New Mommy Confessions - Part 2

Well, since my first New Mommy Confessions post a few weeks ago went over so well, I thought I'd spill a little more.

 Read Part 1 here.

- I cannot for the life of me remember the words to a single lullaby or nursery rhyme, yet I know all the words to "Call Me Maybe," so I sing that to Mac.  Complete with Valley girl dance moves and my hand in the shape of a phone to my ear.  He loves it and I hate myself.

- I've lost just about none of the baby weight.  It's much easier just to buy new clothes than to actually work out or diet.

- I'm still planning on doing Baby Led Weaning with Mac, but I made sweet potatoes the other night for dinner and couldn't resist smashing some up and letting him try them.  I was SO excited!  I took got everything all set up, waited for my husband to get home, had the camera out and was absolutely convinced that Mac would go nuts over them.  NO.  He hated them.  HATED is an understatement.  Like made the worst, most disgusting faces I've ever seen.  He looked at me like I was torturing him - like he was saying, "What the fuck is this shit? No, I will no eat it."  And then he threw up all over me.  I guess I deserved it.  However, I did get some good "torture" photos...coming soon to a blog near you.

- Mac's had two little "colds" already - not really sick, just dealing with a lot of snot and congestion.  Poor little guy cannot breathe with all that snot in his face.  So, what's a mom to do but suck it out.  On the advice of friends I bought the NoseFrida snot sucker.  Holy shit, this thing is so gross it's cool.  Yes, I literally suck the snot out of my kid's face.  With. My. Mouth.  And it's awesome.  Yeah, I said it.  Who is this mommy person and what has she done with the girl formerly known as Sara?

- Boobs.  Wow.  I'm not going to get into details, but post-pregnancy breastfeeding boobs are unreal.  My husband is a happy man.  I'm pretty sure he'd agree to having another couple kids just so these boobs will come back.

- My baby lives in pajamas. Yes, he has jeans and some shirts and even a pair of shoes or two, but he never wears them.  He wears jammies 99% of the time.  Preferably fleece footie jammies with monkeys or puppies or duckies on the butt.  I just can't get over the cuteness of them.  Plus, they're easy and really comfortable.  Why bother with anything else?  He's worn pants a grand total of about 3 times in his little life and they drive me nuts!  How do you keep them on?  I never realized babies don't have hips or a waist.  Plus the shirts ride up and the socks fall off.  It's a mess.  I just feel like he has the rest of his life to wear "clothes" - why start now?

- Sometimes (always), when Mac spits-up, I let the dogs clean it up off the hardwood.  So gross, yet so convenient.  I love those dogs.

- I swear having a baby makes you dumber.  This is one of those little secrets that no one tells you before you have kids.  I've talked to other moms about this and it's true!  You have a child and you will automatically lose millions of brain cells...maybe billions.  I don't exactly know, I'm too stupid to count that high.  Maybe it's months of sleep deprivation or all the Dr. Suess and baby talk, but whatever is going on here, I don't like it.  The other day I was driving to lunch and forgot where I was going.  I had to pull over on the side of the road and think about it for a minute.  And I honestly misspelled my name the other day.  MY FIRST NAME.  I put an "h" on the end of Sara.  WTF?!  I've been telling people my whole life it's "Sara without an H" and there I go messing it up.  I've heard it only gets worse the more kids you have, so I should pretty much quit my job now so I don't end up in prison for malpractice.

- I'm already buying stuff for potential, in-the-future, not-yet-in-existence Baby #2.  What?!  I know.  I couldn't help myself.  Don't tell my husband.

- Speaking of over-buying, Mac has 4 Halloween costumes.  FOUR.  For one kid, for one day.  I have a problem.

- The dogs also have multiple costumes.

Alright, your turn...spill your mommy confessions.  Go.