As most of you know I recently welcomed my 2nd daughter June into the world. And while I’m taking a few weeks off I wanted to give a few of my favorite bloggers the opportunity to write a couple of guest posts while I’m out. I am sure you will find their posts as entertaining and enjoyable as I do.
So without further adieu, I’d like to welcome my first guest blogger –
Andrea Archambault from AndreaArchambault.blogspot.com.
I’ve been a mom to fur babies long before Brody came along. While pregnant, I was convinced that Peanut, Zayla and Zora had somehow prepared me for motherhood. Boy, was I right. Granted, Brody is only 7-months-old, but so far, Tank and Terror are pretty much the same:
- In order to avoid scrubbing carpets, there’s absolutely no hesitation to stick out your hands and catch whatever bodily fluid may be coming atcha.
- Saying phrases like “don’t eat your hand” and “how did you get poop on your foot” are super legit. And pretty common.
- Never mind wanting the bathroom alone… I just wish I could pee without a paw scratching at my thigh for attention or a 18 lb. tank strapped to my chest.
- If either of them are within a 3 foot radius of you, there’s a 94% chance you’ll end up with some sort of drool, snot, urp or eye boogers on you.
- By far the best cuddlers… but usually only when exhaustion or sickness has set in.
- They’re the reasons you “can’t have anything nice.”
- Completely desensitized to poop.
- If they’re awake and it’s quiet… something bad is happening. Real bad.
- When all else fails, feed ’em.
- It’s no big deal to have full-out conversations with them and then feel slightly insane completely normal when you consider that have no idea what you’re saying and aren’t going to contribute.
- It doesn’t matter how deep of a coma-like nap they’re in… as soon as you sneak into the bathroom to shower/poop/hide, all hell breaks loose.
- They are the best faces to see first thing in the morning or after a long day at work.
- Shamelessly stinky.
- You’re expected to summon your inner psychic powers and interpret those blank stares and needy grunting noises.
- Together, they can make even the burliest of men turn to mush and go all sorts of goo-goo gah-gah.
- How they don’t get super pissed about having to eat the exact same thing every single meal is beyond me.
- They both trigger some mommy hormone that makes you have super morbid nightmares about bad things happening to them. (That’s normal, right?)
- Whether 9 or 90 lbs… the amount of poop that comes out of them is mind blowing.
- You can’t stay mad at them. You just can’t. That’s why God made them cute. So we don’t sell them to the gypsies when shit hits the fan.
- Eat. Sleep. Play. Sleep. Whine. Poop. Eat. Pee. Sleep. Poop. Play. Sleep. Eat. Pee. Play. Whine. Sleep.
- They’re the reason you can have intellectual adult conversations about poop. “Did Zora go poop when you let her out? Yeah, but it was super runny… hope she’s not getting sick. What consistency was Brody’s poop this morning? Was it the stinky turtle eggs or yellow mustard mush?”
- They will sleep through anything… EXCEPT opening the treat cupboard/nursery door.
- Extreme neediness doesn’t kick in until you are in the middle of something that requires both hands and/or undivided attention.
- Have I mentioned poop?
- They’re both so worth it.
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