There’s a couple of things I’m scared of right now.
1) Parallel universes and quantum mechanics in general. See, I’ve been watching an unhealthy amount of The Science Channel…specifically Through the Wormhole. Like, I watched 4 hour episodes and I’m desperately trying to watch them again. They are usually about how science and space will kill us. Then I spend and hour telling B about it. “B the atoms are both positive AND negative. HOW CAN THAT BE?!” If I was triple smarter than I am, I’d be a scientist. But I’m a blogger. So that went well.
2) “I Survived”. I still think a man is tracking my daily activity whilst (yep, whilst) hiding in my attic, waiting for the right moment to kill me.
-I need to watch less tv- (never)
3) my unborn child.
Ok so 3 doesn’t really fit in. Well, unless in my head #3 was planted in my uterus by my parallel self in a black hole. And I’m not that bat shit. Yet. No I’m really just afraid of what I’m in for. For those of you who have been with me since G’s birth, you know we had a hell of a time. For those who weren’t, I’ll brief you.
G was “colicky”, although I hate that word. It basically means he was a really tough ass of a baby and cried all the time and because no one knew exactly why, and they slapped that word on him. He was intolerant to everything I ate through my breast milk. He never ever NEVER slept. And on top of it all, I had post partum depression and found myself eating my own placenta, in counseling and on anxiety medication. I cried all the time. This blog became a big sad clown. And it was the hardest time of my life. And now I feel like I have a bomb in my belly.
(like Bombs over Baghdad, except pregnantier)
Am I bound for this again?
Every time that I am out in public my eyes are peeled for moms with an infant and a toddler who is G’s age. Then I stare at them inappropriately for an uncomfortable length of time. I just want to know the secret. How are they doing it? What contraptions are they using? Or is there no secret? Are the moms a giant mess? Are they crying all the time? I look very very closely for smudged mascara and swollen eyes. Usually I gain nothing from my investigation. Sometimes I see moms with kids who are G’s age who are pregnant. These moms usually get harassed directly by me.
Me: HI!!!!! How far along are you? How old is your son? Are you scared? Are you nervous? Do you have help? Are you having more after this? What’s your social security number?
Mom: Ummm…(silence) Oh I think my phone is ringing. Sorry….
Me: Oh that’s ok we’ll talk later. I’ll just follow you around until your ready.
And then strangely I don’t really ever get the answers that I was looking for. I feel like it’s a secret club that meets in a tunnel by the factory. I don’t know what factory, but that’s what I picture. It’s super secret and radio transmitters are involved. When I was pregnant with G, I thought moms had those meeting with 1 kid and I was pretty much right. Looking now at the pregs with their first kid, I’m always like, oh man you are about to go through a majah learning curve. Just making mom friends alone is 3 chapters in the secret book that we don’t let you read until you actually have the baby. None of it is fair really.
I mean let’s be honest, those books that we do actually read are useless. We’d eventually figure out how to change the baby’s damn diaper and put a bottle or a boob in their mouths, but we would not figure out how to find the mom friends who don’t constantly compare their own child to the likes of Einstein (baby version or not). We would not figure out how to shower when you’re home alone with a screaming baby for 8 hours a day. We would probably not figure out how to deal when you realize you hate your husband and every other person with a beating heart. It’s a tough world out there for the new mom and I feel like I’m about to enter it all over again, just as green as I was 2 years ago.
Now that G is older, he’s a spunky kid. He’s great, like really funny and outgoing and social. But he’s a spunk ass. He will scream at me if I don’t immediately understand his half ass sign language combination babble request for the specific banana that is at the bottom of the bowl and that he wants to hold the peel and that if I cut it up, I’m doing a serious injustice to humanity. Scream. But he’s my son and he’s just like his mom. I mean, I get it.
So how will my spunk monster handle Yoshi? Is he going to grab her tail and pull her across the room while trying to give her “kisses”? (I only have my cat to compare this to). But how am I going to handle this? Really how am I going to do this?
So this is my plea:
I know I’m not in the club yet. I know I haven’t been invited to the factory tunnel meetings yet and I didn’t get my radio transmitter in the mail yet. But maybe, MAYBE you can let me in of some of the secrets you talk about. Maybe you can tell me how I’m going to make this work with very little help, home alone all day with CHILDREN.
Also if you want to talk Science and Space with me too, I’m totally down.
Thanks Team Internet,
Any mention of a “her” or a girl baby is totally subconscious. Seems like I’m willing a vagina with my brain. Crossies. But no, we don’t know the sex yet.