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.
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.
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.
ReplyDeleteexactly.
ReplyDelete