After 9 months of relentless hazing
I just had to make it through D-day to join this group of emotionally unstable women with no boundaries that have seem to forgotten what a hairbrush is—yet I still wanted in! But I was going to be a “cool” mom. This is something only first time moms say. There is no such thing as a cool mom and by the second kid we have all come to terms with that. When “mom” in front of a pair of jeans is used as an insult, what more proof do you need? And why is there no such thing as dad jeans? Why are dads still cool? Oh, I remember, because they haven’t had their bodies morphed into something off of animal planet and still engage in daily adult conversations while we are in quarantine getting our souls sucked out.
Our modesty has gone out the window along with our pride, personal time, personal hygiene, personal goals and our entire personalities. Our goals are now our kids’ goals and our accomplishments now include finding turds in mini potties that we have to clean up—and this shit actually makes us happy! Then we tell people about it and this is right about where we become uncool.
Anyways, D-day arrived and it was time to join motherhood! Kaylen ripped her way into this world after two hours of pushing and then crapped all over my chest right before they set her on me. In this meconium massacre we laid skin to skin while the OB stitched my mutilated hoo-ha back together. After the 19th stitch it was time to figure out this nursing thing. She kinda looked like a dumb blind mole looking for its hole; I just wasn’t seeing how this was ever going to work. They popped on this video to show me how to get the perfect latch and I see this boob the size of a cantaloupe with a legit utter on the end and the baby latches right on. Uh, no shit the baby can nurse on that!! Can they show me a video with some not so A+ nursing nipples?! I look down at my nickel-sized areola and am thinking maybe this cute dumb mole of mine isn’t the problem. So after 24 hours of crying, cracking, bloody nipples, they finally bring in this magical piece of silicone—the nipple shield!
Day 1 — Motherhood
Time to pull the garden hose out of my urethra and see if I can pee… phew, plumbing works! I grabbed my giant ace bandage underwear, inserted the yoga mat sized maxi pad and pulled it all up over my softball sized lady bits and was ready to do this!! No instructions, no warranty, no approval process, nothing; we were leaving with a baby and had no idea what was ahead (thank god).
Had tapping out been an option, I would have! Motherhood would have gone out the window, I would still own a hair brush and I wouldn’t have dinosaurs jabbing me in the ass when I crawl into bed at night while smelling myself wondering if the puke in my bra is even from today. Thankfully, tapping out wasn’t a viable option the first, second, third or fourth time or I wouldn’t have these four cubs who make my life so full, rich, meaningful and an everyday disaster. #momlife — The days are long, the nights are even longer but the years are short and I wouldn’t have it any other way.