“10 Things New Moms Want to Tell New Dads” – The Clawson Version

One of my favorite things to do during my free time (besides stare at the kid and make sure he is still breathing…does the urge to do that ever stop?), is to hop on the trusty book of faces and see what newly published blog posts Scary Mommy has shared.  The articles range from serious to almost hilariously sacrilegious, but they always hit close to home, whether it makes me tear up or laugh my ass off.  Recently, however, they shared a blog post that I felt needed a few extra details, particularly as they relate to my husband.

See the original blog post below in bold and my additions in italics.

10 Things New Moms Want to Tell New Dads

1. You’re holding the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

But thank you for even WANTING to hold the baby.  Thank you for not being one of those people who freaks out when they come near an infant because they are squishy and fragile and squirmy and cry and poop.  Because when you went to work that one day last week to make sure America was still the land of the free and all that, he cried all day, and when you came home and held him so I could sit on the couch and do nothing, I wanted to jump your bones…but you know, we got that pesky 6 week wait…BUT I DIGRESS, THANK YOU FOR HOLDING THE BABY, even when I say, “OHMAHGAWD, WATCH HIS LITTLE FEET.” (As I’m typing this, you’re holding little man and trying to pinky promise him because, “we’re best buds”…I mean, really, you’re the best.)

2. You’re wiping the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Seriously, you probably know better than me how to get all the little bits down there clean.  So I’m just gonna let you claim this victory, A.

3. You’re putting the diaper on wrong. Do it anyway.

Guilty.  I am guilty as charged.  But thank you for changing his diaper without even thinking twice.  I know it seems like I save the poopy diapers for you (and sometimes I do, not going to lie) and I know that once we were settled at home, I was sure to show you how changed his diaper like I was the diaper messiah (heads up, little man’s was the first diaper I ever changed), but I really do appreciate you.  And let’s be honest, you saved my ass in the hospital…I couldn’t hold him, couldn’t change his diaper…and you did ALL of that.  So thanks, you’re my pal.

4. You’re burping the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

I’m sorry I birthed the gassiest child on Earth – not that you’re surprised, because you are married to the gassiest woman on Earth.  Burping the baby is like a SPEC OPS mission that sometimes goes horribly wrong.  It can end in a series of burps, hysterical crying, sharts…who really knows what the final outcome will be, and that goes for when I burp him or you burp him.  I will say, though…DON’T CRUMPLE HIM UP ON YOUR CHEST, HOW DO YOU EXPECT THE GAS TO GET OUT.

5. You’re bathing the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Hmmm…you should bathe the baby.  I will update after I witness it. 

6. You’re pushing the stroller wrong. Do it anyway.

Is there a wrong way to push a stroller?

7. You’re feeding the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Yeahhhhhh…I’m bad about this one…”you’re holding the bottle wrong,” “watch the air bubble,” “blah blah blahhhhhhh.”  Thanks for feeding the baby.  Thanks for getting up at night with little to no grumblings to feed the baby.  Thanks for sometimes taking two feedings in a row so I can get an unprecedented amount of sleep.  All in all, if food is getting in the tummy, all is well!  But for real, watch that air bubble…

8. You’re dressing the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

SOMETIMES, I FEEL LIKE YOUR BIG MAN HANDS ARE PUSHING TOO HARD ON M BABY’S HEAD WHILE STUFFING HIM INTO ONESIES.  But thanks for dressing him anyways, even when you know I’m going to make a comment about it.  I can’t help it.  

9. You’re soothing  the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Thanks for trying to soothe him when he is crying and we have done everything else in the world to make him stop.  If he doesn’t stop crying, toss him over.  Sometimes, a man just needs some boobies to cuddle into and a sweet voice to sing to them.  Not that you’re doing it wrong, necessarily, but I have some pretty decent assets to use for bouncing, snuggling, and loving on the little baby.  Thanks for trying, anyways.

10. You’re singing to the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Your voice is so deep…do you think he likes it?  Is it scaring him?  No?  He’s giggling?  Oh…well…carry on.

Please.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

P.S. We have no idea what the hell we’re doing, either.

Really, I don’t, and it helps that we are making up the rules together.

 

 

Head over to Scary Mommy to check out more parenthood hilarity!

Things I’m Bad At…

I feel that in order to know oneself, you must understand your own personal shortcomings.  And now that we have reached the 3rd day of January, our feeds have been inundated with New Years’ Resolutions, promises to get better, and horn toots into the wind as people expound upon their own personal amazingness (amazingness?).

Say what you will, but compiling a list of my faults is more beneficial to me than compiling a list of all the things I did right.  If I did them right, why spend any more time dwelling on them?

Without further ado, here is a list of the things I am bad at:

1.  Patience.  I am one impatient asshole.  Not only that, but I’m not even consistent about it.  The least I could do is ALWAYS be pissy.  But no…catch me on a bad day, and I will make you regret how long it took you to get down those stairs when I was calling your name.

2.  Respect.  Now, I’m respectful almost all the time…except during a few months every fall…FOOTBALL SEASON.  Let me just go ahead on the record of saying that I am a Bama fan deep down into my SOUL.  I BLEED crimson.  The second I stepped onto that campus my freshman year, toting all my belongings and looking in awe at the quad, tree lined streets, and beautiful old buildings, I knew I was home.  (I didn’t even move to Alabama until I was in high school…but if you ask me where I’m from, I will probably trumped my sweet home is Alabama.)  When you combine my love and pride of  my University with my…um…shall we say passionate? personality…it’s one volatile combination.  During football season, I’m a hateful bitch, spewing football statistics and talking strategy better than the men.  But…I’m not even nice about it.  Like…at all.  I will flay my opponents with my words, creating phrases that would make the devil’s hair curl.  It’s a gift, really.  Maybe I’m not so sad about this particular shortcoming…

3.  Maintaining Friendships.  Believe it or not, this has nothing to do with my first two items on this list, and everything to do with my own astonishing ability to burn bridges like a big dog.  In my short existence on this earth, I have moved…a lot.  We’re talking 4 states (really 5, but I have lived in one on two separate occasions) and countless cities, schools, jobs, and people have whirred by at the speed of light.  I do not regret all the moves we have made, because it prepared me to be a military wife and I was able to experience so many amazing things that I otherwise would have never been a part of.  However, with each move, I got worse and worse at keeping up with friends.  It was hard.  It was PAINFUL.  It kept me back from making friends in my current location.  So…I stopped keeping up with everybody.  Now, as the moves continue to pile on, I hold on to one or two really special friends from each location, and past that…I genuinely struggle with keeping up with people.  BUT HEY.  Communication is a two way street, so maybe this isn’t entirely my fault.

4.  Emotional Eating.  FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.  This one is an easy explanation.  When I’m sad, I eat.  When I’m mad, I eat.  When I’m happy, I eat.  It really has nothing to do with negative or positive emotions, and everything to do with HEIGHTENED emotions.  I mean…when I’m sad I need a cupcake to lift my spirits and when I’m happy I need a cupcake to celebrate.  Duh.  But really, I should probably find a better outlet for my emotional excess.

5.  Language.  The bad kind.  The filthy kind.  The kind where I say “fuck” every other word.  I’m not proud of this particular aspect of my personality, nor am I entirely sure when it began or how it started.  But damn, I have a mouth like a sailor.  Sometimes, while I’m at work, I feel all the words I can’t say build up inside me and when I’m in the car and can finally let them out, it’s like a can of biscuits busting and when you turn the can and open them, they finally have a place to go and relax.  You feel me??  This is something I should probably work on…especially before this kid pops out…but…fuck it.

 

And there you have it!  A list of things I’m bad at…and as I read over them…man…I should really work on some of this.  Is there anything you fly high on your bad banner?  Leave it in the comments!