Originally posted here: http://loveanddribble.com/2015/07/14/the-truth-about-motherhood-year-one/
Please welcome the wonderful Jessica @Jessseeker to The Baby Spot!
The Truth About Motherhood: Year One
You will shed more hair than an Alaskan Malamute.
No, that’s not a drowned rat in the plughole – it’s your former locks.
Fret not. Around about the time you start comparing tresses with next door’s Sphynx cat – you’ll discover regrowth.
There is no easy way to discreetly breastfeed a newborn.
Topless works fine; just let it all hang out. All of it. Until your father-in-law pops by unannounced.
Rest assured, he’ll be far more traumatised by your fried egg nipples than you are. He might even get the hint and call ahead next time.
You’ll soon become adept at eating cold spaghetti one handed, whilst burping your tot, rocking them to sleep, singing Twinkle Twinkle and wiping spit-up from your clothes.
And when you finally get a sniff of that highly coveted hot meal? You’ll burn your tongue.
At 3 weeks old, your child is likely to experience their first growth spurt.
If you’re still breastfeeding – you’ll probably lose a nipple.
Don’t fret though, it will grow back (probably).
A couple months in, your baby will reward you with a smile. Their first proper, pleased to see you, non-gassy, ‘I just filled my nappy’ smile.
And you’ll blub.
Then you’ll howl because you didn’t record it – and subsequently spend a week trying to re-enact the magical moment.
And cry because you fail.
You’ll probably blame your husband.
And then you’ll weep because you blamed your husband.
…Did I mention you’ll cry a lot?
You will cry. A lot.
In fact, if, once you’re a mother you don’t shed a tear watching Finding Nemo – you are dead inside.
If you feel weepy nearly all of the time however, then take your booty to the doctor quick smart. It may be more than just baby blues.
You’ll Google something absurd, like ‘Why does my newborn’s poo look like wholegrain mustard?’ / ‘Can hiccups harm my baby?’ / ‘How much snot can come out of a little person before they become dangerously dehydrated?’
And you’ll find numerous answers. Wildly inaccurate, totally unfounded, often ludicrous, sometimes dangerous answers.
Step away from Google.
I repeat: Step away from Google.
Hello sleep deprivation – goodbye sanity.
When you lose your car keys – they’re probably in the toothbrush holder – where you left them.
Along with your nipple cream.
Do not attempt to brush your teeth with nipple cream – or soothe your cracked nips with toothpaste.
The first time your baby sleeps through the night – you will not.
Panic-stricken – you’ll rouse your husband to ask whether he thinks you should wake the little love. You’ll debate the matter ’til morning.
Unless you fancy being high-fived in the face with a bowl of baby food mush – when your cherub finally starts sleeping through the night on a regular basis, keep it on the down low.
Nobody likes a show-off. Particularly sleep-deprived mothers.
Plus, the chances are your little tyke will stop sleeping through the instant you announce it. Kids are great like that.
Laugh, sneeze and cough with caution.
Lest you forget those vitally important pelvic floor exercises. Eau d’Pee is not a good scent on you.
The best sound in the whole wide world? Your baby’s laugh.
Which is why you’ll become obsessed with tickling them, playing peek-a-boo and twerking in your pyjamas.
At six months old, your little one’s desire to be mobile greatly exceeds their ability. This will drive them bat sh*t crazy.
Which, in turn, will drive you bat sh*t crazy.
By ten months, once they’ve de-shelved the DVDs for the thirty-seventh time that day, you’ll look back on this time fondly.
What the holy crap on a blended avocado baby rice root vegetable yoghurt is all this mess?!
Ah, weaning. Pure, unadulterated, joyous carnage.
You’re going to need new wallpaper.
‘Dada’ is a whole lot easier to say than ‘Mama’. And repeat.
Remember: There is no shame in being baba’s second word when you are their first love.
You will come frightfully close to flooring a pensioner. On more than one occasion.
There are only so many times you can hear the phrase “You’re making a rod for your own back…” without resorting to physical violence.
Kicking the cane out from under them works a treat.
Irritable? Disrupted sleep? Flushed cheeks? …Loose stools? Not you – the baby. Darn teething.
Everything within reach can and will be used as a chew toy to soothe those throbbing gums. This includes, though is not exclusive to:
• The toilet seat.
• Next door’s cat.
• A woodlouse.
Kids are freaking hilarious.
Snort snot out of your nose, need to change your knickers hilarious.
With any luck, this will prompt you to get back onto those pelvic floor exercises. Pronto.
At around seven months, your lil’ tinker will enter a delightful little phase called ‘separation anxiety’. It’s just precious.
Your child will shriek like their leg is being gnawed off by a rabid chipmunk every time you put them down. It’s cute for about ten minutes, because it shows how much they love their mama.
So long as you don’t need to eat, drink, sleep, breathe, pee or poo without an infant on your hip, you’ll breeze through it.
It will all be worth it.
Nothing, and I mean nothing can prepare you for the heart in fingertips, popping candy in lungs, chocolate syrup through your veins – sweet, sweet love that will consume your every being – for the ruddy gorgeous heart-string pulling, brain-cell pinching, sleep-inhibiting, loud bundle of awesomeness, you just made.
Not even the sight of David Beckham in his underpants.