“Our babysitter is expecting her first and as I cruised through ShopRite at 11:50 last night (P.S. you see some really weird sh*t at grocery stores at that hour) I thought about some of the stuff I want to tell her in preparation for motherhood.
And then I got home and unloaded the 17 bags of groceries that somehow did not include literally the only two items I specifically needed. Probably should warn preggo about that.
And that about four years in, you lose the ability to place food onto a plate in any formation that is not a smiley face. Which can be awkward.
Lively political debates will be replaced by deep philosophical and scientific exchanges about whether it is really dark outside yet. And you will always lose.
You will find out exactly what the maximum human capacity of your bed is.
And your shower.
And underneath every table, chair, and cardboard box. And the front hall closet.
And that little cabinet under the sink.
You will learn to like Blippi. Not because he is particularly like-able. But because YouTube will automatically show you other videos that are SO MUCH WORSE, HOLY CRAP.
Your definitions of words like ‘dinner’ and ‘clean’ will become very . . . stretchy.
No matter how much ketchup you put on their plates, they will always finish it at exactly the same second you sit down to pee.
That’s also when they get thirsty. And injured.
You are not allowed to pee.
Except for every time you laugh, cough or sneeze. Even if you just peed.
Especially if you just peed.
There’s a secret compartment in your home that is invisible, and you will never find it and every time a new puzzle or set of anything appears in your house, one piece automatically goes there.
Another goes into the radiator.
You will NEVER find any scissors. Every drawer that used to have scissors will contain seven scotch tapes that each have 1 inch left on the roll, 44 glue sticks, only the bad pens, the post office envelope that used to have stamps and keeps tricking you into thinking you have stamps and still no one will ever throw it out, a bunch of stand-alone unmarked house keys, a useless denomination of foreign currency, batteries that are either new or dead, a temperamental flashlight, and one earring.
You will start leaving people voicemails.
No matter how many markers you buy, you will always need to buy markers every time you see them.
You will have a cabinet with 11 sippy cups and every single one of them will be missing either the top or the straw or both. Whereas your Tupperware drawer will have 3X more tops than bottoms. It’s a sign from God. He’s either telling you about global warming or that you are a bad person.
Wipes count as washing hands. And a bath.
For you.
You will newly appreciate the profound humor of the word ‘butt.’
Hahahaha. Butt.
You will also become fluent in an entirely different language. For example, ‘I’m not tired!’ means ‘I’m so freaking zonked I can’t move – I’m going to lay down right here on the floor in slow motion while I’m chewing and I’m crying because half of me is already asleep and it’s confusing but don’t worry I don’t even like beds.’
‘I wasn’t even near him,’ actually means, ‘I was standing directly in front of him trying to touch his eyeballs with my eyeballs.’
Oh, and if you think any kid older than 18 months is going to be willing to use a ‘kid’ spoon, you may as well just go screw yourself.
SO EXCITED FOR YOU.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Sara RF of Mama Said F. Submit your own story here, and subscribe to our best stories in our free newsletter here.
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