Replacing a radiator, for example, is nothing but work--but you aren't likely to be taken seriously if you decide to be dramatic about the task. Even if you replaced ten radiators in one day, you can bet money that you could find a parent somewhere who would shrug and tell you about how they once had an eleven-diaper day. And nothing is worse than eleven dirty diapers--oh, you don't know humility until you touch that much poop! What's that--you have to push your internal hemorrhoids back in every time you have to flush twice? Applying cream doesn't count when its on yourself. *quickly changes subject*
A few of us have been listening. While years of charmingly condescending statements of how "nothing can prepare you" and "you won't understand until you have kids" have made it clear that some people 1) require the arrival of children in order to understand just how micro their world is, 2) seem to think that their children are self-validating proof that your life will never be as hard as theirs, and 3) believe there's a club, and you'll never be in it, the generally useless noise coming from the parent club has made me so ready for this baby that I may well punch the doctor right in the face as soon as the baby is out of his hands. I've been in a doctor-punching mood lately, anyway.
I am not going to sleep. I will put my family on my back and carry it until it can walk again. I will give and I will have no end.
I am ready. I am ready because I waited while everyone around me rushed in, found that they weren't ready, and decided that--because they weren't ready--no one can be ready! The things I'm told I won't continue to do after my kids arrive? Those who dispense such advice didn't do them before their kids arrived. Ohmygoodness, painting trim? You won't care about that when your kids are running around like bombs inside your house. You'll just laugh!
I may well laugh, but I'll do it with a paintbrush in my hand. Momma didn't raise a quitter, and I've got an example to set.
