My husband is a little annoyed with me right now. Mostly it's because I'm staying up really late working on a set of baby bedding. He hates it when I wear myself out for someone else.
And he's right, but I have a soft spot in my heart for baby bedding. I just don't like to miss a deadline on baby bedding. Especially for a first baby. Here's why.
This mother hasn't made any parenting mistakes yet. She is still doing everything right. She's reading the books, practicing breathing, has her nursery finished at 30 weeks and her bag packed at 32. She's ready, and she's ready to do everything right and to be that perfect mother. That was me eight and a half years ago.
I don't want to be the one to break it to her. I don't want to be the one to tell her that she can't have her nursery finished before the baby shower so she can show off her parenting skills. I don't want to be the one to tell her that she'll be so tired that she'll let the baby sleep with her just this once. Or that she might not bathe the baby, simply because the sink is so full of dirty dishes. And that she'll cry. More than once. Because she did something that she swore she'd never do. Like bring her baby to WalMart in it's pajamas with a crusty nose. Because if she doesn't get milk, bread and Benadryl, she WILL go insane, and she's past the point of caring about the dirty looks she's getting.
So I'll get this bedding finished, no matter what, because she'll find out sooner or later, and I hope, for her sake, that it's later. Because that's why women enjoy pregnancy so much. Because they still haven't messed their kid up. Yet.