poor bonnie

It is RAINING. And FLOODING. And we went outside and did a sun dance so now we all smell like mud and wet dog.

I bet Bonnie's got that rain problem. She also has another flood happening--me going on about mother's milk in her blog. Every now and then and I channel some demented Le Leche League Mom. Thank dog I didn't do that when I was nursing--or I hope I didn't. (Leslie? Please. Tell me I wasn't so bad?) There is nothing more annoyingly self-satisfied than a nursing mother with a fat contented baby. Something about the chemicals, I think, convinces her she's The Best Mother on the Planet with the Best Baby ever Born**. If I'd had a colicky baby, I'd face-plant a mother like that.

And later on, those mothers will know their toddlers are f*cking geniuses and are goddamn perfect. The smug mothers are right, of course. The toddlers are f*cking geniuses and they are perfect--and mind-numbingly adorable as well.

Thing is, nearly every toddler on the planet fits that description.

Been there, done that. It gets old. Being in love is wonderful, and mom-love can make romantic love look like a pale imitation. But it has to turn into something sane, eventually, or the kid might end up some kind of hideous monster.

It all makes sense: mom-love serves a function of allowing an obnoxious little creature survive. The shift from holy adoration to sensible love allows the obnoxious little creature to transform into a member of the bigger group.

former Best Damn Mother On the Planet with the (former) Best Babies Ever


_______

** except when the little bugger is screaming and should be tossed in the baby-pit. It all depends on the minute.

Comments

  1. I agree completely. Mother love is all about baby survival, because honest to God, anything else woke me up that many times during the night, shit on me, pissed on me, puked down my shirt and pulled out hanks of my hair? Totally justifiable homocide, my friends. Babies? "Awww, you cutsie widdle sweetie-kins, lemme just wipe that up... no, don't cry, Mommy lubs her new bald spot..."

    The other baby-defense mechanism is cuteness. All babies are cute so they don't get tossed out back with the annoying dog. "You wanna howl all night? Go bunk with Fido. Make it a 2 part harmony. See if I care!"

    Alas, I was never the Best Damn Mother On The Planet. I look down at my chest and think, "Not a food source--for recreational purposes only." Sorry.

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  2. My breastfed kid is totally the smartest, most wonderful....GAH I WANT TO STRANGLE HER I WISH SHE'D LET ME WRITE! DID THE BOOB MAKE HER SO MOMMY-NEEDY?...most beautiful little toddler to ever grace the Earth.

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