Motherhood Week 9: Hardest Worst Job?

The interwebs makes it so we can all over-share our lives and then totally judge each other. Like when I scroll through my Facebook feed I see all these moms just lookin’hella happy with their babies and all bragging how their baby ate some food or how they’re so in love with their tiny people and how being a mom is the hardest best job and even knowing I have postpartum depression, I’m still like, are they for real? This job totally sucks.

I wake up every day so tired I actually wish I was dead,  just so I could get a really good uninterrupted sleep. Then Red Rasta wakes up and craps and I wrestle his little feet away from his poop covered balls and butt and change his diaper. Then I feed him and burp him after every ounce while he screams for the bottle(the burping after every ounce is supposed to help prevent spit up). Then he gets sleepy and I hold him upright  which is also supposed to prevent spit up. But when I put him down or change his diaper he usually spits up even with all the burping and uprightedness. He takes some short naps. He cries a little here and there and I change his diaper, try to burp him and then lay him down. Then pick him up. And that’s basically it. Sometimes he smiles and I say, “Are you smiling?” And I smile back and that’s nice. I dangle his toys in front of him and he looks at them. And that’s it. That’s my whole day. I watch tv in the background. I wash bottles and pump parts. I do laundry. Sometimes I feel like making dinner, usually in the slow cooker. But mainly I’m just tired and I sit around holding him until I get the juice to put him in the stroller and go for a walk.

I’m holding him upright as I type this with my thumb.

Oh and I pump my boobs for milk in an attempt to give him some breast milk to supplement his formula.

He’s gaining weight and growing. He coos. He does tummy time. He’s healthy and beautiful… But I feel really bored with the crappy diapers and the spit up and the sitting around. It’s SO annoying that he doesn’t nap long enough for me to do anything. I took like 15 breaks to give him his binky and suck snot out of his nose while sniffing his butt for poop just writing this paragraph. Oh he just farted so loud he woke himself up BRB.

I farted. Jealous?

So that was a non-pooping farting situation that did not require a diaper change. Red Rasta just feels like finishing up his nap on my person.

I don’t care if you want to exercise while I sleep. I’m cozy bitch!

How is this the hardest best job? It feels like the worst most boring job to me. A demanding boss that screams and grunts all of his requests. Tedious repetitive tasks. Exposure to bodily fluids. No benefits except a few smiles here and there and some adorable outfits. He doesn’t even look like me. Everyone says he looks like Husband. I think they may have a point.

I’m a wonderful husband, why are you so mean to me?

You should get a maternity test, bitch.

Taking care of the Red Rasta is a job and it’s definitely not work I am enjoying. No need to tell me it gets better, I know he won’t be a baby forever, but he is one right now and I reserve the right to write posts bitching about it–cuz there ain’t nobody to talk to at the water cooler.

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One thought on “Motherhood Week 9: Hardest Worst Job?

  1. Pingback: Motherhood Weeks 10-12: Traveling and Desperately Seeking Friends | Denver Bitch

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