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Broke Wife, Big City
8 things I’ll
do differently with my second baby
By Aprill Brandon
1. Accept any and all help
If you would have told me three years ago that I’d be the kind of new
mom who felt she had to do everything herself, I would have laughed so
hard at you I would’ve farted, laughed even harder, farted even harder
and then finished chugging my comically large glass of wine. But let me
tell you, the second I heard my first born’s screams, it felt like they
were physically tearing into me, causing me to whisk him away from
whomever was nice enough to try to give me a much-needed break. I felt
like I HAD to be the one to comfort him.
But this time? Good luck getting me to even take him/her back. My
immunity to cries is nearly impenetrable.
2. Breastfeed in public
I’ll be honest. I’m probably the biggest breastfeeding in public
advocate you will ever meet who has never actually breastfed in public.
I always wanted to. I always meant to. But my son and I never quite
mastered the smooth and barely perceptible mouth to boob maneuver. It
was more like an awkward five minutes of fumbling, the breastfeeding
equivalent of a freshman trying to unsnap his first bra. So I always
chickened out and brought a bottle with us.
But I refuse to be intimidated this time. It’s just a boob. It’s not
like I’m showing off my ankles like some kind of two-bit hussy.
3. Not worry about how fast I can drop the baby weight
I’ll lose it eventually. But there’s a only a small-ish window of time
after having a baby that you can get away with still wearing maternity
clothes and I plan to stretch that window to the limits of human
decency.
4. Remember that crying is not indicative of my skills as a parent
And by crying, I mean both by the baby and by me.
5. Prepare the coffee the night before
The only thing that takes longer than labor and delivery is the amount
of time it takes to separate coffee filters at 3:30 in the morning
while you’re holding a hungry and screaming newborn against your
leaking boobs that have transformed into rock hard (and painful)
granite overnight. Life with a newborn would improve a thousand times
over if I can only remember to take 90 seconds and set up the
coffeemaker before I go to bed.
6. Stop worrying if I’m posting too many photos of my baby online
I am. Of course I am. I one hundred percent am. But who cares!? I
created life, jerkwads! Look at it! I SAID LOOK AT IT!
7. Stop apologizing for being moody and hormonal
Am I being irrational? *hurls Diaper Genie at your face* Maybe. But my
only job right now is keeping this tiny, demanding infant alive. And I
have to do it with 20,000 tons of weapons-grade hormones hurling
themselves through my exhausted body, So I can’t always be polite about
it. Everyone should just automatically assume I don’t really mean it
when I call them a “useless idiotic assface.”
8. Share every single intimate (and disgusting) aspect of my baby’s
existence a little less
As a new mom, it’s impossible not to be obsessed with your baby. But
it’s important to remember that even though to you, lil’ junior’s poop
color and consistency is the most fascinating story you’ve encountered
since you finished reading “Infinite Jest,” everyone else doesn’t give
a crap (pun COMPLETELY intended). Even your partner and the
grandmothers can only take so much. Practice in front of the mirror if
you must:
“How is the baby?”
“Well, he’s kind of really mangled my left nipple with his overly
vigorous sucking so right now he’s just drinking from the right breast
so I’m a little concerned he’s not getting enough to eat although the
doctor said as long as his poop is consistent there is no reason to
worry but then he got that butt rash…I mean, he’s doing fine. How are
you?”
And here are a few things I’ll do exactly the same…
Skip laundry, let the dishes pile up and order pizza for dinner just so
I can spend one more hour lounging on the couch while my newborn sleeps
on my chest. I just made a human and I’ll be damned if I don’t make
time to enjoy it.
Continue to dress my baby in whatever ragtag outfit is the most diaper
accessible. Cute, unstained, matching clothes are for creatures that
don’t vomit and poop every 26 minutes.
Trust my instincts. Everyone told me this before I became a mother and
I thought every single one of them was insane. I barely had enough
instinct to keep myself alive. But lo and behold, when I popped that
gigantic Viking baby out, those instincts kicked in and they have yet
to steer me wrong (introducing him to that little red demon Elmo
notwithstanding).
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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