And bebe makes three...

So, it's like this - I'm a mom now. Which doesn't excuse why I haven't written anything for at least 5 months, but I was kinda busy harvesting the child that is now sleeping at all hours of the day, while I'm...not.

As I have the baby monitor parked besides me, practically in fear that she will wake up after I just put her down, I consider the fact that this morning at 5 am, I was completely wasted, uttering jibberish with spit-up in my hair. Which goes to show the wierd trajectory of my life since the last time I found myself in this position was in my college days, stumbling out of a club.

I could tell you all about the joys of motherhood in the month since she's arrived or even the excitement of awaiting her arrival while pregnant, complete with birds singing around my head and bunnies hopping around my feet, just like in Disney films. But this is Moi we're talking about. So let me lay out it out like this:

1) I had a pretty easy pregnancy, only exacerbated by the fact that I worked with crazy people. Given the situation of her mom's co-workers and bosses who Simply Did Not Give A Shit what condition she was in, I'm relieved to say my child was born healthy and, from what I gather, relatively unaffected. But anything that she throws at me - even if it's twenty years from now -that's easy, I will blame it on my current job.

2) Ladies, no amount of preparation can ready you for the actual delivery of a child. Nothing. Nada. So the next time you're sitting in your birthing class that you plunked down your credit card for and they do you the injustice of whipping out a video (yes, as in VHS, not DVD) from the 1980s...call Bullshit and demand your money back. You do not want to suffer through watchng a husband-and-wife team with matching mullets going through the process, he in parachute pants and coaching her to "ride the waves" up until the baby's born. Yes, that's right. He said that. But when he's talking about riding the waves, he means the waves of PAIN.

Hey, at least I'm being honest and MY advice is free.

3) When they say, pack your bag and have a plan, they mean it. You do not want to be me like me and find yourself in labor a week before our due date, parked on the sidewalk in an office chair at 4 in the morning, while your husband runs a 2-block radius around you looking for a cab, any cab. John Travolta is practically begging for this to be written into a treatment of Look Who's Talking 4 for the shot in the arm his career so badly needs.

Doing that Scient-ah-lagy hoodoo he loves so much

What is true is that nothing prepares you for the arrival of your own child. Especially if you were not really a Baby Person like me and can only handle kids after the age of 2. Like a heat-seeking missile, your own kid will come into the world and pretty much blast through all the defenses constructed over the so many years you've existed before they graced this Earth.

Which is why I am completely wasted and uttering jibberish with spit-up in my hair at 5 am in the morning. And, for the most part, loving it.