First, of course, you need to be breastfeeding a 2-year-old. Hang in there; this might take a minute…
Tag Archives: pregnancy
1. Lose all the baby weight immediately. Do you want your child to think of you as svelte and conventionally attractive, or slovenly and besaddlebagged?
2. Get rid of your TV. Well, don’t just get rid of it — that’s wasteful. Convert it into a planter for an organic herb garden.
3. Breastfeed. Until he’s 12 years old. Continue reading
I want to make it clear right up front that this is not a post about bodily fluids. I mean, I could write a novel about that, if you want — but I don’t think you do. If you are squeamish or simply not interested in the secretions of others, know that this is a safe place.
However, we’re coming up pretty quickly on my son’s first birthday, so I’m about to get very mommy-blogger in this bitch and reminisce about the day he was born. And, more specifically, what it was like for ME. (I’m only about six months removed from being a legit Millennial, so yeah this is about me. Duh.)
The funny thing about being in labor is the tricks your memory plays on you. Time kind of stretches out and loops back on itself, and it’s hard to keep track of what’s happening and in what order.
(Also, I don’t have any basis for comparison, but I assume this whole time-shifting, memory-warping experience is amplified if you’re on magnesium sulfate — which I was. Here’s my one-sentence review of magnesium sulfate: “I’ve never in my life been so unhappy to be so high.” Once magnesium sulfate gets a Yelp page, it will be hearing from me.)
So in the interest of family history, I feel the need to write down the few ephemeral labor memories I have left before they go the way of Brian Austin Green’s hip-hop aspirations, or Jordan Knight’s solo career. (Which reference is timelier? Neither.)