- Family Photographs...this is BRUTAL my friends. Even if the mommy in front of the camera has miraculously lost all of the pregnancy love handles, chances are, she dawns dark circles and a face that screams, "Please, dear God, just let me sleep." Keep the camera in front of the baby.
- Sex...I'm just gonna speak the truth. Any woman who is up every 2-3 hours, possibly breast feeding, probably sleeping in spurts (at best) on the couch does not want to do the nasty. She wants to sleep. She loves you. She thinks your hot. The scoop is...she's having a love affair right now with her bed and you can't compete...so just make do with your hand. Everyone's got to sacrifice.
- Cooking/Cleaning...there should just be a lovely person who comes weekly and tidies the place and leaves home cooked meals along with really good coffee and yummy chocolate.
- Exercise...let me tell you right now. If we wanted to burn calories, we would be having sex...not running, not doing yoga, not scrunching ourselves into the work out clothes that used to fit but are now well, a bit of an embarrassment. Really, if the baby is sleeping and we have disposable energy reserves, we want to take said chocolate and watch "Lifetime" in our underwear (maternity underwear that is) on the couch.
- Make Money....there really should just be a money tree in the backyard. Women should not have to go back to work after 6 weeks or 12 weeks. If they want to, have at it. But, if it's the economic pressure or job requirement that is making the decision...well, piss on that. Women should be allowed the time to heal emotionally, physically and to bond with their babes.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Free Pass(es) in First Year Postpartum
Given that this isn't my first rodeo, but will probably be my last, I've decided to put together a list of activities that women should not feel any obligation to do in their first year postpartum. Who knows? Maybe the universe will listen and women from four corners of the world will rejoice? Just like maybe a money tree is growing as we speak in the back yard...what the hell, it couldn't hurt. Here it goes.