The power of moms compels you!
Hello all. Sorry it’s been a minute. My life has been crazy. If I had to sum up what I’ve been up to in the last few months, it basically boils down to:
- Getting ready for the baby’s arrival.
- Avoiding the Deranged Mom Cult.
While #1 has been exhausting, I’d say that goal #2 — avoiding the Deranged Moms — has actually taken more of my time and energy.
I’m not sure how to describe them. Are they energy vampires? Zombies? Mombies? I really don’t know. All I know is that whenever I say anything about getting ready for the baby, there they are, putting a depressing spin on whatever I just said.
For example, I might post on Facebook that I’m feeling tired one day.
“You don‘t even know what tired IS,” say The Moms. “You think you’re tired now? You’re going to reach a plane of exhaustion that you didn’t even know existed. You’re going to be so tired you will pray for death just so you can get some sleep. Because you’re never going to get sleep. Ever. EVER!” And The Moms will cackle at my ignorance.
Or I might say something even more mundane, like “excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.”
“GO? As in, you’re going to walk to the bathroom?” the Moms will say with deranged grins on their faces. “After you push that kid out, you’ll be lucky if you can get to a bathroom. Your whole pelvic floor will be so weak you will PRAY that you can make it to a toilet without pissing your pants. And if — IF — you do make it to the bathroom, you won’t be alone. You will NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN. The small humans will find you. They will pound on the door. They will demand to come in with you. They will ruin all the toilet paper. You will pray for solitude but it will NEVER COME!”
Apparently my daily prayer count is going to increase quite a bit.
Now you might be thinking, maybe the moms are just really pessimistic people. Maybe they just enjoy dragging people down into their misery. But here’s the crazy part. After they’re done casting whatever gloom and doom pronouncement they have in store for me in that moment (“Your body is going to blow up like a balloon and NEVER BE THE SAME!” “You’ll never be able to eat without someone trying to steal your food!” “Your boobs will have a mind of their own and leak all the time!”), those deranged grins will be replaced with genuine smiles.
“But it’s WORTH IT!” they’ll say. “And being a mommy is the most wonderful thing you will ever do in your life, and you will love the crap out of your kid, and I’d endure all the blood and guts and agony a million times over again. You will LOVE BEING A MOM more than anything ever.”
Sometimes I foolishly think I can escape The Moms if I just don’t post anything on social media and keep my mouth shut. Nope. I can just be sitting there, thinking my thoughts, and then…
“Oh, you think you’re safe in your own head? NEVER! Your brain will have no room for anything anymore. All you’ll be able to think about is the kid’s schedule and the annoying theme song to whatever kids TV show they have to watch ten million times a day.”
Truly, there is no escaping The Moms.
So that’s what I’ve been doing. I’m curious to see how much I agree/disagree with the Deranged Moms once The Baby arrives. I’m sure there’s some truth to what they’re saying about the exhaustion and such. And I certainly hope they’re right about loving motherhood. Guess I will find out soon enough.
Until then, wish me luck. And sleep. I need sleep. *runs and hides from the incoming Mom army*
About The Author
Amy Lister
Amy is the creative mind behind Oh Fudge A Muffin. She lives in the Midwest with The Husband (who serves as tech support for Oh Fudge A Muffin) and The Cat (who likes to jump on the keyboard while Amy types). Her interests include The Husband, being the favorite aunt to a posse of nieces and nephews, reading, listening to a variety of music, traveling, and living that sweet sweet blogger life.