Dear Judgey McKnows-It-All,
Right now, your due date is approaching, and you’re hyper
focusing on a lot of insignificant stuff. I wish you knew that none of what you
are worrying about matters. What you need to do is go to bed now and sleep
until the baby comes. It could be your last chance to sleep for a few
uninterrupted hours for the rest of your life.
What’s that you say? You’re not sleeping well because the
pregnancy is making you so uncomfortable? Think again my friend. Soon you will
be lying awake at 3 am in a pool of baby vomit, but you won’t want to move a
muscle for fear of waking your precious little bundle of “sleeps when held.”
While we are on the topic of useless shit (pun intended)
that you are obsessing over, it seems as though you are sitting around
wondering if you’ll poop on the table during delivery. Guess what? When the
time actually comes, you won’t care if fecal matter ends up on the ceiling as
long as they get that baby the hell out of you faster than a teenage boy gets
off on the latest Victoria’s Secret catalog.
Oh, and that book you’re reading on natural birth? Quit
wasting your time with it and pick up a copy of What the F*ck Do I Do with this
Baby? because once you’re actually in labor, you’ll tap out at three
centimeters and beg for curbside epidural service as you pull into the
hospital. Besides, the delivery is only one day, and the baby will be here for
a l-i-f-e-t-i-m-e. Your time would be better spent learning something about
child rearing rather than practicing breathing techniques that will do nothing for
the pain, although, they might come in handy for your first bowel movement post
childbirth.
On another note, you seem to have a lot of opinions on
parenting right now, but you will quickly realize that you have no idea what
you’re doing which reminds me that I should warn you about the b*tch that Karma
is. For all of the judgments you make now about other people’s parenting
techniques, you will be sentenced to a lifetime of mom guilt laden thoughts.
So, keep judging your friend who leaves her kids at daycare an extra hour so
she can shop or cook by herself. In just a few short months, you will find
yourself wishing daycare was open on weekends too. And the woman you saw at the
grocery store in the frozen foods aisle whose nipples were pointing in different
directions? Nice job criticizing her to your husband. Karma is about to replace
your tots with 2 National Geographic style tube socks each holding a teeny,
tiny ping-pong ball.
So, have that extra slice of cheesecake now while you’re
still delusional. You think you are all belly, but it’s going straight to your
ass. And, by the way, you won’t be one of those lucky women who loses weight
from breastfeeding. You will be the mom whose kid shows up everyday for
preschool without his folder, mismatching clothes, and maybe even a little bit
of food still on his face while you’re wearing a moo moo not fit for your
grandmother. Memories of a daily shower will seem as magical as monkeys flying
out of your a$$ and serving you mojitos on the white sands of Maui. Soon, going
to the dentist will be the most relaxing thing you have time for. You will see.
After the baby is born, between caring for him, your new
found realization of what a dipsh*t your husband can be, and your post partum
hormones, you will be so overwhelmed that you’ll start popping birth control
like skittles just to make sure you don’t have a second child. Then, one night
over a box of Franzia’s finest, you’ll find yourself just loopy enough to do it
again.
There is only one thing that will get you through the
stretch marks, the puke stains, and the depression over your saggy post birth
vagina – the love that, right now, you are unaware even exists.
So hold onto your mom jeans and try not to wet your
pants while you still have some level of bladder control – this ride is just
beginning. Stop being a judgmental b*tch and start supporting other moms.
You’re going to need them once you realize that you don’t have a f**king clue
what you’re doing…
Love, Me
