix this. You’re just gonna’ have to accept this and move on. Sorry, I wish I had better news.
After the baby is born
The first 2 months is fucking boot camp. Why the fuck did anyone NOT tell me this is beyond me. It’s like the momantti are real and keep this a complete secret. I can’t imagine boot camp or torture being any worse. Between the adorable smiles, it blows.
I googled postpartum depression help in my city and found a support group. Please do it. I once walked ChiChi (my chihuahua) in a thick burgundy bathrobe down my neighborhood crying. That is when I knew I needed help.
Babies blow through an average of 70 diapers a week and that shits expensive. 1/2 way through your pregnancy, every week, buy a pack of diapers. We had amassed 1,200 diapers before our 2nd son was born. If we had the wrong size we simply exchanged it.
Buy 80% ghetto diapers (grocery story brand)/20% Bill Gates diapers (Pampers): Ghetto diapers during the day and Bill Gates diapers at night.
“I feel so close to my baby when I breast feed.” Eye roll. This is the type of douchebaugette that would call everything AMAZING in her mid-twenties. I’ll be real here: not for me. Hated it actually. Like diving and cartwheels, I couldn’t get the proper “form” thus stressing the relationship between my son and I. Additionally, turns out “the girls” don’t work independently and if 1 starts going the other follows. Yeah, no one ever told me this. Having to either breast feed or pump every 2-3 hours was mental torture because it doesn’t stop so you can get a solid 6 hours of sleep. For the second child I realized a happy, less stressed mom is better than a sleep deprived, train wreck and you know what? I didn’t breast feed. And you know what? C is on track to be in the gifted program too. When your ready to turn in the girls, stick red cabbage in your bra. I know, I sound like a cave woman, just do it and report back to me.
Often times there are certain relatives, 60+, that feel they know best about raising kids and may look at you funny when you announce your child will be receiving immunizations. It won’t come overnight but eventually you’ll get enough nerve to tell them to return their lead paint pop sickles to the thrift store because you got this.
I could go all night. Am I harpy? Am I being too harpy here? Please tell me if I am. Oh God, I don’t want to be that person.
That is my most important advice and that’s just baby time. Maybe tomorrow or Thursday I’ll post toddler to tweener.