Blog #3. Words you can drop into every day conversation to make your Mum friends think you’re smart.

Bravado – “And then he just rolled off the couch and didn’t shed a tear – such bravado!”

Camaraderie – “I feel such camaraderie when we all walk our prams in a row like this.”

Effeminate – “My 8 month old is not very effeminate, maybe she’ll be a tom-boy.”

Exorbitantly – “Yes goats milk is exorbitantly more expensive, but at least he’s no longer terrified to give birth to a massive log every fourth day.”

Dishevelled – “Of course I look dishevelled Frank, your daughter was up for 7 feeds last night!”

Euphemism – “The doctor said he was a portly boy, which Google says is a euphemism for chunky.”

Fiasco – “She didn’t want milk when we left home, then started screaming for it mid-grocery shop. Then my boobs leaked everywhere. Talk about a fiasco!”

Gregarious – “He is so gregarious, if we’re not including him in our conversation he fake coughs ‘til we do.”

Idyllic – “I had an idyllic view of childbirth before I went through it. It involved a lot more breathing exercises and a lot less bodily fluids.”

Insidious – “Since she’s started solids her gas is insidious – it clears a room!”

Mantra – “I have a new mantra to get me through the day: It’s only X hours until wine o’clock.”

Minimalistic – “I used to be quite minimalistic, now we’re thinking of upsizing our house to accomodate all our baby’s belongings.”

Ogle – “‘I’m up here’ I told him as he ogled my suddenly exposed breast.”

Precocious – “My son is so precocious. He was only 6 weeks old when he found his willy, now he wont leave it alone!”

Unsolicited – “Thanks so much for the unsolicited advice, but I can’t really sleep when the baby only naps for 30 minutes and the house is a shit show.”

Vicariously – “I watch my child at every Ju Jitsu, ballet and horse riding lesson because I like to live vicariously through them.”

Blog #2. “Enjoy every moment”

“Enjoy every moment.” Out of all the unsolicited advise I’ve been given, this has to take the cake for the hardest one to swallow.

For two reasons:

  1. It’s fucking hard work. Woven throughout all the amazing, beautiful moments are the difficult, soul-crushing moments that leave you feeling like a shell of a human being. No, I don’t enjoy hearing my baby wake up crying when I’ve just put my shampoo in my hair and he’s only been asleep for 15 minutes. Nor did I enjoy when my three month old baby had an unknown cow’s milk intolerance and would scream in pain for half an hour multiple times a day and I thought this is what my new life was going to be. I especially didn’t enjoy the 4 month sleep regression when my baby woke up 6-8 times a night, ravenous for my milk. Those are not the moments I will look back on fondly and wish could’ve last forever. Those are the moments (or minutes or hours) I’m glad we got through alive. They make the good times all the more sweeter. So no, geriatric lady in the Kmart aisle, I will not enjoy every god damn moment! If you think you would, you try going through the self-checkout while trying to soothe a hungry baby whose cries can be heard across the whole store. Then look me in the eye tell me it was enjoyable.
  2. Whenever someone tells me to enjoy every moment (I couldn’t begin to count the times), it is usually followed by “it goes so fast”. This reminds me of the fleetingness and fragility of life. As a new Mum, I have never thought about death so much in my nearly 30 years on earth. Mums are bombarded with propaganda about SIDS, how to safely bath your baby to avoid them slipping, how to sleep your baby so the blankets won’t suffocate them etc. A news article pops up on TV about a baby being found in a recycling bin or a child going missing on a camping trip and we are triggered. I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking about losing my baby way too often that I’d like to admit. Even looking back through the thousand-odd photos I’ve taken since Riley was born sometimes makes my chest ache. How can he have changed and grown so much in just 5 short months? Will it really all go this fast?

So please – unless someone explicitly asks you for advice, just tell them their baby is cute and move on people. And be a decent human-being and practise social distancing for god’s sake!

Blog #1. 20 things I took for granted before having a baby

  1. Being able to eat whenever I’m hungry.
  2. Being able to drink whenever I’m thirsty.
  3. Going to the toilet with the door shut.
  4. Taking a long, relaxing shower without being gawked at or praying the baby won’t wake until you’ve washed your conditioner out.
  5. Having perky boobs that don’t leak, ache and unwittingly flash strangers when your baby unlatches in public.
  6. Sleeping without the sound of white noise or the “gallop went the little green frog” song stuck in your head.
  7. Not battling your partner over who is more tired.
  8. Using two hands to complete two-handed tasks.
  9. Leaving the house without bottles, milk powder, pre-boiled water, nappies, nappy bags, wipes, change mat, toys, bibs, Bonjella, sunhat, a change of clothes, the capsule and pram…oh and the baby.
  10. Having shaved legs, straighened hair and plucked eyebrows.
  11. Starting any task knowing that there’s a 65% chance you could be interrupted at any moment, then forgetting what you were doing in the first place.
  12. Going on a stress free holiday without playing car Tetris with every thing your baby owns.
  13. Having a tidy lounge that doesn’t look like a unicorn just threw up.
  14. Not being phased about what time your partner will be home from work.
  15. Sleeping in past 7am. Even on a Sunday.
  16. Thinking that you could sleep when the baby sleeps.
  17. Wearing tops or dresses without buttons so your ravenous milk guzzler has easy access.
  18. Doing the groceries (or anything in public) without a level of urgency.
  19. Having a drink or two without clock-watching to make sure you don’t accidentally feed your baby a pina-colada.
  20. Being spontaneous.