I have no idea what I’m doing.
She will surely be speaking to a therapist in a few decades about her horribly inadequate mother who never knew what she was doing.
Am I a bad mother because I rap Biggie and Tupac songs while changing her diaper?
Am I a bad mother for finishing up the last bites of my banana if she is crying?
Am I a bad mother because I surf the internet on my phone while nursing?
Am I a bad mother?
DON’T DROP THE BABY.
If you think about dropping the baby, you will surely drop the baby.
Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.
Why is she crying?
I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no idea what I’m not doing. She is crying for one of those reasons.
Wait, is she seriously hungry again?
I literally just stopped nursing her 20 minutes ago…
Why do you time nursing intervals from the beginning of one session to the beginning of the next?!
Holy cow, she has the best smile ever.
Is that the cat or the baby?
Do I want to mess with either the stretchy wrap, woven wrap, or soft structured carrier to take the dog out this time?
How many more buckles can this Lillebaby carrier possibly have?
Do not drop this baby while putting her in the carrier.
Will she ever sleep, or is that just not a thing she does anymore?
Today’s goal is to be okay with not achieving today’s goals.
What if I fell down with the baby in my arms?!
For the love of god, DON’T fall down with or drop the baby!
She makes the cutest noises known to man.
How does she have so much lint in her hands?
She is so cute when she sneezes.
She is so cute when she coos.
She is so cute when she lives and breathes.
She is so damn cute!
How did poop get on the side of her onesie?
I need to thank Kristen for telling me you can take a onesie off from the top down.
What if she suddenly learns to roll while on the changing pad?
I really want to staple pillows to the floor just in case she falls or I drop her.
I should keep 10 burp clothes in every corner of the house.
I can’t believe how big she is already.
I can’t believe my milk made her so big.
I can’t believe I actually birthed this tiny human.
Is it normal to reflect upon her birth so often?
Is there a word that’s kind of like “traumatized” but a little less extreme? That is how I feel about that whole birthing experience.
How is she already holding her head up so well?
She is basically the most advanced baby ever.
Should I be playing Mozart for her or something?
Do I dare to leave the house when I have to nurse her so often?
How cool are Seattleites about the whole breastfeeding in public thing?
Get up slooooowly, do not wake the baby.
I should probably work on getting her to nap in her bassinet and not on me.
NOPE. Naps in the bassinet will never actually happen, so I should probably just do what works for now.
How badly am I screwing up this kid?
I hope she will like me when she grows up.
I seriously, seriously have no idea what I am doing.
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