An Open Letter To New Moms

Okay, so here it is. In all its glory. Exactly what I think of parenting.

The Prompts:

1.) Open letter to new moms.

(inspired by Tiffany from The Secret Is In The Sauce).

Dear Foolish Young Soul:

Please know that while you are terribly excited and scared right now, soon, so very soon, you will hold your wee bundle in your shaking, nervous arms.

And please know that all your fears are about to come true.

He or she will poop and puke on you. But really, those are the least of your problems. That babe is going to keep you up nights, and you're not going to know why. You won't know what the hell is wrong when she is screaming her fool little head off. When her little privates are red and swollen and look like they hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, let me tell you here and now, they do, and short of letting her lay out buck naked and trying every diaper rash cream on the market, there's not a thing you can do about it.

But then she falls asleep in your arms, and she's snoring just a little bit, and you'll forgive her for peeing on your carpet.

Then they get a little older, and have ZERO social awareness. They won't care if they are in church or WalMart. They won't give a hoot that everyone on the entire planet is looking at them ... and YOU ... and thinking "Thank the good Lord above I am not the parent of THAT!"

And then, one rainy day, you'll come out of the grocery store and see her looking at a puddle. Just staring at it like a grown woman looks at a diamond ring. And you'll tell her to go ahead and jump in. Running shoes and all. And she'll look at you with great big eyes, like you are the best mom in the world. Trust me, stripping down a kid who just spent five minutes clomping around in a puddle the size of the ocean, and driving home with her giggling because she's buck naked in her booster seat, makes you forget the candy tantrum she had in the store just moments before.

When she's 7, she'll pick her nose on stage during the school play and she'll go to church in a cute little dress with no panties on. She'll swear at a kid during recess and you get hauled into the office, you'll want to disown her right there and then.

But later on, at bedtime, she'll read to you in a sing-song little voice, with her bony little shoulders moving and grooving to her own little beat, and you'll be convinced that the other kid started it - and even had it comin'.

The sad news, though, is that the precious little bundle that amazes you now, will one day turn into a typical teenager. She'll tell you to shut up. She'll be on the phone all the time, IF she's home. Her room will be trashed. She won't help with the dishes. She's just plain old mean and angry all. the. time.

I'm sure there will be a positive spin to put to this later. I just don't know it yet. Right now I'm thinking the reward, like the snoring baby, the giggling puddle jumper, and the reader, will be when the teenager moves out.

But I'll be sure to post another open letter when I know how it turns out. It's a thing of nightmares right now.

Just enjoy these little years. They are truly the best. And if you figure out a cure for teenopathy or learn a thing or two about bitchology, please, for the love of God...help me.