C is for Choice (of Words)

At some point, the whole "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all" thing when out the window when it came to pregnant women. I don't know what it is about seeing a pregnant woman that gives others mouth vomit, but, boy, does it. Some of the choice things I heard was:

• Are you sure it's not twins? (Even after I had an ultrasound showing one baby)
• Turn around... yup, it's a girl, your ass got huge (It was a boy and my ass was always huge)
•  If you're this big now, wait until the end of your pregnancy (I was incredibly lucky and only gained 18 lbs.)
•  Are you tired? You look tired. (You might as well tell me "you look like shit!") 
•  You can't eat! You can't drink that! I hope you are exercising! (Thanks, Coach!)

You get the idea. And I'm sure there is other horrible stuff people said to me.  Now, every girl knows she will gain weight when she gets pregnant. But, when it's your first time, you have no idea how your body is going to respond to the pregnancy. Add that plus the additional hormones raging through ones body and you have the reason why women are crazy during pregnancy.

So, please, do everyone a favor. When you see a visibly pregnant woman (don't try guessing - make sure you are positive!) tell her "Congratulations!" or "You are certainly glowing!" or ---- nothing.

Believe me, silence is golden.

B is for Boners

Prepare yourself - boys get boners. Even baby boys.  My sweet, precious baby, who is 16 weeks old today (sigh) get boners. When it comes to H, I prefer to call them "diaper tents," I don't feel as creepy talking about it then.

I'll never forget the first time I dealt with it. He was two months old, I take his diaper off, and there it is. All proud and smug. Of course, I didn't believe it. But there I go, try pushing it down to clean him and it just pops back up, no problem. Now, if you come across this - duck and cover because diaper tents are not just any boners, they are pee boners. I have learned this the hard way. His pee shot straight up into the air down. Down all over him. Down the changing pad. Down the walls. Down me.

It's quite the shock when it first happens but you quickly get used to it. And thank your son, he has given you the gift of easy jokes.

A is for Acceptance

Acceptance. It's really bizarre how different my life has become since having the baby. When I look back before H, I seem like a different person. I was a great housewife and a drinker. (Not like alcoholic drinker, just a "I can party" drinker.)  And sometimes it's easy to get upset about how it used to be. Cleaning, cooking, taking care of myself; all of that stuff is secondary to taking care of H, obviously. It wasn't until recently where I accepted my life is different now. And it's not a bad thing.

He does nap (eventually) so the dishes can remain unwashed until then. The laundry can stay in the basket. And I can also ask the husband for help which is something I never really like to do. Too proud. Although, I'm getting the hang of it, I'm not a super woman.

Being a parent means being able to go with the flow. Mostly because parenthood is a ride. It has it's downs (nights out drinking are a thing of the past) but it has so many ups that you forget about the other stuff (H rolled over for the first time yesterday!) 

And that's what I have come to accept: let things go and just be.