Before becoming a parent, I was one of those people who had it all figured out. I had every detail of my life planned, all the way down to what kind of mother I was going to be. I grew up with younger siblings and knew how to take care of babies. So, of course, I always tried to offer sound advice to parents who obviously needed it. In my opinion, people gave their offspring way too much power over their lives. My favorite tidbit of guidance was to stress the importance of proper planning. “Wait until you’re ready.” “Put your baby on a schedule that fits your life.” “Make time for yourself.” I was an expert in child-rearing.

Then the unthinkable happened. I discovered I was pregnant on a time frame that did not match the schedule my husband and I had laid out. I was in total shock. After 4 EPTs and a blood test, I started to accept reality. I was going to have a baby and show all those parental neophytes how it’s done.

Pregnancy was a little rockier than I expected. Originally, I planned to only gain 20 pounds, but the craving for queso got a little out of hand. No big deal. Sixty pounds is nothing when you go to the gym every day.

Finally, after only 23 hours of labor, my son was born. That’s when I found out that I was the idiot. I knew nothing. I was in charge of nothing. Every moment of my life was dedicated to making him comfortable, happy, and quiet. My perfectly organized house was constantly strewn with his gadgets and dirty discharges. I hardly slept, bathed, or ate. If I even thought about going to the gym, I would laugh at myself. I was totally wrapped around his finger before he even knew what a finger was. Three kids later, I’m still not an expert parent. My  best advice to newbies is: “It’s their world; you’re just in it. Get ready to be scared, stinky, and stressed but most of all blessed.”

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