When Brandy asked for guest posts to help her get through after the transient hobo IUD is evicted from her pelvic region, I immediately offered. The lady has a rogue piece of metal punted into her pelvis via her super strong uterus (probably not medically accurate), so even if I wasn’t inclined to do ANYTHING BwY asks (and I am, I so totally am), I would do it for my safety. She’s a tough lady 😉
In all seriousness though, I am happy to oblige so she can get the much needed rest to heal up nice and quick, so all her readers can get back to the regularly scheduled snarky education she’s got going on here. However, until then you’re stuck with me and my ranting but without useful education. You’re welcome, or I’m sorry, whichever.
For those of you who don’t know me, I am the mama to one feisty little will-be-3-in-a-few-days year old, and am currently trying (well failing) to create small human part deux. It is taking way more time than reasonable, which is a whole other topic. When I discuss this with people (all ute talk on the internet, all the time) I am often asked why we waited so long to try for #2, when #1 took 14 months to conceive, and we certainly aren’t getting any younger.
The quick answer, other than the “shut the fuck up” is this: I don’t really like infants.
There, I said it. I’ve confessed. It’s true, and I know Brandy feels quite the same way I do.
It’s not that I don’t LIKE them per se. I mean, I like other people’s infants just fine. They coo, and are squishy and smell like newborn diapers. They are helpless and confused, and they need you to both protect and enlighten them but, after about 20 minutes of that, they are kind of just succubus lumps who take take take and almost never give.
Ya, I just said it.
Perhaps it will be different with my second child, but I only have the current one to go off of. She was not an easy baby. Until 7 months old, she didn’t sleep more than 2 hours max at a time, and didn’t nap unless I was moving her. We finally resorted to letting her cry some, and things improved, but those first months are clouded by nothing but a c-section wound and rampant sleep deprived insanity.
I have claimed we are in the 1 and done category probably a million times (thanks for listening to THAT uterus, ugh) but as Everly has grown, I’ve grown as a mother. And I’ve realized something – it’s ok not to be great with the infants because that stage is so fleeting and then? You’ve got a toddler on your hands.
And I love me some toddlers.
Sure there are struggles and frustrations. They tantrum, they don’t listen, they act like jerks. They make their own choices and vocalize their displeasures. Sometimes they act like possessed drunken midgets. All of that is true, but they are also so self-sufficient and fun.
They use the potty, can get their own drinks, they tell you that they had their eye on the purple cup and not the blue one instead of just screaming. You can put them down and they don’t topple over into a grease pile in the parking lot (shut up, you’ve done it too), you can converse with them, you can talk things over, you can
bribe reward them. And for the most part, they are hilarious.
It’s just a whole new world; a wonderfully infuriating one, but a good one. There is some reciprocity. They love you back, they have pride in themselves for accomplishing things, and they begin to understand choice and consequence.
Motherhood isn’t easy at any stage I don’t think, but infancy and early babydom? Those were the hardest for me. Once we approached toddlerhood, we both fell into our rhythm. Maybe it was timing, maybe it was my articulate child, or maybe just maybe, I’m a toddler mom.
What kind of mom are you?