They Should Come With a Warning Label

When I was pregnant, everyone told me stuff about sleepless nights, teething, etc but no one prepared me for the loneliness of the job. I know, I know, your baby is company and all but, seriously, I feel so alone part of the time. Is it possible to play peek-a-boo 900 times and still act surprised that baby is there? How many times can I stack that concentric ring thing before I lose what is left of my mind?


There are times I wonder “For this I went to graduate school? A moderately well-trained orangutan could stack these things and make sure the baby does not crawl out the door. Plus, the primate would be MUCH more entertaining than me to a baby boy since they, well, throw poo and can hang from the ceiling fan.”

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not crying in my champagne (crying in beer seems way too trashy for me)... I have a lot of friends and acquaintances. However, my very dearest friends are long distance (shout out to Kim, Tom and Ody) and they do not have children (yet!). What I am missing is a local girlfriend 1) who has a baby/toddler so they will understand what I am going through and 2) who is not crazy.


I love being a mom. Well, I love being my bebe's mom (I need to quantify that because I am not so certain I would like being a mom to some babies. I always tell bebe "Momma does not do sticky or cold" but to other babies I would have to add on "Momma does not do whiney, wimpy or allergic." I think their parents are the causes of their w,w and a but, regardless, I can't cope with that. The Universe, in all its wisdom, gave me low-maintenance, great eater, happy sleeper baby for a reason. And, for that, I am amazingly and eternally grateful.


I just would like the camaraderie of someone (other that Hubby) that I can discuss the minutiae with. My besties who have older kids 1) have forgotten some of the trials and 2) don't seem shell-shocked at the whole premise of being a mom. {Honestly, there are some days that I wake up and still am surprised that I have a baby. Seriously, did I meet the requirements? Am I even remotely qualified for this? Isn't parenting for adults? Is the Take-Back-Man going to come collect him?} Plus, these women look fabulous and I feel like the wrath of God some days. {Sadly, I went out the other night and had sweet potatoes down my back. I have no idea how it happened but it was repugnant nonetheless. Furthermore, it looked like poo which is a whole new level of humiliation}.


My other deal-breaker is "no crazies." I am tired of the "My child speaks four languages!" "My baby does differential equations!" "What do you mean, your baby can't use chopsticks yet?" I just want to scream at these delusional moms "You mean to tell me that your genius child over there can speak four languages and do advanced math but is currently eating dog food off the floor?" And the chopstick-wielding baby is the same one who knocked his head on the cocktail table three times trying to stand up? I think my baby is Wile E. Coyote Supergenius too but, honestly, he is frighteningly fascinated by plastic hangers so let's be honest here.


And please don't get me started on the kids who are allergic, hyper-sensitive, lactose-intolerant, gluten-fearing and baptized in Purell. There are entire countries in Africa where the major source of protein is peanuts and you are terrified of going to a baseball game in case someone within 30 rows is eating a Crackerjack. Seriously? I see a bubble in your kid's future, Crazy Train.

What I long to shout is "Really, moms, calm down and enjoy your babies while they are still cuddly. Stop trying to turn them into something that they are not. Odds are (and I am a statistician so I know this), they are all going to survive to adulthood and be, shockingly, average. Get Over Yourselves."

Hummm, and I seem shocked that I am struggling finding a buddy?


However, if there is a new mom in Colorado who likes to lunch and is not crazy... call me!