This blog is made possible by the 10 seconds a day when my girl is fed, changed, napped and entertaining herself. I have a feeling I’m going to be a bit ‘ranty’, but hopefully comical, in the next few paragraphs. Before Azazel, I had a romantic idea of having a baby. I pictured an angelic, adorable little human that looked just like me but- unlike me- would never cry, whine, scream, etc. A Huggies commercial… I thought life with a baby would be like a Huggies commercial. Basically, I just had no idea that baby would need me 24/7. I mean, I knew she would need me but… can you ever really know until you have one?
I pictured being able to take long walks, drive out to my parents in the country, get out and enjoy Winnipeg, see friends, join groups and being so happy all the time with my baby silently and happily tagging along. Sigh. I did not think that 95% of my day would be occupied by crying, feeding her, getting her to sleep, crying, changing her diaper and then changing it again when she poops 2 minutes later, getting her dressed, changing her clothes cause she spit up or had ANOTHER poop that leaked all over her new white shirt, fussing, changing her diaper AGAIN, freaking out, trying to get her to sleep for another nap by feeding her, laying with her to ensure she sleeps, and sneaking out ever so slowly and ever so quietly and then enjoying that 10 second window when everything is perfect until she needs me again. Not to mention how badly I have to pee, or worse… #2, while she’s napping on my boob, how rarely I’m able to eat anything but an apple or granola bar or how disgusting the house, and my hair, looks.
I forgot what it was like to go out. I never thought twice about leaving the house. Now, I don’t leave the house without a stroller, car seat, 3 receiving blankets, 2 extra baby outfits, 7 diapers, wipes, a selection of small toys, a bottle, an extra shirt for me, a baby carrier, a bottle of water, a wool baby blanket and… oh yeah, a baby that can’t walk, talk, put on her own clothes or buckle herself in. I used to just grab a wallet and keys and go where I wanted to go. Now, it takes me an hour to change her and feed her in preparation to leave the house. Twenty minutes to get myself presentable: this entails putting my greasy hair up, covering my spit up stained shirt with a cardigan, a quick swipe of deodorant, putting on my socks and boots and making sure my phone is in my pocket- forget about putting together a matching outfit, showering or applying make-up. Then 10 minutes to throw everything Izzy, me or anyone I meet may possibly need into a bag, strap my girl into her seat, roll out the door and pack her and all her earthly belongings into the car.
Oh and also, I’ve never been dirtier.
I knew but didn’t know what having a kid would really be like and sometimes I want to pull my hair out- you think I’m just saying this because it’s an expression but I ACTUALLY want to pull my hair out sometimes… I think right now I’m expected to say “but” and list a bunch of wonderful things about motherhood (and there are wonderful things) however I think it’s important to just let it be said that bringing home a newborn is hard, aggravating work. Most of the time, I just feel like I’m keeping a tiny human alive and then she smiles at me or stops crying when I hold her or touches my face with her hand. And then I’m a Mom.
Go and tell a Mom that she’s awesome. Because Mom’s are awesome. It’s hard work being a Mom and I’m only 3 months into it… and I don’t think it gets easier.
