Thursday, September 1, 2011

The Notorious M.O.M.?

Yesterday I had a post up on Aiming Low about how I judge other people's drugstore purchases, and then I got home to find a box containing nipple cream, a baby rectal thermometer, and giant maxi pads. I wish I could say that this was just a fantastic coincidence--another amusing story of swag gone awry--but I totally ordered them. Because I'm going to be a mom soon, and moms have sore nipples, and brand-new baby butts that need occasional temperature-taking, and private parts that leak.

I know that a lot of women identify as moms the minute they conceive, but as much as I've always wanted children, I don't feel that way. My mom's a mom. Your mom's a mom. Michelle Duggar is a mom (and her vagina is probably like one of those wind socks you see waving outside of car washes). I'm not a mom.

Or am I?

My friend Beth made me this needlepoint. So I guess it's official.
I already wrote the existential mommy-blogging crisis post, and this is not that. You know I'm going to write about this baby, and you're going to love it, or tolerate it, or stop reading altogether and make my eyes--and my heart!--leak as much as my sore, sore nipples (guilt-tripping is the only mom thing I have down cold.) No, the existential crisis I'm having now has nothing to do with blogging. It has to do with mothering.

I no longer pull my pants up when I go to the bathroom before bed (my logic being that I'm about to take my pants off anyway, so why waste the energy?) When I see a brown smear on my clothing, or the couch, my first instinct is to lick it. I have read Rick Springfield's autobiography but I sometimes recycle the Sunday New York Times without reading it. I can't sew or type or properly fold a shirt or make hospital cornersHow am I allowed to be someone's mom?

"Not mother?"
To paraphrase Keanu Reeves in Parenthood, you need a license to buy a dog, to drive a car--hell, you even need a license to catch a fish. But they'll let any butt-reaming asshole* be a mother. Where is my instruction manual?

*Hey, wait, doesn't "butt-reaming" mean anal sex? I think it would be hard for a literal asshole to butt-ream, don't you?**

**I am nothing if not a critical thinker. Maybe I am cut out for this.

P.S. I'm sorry if the title of this post made you think I was going to rap. But that would have been unpleasant for everyone involved.
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9 comments :

  1. I'm mad you have me over here picturing Michelle Duggars' vagina

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  2. I know you addressed so many other things in this post, but I lost it at "Not Mother?" MY mother and I quote that movie all the time!

    "Why is the cork on the fork?"
    "To prevent him from hurting himself?"
    *fork palm*

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  3. it will just come to you...if you weren't worrying about being a good mom then that's where there is trouble. i have been a mom for 11 years and i still can't fold shirts properly or do hospital corners. i actually hang everything except socks and panties up because i can't fold. my kid is fine. his clothes are a little wrinkly but he's cool with that.

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  4. You have such a great way of saying what WE were thinking in our 1st pregnancy! There is no Mom manual and we wish there was! I remember reading tons of books about delivering the baby but never about when the baby was here. When we left the hospital, the nurse literally threw my son at me in the back seat and I had to catch him! When I recovered from that, I remember my husband and I looking at each other and saying, "NOW what do we do?" I had to call my mother and ask, do you bathe them 3x a day? 1x a week? How much?? Some how it all works out and it will be the most difficult and most gratifying thing you will ever do. You will make a wonderful mother!!!

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  5. Anonymous1:43 AM

    If there is one piece of advice I can give you mama y mama (I'm not hispanic, but that just sounds better) is to START USING THAT NIPPLE CREAM NOW! Baby boys = Barracuda. I followed this advice with my daughter and all went smoothingly swell. Then I had my son. I thought I was all tough and it was just coincidence that nothing chafed or bled the first time around. WRONG! I cried a lot. My entire body cringed as his purty little lips met with my squealing nips. I would hold my breath until the sting went away. I had no clue that nipples could crack so badly that they seperated into threes, even fours. Seriously. Cuidado dude. Grab that tube. Now. DO IT!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Okay, so I know you had your analysis of fashion advertisements awhile ago, but, let's face it, I'm too lazy to post this link there. However, given the ridiculousness of this picture, I thought you would "enjoy" it. The face of the model on the bottom (HOW ELSE WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THIS PHOTO?) is, well, not priceless. It's certainly something, though.

    http://miss-mosh.deviantart.com/art/Chickies-141241522?q=boost:popular+in:photography/commercial/fashion&qo=145

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  7. Anonymous7:41 PM

    You are going to be great! Just roll with it. There is really no wrong way to do it (except smoking crack and beating your kid. Those are, like, the only 2 things I pass parenting judgement on)....you'll figure out what works for you and your family and you'll survive. You can read every book in the world, you can ask every Mom you know ahead of time but this is one of those jobs you learn by doing. And sure, you can ask for help or tips from other parents when you need them, but don't bog yourself down in those details now because 1. you won't remember the answers after you have the baby and 2. all babies are different...so you really won't know what you need to know until he gets here. So relax and enjoy this quiet time when you can still go to the bathroom by yourself :). You're going to be great!
    HeatherS

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  8. So, I went to Walmart to score some cheap school supplies for my classroom. Seriously, not even Amazing Savings sells them for as cheap as Walmart this time of year. I saw a parking space about three up from the top of the line, so I put on my blinker and approached it. Suddenly a car came around the corner from the opposite direction and pulled into it. A man driving, a woman, and two boys. I just sat there, leaned out my window and said "Really?". The woman yelled that they saw it first. To which I replied "You have two sons, that's what you teach them?" Blank stares is all I got.
    I'd never do that, and I'd die if my children did.
    You'll be fine. You'll think and feel your way through, impart millions of great things by lecture and example, and raise a thinking, feeling person.

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  9. I'm so excited for you to have a baby because I know you will be a fantastic mom. Your child is going to have a great life to look forward to!

    ReplyDelete

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