I don’t want to start going into the pits and valleys of being a mom-to-be. There are a white page directory of those flying around the internet. Blogging about one’s kids or bellies is a worldwide obsession. It makes my head spin faster than a bit of morning sickness while carving up raw chicken. I never want to hear the “TMI” (“Too Much Information”) warnings on posts of a pregnant woman. It’s like apologising before you insult a loved one. These waaaaay too personal (WTP) ramblings get even worse when the actual babies arrive, with spit-up reports and countdown of hours slept each night. WHO CARES?!!! It’s a baby-love fest that’s sorely missing any adult stimulation. Mums always complain they need intellectual stimulation but aren’t they the one’s doing this brainwashing to themselves?
A few weeks ago a status update made its rounds on Facebook about how non-parents resent the birth of Babybook. I added friends because I wanted to stay in touch. not because I wanted a daily account of their loved one’s bowel movements, was the general gist of the grumblings. With adult-to-adult interaction you can give friends schtick. Smartass responses like “get your lazy ass off the couch!”, or “I never knew you knew how to langarm” are perfectly fine, but when the status update is about a baby’s ear infection, not only is it inappropriate, but it’s also just not so red-apple appealing.
In my mom’s day no one even knew what “dilating” meant, let alone putting your centimeters on their Facebook page!
Why, oh why, would you want to change your profile pic to that of your toddler’s? I don’t know that person!
Being an expectant mum now myself, I have promised future me that I will not do all those things. Ever. I promise to keep my mind sharp, my interest in people my own age, and my reflections of a PG-rate level.
Meantime, I am slowly watching my waist lose itself in swamp-like pudding layers (WTH?), and my bust surge to that of a matron. Let’ s see, what could possibly bring me back down to earth and keep me from “gaaning aan” (translated “going on” as we say in South Africa) about it while I really don’t want to even start talking about politics…a puppy! Yes, I am that crazy. To be continued…
Baby kisses and Puppies
Mummy-To-Be
