So You’re Having A Baby…

Hmm…I think I need to have a talk with you about this baby thing…

Bundle of joy coming your way soon? Is the diaper bag all packed and ready for the hospital? Nursery all set up? Newborn clothes hung neatly in the closet?

Sweet! You’re ready!

Right?

Maybe not? Well, here’s the lowdown. The things you really need to know about having a baby. Toss aside that What to Expect While Your Gut’s Exploding and Your Cervix is on Fire and Your Boobs Throb and Burn like Giant Blazing Orbs of Terror and You Swear to God You’re Gonna Hit the Man that Did This to You Over the Head With this Damn Book, book.

I’m gonna give it to you straight, first-timer. You can trust me. The following facts are coming from a mom who has endured ten years of loaded diapers, leaky bottles, breastfeeding fiascoes, postpartum depression, asthma, colic, croup, never-ending ear infections, and night terrors (mostly mine).

These are the things that will change once you have a baby:

  • Your house will smell like poop.

You may go out and drop some serious cash on a Diaper Genie. You may think this will somehow magically dispel the noxious waste that will be sitting there for days. You will be wrong. And you will fight over taking turns to empty it. The diaper pail almost ruined my marriage. When my youngest was finally potty trained, my husband and I were so ecstatic, we renewed our vows. At the end of the ceremony, we set fire to the diaper pail and danced around it naked under the moonlight. Nothing says romance and freedom like flaming poop.

FREEEEEEEE-DOOOOOOM!

Oh, you’re using cloth diapers instead? Yeah, I did too, for a time. Poop. Poop everywhere. On the floor and in your hair. Poop on your socks. Poop on your smocks. In the washer, on your hands. I do not like this Sam I am, I do not like green poop and ham. Sorry…where was I? Oh, yeah. Basically, your days will be an endless slog through poop. And you’ll find yourself discussing your precious Miracle of Life’s bowel movements anywhere, anytime.

“Oh, God! It was horrifying! You should have seen it! It was blue! The poop was blue! And brown! With a little pea-soup green mixed in! It was so nasty! And chunky! And it was this huge amount too! Like someone had dumped a bucket of elephant dung down my baby’s back!”

“Yeah…that’s….great. Uh…can you pass me the baked beans, please?”

  • Strangers will come up to you constantly.

From the time you’re pregnant, to the time your child is a terrible two, everyone on the street will want to approach you. Grandmas are the worst. They’ll come at your baby with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. “OH! He’s SOOOO cute!” Soon cheeks will be pinched, germy hands will be poking chins and bellies. Arm yourself with a giant bottle of Purell. Threaten to throw it at them. It’ll be okay. Once your baby is three and throwing a massive tantrum in aisle 9 of the Stop-n-Go, no one will ever want to go near your child again.

I double dog dare ya to try and pinch my cheeks now, Grandma!
  • Suddenly everyone is a parenting expert.

No matter how you decide to raise your baby, there will always be someone ready to tell you that you are wrong.

“Oh, you’re formula-feeding? Well, that’s bad for the baby!”
“So, you’re nursing? Oh, that’s terrible!”
“Binky? It’ll ruin his teeth!”
“Thumb sucking? He’ll be in therapy!”
“Co-sleeping? She’ll be in your bed forever!”
“Wait! Come back! Why are you running away? I didn’t get to tell you how you’re ruining your child’s life forever because you’re not feeding her organic alfalfa sprouts mixed with guava juice and your own saliva!”

Here comes the vile green choo-choo train! Eat it up or you’ll never get into Harvard!
  • You’ll find yourself doing gross things.

Sticking your entire face in your baby’s butt to smell if they’ve pooped or peed. Licking a warm brown spot to see if it’s poop or chocolate. Licking your finger to clean off dried bananas on your baby’s face. Then tasting it to make sure it’s banana, not poop. Reaching into your baby’s nose to extract a crusty booger. Digging around in their nostrils like a mama monkey picking nits off her baby. You’ll do all these things in public. At a restaurant. You won’t even care. If it’s disgusting, you’ll do it without batting an eye. You’re a parent now. You’ll be scooping puke out of car seats, changing diapers on top of trash cans at gas station bathrooms, whipping your boob out at Target to feed your screaming baby as nipple pads flutter to the floor in some twisted ticker tape parade. Days of modesty are long gone now. Welcome to survival mode.

Aha! Hold still, I think I see a booger!
  • You’ll do anything for sleep.

My firstborn never slept. My second baby slept much better–sometimes five hour stretches at the age of two months. I’ve seen both sides of the sleep spectrum. I’ve been to hell and back. As a newborn, my son slept an hour if we were lucky. Naturally, we did anything to get him to fall asleep. We sang, hummed, hushed, cooed. We wrapped him in a blanket burrito, bounced him, rocked him, walked in slow circles while hushing and humming the theme to Three’s Company. At one point, we took turns driving him in our car around the block over and over at all hours of the night. Severely sleep deprived, the turning point came at 2 am one night when I saw Mr. Furley standing in my kitchen using my breast pump. This stuff happens. I’m not trying to scare you. Just remember to get, at least, a solid block of four hours sleep, trust me on this one.

Get some sleep soon or this man will haunt your dreams forever.
  • You’ll be so in love, it hurts.

Oh yeah, that baby of yours will steal your heart, rip it right out of your chest, and hold it in their chubby little hands. Pieces of it will break off over time. This is when you realize all the above is worth it. Or that God really did make babies cute, sweet, and lovable for a reason.

As my husband once eloquently put it (after another sleepless night with our newborn son),
“Can we take him back to the hospital? Just for a few hours, so we can get some sleep?”

She’s pretty dang sweet, isn’t she? She still hasn’t given my heart back yet.

So congratulations on the new addition to your family! Savor every moment. Forgive yourself for others. You’ll make mistakes. The first baby is just for practice anyway. You’ll get the hang of it, hopefully by your second or third.

And I’ll be here for any parenting advice.

My best advice: Don’t listen to anyone’s advice, especially mine.

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113 thoughts on “So You’re Having A Baby…

    1. Is it bad that I already look forward to being a Gram? I think about it often. I figure I only have about 15 to 20 years until that day comes. The way time is zooming, it’ll be here before I know it.

  1. Oh God, I can’t get past all the poop! “I do not like this Sam I am, I do not like green poop and ham.” <– That made me crack up though. Well, the whole thing did, and then you went ahead and got all sweet and motherly at the end. ๐Ÿ˜‰ I think you're pretty good at the whole advice thing.

    1. Thanks Lily. I had to get all sweet at the end. I didn’t want people to not have babies because of all the poop horror stories. You get used to it after a few weeks. Now that gross stuff doesn’t phase me in the least (good thing I’m becoming a nurse).

  2. This is so accurate that it should be required reading for every parent–and your end note about the eternal love is so true and that is why we go through all the other stt. It has been almost two decades since I have had to deal with most of this stuff and I remember it like it was yesterday. When my boys were potty trained it was like all the celebrations on earth put together–seriously. I asked my doctor about my oldest when I was trying to potty train and expressed the thought that he may be going to school in a diaper, and the doc (with his lovely sense of humour) said, :Well I have not seen anyone in high school not potty trained. Yeah, well, thanks doc!
    Anyway this was just great and I think you should make sure it is seen by every parent on earth and every 14 year old girl!

    1. I think you’re right, you’ll never forget those early days of being a first time parent. To say it’s life-changing is putting it mildly.

      My daughter wore diapers until she was four. Yep. Just for number two but still. I thought she would be wearing them to her wedding. Thankfully, my pediatrician was right, eventually she would ditch them. ๐Ÿ˜‰

      1. I didn’t have my first until I was 32. I couldn’t imagine having a baby in my 20s. I’ll have to write a post on being an ‘advanced age’ mom. I had my daughter at 36. Granted, I’m tired as hell now, but it all works out.

  3. Parenting books should all have subtitle: “There will be Poop”. Love this – very accurate (although I really didn’t have the sleep issues – I was very lucky). Colic nearly did me in, though.

    Being a grandparent is much, much easier. I am waiting impatiently for my 6th grandchild (due date was yesterday).

    1. My son had colic and other stomach issues that contributed to the sleep issues (pyloric stenosis) But on the plus side, going through all that hell prepared us for the worst when my second baby came along. Then when she actually slept GREAT almost right away (good solid 5 hour stretches even though I was breastfeeding) Jim and I were over the moon with joy. We had no idea babies could sleep like that! My daughter was a PIECE OF CAKE compared to my son.

  4. This is the greatest parenting advice I have ever read. I wish this existed when I gave birth so I could have avoided feeling insane when each book told me that everything the other books told me would result in the death of my child.

    The Mr. Furley sighting had me in tears.

    1. Ha! exactly. In my desperation, I had about 10 different books on sleep advice alone. None of them helped me. Well, they did make me feel like a failure as a parent because I wouldn’t let my baby cry it out, or because I did let them cry it out. Those books made a lovely bonfire along with the poopy diapers though.

      1. I have so many parenting books that people bought me. They bought them out of love, but I’d really like to burn every last one of them… Perhaps when we finally get Rosie out of diapers we’ll have a bonfire.

  5. I. do. not. miss. the. poop!

    Off to see my grandbabes today and, like someone else, said, that is far easier — Nana’s my name, spoilin’s my game. As in spoil ’em with lots of time, trips down every toy aisle (not just one), answering endless questions and playing multiple games of Sorry where I will always, most certainly, lose to a 7 year old ๐Ÿ™‚

    Great post!
    MJ

  6. As a relatively young grandparent, I can still recall those poop-filled days and nights. Learning to breathe through your mouth ONLY really helped. The whole sleep deprivation part was brutal. I got to the point where I could acheive REM sleep in the time it took for the light to turn green again.

    As an aside, my oldest grandkid is nearing the age where I’ll be able to fart loudly and blame her, thus continuing a treasured family tradition.

    1. Love the REM at the red light. I used to sleep sitting up on the couch with the baby nestled in my arms. I used to sleep with my eyes open like a zombie. They always tell a mom to sleep when the baby sleeps and that was the ONLY advice I took seriously.

      Good to know that with grandkids comes a new method of farting and getting away with it.

  7. Hilarious! I like how you give poop a whole new dimension when it comes to infants! I am sure it wasn’t your intention, but this post reinforced my decision not to ever have kids ๐Ÿ™‚

    1. I used to swear I’d never have kids. As in, never, ever, ever, never. I was 30 before something switched in my mind and I said, let’s do this. But I can totally see if someone doesn’t want to have kids, I get that for sure.

  8. Aaaaah! I love this so much! All of it, but especially the “first baby is just for practice” bit. I was the test run in my family. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    A dog trainer once tried giving me parenting advice at a restaurant. She was concerned that Li’l D was playing with sugar packets, so told me I needed to remove the sugar packets. She knew, she told me, because she was a dog trainer “and they’re pretty much the same.”

    Instead of addressing the multiple fallacies in her statement, or the fact that allowing my son to quietly play with sugar packets at our table meant he wasn’t running around and hollering while grabbing them off other tables, I simply said: “Wow, unsolicited parenting advice. How unique.”

    1. This is what kills me the most. Perfect strangers coming up to you to give you their genius parenting advice. Especially people that don’t have kids. Oh, that is the most ridiculous. My son was so hyper in restaurants, he was like a hurricane. It wasn’t because we were ‘bad’ parents. It was because that was how he was wired! So we gave him sugar packets too. We’d give him ANYthing to get him to sit there in his chair for just five seconds! I remember bolting down our food, or my husband would eat in a hurry first, then take our son outside. And the disapproving looks of other people! How quick people are to judge. If I see a child having a tantrum in a public place now, I always give the mom a “I’ve been there, done that” smile.

      1. Both my boys were ADHD and live wires. Some of our meals were put in to-go containers straight from the kitchen because we could see a meltdown coming and wanted to spare everyone…I’ve given plenty of those smiles and words of encouragement – and even offered to help one young mom with 2 toddlers and an out of control kicker/screamer in the canned goods aisle. Advice is usally worth what you pay for it…

    2. A dog trainer? Wow! Usually I get advice from people who are far enough removed from raising their own kids that I’m convinced they don’t remember what it’s really like. Also, it seems almost universal that it’s much harder to shock or offend someone who’s had boys.

      Darla, the pictures on this post are priceless, especially the bottom one!

  9. So funny! You know this is exactly on my/our mind down here. Daughter #2 and SIL took not even week old infant to the doctor yesterday. He hadn’t pooped or peed in two days. Yep, two days he had a clean diaper. So they stripped him down for the doctor to examine him and whoosh…a geiser! So if this ever happens to anybody out there…strip them down to a blast of cool air. This might save you a trip to the doctor’s office.

    1. For what it’s worth, the best piece of advice Ba.D. and I received–indeed, the only one we listened to–was: “People talk so much about all the crap you’re going to face. What they don’t talk about is that you hardly notice that most the time in the face of love unlike anything you’ve ever known before.” The kindly couple who offered that was right, so right.

      1. Love that advice, Deb. Yes–Love>poop!

        And people always told me to savor the baby time and I look back now and actually miss it, can you believe that? A little baby wrapped his arms around my legs just last week while I was standing in line and this mama love just washed over me. Good thing we have that built in.

      1. Right now we’re wading through the alarmist, contradictory “instructions.”

        When changing a diaper, make sure the baby is oiled to prevent chafing, but the baby must be completely dry or she’ll have horrible problems, but never use powder or she’ll instantaneously develop life-long respiratory problems.

        So… oiled but dried but not powdered, any deviation leads to life-long misery… got it.

      2. You are going to be fine…I think most first time parents want an instruction manual, but trusting instincts is usually the right course of action. I have never enjoyed a job so much as that of being a parent. I probably never screwed up any job as much, either. But thankfully, nothing major.

      1. I certainly had Mr. B in mind when I wrote parts of it. The breastfeeding parts, not so much directed at him. (I have a friend who is also due with her first baby this fall) Unless he invests in one of those fake boob dispensers like Robert De Niro had in the movie Meet the Parents.

  10. My firstborn was the worst sleeper too. We brought our daughter home from the hospital and she slept 23 hours the first day and 22 the second. That was heaven! She was so much better at that. And poop. One child pooped six times a day. Now they’re in school and I still have to wipe butts sometimes. There is no end! When do you draw the line? When there’s hair on it?? Great post.

    1. I often wonder if my second slept better just because it was in her genes, or she slept better because we weren’t so nervous about her sleeping habits in the first place?
      I laughed at your comment about wiping butts. I FINALLY stopped doing that just this year. But once in awhile, my five year old daughter will walk up to me and ask me to wipe her butt. And I’m like, “Get out of town! Aren’t we past that now??”

  11. No one warned me about the constant comparing…Our kids are part of the over-achiever generation that is going to the Olympics, professional sports, or an Ivy league school! I raised my kids with so little information. I used the ancient Dr. Spock book for God’s sake which was already in its 100th edition! Some how they survived…

      1. Hey my son just got a job at Johnny Carino’s (an hour ago) as a sauce chef! Woohoo! How’s that for a kid who hardly ate his sophomore year since he had to cook for himself. Now he makes the most extraordinary dinners! There is always hope.
        He has one more year of college….

  12. So much WORD to all of this. My first was a miserable sleeper. After about 2 months of sleep deprivation and one endless sleepless night of constant breast feeding, I had a major breakdown at dawn, with hysterical crying jags. My husband (who had slept all night) commanded that I go to bed immediately and sleep for hours while he dealt with the baby. If I had the energy, I might have run away that morning. I’m glad I stayed.

    My second slept through the night by 6 weeks, which was heaven compared to the over 6 MONTHS it took my oldest. But it was definitely easier with the second. I felt like a total pro and was so much more relaxed about the whole deal.

    But there was still a ton of poop. And puke.

    1. I remember how amazed I was that our second slept at all. She actually slept a good chunk of time almost within a few months and I was still exclusively breastfeeding at the time. We just thanked our lucky stars she wasn’t like her older brother, who refused to sleep at all (he suffered from severe reflux and colic/stomach issue, poor guy…) He didn’t sleep until he could sit up by himself (I think around 6 months) because then his reflux disappeared. We used to have to prop him up on an incline in his crib, oh lordy that was fun.

  13. I hated the baby stage. HATED IT. It’s okay to hate it. TechSupport is now 13. He is beyond cool. Geek-chic. I do not miss the diaper bag, but when I start to realize that he is going to be out of our house in 5 years and off to college, I find myself wishing for sippy cups and goldfish crackers.

    But then I snap out of it.

    1. Ha! Yes! I hear you, Renee. I certainly wasn’t a big fan of the newborn stage. The first month or so I could do without. My favorite stage was from 9 months to when the terrible twos begin (which for my kids began at like, 18 months)

    1. Thanks! The top photo is my daughter rockin’ her little mohawk. The last photo is her as well. I didn’t have many of my son as a baby because believe it or not, we didn’t own a digital camera then! (this was way back in the old days around 2002…)

  14. i want to meet the person that coined the phrase “bundle of joy”. Just one punch…that’s all….
    and yes…being a grandparent is WAAAAAYYYYYY easier…the love and pain are no less, but at least you are not responsible for the outcome.

  15. John Erickson says:

    Now, you didn’t mention that great palliative, a shot of whiskey to make the kid sleep. After all, my mother did that with me as a baby, and I turned out PERFECTLY normal… ๐Ÿ˜ฏ

  16. Ahhh, the memories you bring back. Yes, the total sleep deprivation, the poop, the trying to get a NICU baby to nurse for weeks, the weeks that turned into months of screaming baby (eventually diagnosed with reflux), the not eating out from the kid’s ages 2-5, having to diaper with the kid standing up from about 10 mos. old because he absolutely would not lie down for it without going bezerk, and having him be in diapers until he was 4 1/3 years old. And truthfully, except for the sleep deprivation, that has been the easy stuff. But I’d throw myself in front of a bus for this kid (and almost did throw myself in front of a Suburban for him once). Great, and hilarious post. Thanks for the laughs!

    1. Oh, I wanted to share the best parenting advice I got- from a NICU nurse who, ironically, never had children of her own. She told me that doctors and nurses have training and know about babies and illnesses, but I will be the one who will know MY child the best. I will be the expert of my baby. She was so right. If my gut tells me something, I listen to it- after all, it saved my baby before he was even born.

    2. Oh yeah. I forgot about the ‘not wanting to lie down for a diaper change’ thing. I have to say, having had one boy and one girl, the girls are easier in the beginning. My daughter was always easy when it came to changing her, she’d just lay there and patiently wait. She practically could have changed herself! My son? Oh holy guacomole, he was a terror and a half.

    1. I always feel for a parent of a child who is hyperactive because my son was extremely active. I understand how hard it is to go out in public and have people judging your parenting skills when they don’t even know the whole situation.

  17. Right now, I can’t even think about having kids. It’s not the drool and the poop, although that’s daunting. I don’t think I’m ready to be responsible for the intellectual and moral development of another human being. I keep thinking of a zillion ways I’ll screw it up.
    I like how you say it matter-of-factly: your house will smell like poop. Plain and simple.
    Booger hunting and cleaning dried banana with saliva cracked me up. Kudos to you for handling it well. Hope I can be mature about it when it happens to me.
    Nice post.

    1. That’s exactly it, once the hard physical labor of the poop/drool stage is over, then comes a whole other set of issues you have to deal with–specifically, raising our kids to be caring and considerate of others–the biggest task of them all! Really, you just trade one phase for another and it never really gets easier (until they move out and marry..I’m hoping…)

  18. Maternal Instinct is provided to prevent women from eating their own young. I believe this. The early days can be daunting. You made them less so, in fact you did a great job of making them funny and then proving love overcomes all of it. I laughed all the way through this.

  19. Great post. It’s fun to read your work again. WP kicked me off a bunch of blogs I was following and I’m slowing putting them back together. Thanks for coming over to mine.

    PS, what’s the deal with the ad at the bottom of your blog. I saw the exact some one on another blog this morning. Did you put that there, or did WP?

    1. Hey, Stacie! Same thing happens to me, reader is on the blink…and I was visiting someone else’s blog (maybe Bharat’s?) and I saw your comment and clicked my way over. I’ve got to catch up on your blog!

      That little ad is WordAds that I applied for last week. I am hoping to get the 3 bigger banner ads on my blog instead of the little one within the post soon.

  20. Ah HAH! So THIS was the post. I don’t know what’s scarier though – this or Steve King ๐Ÿ˜‰ I have had so many booger/poop moments from working with special needs kids, nieces, nephews, etc., and can imagine ALL decorum goes out the window with your own kids!

    And J rips MY heart out every time I see a picture of her! How do you stand it? She is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen. Don’t tell anyone else I said that though. Especially not B. We’ve got to wait and see on kidneybean. You never know. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    1. I think this post is much scarier than anything Steve-o King could cook up.

      Isn’t Miss Jules the sweetest thang?? I look at photos of her as a baby, especially the ones of her when she was a toddler in little overalls and her hair in a bow and I get all misty-eyed.

      We’ll have to see how kidneybean measures up. I have a feeling the lil’ babe will be a cutie.

  21. Great post, Darla! That’s how I felt about being a Mom. A few Hallmark moments and a whole lot of stinky, sticky reality!

    By the way, every time I click on your blog, I marvel at the photo you have as your banner. It’s beautiful.

    1. Oh, thanks, Lorna! That photo is one of my faves. I took that last winter when the sky was just breathtaking. Right in my backyard we get the best sunsets. That is the little farm on the hill behind our house. this is the entire photo:

  22. You crack me up!! I am so glad my baby days are behind me. And the picture of Julia… wow. What a beautiful girl, Darla. I read this and I couldn’t help but think…. Darla is missing her baby girl… the one that started school. Ugh. Makes me weepy. Way to turn tears to laughter. ๐Ÿ™‚

  23. Possibly my favorite Maineiac line EVER: whipping your boob out at Target to feed your screaming baby as nipple pads flutter to the floor in some twisted ticker tape parade

    It is a perfect metaphor for how parenthood screws up your life. And of course, I’ve seen this happen. It’s usually those trashy women in Walmart, though.

      1. You know, maybe it’s ’cause I never had kids, but as a guy, I don’t see the big problem with exposed boobs. Shoot, 3/4 of the Internet is dedicated to just that, so you shouldn’t feel bad about making your contribution to this key part of our economy! ๐Ÿ˜‰
        (I can say that now – the wife just left for work. Thank GOD she doesn’t know about us…. ๐Ÿ˜€ )

        1. Just so you know, it was going to be VERY complementary, but everything I could think to say pegged the needle on my “creep-o-meter”. That, and the wife was due home, and cool as she is with my hanging out with beautiful ladies online, well … I didn’t feel like pushing my luck uphill. With a rope. On rollerskates……. ๐Ÿ˜€

  24. Mr. Furley – bwa ha ha ha!
    SO true and so funny and so scary to the unaware. I couldn’t believe such noxious substances could come out of such adorable packages!
    p.s. Your sweetie patootie is a doll.

  25. This will not be my usual sarcastic, highly witty comment.

    I absolutely LOVED the baby stage. There is NOTHING better than holding a baby. Even ones that aren’t my own. Boy, sounds like I steal babies. I don’t, just to be very clear.

    Wow, I still went all-sarcastic and witty. Dammit!

  26. This is going to seem like smoke-blowing and totally over the top, but I absolutely mean it.

    THIS IS YOUR BEST POST EVER!

    And not just because of the poop. Which by the way was the funniest crap I’ve ever read about crap.

    1. Best comment ever. Thank you–That means A LOT coming from you. Also, thank you for almost saying ‘smoke blowing up your ass’ but not going there.

      But you get me. You really get me. This was the kind of rare post that comes out of thin air and basically writes itself. I had inspiration (B-man) and funny things just poured out of me in a nonstop torrent of writing… much like when my son had a big blow-out of diarrhea after he drank too much soy milk. Sorry, I had to use SOME kind of poop analogy, right? But yeah. This was one of my favorite posts I’ve ever written, to be honest with you. I had an absolute blast writing it. I am not surprised you picked up on that.

      1. Yes, we so get each other. *motioning with two fingers toward my eyeballs and then toward your eyeballs, but not like in a way that would appear I’m going to Three Stooges you*

  27. My youngest looked like Don King – lots of black hair standing up everywhere. This was absolutely hilarious and totally true. Occasionally I’ll follow the 12 year old around and scream JUUUUUUUUUICE! She used to do that to me as a toddler, waving her sippy around like it was last call.

    1. Don King! Ha! My daughter’s mohawk got worse the older she got, I tried to tame it but eventually just gave in and slapped a giant pink bow on it.
      Your last call comment is so true–my husband and I often want to just yell out BEER! BEER! BEEEEEER! when my 10 year old son walks by like he used to do when he wanted apple juice.

  28. This is pretty much the best thing I’ve ever read. I think you’re watching my life through an open window. This would normally be disturbing, but I’m going to go with awesome because I need all the advice I can get in this baby-raising thing.

  29. Forty odd years ago, some old fart collard me in the street and coochie cooed my toddler son and baby boy. โ€˜Enjoy them while you can, dear,โ€™ she said. โ€˜Theyโ€™re all grown up before you know it.โ€™ If Iโ€™d had a decent braincell left that wasnโ€™t sleep deprived, I would have responded with a tart, โ€˜Canโ€™t come too soon for me, lady.โ€™ Seems like nothing’s changed. (coochie coo)

  30. Hahaha! Darla, it was so worth waiting two months to read this post. Thank goodness I didn’t just delete old post notifications and start from scratch! I WOULD HAVE MISSED THE POOP!!! Maybe this post is doubly hilarious because I don’t have children. Taste-testing brown spots to see if they’re chocolate or poop? PRICELESS!!

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