Obsessively watch the baby monitor to make sure he’s ok and miss him terribly.
Every breath you take I’ll be watching you through the baby monitor until it runs out of batteries.
Realize that you have managed to handcuff yourself to having to be home all day, and can no longer enjoy those expensive chai tea lattes you were justifying buying because you needed to buy something at that coffee shop.
How did I escape? With difficulty. How did I plan this moment? With pleasure, and a messy top-knot.
Watch what my son touches with his hands daily (dirty diapers, the floor, grass, dirt, restaurant counter tops, etc.), then watch him put his hands in his mouth, then watch him put his mouth on my boob.
That is the only time I’m okay with you being grossed out by my breastfeeding in public, because honestly, I’m a little grossed out myself.
Fed is best, but so is not wondering about the germs your body is now covered in.
Hot tip for all the new moms out there: don’t collect all the hair you lose in the shower each day just to see how much you lose in a week. It will not be pleasant.
Hair, there, and everywhere.
Just observe the insane amount of hair you’re pulling out in clumps, as you’re 15 weeks post-partum. Ha, you thought the hair loss stories were just jokes, but it turns out your friends are legit, and you are now balding.
Now, go apologize to them and buy yourself a steak (get that iron, girl).
Hair today, gone tomorrow.
First off – and this is key – ensure your infant son hasn’t pooped in five days.
Five.
Days.
Then just head to a wedding, letting your offspring, with his tiny baby ears, overhear you say that your shirt could really use a solid dry clean.
He will immediately lose his shit (literally) over your friend’s karaoke tribute of Still Dre, and unleash five days of poo out of his butt.
He’s so sweet.
Representin’ for the gangsters all across the world, because they were tied up and couldn’t be with us here today.
Stay in a hotel. We guarantee there won’t be a fan in the bathroom, because why would you want a fan in a bathroom when the person you’re staying with is ten feet away and maybe you have to poo, or they have to poo, or someone pukes because they’re hungover or maybe you just don’t want them to hear your amazing shower rendition of Macy Gray’s I Try.
Friend, lover, or grandparent, we guarantee, this will accelerate your relationship by 15 years.
I try to say goodbye and I choke, I try to walk away but I stumble because you left your shoes in the doorway yet again.
Easy, son.
Just change your kid’s diaper during a video conference with nine other people, and get just a little too cocky, and have him pee all over you.
Life showers us with happiness. Also, sometimes, with urine.
First things first, my apologies for my extensive hiatus from this blog. I really have no excuse other than just being a bit miserable… Which delightfully segues into my post today. How to be happy as f*ck!
It’s been a tough couple of years. I was in a crap relationship and felt sad and hopeless a lot of the time. Why? Because I worried too much about literally everyone else but myself. If you’re in a crap situation you have three choices:
1. Stay in it and be miserable. Not ideal.
2. Accept it and become indifferent.
3. Change it for the better and be HAPPY as F*CK!!!
I chose three. I stopped worrying about how bad it would hurt the other person and started thinking how bad it was hurting me by staying. I stopped worrying about how upset my family would be because they loved him so much and thought, I’m with me everyday and I am unhappy, I’m with my family a small fraction of the time and if they can’t handle it well, I don’t have to deal with it nearly as much as I have to deal with myself. The second part of that is never underestimate how much your family loves you (if you have a good one!). Mine ended up being very supportive and totally chill about it. I worried about money, and being on my own, I worried about his traditional family and how they would treat him… It was a non stop crap storm of worry.
Until one day, the ball started rolling. The conversation was had. The relationship was ending and a ray of sunshine burst through the clouds of crap. It was instantaneous from hopeless worrying to looking forward to the future.
So the moral of this blog post is do what you want, do what you NEED, to do to be happy. Because life sucks when you aren’t.
Oh God, can someone please tell me? Is it tonsillitis? Is it strep? It’s strep, isn’t it.
“Laughter is the best medicine. The second best medicine is medicine.”
The Average Girl's "How To" Guide 