After the 342nd attempt to explain that I really need just another half hour of sleep, I would hope for some sympathy. But alas, I’m negotiating with a baby. Clearly, I’m losing my mind. Living with a miniature dictator who comprehends not a single word can drive anyone to the brink. And since infant sign language is limited to “potty” and “eat,” we’re both in for a bit of a struggle. Honestly, I would trade a year’s worth of cheese, chocolate, and even social media for the ability to convey the following to my little one:
- If I understood exactly what you wanted, I would get it to you much quicker. Considering I’m operating on about a quarter of my brain and only 45 minutes of sleep, I think I’m doing okay at meeting your needs!
- 3 a.m. is not the ideal time to engage in karate practice on the crib bars.
- Despite the stern look on my face or the tone of my voice, my love for you remains unwavering.
- If I leave during your mealtime, it’s not because I’m abandoning you to starve. I just really need to use the bathroom, and trust me, you’ll want me back before I need a diaper change too.
- Relish this carefree existence while you can. Once you learn to fold your pants, you’re going to miss these days of no responsibilities.
- It’s not your fault that you can only communicate through wailing, but how about trying some gentle cooing or perhaps a tiny harp?
- I get a little freaked out when you’re staring at a corner, laughing. Is there something I should know? Should I call in an exorcist?
- Your laughter is my kryptonite. That’s why I act like a silly fool around you. If it makes you giggle, I’ll do the chicken dance in my pajamas without a second thought.
- I’m not permanently leaving you when I put you to bed. There’s no need to shriek as if I’ve left you for a pack of wild animals!
- Waking up in a panic isn’t the best way to get my attention, even if it works. My heart might not survive if you keep it up!
- The chaos you create directly influences my desire to give you a sibling. So if you want to remain an only child, consider this your lucky day!
- If you could kindly aim your spit-up somewhere other than my pants, the rug, or your own hands—those always end up on my face—I’d greatly appreciate it.
- You’ll never know how many times I’ve dragged myself out of bed, half-asleep, to check on you in the middle of the night, even when I know you’re safe.
- When you arrived, I was just as clueless about being a mom as you were about being a baby. I’m still figuring it out!
You deserve a patient mom who prioritizes reading over TV and doesn’t curse when her last clean pair of jeans gets ruined. But what you get is me. I know I’m not perfect; I almost dropped you once, and sometimes I only notice your diaper is full when things get messy. But hang in there—I’m really trying, and I’ll continue to do so for as long as you’re my little one.
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