…after a weekend in California for a wedding…these are not
grammatically correct. My English
teacher OCD is making me say that.
Having a baby is like having a doll because I had the kind
of doll that you feed fake baby food to and then she poops in her little weird
baby cloth diaper and I totally had a baby clothes fashion show the other day
until the doll got so annoyed and squirmy I had to give up. Also people say, “She looks like such a
little doll!” but I’m pretty sure that’s because, surprise, my baby is super
white and no longer has horrific eczema.
Being a mother is as exhausting as being a teenager who
babysits except you get used to being sleep deprived since you can never give
the kid back and go home and watch like five hours of Dawson’s Creek in
syndication even though they’re the lame college episodes.
Going to the airport with an infant is like going to the
airport with your cat: you’re desperately hoping you don’t get pooped on and
that the crying doesn’t anger the passengers and that no one gives your cargo a
disgusting airplane disease omg why is that old lady coughing that disgusting phlegmy
cough without covering her mouth and no you did not just try to touch my cargo!
This one is from the Doctor: taking the baby to a retirement
community is entering a field of land mines.
But the mines just grasp at the air surrounding the baby and remark on
the roundness of her head.
Having your baby scream bloody murder during an airplane’s
descent is as torturous as sitting next to someone else’s baby screaming bloody
murder during an airplane’s descent except it’s so much worse since you are
simultaneously aghast at the unhappiness of your tiny, sweet child and also
deeply embarrassed that this is happening to you and you are now the person
everyone hates and then everyone is really nice about it because people are
better than you thought they were which is the biggest relief in the world but
you’re so stressed you almost wish someone would give you a hard time about it
so you could vent your stress in a RAGEFUL RANT about how your baby is just
scared and in pain and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Wearing a bridesmaid dress in a postpartum body is like
making home sausage with your torso.
Spanx for the win.
Changing diapers is like a box of chocolates…you never know
what you’re gonna get. But 0-8 times a
day it’s poop. The surprise, though, is
WHAT COLOR?
Being away from your three month old for over a day is as
strange as not having a three month old but suddenly remembering because your
boobs feel like they’re going to explode every two hours.
Breastfeeding in wedding garb is as sweaty as everything
else I do because breastfeeding makes me sweaty for some reason.
Having a kid during a heat wave is like owning a pet vampire
because you will do anything to keep the blasting rays of the sun from touching
the precious, very white skin of your child even to the extent that you have to
give your kid vitamin D drops because she doesn’t get any direct sunlight.
Being a parent is as amazing as every cliché. If the cliché were
also covered in a light layer of sweat and boob juice…and smiling.
Afterword: while looking up google images for “simile,” many
pictures of teeth came up (“smile”).
English is hard.
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