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Pic “What gave me away as a parent?”
Look, I hate to say it but in the last 12 weeks my life has changed just a leeeetle bit. I feel like I’m walking around with a great big neon sign on my head announcing to all of the world that THIS WOMAN IS NOT THE SAME! SHE’S CHANGED! NEW MOTHER! NEW MOTHER! NEW MOTHER!! OK, so maybe it’s more of a scrolling LED sign to fit in such a long announcement, but what’s a few technicalities between friends?
Before I became a ridiculously Awesomely Unprepared parent, I was just a ridiculously Awesomely Unprepared parent to be! I thought that things would change massively (bringing a baby into the world can do that), but on the whole I figured I’d still talk about the same stuff, wear the same stuff and that one day (once the C-section recovery time wore off) I would be able to walk around the place fooling everyone…”Look at that young, childless woman. She looks so cool, carefree and sexy, she can’t possibly have a baby. Oh, she does have a baby? Wow, how does she do it?! I would never have guessed!”
Um…BAHAHAHAHA. Is all I have to say to that. So many things give me away (even when the baby is not attached to me with his little monkey hands). Things I swore I would never subscribe to. Just because I was dumb, idealistic and perhaps a little illogical! I like this new phase of my life a lot (lucky haha), but it’s just amazing how all encompassing it can become!
What makes my new mummyhood so obvious (even when my Little Mister is nowhere to be seen), besides the fact that I just used the word “mummyhood” which just sounds so naff?
My car now has window socks on both rear windows. For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, window socks are those shades that cover the whole window (they slide over them for good protection from the sun). Window socks are just one sad step away from having a ‘Baby on Board’ sign or those awful ‘My Family’ stick figures plastered all over the rear window of the family minivan. No, I don’t have a mini van. I have a practical family stationwagon, which I tell myself is a ‘sports’ wagon to make myself feel better. Window socks scream MUMMY!
I will no longer be able to park outside of nightclubs, bars or hip boutique stores without looking like MUMMY GOT A *BABYSITTER AND IS OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME!
I used to be that girl who was always asking someone if they had a tissue, some hand sanitiser or a plastic bag to put things in. My own handbag was too busy being full of jumbled up receipts (which are not very nice to blow your nose on), an iPod, a bunch of loose change that I couldn’t be bothered putting in my purse (who has time to do that?) and a few pairs of mismatched earrings from the last big social outing/s. I was always Awesomely Unprepared for any snotty, goopy, sneezy, spillage-y situation. Now my handbag is totally in order. I cannot beeeelieve it! Basically, I can’t afford to mess about when the baby needs something. Suddenly I have a section in there for a dummy, a mini pack of wipes, a couple of disposable nappy bags and tissues. Earrings? Pfft. They’d only be good if I planned on losing an ear to a tiny, bunched up fist. The other day I realised I had turned into my mother. I stepped in something gross in K-Mart. It was wet and suspiciously seemed to have come from a gross child who had just left the area. My automatic response was to ask my mum for a tissue. Then before she could rummage through her perfectly organised handbag, I remembered. I’m a mother now. I have my own tissues. I wiped my sandal and my foot before asking out loud, “Now what the hell do I do with this gross, wet tissue?”
Before my mum could answer, I found a plastic nappy bag to put it in. And then my mum almost convulsed with laughter. I will quote her as saying, “That’s HILARIOUS.”
You’ll recognise me when I’m out and about these days. I’ll be the one with the thinning hair. Yes, they say that some women will experience hair fall a while after giving birth. Something to do with hormones changing or something? Suddenly the beautiful, bouncy voluminous tresses that pregnancy blessed me with are no longer. I’m clogging up shower drains, getting hair all over the baby and I have to double check myself before I go out of the house, in case I am sporting a nice hair rug on the back of my clothing. The worst thing? Don’t you hate when you get hair falling into your cleavage? Ew.
The other day I bought a pair of sensibly lengthed denim shorts. You know. The type that mums wear that covers your whole butt and then some. The kind you can’t find easily, because all the shorts in the stores are for perky little teenagers or lucky adults who wear a size 000 (the same size as the Little Mister)! Yes, my shorts are PRACTICAL and VERSATILE. I remember when I only bought clothes because they were “so hot right now” or “sexy” or “fun”. Sure, I still hope to retain that whole…vibe…but let’s face it. If it can be pulled apart to reveal my underwear (or what’s underneath it) or bunches up when I sit down and reveals numerous stretch marks or becomes uncomfortable…it’s something that goes in the “I had to get a *babysitter so I can wear this” pile at the back of my wardrobe!
* I mention “babysitter” a lot but I am yet to pluck up the courage except to leave Little Mister with the grandparents or my husband for a little while at a time. It’s tragic.
I’ll be the irritating lady who forgets she’s not with her baby, but continues to speak like she’s from the children’s entertaining group Hi-5. Think overly perky and high pitched. BABY TALK (well not so much the content as the tone). OH MY GOD. This disgusts me the MOST. I catch myself doing this around adults occasionally. Luckily I nip it in the bud before anyone notices but the fact that I almost let it slip completely is just horrifying to me! Don’t give up on me just yet. I’m working on it!! In fact, I can’t even believe I just admitted it. EEP! How embarrassment! On the bright side, I will sound like I am very positive and encouraging…”Good on YOU for finishing that bottle! Good on YOU for sleeping at night! YOU ARE AWESOME for not screaming in the bath! Thank YOU for not getting your excrement on me!”
I should hire myself out to encourage normal adults in their every day lives, for doing those exact things. I’d make you feel so good about yourself just for doing the smallest tasks! Just call me Kez: Your (Very Average) Life Coach.
Look, there’s also this instinctive thing that mothers do. It’s to do with the rocking of the hips. We do it in labour (or during pregnancy) to ease the pain and we do it with a baby in our arms to soothe them with the movement. I find myself doing it when OTHER people are holding my baby and I find myself doing it when I am just standing around without a baby in sight, like at the shops or something. I look like I’m exercising my sea legs *arrgh me maties*. I’m probably one sway away from giving everyone around me motion sickness. Maybe I should take up hula hooping or something. You know, so it doesn’t look so stupid and people will at least think I’m a bit hip. Hip rocking. Shut up.
Basically, I am now a responsible, sensible person. Except, I have to stop accidentally swearing all the time.
I give off a “married with a baby” vibe so strong you can almost smell it (it smells like baby sensitive washing liquid and formula). Basically, you could spot me from a mile away. The jig is up.
Anyway, I’ve gotta stop mummy blogging and go play with my baby while planning the next adult conversation I’ll have – which will be all about the baby of course. Wanna see my screensaver of the baby on my iPhone?