Things No One Tells You :: Postpartum

Last week, I provided a list of things no one tells you in relation to pregnancy. I will admit that list isn’t too bad, but it was more of a precursor for this one anyways. Postpartum. The fourth trimester and beyond. The time in your life where you think to yourself “what the fuck is going on?” hourly, if not more. Again, there are tons of lists out there on the world wide web. They claim they will tell you things no one will about delivery and postpartum; again those lists are all the same, and its all in your “What to Expect…” book. Here are the things I wish someone had sat me down, looked me in the eyes and told me.

Things No One Tells You:
  1. Somewhere in the first week you will have a hormone dump. This usually
    Things no one tells
    The calm before the storm

    falls around the 4th night, but can vary person to person. This day is the worst; do not have visitors, do not plan to do anything, have lots of snacks and water ready, and have a helper. This hit me at about 4am on the 4th night, struggling to breastfeed, tired as fuck, clueless, I sat on the couch holding my baby and sobbing. Tyler sat next to me and just said over and over, “I’m so sorry I don’t know how to help you”. The hormone dump is brutal. I suggest writing it on the calendar so that when you think you’ve broken irreparably and you can’t be a mother, you can look at the calendar and go “oh, that’s why this seems so hard”, take a breath, and get through it.

  2. You will sweat. You probably read about this, but what they all fail to
    Things no one tells
    notice how I’m shirtless in nearly every pic? SWEATY MOFO

    convey is HOW MUCH you will sweat. You will wake up and feel like you’re in the Amazon, it will feel like the air is heavy and you might even feel a bit claustrophobic (another reason to avoid a summer birth.) You will wake up in the middle of the night drenched and needing to towel off. The baby will wake you up 30 mintues later, and you’ll need to towel off again. You will feel disgusting. I suggest buying a mattress protector and an extra set of sheets before D-Day, also keep a towel next to the bed, for convenience.

  3. Fluids. SO. MANY. FLUIDS. You will have heard about how milk will just pour out of your (no longer) funbags, about the lochia which can last up to 8 weeks, and I’ve explained the sweat situation already. Let me paint you a picture… You will wake up and feed the baby, feeling disgusting, you will hand the baby over to Dad and go have a shower; so you can feel less swamp monster, and more human. You will save time (and water) and pee in the shower, it is then that you will consider for a moment the absolute leaking mess that you are. Water, tears (the shower is a good place to cry and you’ll cry through many of them), sweat, pee, milk, lochia… You will feel very odd, and then you may even laugh like I did. Because WTF, a woman’s body is totally amazing and fucked up. You will get out and dry off, put your hair into a bun, grab a fresh enormous pad, and feel clean again, for a short time at least. That is your new heaven; feeling clean, a baby who is sleeping peacefully, drinking your coffee and eating your breakfast that your baby daddy made for you. ahhh.
  4. Breastfeeding blows. Yes, its amazing that you can nourish a child with only your tatas, and yes its an intimate time, just you and your little one. But seriously, cut the crap. Its fucking hard work, it can be uncomfortable to the point of torturous, and while there is more support than there has
    Things no one tells
    The day the milk and the hormones dumped. ooof

    been in millenia, there is still not enough. If your nips are sore to the point you are crying or dreading feeding your baby, I highly recommend seeing a lacatation consultant (I actually recommend seeing one even if you aren’t struggling, because there is always room for improvement. They may catch something that isn’t an issue now, but will be in the future). By the time I called Jodi, I had nearly broken my foot kicking the coffee table as Callahan would latch. My nipples were bleeding (which was alarming when Callahan spat up brown fluids) and raw and I hated life. Jodi will know when the next kid is born before any of our family does. If you are set on breastfeeding, spend the money and book with an LC in advance, you won’t regret it.

    1. In addition to breastfeeding being hard, it will KILL your libido- its not the fact you had the baby that kills it, its the breastfeeding (hormones are a mother fucker). And it lasts a LOOOOOONG ass time.
    2. Also, breastfeeding doesn’t ruin your breasts. Pregnancy does. The damage is done long before the milk comes in. Speaking of milk coming in, that is also a brutal day. Hot, sweating, leaking, hard as rocks, baby still doesn’t know what it’s doing… I wish you luck. I ran around like a chiken with my head cut off, my boobs looked like a fembot’s and Callahan wasn’t interested in eating that day to relieve the pressure. It was also the day of the hormone dump, yowza.
  5. Breastfeeding DOES NOT equal weight loss. Yes, it burns extra calories,
    Things no one tells
    Weight/gut still there. Also this was basically my uniform

    but you also have to eat more to sustain your milk. I’m sure there are some lucky bitches out there that swear they lost all the baby weight by breastfeeding, but that wasn’t me, nor was it most of my friends or relatives. I was SOOOO hungry. Given that I didn’t have any real cravings while I was pregnant, I was unprepared for this primal urge to eat. I couldn’t control it, I had to eat. I remember one day, when Tyler left the house for a few hours and I just scrounged food like a freaking raccoon and ate nonstop for 3 hours. I’m not exaggerating.

  6. Your hair will fall out at an alarming rate, you’ve probably heard this before; but it will do this for AGES. Callahan is over a year old and my hair is still falling out like mad. My hair receeded at the temples and I have those lovely little “mom bangs” all around my face. I look like a pubescent lion. No matter how much effort I put in, my hair looks like hell. My lovely friend and hair stylist told me not to wear my hair tight in buns and ponytails; but to braid it. Keep it loose to help with all of this. But its impossible since I can’t do anything other than a ponytail or a bun, and I am so sweaty, the hair HAS to be up.
  7. Joint pain is a bitch. The relaxin hormone is starting to subside, the extra weight, the fatigue, the sitting and feeding baby for hours on end; it adds up. I would wake up in the morning and my feet would hurt to walk, I
    Things no one tells
    so much time on the couch

    would waddle, making quick little steps to avoid putting too much weight (haha) on them. It would take a solid 20 minutes before they stopped hurting. They would ache again if I was sitting for a while. My knees ached, getting off the couch became a struggle. You can also become susceptible to “mother’s wrist” which is caused by putting your wrist at weird angles to hold your baby while feeding or carrying. (Try to support the baby with your arm, leaving your wrist in a neutral position.) I “threw my back out” almost monthly, carrying him, sitting, tight muscles, relaxin, baby seat, strollers, etc… there’s a lot of pressure on your body, pretend you’re still pregnant and get other people to do stuff for you. Take it easy, and go to the RMT and Chiropractor. When you’re cleared for take off, see a trainer that specializes in postpartum fitness.

  8. Loss of bladder control is VERY common, but NOT normal. If you have
    Things no one tells
    hair always up. shirt never on.

    these issues, see a Pelvic Floor Physiotherapist. It will change your life. If you’re a mature woman who’s kids are long grown, they can still help you. I only had 3 appointments and saw a difference in my control and my back problems after the first appointment. Your pelvic floor is the foundation of your body, if there is an issue there, nothing else will be truly fixed despite all your efforts.

I think the thing I was not prepared for (most pissed about) was how long all of these things last. For real, Callahan is over one, I stopped breastfeeding completely 3 months ago, and I still have some of these lingering on! My rings will now go on, but won’t come off. My feet still ache in the morning but not as bad, my joints and back are finally feeling better, my hair still falls out like mad, and the weight is still there, but slowly going away (like molasses uphill in the winter), and I still sweat like a mofo! Although not as bad as the time immediately after birth, but it’s not a cute amount to be sure.

Considering I had a smooth pregnancy, I would say I hated the postpartum feelings more than a third trimester in the summer or actually giving birth. I’ve said it many times since, but those first few weeks were so hard with all of the above, and our difficulty breastfeeding, that I would have given birth 3 times a week for 3 weeks than deal with that again. People focus on what your body is doing during pregnancy, and then they focus on the baby, but what we really need to be talking about is Mom and her body in those postpartum months (and months, and months). Add in any amount of postpartum depression/anxiety/blues/rage (yes, postpartum rage is a thing) and you’ve got quite a hole to climb back out of.

Things no one tells
would do it over again in a heartbeat

So there is my list of things I wish someone would have told me. Try to find the humour in it all. Yell at your tv, or cry in the shower. Ask for help, and more help. You will all survive this and thrive. When people ask you how you’re doing, tell them the truth; no one can help you if you don’t tell them what you need; even if all you want is to stop spewing fluids like a colander.

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Things People Say to Pregnant Women and Shouldn’t

Things People Say to Pregnant Women
my face when you say any of these things to me

If you’ve ever said any of these things, you’re forgiven, but don’t do it again. No one wants to hear these things because they are unnecessary and rude. The most amazing thing about being pregnant, is how the second people find out, they think they can start asking you personal details and commenting on your body/mood and comparing you to their female relatives (how much weight have you gained? have you experienced the hornies yet? You look just like my daughter did and she had complications) these are things only your doctor and *sometimes* your baby daddy are allowed to ask, and they are certainly NOT appropriate to be coming from a coworker.

Things People say to Pregnant Women and Shouldn’t:

 

You’re getting so big!!

This is not a compliment, and hasn’t been since I was 4 years old. Unless I’m bulking up for a bodybuilding competition, and you’re discussing the girth of my bicep, never say this again.

I think he/she is going to be a big baby!!

I fucking hate you. Do you think the baby will be big because I’m clearly way bigger than Things People Say to Pregnant WomenI should be, or because you think I want to hear that the HUMAN that will make its debut through my vagina or a literal hole in my abdomen, is going to be gigantic? STOP saying this!!

You look ready to pop!!

I am no where near ready to pop you fuckstick. Also, humans generally don’t “pop”.

Breastfeeding ruins your boobs

No it doesn’t. Pregnancy “ruins” them. All the stretch marks and sagging you may have experienced was caused during pregnancy when they got porn star levels of huge; it just wasn’t noticable until that started to subside- after the breastfeeding.

Things People Say to Pregnant WomenYou’re eating for two!!

No. I’m eating for 1, and making sure its healthy, for 2. In the first trimester you don’t actually need any more calories than normal. In the second trimester, you need about 300 cal more than normal, and in the third trimester up to 500 cal more. So no, check your math skills, I am not eating for 2.

Who cares how big you get!

I care, my doctor cares, my baby cares. Gaining weight just because you’re pregnant is foolish and can be dangerous. Most things are left to genetics, but that doesn’t mean you can go buck wild on treats and food just because you’re pregnant. There can be serious medical consequences to gaining too much weight. Not to mention the more weight you gain the more you have to lose afterwards, because the baby/placenta/fluids, boobs/swelling probably only weigh between 10-15 lbs, the rest is a hole you’ve dug for yourself. It is really stressful trying to make sure you’re doing the best for your baby, and having people tell you to do the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to be doing, doesn’t help.

That weight will come off easily chasing the baby and breastfeeding!

I’m gonna smack you. You don’t “chase” a baby for months, and breastfeeding does not equal weight loss for everyone.

 

Things People Say to Pregnant Women
at a wedding 3 days before birth

Something people fail to realize, is that the shape, size, overall look of a woman’s bodyΒ while pregnant has almost nothing to do with weight gain and everything to do with where the baby is positioned, and her bone structure. Some people can eat perfectly, never going over on a calorie, always staying active and still get “enormous”. Some people can eat whatever they want and gain only what they needed, and then bounce back to pre-baby weight in a month (they are the chosen ones). A woman’s body should not be commented on by anyone other than her doctor. Some women never look pregnant, and wish they did, so telling them “you don’t look pregnant” isn’t a compliment either. Seriously just stop commenting on a woman’s body, pregnant or not.

Things you CAN say to a pregnant person:

Nothing pregnancy related unless she brings it up… then “you look great!” is the only safe response.

 

 

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Things No One Tells You :: Pregnancy

Things No One Tells
You WILL get to balance food on your belly A+

While I was pregnant, I googled A LOT. I was so fascinated by the fact was growing a human, I wanted to know every cool and weird little factoid I could. I also googled a lot of things to prepare myself. And yes, to check and see if that was normal. I have a bone to pick people!!! WHY DO PREVIOUSLY PREGNANT PEOPLE HIDE THE FACTS?!?! And don’t spout off to me about amnesia and whatnot. Seriously, there were so many things I would have LOVED to know about in advance. Also, when I was searching and clicking on every post that said “Things no one tells you about pregnancy” they were all the same lists, and all common knowledge.

Things No One Tells You:
  1. Maternity Clothes are fucking boring. You are excited about all
    Things No One Tells
    not maternity clothes

    the cute things you’ll get to wear; you’ll be just as stylish as all those celebrities, but on a budget. NOPE. That’s a hard pass little miss. What is available to you in stores, is matronly and pricey. Oh and if you do find cute things, they’re likely online, in a foreign currency, with no way to try them on, and oh yea, you’ll have to give up that baby your cooking to be able to afford it.

  2. Materinty pants SUCK. You think they will be the best given the lack of a wasitband, but all they do is slide down your ass with each step because THERE IS NO WAISTBAND. Seriously, don’t waste your money on pants and just stick to leggings and dresses.
  3. Cramping is normal. Don’t panic.
  4. Things No One Tells
    Still NOT maternity clothes

    Your deoderant will at some point give out on you. And then it will give out on you again during the postpartum phase. One minute you smell like coconuts and sunshine and the next you’re sniffing around looking for that homeless guy that must be nearby, only to realize its you.

  5. You will chafe, and you will waddle. Even if you think you’re doing pretty good and walking normally; if you ask anyone around you, they will either lie or tell you that you do, in fact have a cute (NOT CUTE) waddle.
  6. If you forget a prenatal here and there don’t lose your shit, the kid is ok.
  7. Pregnancy pillows are a must and your bedmate will HATE it. But they can fuck right off with that complaint.
  8. Yeast Infections. Yup. If you’ve never had one, you’re in for a treat. I got
    Things No One Tells
    Exercising my usual level of DGAF

    one at about 5 weeks and spent the rest of my pregnancy with it. Thankfully, I was not uncomfortable, only disgusted and embarrassed. And before you start giving me suggestions on how to deal with this, I tried everything under the sun and nothing caused it to subside.

  9. Bladder Infections are also super common, and the antibiotics are fine. Don’t stress out. Deal with it properly because it can be bad for the fetus.
  10. You may not feel the pregnancy hornies and may hate the touch of your partner… or anyone for that matter. Its normal, and it will probably continue through the postpartum period.
  11. You won’t care about your looks. For some of us, this will be the first time experiencing this phenomenon. It is AMAZING. I don’t mean you don’t care, so you don’t try (although I dabbled with that method for most of my pregnancy). What I mean is, you won’t be sucking your gut in to look skinny, you won’t be worried about if you had a big lunch, you won’t be self conscious. I remember feeling truly free during this period. I’m actually jealous of my pregnant friends because they are experiencing this amazing feeling right now.
Things No One Tells
Never felt more comfortable in a bikini!!!

This may not be a life changing list for you, but its what I would have loved to know. If I may pass along one thing a friend told me:

In pregnancy, everything is normal until its not normal.

So chill dude.

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Sniper Fire in L.A. : A Babymoon Story

If you recall, while I was pregnant we were living with Tyler’s parents. We were desperate for a vacation, a weekend away from work, from our roommates, from everything. Knowing this would likely be our last chance to get away just the two of us for… a while, we decided to go for it. We would have loved to make a trip down to Mexico and lie on the beach, Tyler consuming copious cocktails at the all inclusive, while I drank mocktails and tried not to get sunburned. Alas, we were still looking for a house and trying to save money, and there was the whole Zika thing to keep an eye on. So we decided we’d fly down to Santa Monica for our babymoon.

sniper fireWe got permission from our doctor and booked flights during my second trimester (hands down the best trimester, 9 out of 10 pregnant ladies agree). It was springtime, so we anticipated decent weather, and little to no crowds. Of course the weather ended up being freaking gorgeous back home (although I would have complained about the heat had we been here). There was a thick marine layer keeping us from getting too warm or sun burned- it was perfect. We booked this airbnb a few blocks up from the beach, which was awesome and so were the hosts.

We spent some time each day chilling on the beach, although not much swimming as the water was still a little chilly; but we got to nap, see dolphins swimming, and let my belly be free.

Our plan for the second night was to go watch a Dodger’s game, but didn’t take into sniper fireaccount how long it would take to get there. Tyler, checking out the route the previous night at 10pm had an approximate time of 40 minutes from our Airbnb to the stadium. But that LA traffic is truly as nuts as they claim it to be. We ended up giving up after 2 hours in bumper to bumper traffic and heading to the Hollywood Walk of Fame. We searched out Jeff Bridges’ star, dodged street performers, andΒ watched a couple nice young men comply with commands as they were taken into police custody.

The next day we planned better, and left for the game 4 hours before it began.

YES, 4 HOURS.

sniper fireWe ended up getting there really fucking early, but the alternative was sitting in traffic and missing the game again if we left any later. We got to watch some warm ups, and scope out the food and drinks. I ate my way through the innings; garlic fries, hot dogs, rootbeers, ice cream, you name it, I ate it. Despite my large-ish size I still had a psycho superfan ask me to get out of her seat (a stool, in a common area, that she was not using). I didn’t argue or point out the fact that I was pregnant or there were seats a little further down, because she looked like a maniac. Head to toe Dodger’s crap, glittery patterns, I’m fairly certain the stadium had thrown up its garbage all over her.

The next day we headed to Venice Beach, stopping at In’n’Out Burger on the way. We hung out on the beach for a little while, dozing in and out of greasy consciousness and letting the sun keep us warm like a pair of old cats. After some lounging we decided to walk around the little stores near the beach and grab something to drink. While walking on the outside of a FLAT sidewalk, I looked up into a store front and that’s where things went sideways…

sniper fire
R.I.C.E.

I caught the edge of the sidewalk where they had planted a tree. My ankle rolls completely, my knee gives out, I let out a yelp and start falling forwards towards the ground, arms flailing slightly behind me. Tyler standing next to me, completely stunned, watches as gravity and momentum take control. He will tell you, it was as if I had been hit by sniper fire. There was no warning, you didn’t even hear the shot before I started to go down. Like a scene from Saving Private Ryan (without the honour), I fell towards the earth; my belly and torso leading the charge, my limbs and head wildly trying to catch up.

As I fall forward, I notice an object in my trajectory; a vintage children’s tricycle. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT DOING THERE?! Somehow, I manage to get my hands in front of me; landing on all fours over the tricycle, like some sort of fucked up National Geographic documentary. My belly thankfully only mildly hitting the tricycle. To my rescue came my husband, and what looked like an Outlaw Motorcycle Gang member. They helped me up and hid the strain of helping me over to a chair. I try to keep my crying to a minimum, and thanked the leather-clad good Samaritan for his assistance. I tell Tyler I’m done, its definitely a sprain and that I need some ice. He ran off to get me some ice, and once that was on my pudgy, bulbous ankle, he went to get the car.

I apologized for ruining the trip, pointing out that I had even worn proper shoes to avoid this from happening. We went back to our digs for some old fashioned RICE magic. We debated between ordering a pizza from Domino’s or sticking to our plan of going out for a nice seafood feast.

sniper fireEventually we left the house and arrived at, unbeknownst to us, a super chic restaurant. They had valet, they had sexy servers and clientele; we had no reservation. I was wearing one flip flop and only a tensor bandage on the other foot. No crutches, sporty shorts and a t-shirt. Tyler essentially, dressed to match. They said we could sit on the couch and if a table came up we could move. The couch was perfect given my ridiculous state. When the server came over to take our drink order, I was sprawled across this couch. My foot elevated on the coffee table and all the pillows piled up behind me. Tyler was no better, slouching so much he was becoming one with the couch. You could see her think “Dear God, what am I in for?”.

These couches were for people to sit and have a cocktail while they waited for their table; and here we were, 2 people acting like this was our God damn living room. Sexy singles and classy couples came through, dressed to the nines. They squished politely onto the other couch, avoiding us at all costs. We told our server we were fine to stay here, and I think she eventually warmed up to us; especially after we explained what had happened. We ate our delicious seafood, and lounged like we owned the place. Eventually we hobbled out of there with less fucks than we had coming in.

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Tiny Apartment Trials

In 2011 I bought a condo in Abbotsford. It was tiny, but it was all I needed. I had the option to go to the one bedroom with the patio; but since it was my first home purchase, the 20,000 extra dollars sounded like a lot. Man, how short sighted I was.

tiny apartment
What my evenings used to look like

It didn’t take long to realize, I should have spent the extra money. But it worked for what I needed. I was a single gal, with my dog and cat, working that shift work life. My Friday and Saturday nights (or Tue & Wed in the real world) were often just me and the animals; watching TV or reading, and eating popcorn and drinking water. I was tired from the shifts (hahaha, hahaha, oh so clueless).

tiny apartment
The Pet Condo

I had a zebra-print rug in the living room, the “bedroom” was a dark purple and had an Ikea chandelier over the bed. The bathroom was decorated with pictures of my shoes, and hair, everywhere. There was a pet condo, as I liked to call it, in the livingroom; the cat’s carrier piled on top of the dog’s crate. Where each night I tucked them in, because I was tired of suffocating in my sleep from the weight of these furry beasts.

The apartment was great until I got a boyfriend, who had a mutual hatred of my pets and a slight allergy to the fat cat. It was also too damn hot in there to have anyone over in the summer. Since the closets were rammed to capacity, it was clear we would not be able to live here together. I switched places with his roommate, and adopted the cat out to a friend.

For the next 2 years, the apartment was a flop house for a number of the rugby guys. Sleeping on the couch and the floor, I can only imagine what horrors those walls witnessed. Eventually my sister and her boyfriend moved in. They were accustomed to tiny living after spending a year in Dublin, in what can basically be summed up as a wet closet. They lived there for 2 years, until I had to toss ’em so my pregnant ass could move back in; dog and husband in tow.

While we were living in the condo, we experienced a great number of funny, weird, stressful, and of course happy moments. The stress of bringing a baby home for the first time is well documented. Bringing him home to such a small place was bound to make things harder. In the end, no matter how short-tempered or irritated we were with each other, both of us just blamed the apartment.

Honestly, we barely had any arguments while we were living there because every time something pissed us off, we would stop and think; “this probably wouldn’t bother me if we were living in a bigger place, fucking apartment”. And that would be the end of that. It got to the point where we were both a little worried that there were real issues that needed to be dealt with and we were just blaming the apartment and not dealing with them. In the end, it really was just the apartment, or we’re too lazy to remember what was bothering us.

The hardest part about the apartment was the fact that Tyler was still working shift work. When he was on nights, I’d have to leave the house with Callahan for a few hours in the afternoon, because Callahan would wake up from his nap and go bananas; yelling, smashing, you name it, all while Tyler was trying to sleep.

tiny apartment
what my evenings looked like with a baby

For the longest time, Callahan went to bed around midnight. Which meant Tyler would go to bed for his early shifts and leave me sitting in the dark on the couch, TV turned way down, cluster-feeding (hell on earth) for 2 hours. This was the hardest time for me; I was tired, I wanted to sleep, and I just wanted Callahan to sleep. Not to mention the absolute nightmare that is cluster-feeding. I’d sit there silently crying some (most) nights praying he’d fall asleep and stay asleep for the night. Eventually he became too distracted by the TV or my phone, and I’d be literally sitting in the dark, with my tired thoughts; questioning my instincts, my skills, my decisions. I would sit there hating Tyler and then feeling guilty for it, because I knew he’d rather be at home with the baby than going to work.

Eventually we were able to get Callahan to go to bed at a regular time and that was heaven. In the morning, I’d push our bed to one wall, and roll his crib next to the bed. That way Callahan could nap in the “bedroom” where it was darker. We’d get him to bed and then we’d eat some dinner; in semi darkness, TV down, whispering, usually drinking something alcoholic to celebrate our success. When we wanted to go to bed, we’d get ready as quietly as possible, turn the lights off, move the sound machine to the kitchen, and carefully roll his crib out into the hallway. Then we’d pick it up and carry it to his “bedroom” 3 feet away in the kitchen. A silent fistbump as we got into bed, after successfully not waking him.

tiny apartment
Odd(fluffy)ball neighbours

Apartment living comes with experiencing your oddball neighbours. Once in a while I would be worried we were the oddball neighbours with the dog and baby in the tiny apartment. It wouldn’t take long before someone would reassure me I wasn’t. One day while the fire inspectors were in checking the alarms, our neighbour (who looked like the janitor from Harry Potter) had a sign on his door, “Fire Inspector Cum inside”. Oh boy.

There was another night while we were up late with Callahan; I was standing there, rocking him and looked out the window to see a young Asian couple spray painting their Mustang GT in the parking lot. They were wearing slippers and face masks. What the actual fuck? This car was brand new, and they had masking tape and newspapers all over it. I’m still not sure what it ended up looking like, and question whether they even lived there.

Because there was only one window that opened, we would regularly crash the in-law’s place for dinner; hoping they were making something delicious, like fish, which was a giant NO-NO in our apartment. Our timing was impeccable, arriving right as the table was being set, and Callahan had fallen asleep in the car. Of course this all worked out because my Mother-in-Law cooks as if there are 6 people in the house. Thanks by the way!!

All in all, living small was a good experience, it was difficult, and if you can avoid it I would suggest it, but we learned some valuable things, like:.

  1. We are really good at compartmentalizing our frustration/anger.
  2. Or we’re really good at laying blame elsewhere, hard to say.
  3. We are amazing.
  4. We love our new house.

I realize these aren’t helpful lessons to anyone else, so stay tuned for my next post with tips, tricks, and reviews of baby gear for small living.

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