We’ve all been there. Just as you finally start to feel like you’re getting the hang of this parenting a tiny hairless monkey thing, it happens.
I’ve been there. With bells on. There were nights with Little Girl when I’d feel lucky if I’d grabbed 90 minutes sleep. I tried maybe 6758 things to try and get her to stop.
You can guess how many worked.
With that in mind, I like to that that I’ve developed a few special skills in natal hysteria prevention. I’m not saying I’m an expert or anything, but come on! I’ve done this three times. Surely I’ve learned something by now.
Yeah, well. Ask my eye bags if I’ve learned anything!
Anyway, read on my friends. Prepare to be enlightened…
1. Feed her. Ok, so I’m starting with the basics. But you know, it’s the easiest one!
2. Feed her again.
3. And again. Hmmm.
4. Say something suitably pointless, like, “Aww baby, what’s the matter?” Because you know, she doesn’t even know what a fucking foot is but she’ll tell you that no problem.
5. Stand up and do somekind of exaggerated rocking… thing. You know, the one that always works like a charm!
6. Huh, seems like the charm has worn off. You knew that confidence was misplaced!
7. Check for poop. Carefully now. Nothing, nothing, nothing, URGH!
8. While you’re there, strip you and the baby off for some skin to skin time. The magical solution, this has gotta be it. No small baby can resist warm snuggles with mama.
9. Wipe the vomit out of your cleavage. And crotch. Consider changing your trousers.
11. Get dressed again. Duh, it’s fucking February!
12. Google it one-handed while perching on the edge of the couch.
13. Check the baby’s clothes for irritating threads and labels. (Thanks for the inspiration, random baby-raising website!)
14. Change the baby.
15. Change the baby again.
16. Oh my God who made these clothes??
17. Weep. Copiously.
18. Lie down. Stand up. Sit down. Lie down again.
19. Recall that course you did on baby massage. Find your zen (and the oil). You’re not sure how relaxing this will be to the tune of 70 yowling cats in heat but hey, whoever said parenting was supposed to be easy?
20. Give up. Engage in precarious oily juggling match with a seriously slipping and fragile new baby. Gah!
21. Play some relaxing music. Switch to something perkier. Switch to Metallica. Turn it up. Like, all the way up.
22. Call someone. Anyone.
23. Call back when you can do something other than howl. Like, anything.
24. Walk in circles around the room. More. More. Whoa, too much!
25. Call NHS direct.
26. Answer a bunch of inane questions.
27. Get told to expect a callback in 4 hours.
28. Cry more.
29. Eat cake. Messily. Pick crumbs out of your baby’s many neck folds.
30. You know the ones.
31. Go for a walk. Go for a drive. Go… swimming. Who gives a fuck, just GO GO GO!
32. Contemplate performing an impromptu exorcism.
33. Just kidding.
35. Give up. Collapse, sprawling and dejected on the couch where all of this began.
36. Stare wide-eyed as your tiny, red-faced beast falls fast asleep on your chest.
37. Resolve not to move again for at least 12 hours.
38. Uh oh, nature calls!
So, how did I do? Yeah, I know. I’d like to tell you that I started out trying to be genuinely helpful…
But nope! I was just fucking with you.
Of course if all else fails, just hand them off to me. Apparently I’m really good with babies. As long as they didn’t come out of my vagina, that is.