There is an infinite number of mind boggling things about
motherhood. Firstly, how can you grow a
human INSIDE ANOTHER HUMAN!??! That just
doesn’t make sense. How can that
possibly be a viable form of reproduction.
Yeast…budding…look there’s a lump on my side that is about to become
another one of me exactly like me…sure, why not? Makes sense. You could be all “Hey little bud dude, how’s
it going over there? Ready to split off?
Not yet? No worries! Take your time!” Eggs.
Sure! Little self-contained
nugget of reproduction…I can handle that.
Sit on it all day to keep it warm?
Sure, I GUESS I can suffer through ALL the offerings that Netflix has to
offer, except, you know, for those times that I get to get up and go to the
bathroom with a bladder that is STILL ENTIRELY MY OWN, not squashed by a human
living in a water balloon in my stomach.
Mammalian reproduction pretty much sucks. I have a four month black out surrounding the
last two months off gestation and the first two months of life surrounding all
three of my children (because HOW COULD YOU NOT!?) but I do remember saying to
my midwife “This is a stupid way to reproduce!!!” while I was on all fours and
in the middle of pushing out baby number two.
(The fact that there is a baby number three is evidence of the
effectiveness of that four month memory wipe surrounding the birth of all my
children). I also recall saying “Why am
I having another baby! I don’t know what
to do with the babies I already have!” while baby #3 was being born, and
apparently I used the word fuck so many times that my midwife thought the only
way to get through to me was to tell me “Oh you’re having a fucking baby.
You’re having a fucking baby right fucking now.”
But that’s not actually what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about another completely
mind boggling thing about mothering which is that all your kids are completely
different from one another. Same
variables. Same raw materials. Completely different. There is no such thing as an experienced
mother because they change the goddamn rules with every single kid!! NOT FAIR.
So let me introduce you to the “baby” of the family. First of all…female child. That’s new!
That’s different. You know the
number of times that she’s peed on the toilet seat? ZERO.
What is up with standing to pee?
BOYS INVENTED THAT!! They’re like
“HEY! You know what this thing looks
like? A HOSE!! You know what you can do with a hose?” Well apparently the answer is write your name
on the bathroom wall, if the amount of pee that I have wiped off of things is
any indication. There has not been a
single day in the last 8 years where I was not in immediate contact with
someone else’s piss. THEY DON’T TELL YOU THAT IN HEALTH CLASS! Just because you have a penis doesn’t mean
that sitting down to pee isn’t a fucking great idea, that’s all I’m
saying. Start a revolution. Sit your boys on the toilet…done. World peace.
Youngest child. You know
what? She’s learned ALL the tricks from
all the other children. Baby number one
at bedtime? His head hits the pillow and
he is out like you flipped a switch.
Head, pillow, eyelids BOOM. He
sleeps like he’s on a timer. 10.5 hours
and BING! Eyes open and he is ready to
torment his siblings and make fart jokes like it’s his goddamn job until 8:45pm
when his clock winds down and the recharge cycle begins. Child number 2? He gives a few half hearted
attempts to squeeze me for a sip of water, a snuggle, one final chance to hose
the bathroom with his piss…but really his heart isn’t in it. He’s tired.
He WANTS to give in to the void.
After all tomorrow is another day, full of chances to throw temper
tantrums about completely random shit like not having his toast on the right
plate, or needing a GREEN lego!!!!!
Child number 3? She
who is doomed to be the baby forever because this child factory has been shut
DOWN? She has watched, she has learned,
she has studied with the masters until they had to come up with a belt that was
blacker than black. I give you THE SLEEP
AVOIDING NINJA!!
There is no song that can soothe her, even if she chose
it. The book you selected is WRONG. Oh, you think you have the right stuffed
animal because you had to search through two toy boxes and crawl under a couch
to retrieve it the previous night? Well you are WRONG motherfucker. You might
as well just take that teddy bear out to the backyard and put it out of its
misery for all the good it will do you. This child cannot be lulled by cuddly
objects. She is TOO TIRED. Too tired for
everything. Too tired to get her own
pajamas. Too tired to brush her teeth. Too tired to LIE IN HER BED. You gave her a glass of water in the bathroom
right after she brushed her teeth?!
NO! The bedtime avoiding ninja’s
mouth is dry!! So DRY! “I stuck my
finger in my mouth and it was not wet!” dry.
You heartless beast. How could
you! This baby is obviously at the very
edge of dehydration!! NO NOT THAT
WATER!!! That water was in the cup next to the bed from last night and tastes
like dirt. “YOU MADE ME DRINK DIRT WATER!!!”
What if I rub your back a little bit, baby ninja? Maybe that will help you to relax. “NO NOT LIKE THAT!!” You are rubbing WRONG!!!
And anyway it’s her ELBOW that hurts, not her back, you cretin!!! And she needs to stare into your FACE while
she falls asleep. You are using the
WRONG pillow. If she cannot see your
face while she is slowly, oh so slowly, drifting off into a restless slumber
then BOOM, it’s not happening. The soft
pink blanket? IT HURTS HER TOE. The quilt with the dinosaurs on it “I HATE
DINOSAURS!!!” No one in this world has ever hated dinosaurs baby girl. Dinosaurs are a constant. Dinosaur love is universal!!!!
Ragnar…who apparently will sleep when she’s dead.
