A Different Libby

I have been a Mom for almost two weeks. How time flies when it is all spent looking at a little sleeping person. I still am not used to the title of "Mom" and when someone says "You're a Mother" I usually stand there waiting for the last word of the sentence. While I am not quite inhabiting this new role like a second skin just yet, I have learned quite a few things about myself, and about how morphing into a Mom has changed me.

1. People interpret carrying a baby as a sign to make small talk. It does not matter where you are, or what you are doing, if you have a baby with you, people will approach and want to talk about said baby, or others of the baby kind. I could be performing brain surgery AND getting a pelvic exam, and if I had Meg with me someone would approach to talk about how small she is, and how their babies were so much bigger.

2. No one wants to talk about me any more, and I really couldn't care less. I like talking about myself. I know, that comes as a surprise seeing as I have a blog named after me and all. However, since Meg was born the closest anyone has come to asking me about myself is to inquire how much sleep I am getting because of her. I don't mind though, because in my mind there is nothing more interesting than Meg. I don't even look at myself in pictures any more to judge how crappy I look. Instead my eyes just instantly go to Meg, and she always looks awesome.

3. I can do a lot of stuff in my sleep. I already knew that I can eat in my sleep, and talk, make phone calls. In the past two weeks, though, I have learned I can also change a diaper, swaddle a baby, make a bottle, shower, dress, and do my hair, and drive to work. Oh, and I am pretty sure I produced most of today's news in a strange state of REM. I'm not sure if I am writing this post in my sleep. I will let you know when I wake up.

4. You can never have enough onesies. At this writing Meg has approximately 10,346 onesies. She has enough that she could wear four a day 70 years and never repeat. I know this because she wears about four a day, and we aren't even through half of them -- and those are just the newborn size. There are a multitude of reasons she goes through so many onesies a day, but the main one is the fact she is a messy eater. She cannot go through a bottle without spilling some on herself. It makes me so proud. I can hardly wait until she is spilling on Old Navy shite t-shirts just like me.

5. Being a parent is better than I ever imagined. I actually stole this one from Ryan, but I would say I have to agree. After all the years of trying to have a family, having one really rocks, though not necessarily in the way I thought it would. It's less about me, and more about us. I don't know. I don't think there is any way to really explain it without sounding like a Hallmark card written by a douchebag. It's really hard, and if I think about the whole "rest of our lives things" I get freaked, but I feel like I am doing the most important and rewarding thing I have ever done. See? Totally douchey.

I am sure I will learn a myriad of other things in the coming months and years. For instance, I will have to learn to do Meg's hair, which is, honestly, the task that freaks me out the most. I have already ordered a number of products and books to help, but I am still worried. Maybe I'll just ask the next person who stops me on the street if they know how to do African American hair...