I’m currently reading “Inconsolable: How I Threw my Mental Health Out With the Diapers” by Marrit Ingman, who happens to be an Austin Mama. She writes about her post partum depression and her baby’s allergies, both of which were so serious it’s amazing she managed to write something funny. But not ha-ha funny. More like gouge-your-eyes-out funny. And I can relate.
I was very interested to find her blog, which she has kept up since her kid was born 4 years ago. I’ve read through the first year or so… the bad year. But although the stories are the same as in the book, the blog seems several degrees more chipper. Which makes me wonder, which one is more true to life? I suspect the book. And this is why: Just about every mom-blog I read is sweet and glowing and stuffed with cute stories about their perfect genius children. I do the same thing. And of course it’s “true”, but that’s not all there is. There’s also a lot of horrible shit: days you suspect your child is possessed, days you want to run screaming from the house, days you think your adult relationships will never survive, days you think your mother tricked you into believing children are wonderful, days you never ever ever want to look at a bottle, board book or boppy again. Yeah, there are the major “you’ll look back on this and laaaaaugh” traumas. But there are also the little niggling frustrations that add up, week after week, until you feel like a horrible person for seriously wanting to quit this parenting job. Those are the worst.
Honestly, if I hadn’t managed to find myself a mama-posse, I would be in a nut-house. And so would Rob. When we mamas are together we can talk about the hard times, without necessarily having to boil it down to a witty post on a blog. Because, although we probably will look back on this and laugh, while we’re living through the hard times, it’s not so ha-ha funny.