... how important poop would be. And how many ways there are to describe it to your pediatrician.
... how victorious you feel if you not only get to shower and brush your teeth that day, but bonus points if your hair and face look presentable.
... how much you could feel victorious on above-mentioned bullet point, yet still manage to find some sort of spit-up, dried milk, or poop on you once you've left the house. Usually it's all three.
... how you could read 1,498 books on parenting before your precious babe gets here, but nothing can fully prepare you for how to raise your own unique little one.
... how perfectly silly you become. The other night H and I literally ballroom danced in the bedroom to Beauty and the Beast's "Tale as Old as Time" which was on abc family. I sang. I twirled. I looked like a fool. He loved it. And I'm sure it was pivotal in his cognitive development.
... how the "Pregnancy Police" wouldn't disappear, just transform into the "Baby Police." These plainsclothed officers of the Baby Jurisdiction want to point out every little thing you're doing or not doing, just as they did when you were preggo.
... how your body becomes a sort of community property. This first happened when preggers, when complete strangers want to rub your belly, inquire about your weight gain, or let you know "You're not that big." or "Your cankles aren't that gross." Upon Delivery Day, you really do lose all sense of modesty. That day, it got to a point where I'm pretty sure every single nurse checked out my progress with the too small pelvis. Now, with precious babe in tow, it hasn't stopped.
... how much you depend on the Mommy Club. Alas, this point was made ever-so-clear at my Reunion this weekend. We might not have seen each other in 10 years, but by George we were comfortable enough to talk about labor and delivery, b-feeding, weaning, and other Mommy Club issues. I loved it.
... how much my parents love me. It hit me like a lighting bolt one early morning as I was wiping Little Man's bottom whilst still smiling at his cuteness. And I realized my parents had done the same thing with me. I may or may not have been instantly shameful for those sassy teenage years. It's humbling, that's for sure.
... how much you could love someone. I now watch the News differently and am thinking about wrapping H in bubble wrap and home schooling him until he's 18.
.... and - how much others could love your child. I see it in H's grandparents' eyes when they hold him and make silly faces and voices at him. The way H's aunts and uncles clamor to get some snuggle time in. The way our friends' drop everything to pitch in like he was their own. And - most importantly - the way your heart literally glows when you see your husband napping with your child, talking baby talk in the recliner, or giving him a bath. Sometimes me thinks my heart just might burst...
Two Holidays and a Baptism
2 years ago