My days of non parenthood are drawing to a close.
She’s due July 4.
Four days left.
The little Patriot.
I’m not exactly sure how I feel about this. Happy? Anxious? Indifferent?
I’ve been on my own since 17 so it’s probably time I have someone to think about and care for other than my winning self and general oral hygiene. This change steers me toward “happy.”
And yet what the heck is one supposed to do with a whimpering flesh packet all day?
I see a play group in my future. Perhaps entre into a mom’s club. Will my workaholic husband commit to a designated “family day?” And what does one do on such days around here? Mulch? Shovel things? As a family?
I wonder if it’s inevitable I will transform into one of those moms who change their kids’ dirty diapers on friends’ couches with no thought to the upholstery. And talk about the viscosity of baby poop in public because it seems like a fascinating topic worthy of discussion. And tote Goldfish crackers, half-eaten bagels and spelt rice cakes where ever I go like some damn Sherpa. Oh yes, and squirt breast milk on unsuspecting friends because it seems like a touchingly hilarious thing to do! (This has happened to me; I’ve never been the same.)
Yeah, I’m not going to deny it. There’s a lot about parenthood I dread.
In the meantime, I feel like I need to mark the end of my spawn-less days; to commemorate the end of an era somehow. I’ve got four days left. I’m thinking I’ll either
a) go out for ice cream
b) take a long walk through the woods
c) dream log
d) treat myself to another deep-fried hamburger….only this time, I won’t hold back. I’ll deep fry the bacon too.
All original content © 2012 by Jessie Knadler
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
e) all of the above
Oh, please select nap. Nap like there’s no tomorrow. Go to the bathroom in peace. Enjoy it now because those will be a distant memory soon!
f) photograph belly button. Trust me. The belly button is a mystery. It will never look like this again, and it will never look like it once did. Make a kind of scrapbook out of it.
Don’t forget to write about the time when you will be up at 2am changing a really poopy diaper when the fountain erupts and you end up covered in poop and pee. Yep, it’s in your hair too.
Nothing to dread, right?
No lies, being a Mom will change you. You WILL talk about poop in public, you WILL carry loads of baby things everywhere, you WILL consider changing the diaper in a very public place just to save time. But I can not even being to tell you all of the good changes. I fought having a baby for 10 years of marriage due to fear and change. I was scared to death all during the pregnancy and even the first couple of ‘mom-months’. But I am so glad I did it. You will love being a Mom.
And there is nothing wrong with family time consisting of mulching or gardening. I think the world would be a better place if more kids had that find of family time.
DO NOT join a Mom’s Club. Trust me on this.
Karen: Ha ha! Why?
You are so screwed, Knadler. Also, are you gonna live-blog the birth? Crowning! Crowning! OMG.
Nivi: That’s why I love you. The unvarnished truth. Hurts every time. Ha!
We will celebrate my son’s birthday on July 4. Twelve years ago early in the morning, he changed our lives forever.
Good luck… Hope your firecracker arrives soon!
Sleep! actually, you can’t appreciate sleep as much as AFTER you have children…..I wasted many an afternoon wishing my two year old would still take a nap so I could reduce the bags under my eyes.
JK, you will be blown away when June arrives, all these thoughts will be forgotten until the age of one maybe :0) I will say, try to have a friend that is childless and fun when bubs get older…..like you were for me. You need to remember you are still ok without the family reminding you, I think you know what I mean.
I second Karen’s comment. Do not join a mom’s club. Yes, trust her on this. You will have a club of your own once she arrives. And it will be the best one out there. Camilla’s right. You WILL be blown away.