This is called proactive blog writing, folks.
Since my hubs and I started (well, restarted) OohBother, we’ve traded off writing posts each week. Partially so that one of us didn’t end up carrying more of the workload, but mostly to give you readers the sincere pleasure of getting an equal look inside each of our needlessly cynical minds. So, you’re welcome.
But this week is different. This week, if God has a shred of grace left in His heart for me, I will be having a baby. And, well dear readers, there is no way in hell I am writing for you people immediately after that. No offense.
According to modern science, our newest little bundle of joy should make his debut tomorrow. Now, you know as well as I that there is no way this child is going to show up on time. That would be far too convenient. No, my money is on him leisurely making his way down the birth canal sometime Wednesday or Thursday.
“Oh, that’s not so bad!” you say. “A day or two late? That’s nothing!”
You shut your mouth right now. Hey! I said, shut it.
Friends, I am here to tell you that I am done. Done with heartburn ricocheting up and down my esophagus. Done with accidentally knocking over the shampoo bottles in the shower with my massive belly. And done with peeing every twenty minutes – especially the part where I tinkle a little bit in my underwear. Just call me Tony Siragusa.
Yeah, I’m done with allllllllll of that
Sure, sleepless nights, milk-stained shirts and poop (oooooh the poop!) will take the place of my current afflictions, but because the grass is always greener, I couldn’t care less. I am so excited to meet our new little man that I have slipped into a complete state of denial about how deliriously exhausted I’m going to be and choose to feel only blissful excited over his impending arrival.
It’s my professional opinion as a mother that this coping mechanism is the only reason women are still having children. Because God knows, if we allowed ourselves to really remember what it’s like to be pregnant/give birth/keep a newborn alive, the Earth would be vastly under-populated.
So we kid ourselves (pun intended). We say that this time, it will be different. That we are stronger now, better equipped – and we’re wrong. We will be just as tired, just as frustrated, just as clueless.
But it will be just as worth it.
Did you pee your pants too? (or something similar?) We wanna hear about it and feel better about ourselves.