I love babies. Really there is little more magical than feeling their soft little head under your cheek or their tiny little fingers wrapped around yours, but I’m convinced that newborns are bundles of cute for a more sinister reason.
Because they suck.
1. Newborns Have No Chill
How a tiny human can be happily cooing, drooling, and pooting away one second and then screaming the primal cries of ultimate betrayal the next, I’ll never understand, but it’s apparently totally possible, and newborns do, in fact, possess this unique skill.
2. Eat, Sleep, Poop, Repeat
During their first few weeks of life, babies are tiny balls of wrinkly skin slowly sucking the life out of you, and I don’t even need science to prove it. They literally suck magical baby growing juice from your breasts, interrupt sleep better than a CIA interrogator, and then poop all over every stitch of clothing (theirs AND yours) so that you’re either using every spare moment to wash laundry or saying fuck it and hanging out in diapers all day. #noshame
3. Why are you crying?!
Seriously, why are you crying?
I have genuinely found myself asking my baby this on multiple occasions. We sit on the bed together staring at each other hopelessly. She cries. I cry. Neither one of us knows what’s going on. Good times.[adrotate group=”3″]
4. All Sleep and No Rest
18 hours of sleep a day sounds great when you’re reading about it during pregnancy. Then the demon spawn is born, and you realize that 18 hours divided into irregular and impossibly small increments with an hour of painful breastfeeding in between feels like nothing… nothing wrapped in nipple pain, dipped in hunger, and shrouded in the fog you now call daily life.
5. Pouch Animals
I’m convinced human babies were meant to be born to moms with pouches, only Mother Nature forgot to give me one with a hole. Sure, I’ve got a pouch alright, thanks to this perfectly infant sized belly of loose skin, but sadly, no matter how hard she tries my fussy newborn can’t squirm her way in.
I think in my next reincarnation, I’d like to come back as a kangaroo. Then I could give birth to a baby so small I won’t even feel it, make it do all the work to get to my boob, and, when I’ve had enough for the day, yell, “Get in my belly!”
Yup. That’ll be the plan for my next go ’round.
In the mean time, I’ll be here huffing the top of my newborn’s head and praying I make it to the 10 month sleep regression alive.