Obligatory intro. Before I became a parent, I often heard that parenting was a very humbling experience and, as a new parent, I can attest to that wholeheartedly. But, man, is it ever a stumbling, fumbling, grumbling, tumbling, bumbling experience as well. A new parent must learn to deal with a fledgling being who, in turn, must learn how to function in the world without sending the people they depend on to function over the deep end and into a bubbly whirlpool of crazy.
Obligatory intro, part deux, with concise statements. Parenting a baby can be summed up in the following way: No matter how much you think you’re prepared for based on what you’ve read in child-rearing books or what others have told you, you’ll flounder. A lot. You’ll learn from your mistakes. Until you make the same ones over again. You’ll wonder who ever let you become a parent. You’ll think you should have attained some sort of license or certificate to have a baby. Lots of things will happen to you and/or your baby. Lots of these things will be bad and make you think you suck at parenting. You’ll tell yourself and others how much happier and more fulfilled you are being a parent while deep down you struggle with your decision to become a parent. Then you’ll feel guilty for experiencing this inner-struggle and go out and buy your baby an expensive new toy.
I am paranoid is an understatement. I never knew what true paranoia was until I had a baby. If you’ve spent any time with me at all lately then you’ve probably heard me utter the words I’m not cut out for this countless times. Every day there is something new to worry about. There are the more immediate and life-threatening concerns: Will my baby choke today? Will I drop my baby today? Will I drop my baby on her head today? Will I trip while I’m holding my baby and will she, therefore, fly out of my arms and land on her head on the concrete today? There are also the more long-term and non life-threatening concerns: Will my baby ever grow up or will she be a baby forever? The latter, I would argue, is a very serious concern and could be viewed as life-threatening. For her mother.
Shit will happen on your watch but, not to worry, similar and non-similar shit happens on other parents’ watches too. Throughout your parenting lifespan, some occurrences are guaranteed to be collective occurrences. These are the things that happen to your child and/or you that you know happen to pretty much every other child and/or parent on earth. Other situations are more unique. These are things you’re pretty sure have only happened to a select few or no other children/parents anywhere ever. The following is a story that encompasses both types of scenarios.
Shit. On my watch. We were faithful users of the Bumbo seat, as seen here (featuring Gansta Babymalfoy, who would like to remind you, as always, that if you mess with her, she will “sewiouswy ef yow sit up”). Now, take note that the Bumbo is on the counter and please DON’T EVER DO THAT! I did and here’s what happened: One day Babymalfoy and I were getting ready to do one of our favorite weekly chores: shopping. I put her in the Bumbo for a second so I could, frankly, contain my milk jugs in my super-unattractive nursing bra to avoid bouncy booby syndrome in public, and as I was suiting up with said bra, Babymalfoy dropped a toy. She then decided that she desperately needed that toy back and that it was important enough to risk life and limb to retrieve it. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. B a b y r e a c h e d f o r t o y. B a b y t i p p e d B u m b o o v e r. B a b y w e n t f l y i n g h e a d-f i r s t t o w a r d s f l o o r. M o m m y c a u g h t b a b y b y a n k l e s j u s t b e f o r e babycrashfloorscreamingprobableheadtraumapanickingmommyplagued withguiltforever. So that’s the more typical part of the story. What might be less typical was a strange craving that emerged after I finally got got my heart rate back down to a semi-normal level. As I was hugging her and loving on her and apologizing for being such a horrible mother, I had this overwhelming urge to swallow her. To eat her. To put her back where she belongs where she’ll be safe and protected forever. Inside me. It was at that moment that I truly understood, on a primal level, why some animals eat their young when they perceive a threat. And apparently I’m her biggest threat. Because I suck at parenting.
Inability to perform the simplest of tasks. Besides almost accidentally killing your baby, some of the more banal aspects of parenting will just make you feel completely inept, especially those that you perform every single f-ing day. For example, I suck at snaps. That’s right, snaps, one of the best inventions for baby clothes, especially onesies and PJ’s. Then why the hell can’t I do them right?! I have a hard enough time inserting the male snap to the female snap without looking and then when I finally get the whole garment suited up, there’s almost always one male or female snap with no mate. This neither bodes well for lonely and horny snaps nor a red-eyed, delirious mommy attempting to redress her kicking and screaming baby in the middle of the goddamn night.
What if I don’t f-ing feel like embracing the chaos? You may have heard this parenting mantra before and I ask you this: Who the hell wants to embrace chaos? Seriously, while I can appreciate the intent behind this advice, there are times when instead of hugging a tornado, I’d rather just surrender to the pandemonium and be swept away in the gale force winds that are my baby. So when my baby is in 5th gear of a grand mal tantrum, I might just throw a kicking, screaming, and flailing tantrum myself. And if you say to me, Zoe, you have to just embrace the chaos, I will not be able to think of a comeback worthy enough and will therefore be forced to punch your face in.
Conclusion with stereotypical analogy. Basically, being a new parent is like going to the dentist — you decide you’re going to do it, you do it, you rue the day you ever decided to do it and then, at the end of day, you’re glad you did it. And no matter what, you’ll always know when you go to bed at night that no matter how badly you fuck up this child, you’re doing the best you can. Remember to tell yourself that when you let your baby cry for a little while after putting her to bed when you swore up and down that you would never do that, when you accidentally headbutt your baby, when you accidentally pinch her extra-senstive skin while diapering her, and when she falls head first out of the Bumbo seat you allowed her to sit in on the kitchen counter. I’m You’re. doing. the. best. I you. can.
Finale with cheese. There are the things I don’t have as a parent such as confidence, competence, piece of mind, freedom, energy, brain power, motivation, and beauty. And there are the things I do have as a parent such as a baby, baby clothes, baby food, baby furniture, baby poop, baby-related worries, baby-related stress, and baby-related hardships. Guess which things I’d rather have…