If you have a chance to watch the youtube video, please do so. It sets the tone for today's entry. Confessions. To see confessions, click on one of the moms.
I have so many confessions, I don't know where to begin. My first daughter was born colicky. Right out of the gate, screaming non-stop. I remember shuffling my sore ass down the hall to see her in the nursery. All the babies were lined up like little burritos. And then mine. Alone in the corner screaming her head off. The nurse was panicking, pointing to her, mouthing to me from the other side of the glass, "IS THIS ONE YOURS?!" I just stared at her and wondered how I could start walking backwards, back to the safety of my room. I mean, she's trained in this shit and she's panicking? I couldn't even hold down a steady babysitting gig when I was a kid. There was no way in hell I could handle this situation. I walked in, preparing for the battle. Over the screaming, I couldn't hear what the nurse was saying, but I think it was along the lines of, "I don't get paid enough for this shit."
Five months of screaming, ladies. Every day. All day. I prayed for something like a "welcome colic" basket to arrive at my home, complete with ear plugs, headphones and a recording of white noise. That doesn't exist.
We actually had another baby after surviving the colicky cherub. Here's my journal entry dated 9/27/02:
Holy shit. Stay at home moms have the most damn thankless job on the planet. All day I pick up shit that Parker spills or throws all over the house, then I clean up the shitty diapers, go to the store to get diapers to catch the shit. All day Parker asks for a sippy of juice. I say, "No", then she asks for it 1 million more times until it's actually a meal time and she can have it. Then laundry...fuck, it's neverending. There are clothes EVERYWHERE. I put away clothes for about an hour today. Jackets, socks, pants, jammies...what the fuck? How many outfits are my family members wearing in one day?? Then the crying and whining. Like right now for example, Paige is wailing and Parker wants me to put on a shirt that she keeps taking off. I told her she shouldn't take off her clothes in the first place and now she's whining and Paige is still screaming. How the fuck am I remaining sane right now? You know how I keep it together? Parker will look at me and smile or give me a hug and I melt again. Paige will give me her gummy, toothless smile and I forget about the bawling. Ah, being a mom. One minute you're a fucking insane mess, the next, you're June goddamn Cleaver.
So I've been there. You're not alone and you're not a bad mom. I'm here, you're here. We're in this together. If you have stories you'd like to share, you can do it here or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org. I'm currently writing a book and would love to hear what moms have to say!
Daily comic relief is on the bottom of the page. Today is dedicated to all the cougars out there. Beware of the muffin tops, ladies.
Moms of colicky babies, I'm here to support you. Feel free to email me for tips to help soothe your baby.