I have officially, 100%, without-a-doubt gone mad.
How do I know this? Because I want another baby.
I’m not quite sure what contributed to this newfound insanity (maybe it was the sleepless nights neurotically worrying about my children; the hours spent sobbing thanks to pregnancy hormones, or the fact that I still don’t find it that upsetting to have fecal matter on my hands), but whatever the reason, I am completely entranced with the thought of having another child.
Although some of me thinks that the TLC network alone is responsible for this fortitude (watching millions of families with millions of babies certainly isnâ€™t helping), but another part of me wonders if women are just wired for craziness? Growing up I used to value normal things in life (like washing my hair on a frequent basis, being able to go to the bathroom alone, or having a moment of silence in the car without constant narrative from a costumed princess in the backseat), but somehow that has gone out the window. Where did the side of me go that used to love throwing on a short skirt, a good pair of skank heels (we all used to own a good pair of those), and way too much eyeliner? These days, my brain immediately dissects these deserved pleasures in life as: too impractical (who can carry an 80 lb. cars seat in a mini?), too hazardous (try chasing after a toddler in stilettos), and too darn bothersome (why use sexy, smoky makeup when I have sleepless nights and a teething baby to create au natural rings around my eyes?)
Despite the fact that I’m not sure when the sane part of myself left the building, and the Angelina Jolie circa Girl Interrupted entered the room (so much more flattering than a Sybil comparison)…I have officially gone nuts. Why else would I watch women screaming, and sweating, and bursting blood vessels on a birthing TV show and think, “aw, I miss that feeling.” Why else would I knowingly view my stretch-mark laden stomach and previously perky chest in the mirror (which now subscribe to the Isaac Newton train of thought of “what goes up, must also droop down”)…and think, “I would love to have a baby belly again.”
For those of you who haven’t had babies yet, you likely think you’re immune to this ridiculous state of mindâ€¦but don’t worry: your time will come. One day you’ll go from flirting in line at Starbucks, to dragging children into a coffee shop (balancing a checkbook, diaper bag and screaming infant) only to realize that you’ve left your keys in the ignition. But don’t worry! You have an excuse now for all acts of idiocracy from here forward, becauseâ€¦ after allâ€¦ youâ€™re a mom!
What else defines a mom if not insanity? We are insane with how it feels to see our baby smile for the first time (like tiny, toothless old men that we can’t fathom how much we love them). We are nuts with what it’s like to see our child run up to us, throw their arms around our waist, and still think we’re the best person in the world (even if we haven’t showered recently). And we’re completely and utterly bonkers for how it feels to feel that first kick in our bellies, and know that we have created the most loud, messy, exhausting, stressful and beautifully perfect creature on earth.
And that is why I am proud to be crazy… because, guess what?
I’m proud to be a mom.
Bailey Vincent Clark is the Editor-in-chief, author and founder of Makeover Momma. She talks about Mealtime Makeovers on Monday, workout concerns on Wednesday, and has a weekly column on Friday: “Getting Friendly With Makeover Momma.” If you would like to ask questions, submit concerns or simply chat: please email firstname.lastname@example.org.