ABOUT ME

About me: My husband Chuck, our six-year-old Junior, our three-year-old Everette and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Hi, Jack Shit? I'm Mrs. Mullet

Today my newly pregnant friend Jen—if you don’t feel like reading the post below, Jen’s hot and the Russian mafia know it—texted me that she is an emotional wreck.

She wanted to know if that’s normal and when it will stop. I told her yes, it’s normal, and that she’ll probably start feeling better when her baby is six months old and starts sleeping through the night.

To which she texted back: "I hate you!"

That went well.

I thought about telling Jen that she is going to hate a lot of people in the next nine months: the nurses who weigh her, strangers who touch her belly and tell her she's "huge!", non-pregnant friends who can drink and stay up past 7:30 p.m., the postman, her fiancé, Kathy Lee Gifford (for the mere fact that she's so fucking annoying), and yes, probably me.

But that was way too much to text. I had no choice; I had to write this: "It'll be fine."

You might think, so what? People say that all the time. But you don’t understand. I was going to be different!

The whole entire solar systemic reason I started this blog was to share honest observations about pregnancy and childbirth. I fancied myself a kind of resource, if you will; a no-holds-barred, give-it-to-me-straight source of expert advice. (Are you rolling on the floor laughing? Cause I sure am.) I mean, one of my very first posts was this.

When I was pregnant, I loathed mothers who patted me on the shoulder and told me everything would be fine. I knew they were lying because I knew I wouldn't be fine. I had to expel another being from my body and then I had to care for that being.

No one can be fine.

I promised myself that I was going to be different. No lies, no sugar coating. I was going to be the woman who told THE TRUTH.

Here! Here!

But it’s not that easy is it? A friend who is freaking out because she cried about being out of dog food doesn’t necessarily need to know that this is just the beginning and that nine months from now she’ll wish an empty dog bowl was her biggest concern. She doesn’t need to know that she is an ant standing before that Empire State Building known as motherhood and that she will never, ever be the same.

Nope.

After Jen texted back “thanks” I opened up wide and swallowed my blog in one entire bite.

I.know.jack.shit.

11 comments:

Michelle said...

Gosh, this is all so true. Life changes completely when you become a mommy. My pregnancy was not fun and I totally hated when a stranger would try and rub my belly. Uggg!! Thanks for sharing. This was a fun read.

Keely said...

Yeah, well...isn't motherhood all about admitting you know jack shit? I was totally the same way - wasn't going to tell my birth horror story to pregnant women, wasn't going to lie and say I was 'fine' (I do that daily), etc., etc. I still try to be honest with my friends that have brand new babies, but who wants to hear that? I sure didn't.

And for the record, not one stranger tried to rub my pregnant belly. I must just be THAT intimidating.

Nicole said...

Everything you say is so true! And your friend will see it all in her rear view mirror just the same as we did and do... I think part of the blessing of parenthood is surviving and then looking back! She is lucky to have you for a friend...

I love your blog--you're absolutely in touch with the human condition! :)

Happy holidays!

Mary Anna said...

Great post.

I once touched the belly of a man at the grocery store. He asked why I did it, and I told him, "Well, you assumed it was OK to touch mine."

Also, a coworker (also male), made a crack about me getting bigger - and I stood next to him and pointed out that a) he was larger and b) mine would go away in a few months.

Finally, I'm not allowed to talk about my labors and deliveries - my OB warned that other mothers might bitch slap me.

Lisa C. said...

lol... Throughout the first trimester of my pregnancy I have to admit, I was pretty pissed... Everyone claims it's so wonderful, you glow, etc... I didn't glow, I was miserable, alone, scared and I felt cheated...lol.. NOONE tells you the truth... lol...

So, I ALWAYS told it like it was...lol.. probably didn't help I was carrying two, who weighed 8lbs each at birth...

Mary said...

I just had a baby, so I can totally relate to this post! And I have a little friend who is going to have her first baby any day... I can't bear to tell her anything except "it'll be great"... and I know the truth is it'll hurt like no other! I can't tell my birth story to pg women; I did post it though, left out some of the gory details. Still, don't let your friend read it.

Jennifer said...

I think we survive through lies. Our brains would explode if it was ALL honesty ALL the time!

Frogs in my formula said...

Nicole, I totally agree that part of the blessing of parenthood is surviving and then looking back.

Mary Anna, I loved that grabbed a man's pooch!

Leanne said...

We ALL start off wanting to be cool and being different. HA!
I have turned into such a stereotypical Mom that I annoy the crap out of myself most days.

I always wanted to reach out and grab the penis' of men who touched my bump. What the heck, if they didn't ask to touch me why couldn't I touch them where ever I wanted?

I never had the guts though. Sigh.

Julia said...

And sharing what jack shit you know is often futile since after all it is just that...shit. No one really wants to hear about it. They all have to learn about jack shit (and baby shit) by themselves. Being brutally honest is awesome but not everybody wants it. They like their high-fructose corn syrup, thank you!

georgie said...

I LOVE your blog!!!!