To quote myself...

labour is to pregnant women as sex is to new mothers: a terrifying and inevitable reality. The only thing that health professionals tend to discuss when this subject comes up is the importance of doing your Kegals. Screw you. What they need to do is take the dads aside and give them some info. Maybe let them know that they need to readjust their expectations for a little while. If you suspect that she's tacked on a week or two to the time before you can do it, let it be. Maybe full flannel nightgowns aren't just for pioneers anymore?? And finally, here's your choice new dad: sex in the dark or sex way under the duvet.
And don't make her admit to her new awkwardness. Take your lady into your loving arms and tell her you love her shimmery sea scape, think flannel is a sexy textile, find the energy saving lights irritating, and get down to business.

Some Advice For You:

The biggest piece of advice that I can give to new mothers when they aren't sleeping or have to hold their babies all day or have to breast feed at the dinner table... is to try and remember that it's just a phase. It won't last. 

The thing that I don't like to tell them and the thing that makes me want to punch myself late at night, is that unfortunately, the good things are also a phase. "Oh, my angel baby slept for six hours in a row the last two nights! That's great! I think I'll have three cocktails tonight!" And then your darling baby decides to yank that carrot back and leave you starving for delicious carrots and also, hungover.

It has to be the hardest part of being a new mom. The ol' bait and switch. The sneaky bastards (that is, if your partner can't see the point of committing to the mother of his children in front of friends, family and God. Because, yeah, marriage is sooo stupid and the millions upon millions of couples that have gone before you are CRAZY. Or, whatever) wait until you're about to crack, turn up the charm, make you get that fuzzy feeling for them that you had in the hospital before the drugs wore off, and then they punch you in the face. Metaphorically speaking. What I'm getting at is that I strongly suggest you consider adoption. Like, in Anne of Green Gables: adopt a tween. The sleep training is over, you can put them to work on your family farm or at least make them mow the lawn and worse case scenario; they're out in a handful of years. Or you can always send them back where they came from with a nice note attached.

You're welcome.

These are a few of my favorite things...

One of my favorite things about being a working mom with a new baby just happened.

I spent about ten minutes talking with a man about a bed for his son and then noticed that my left boob was leaking through my shirt. I spent the rest of the time not hearing a word he was saying and holding my arm awkwardly across my chest. WEEEEEEEE!


Curiously, I did not make the sale.

Free Pornographic baby clothing!

People are very generous when you're having a baby. They want to help. They want to share. They want to unload all of their baby crap. But it's great because it's free, you can pass it on later and you get stuff that you wouldn't otherwise.

Someone gave me this sweater when I was pregnant with Spawn and now it's her Subordinate's. When I first saw this sweater, I wondered what kind of pervert knits penises on a baby's sweater? Obviously, I thought it was hilarious and made Spawn wear it regularly. I'm really pleased that it's back in heavy rotation.

Can you imagine the sweet little old lady who selflessly knit this for some baby and no one had the balls to tell her that the diaper pins looked like penises and then some toddler pointed to them and said "penis" or whatever the kid's family has nicknamed penises causing everyone to laugh awkwardly and pretend the kid was just hyper sexual rather than insult the old woman? That's what I imagine anyway.

And the winner is....

My new kid is in the lead.

When I brought Spawn home from the hospital, our beloved cat seemed large and grotesque. Our cat is no longer with us. That's just a coincidence, I swear. Now, I'm not saying that Spawn is the new family cat but BabyB does make her seem um, ginormous. Anyway, I still love her and everything but something has changed. First off, because of my discomfort and fatigue at the end of the pregnancy, my Associate really had to step up and became the primary caregiver while I became more and more like the mom from What's Eating Gilbert Grape, shouting orders from the couch or bed. Then, when I was in the hospital, it was just the two of them. End result: they're best friends forever and I'm the odd mom out.

Or am I? Because it just so happens that I have a new baby that I can mold into my very own bestie. And I'm pretty confident that she's really into this idea because she'd been brown nosing since she was born. Exhibit A: an hour after I got to the hospital, she was born. Case closed. She's obviously courting me. And it's working! She weighed more, was taller than Spawn was, and she doesn't have daily three hour screaming fits like Spawn did. So... in short, BabyB is faster, stronger, bigger and just generally the evolution of human beings in every way. Obviously.

We have a winner**!

**miscmom reserves the right to change favorites at any time, without notice or logic. 

• This Friday's episode of Supernanny looks fantastic.
• I really like Alec Baldwin and feel that Steve Martin is kin because we have the same last name, so I'd like to catch the Oscars this year.
• I haven't even assembled the crib yet.
• Spawn is teething and not handling it with any grace which means we haven't been sleeping which means non of the last minute preparations I penciled in for the eleventh hour have been started yet. The baby's room looks like the set of Hoarders. 
• The doctor told me that March 7th is the due date and I want what was promised to me.

These are just some of the reasons  that I am forbidding Spawn: The Sequel from making an early appearance.

my staycation is RUINED!

I have just heard some very, very disappointing news. I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's 'false advertising' because I haven't actually seen any marketing from my local hospital but somehow, I feel ripped off. Turns out that they've changed the rules. You can't send your baby to the nursery, they must remain in your room. The whole time. Sigh... Gone are the days of relaxing until your baby is brought to you to nurse, only to be whisked away when you're done. And so, just like that, no more staycation! What a rip!

I found out about this bullshit new development at Spawn's Sing and Sign class. All the mother's lamented their time in the hospital because the nurses wouldn't let their babies sleep in bed with them. Most of the mothers opted for an early discharge because the hospital was so noisy and the nurses were always bugging them, trying to push stool softener and drugs on them. Obviously, I didn't contribute to the conversation.

I want all those things! I want the nurse to take my baby to sleep where a competent professional can watch over him/her and all those weird noises they make at first. And I like stool softener! Why the hell not?! And pain killers? Yes, please! And if the hospital wasn't so noisy, how would I have learned about Leslie, my roommate's daughter, who was going to have to start kindergarten without her mom to be there? How the hell, I ask you, with only the sight of Leslie's dad's shoes showing from under the curtain divider and the strained conversation that I had no choice but to overhear, would I have been able to gather that their relationship was a loveless lie?

I guess I'll have to get a t.v. this time. But why bother? Now, I'll have to entertain a newborn. Yippy dip. You better believe I'll be taking all the stool softener and drugs I can get my hands on. Thank you very much.