I needed help

My sister's good friend recently had twin boys. They were born at 34 weeks, at three and four pounds each. The bigger twin was allowed to go home after about ten days, but the little guy is still in the NICU until he gains more weight. This means my sister's friend - who had a... Continue Reading →

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It shouldn’t happen but it does

I went out for a mom-friend's birthday last month. I love hanging out with other parents in the evening. Everyone is just so goddamn happy to be there. We've all gone to the effort to find someone trustworthy to watch our kids, put on clothes that don't look like puke-covered garbage bags, and extricated ourselves... Continue Reading →

I was not prepared for this

I thought I'd pissed the bed when my water broke, and let's just say it was a fair assumption at that point in my pregnancy. I was taking a nap, or the third trimester equivalent of a nap, which consists of rolling around in bed like a beached whale, gagging on whatever meal you last... Continue Reading →

This is how motherhood really feels

Motherhood feels like heavy boobs, a full bladder, and hemorrhoids. It feels like bras that are too tight, hair elastics that are too loose, and granny panties that are just right. It feels like leggings. Motherhood looks like blowing raspberries on your baby's cheeks as he shrieks with laughter. It looks like pretending to gnaw... Continue Reading →

You’ll never sleep again

One of the most annoying symptoms of pregnancy - on top of the insomnia, nausea, indigestion, hemorrhoids, and tendency to piss yourself - is the open season on unsolicited advice and horror stories. As soon as my gut popped, mothers young and old were practically frothing at the mouth to tell me about the assplosions... Continue Reading →

On parenting opinions

I had a lot of parenting opinions before I actually became a parent. Here are just a few. Sleep Before: The next person to tell me "you'll never sleep again" gets slapped. I'm going to sleep train, teach self soothing, and move the baby to the nursery at three months. The notion that parents must... Continue Reading →

I am boob.

I wasn't afraid of childbirth. I was afraid of breastfeeding. In hindsight, I should have been very afraid of childbirth. It's been nine months since Sammy shot out of me like a cannonball and my franken-gyne is still carnage. I had to have minor vag surgery just last week to clean up some of his... Continue Reading →

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