The truth, according to a First Timer.

I'm not even sure how to begin this blog post. I could have some quippy jokes or funny little anecdotes, but what I really want to do is first address the parents-to-be:

THEY HAVE TOLD YOU NOTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW!

That's right. Everyone you've talked to has either lied to you or kept the secrets of parenthood from you for the sole purpose of getting sick, twisted pleasure from watching you suffer through discovering them.

That's why I'm here today.

Ladies and gentlemen, babies are something else. Obviously, they're adorable and bring your lives more joy than you ever dreamed possible (yada, yada). It's true. They do. But there's a dark side to babies - way past the urban legends of parents not getting any sleep. It's much more than that.

So I'm here to describe to you my findings: my journey into the abyss of parenting -- the things no one told me.

The Breastfed Baby:
My baby is a breastfed baby. It's not that I didn't know anything about breastfeeding going into this. I read the books. I watched the videos. I perused website after website. But no woman in my immediate family, to my knowledge, has ever breastfed. So, I didn't really have any first-hand experiences to prepare me for the inside world of breastfeeding.

To begin with: THEY NEVER STOP EATING!!! (It seems)

That's right. Your breastfed baby might as well become a permanent attachment on your bra. Just pack him down in there and go about your day. It seems to be the only logical way. I knew that breastfed babies ate more than formula babies. But for MY baby - he eats about every hour and a half -- from the time he started eating. So, if Jacob starts eating at 9 AM, he'll be eating again by 10:30. Even if it took him 45 minutes to eat. THAT LEAVES YOU NO TIME TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH OR SHOWER OR EVEN HOPE TO LOOK REMOTELY CUTE FOR YOUR SPOUSE WHEN HE RETURNS HOME FROM WORK!
Yikes. Most moms are blessed with babies that are on a 2 1/2-3 hour schedule so they get to do things like go to Target, go to lunch with friends, and go to the bathroom. My little piggy is not so giving.

Also: GROWTH SPURTS EXIST AND COME STRAIGHT FROM THE PITS OF HADES.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I didn't read ENOUGH, but no one explained the horror of growth spurts to me. Lasting anywhere from a few days to even a week (or longer, WHO KNOWS?!), this is pretty much self-explanatory. Your baby is growing quickly and has to make up for it by - you guessed it - eating even MORE. MORE EATING. NOOOOOO! For Jacob, this has meant eating every hour on the hour. Yep. Starts at 10. Eats for 30 minutes. Wants to eat again at 11... KID, I HAVE GOT TO PUT ON DEODORANT AT SOME POINT TODAY! When Jacob hits them, he likes(demands) to be held more, too. It's exhausting. My advice to mamas-to-be? Have a whole bunch of movies and chips and dip ready cause you aren't going anywhere for a few days, sucker.

Next on the list: THE GUY DOESN'T HAVE TO DO SQUAT.

Okay, that's not entirely true. Brian can change a diaper like a world-champion and he's pretty excellent at getting monster burps out of our little dude. But since mama is the one with the food, she's the one doing the MOST work - notice I didn't say MOST OF THE work. Your man can load the dishwasher and the washing machine -- if he remembers they exist. And trust me, once he's getting down to the bare minimum on undies, he'll remember.

In addition: TARGET BECOMES A FAINT MEMORY.

That's right. You get little bit fed and burped and in his car seat, thinking you're gonna pack in a lovely trip to Target just for a few things and *maybe* a new throw pillow (deny, deny, deny the buy when hubby asks though). So you get your little cooing bundle of joy to Target and put the car seat in the cart. You're strolling along, picking up necessities first (just in case, you know?) and decide that maybe you can take a peek at the bathing suits (like you're going anywhere this summer HAHA). The minute you pick up that cute little tankini that JUST so happens to be on sale - WHAMBAM - Baby is no longer amused by Target. You do what any parent would do - try to comfort and coo and all that good stuff, all while ignoring the looks of disgust from old lady McGee who probably thinks you're abusing your kid. (Why she is in the bathing suit section is beyond me.) You're not just gonna leave over one crying session, right? But then, you notice the clock and see that time enough has indeed passed for little piggy to be hungry again. Bye, bye, Target. Off to the imprisonment chambers of lactation once more.

Throwing this one in: NURSING COVERS - SWEET SALVATION?

Nursing covers were invented for breastfeeding mamas to be able to have a life outside of the home with their babies beside them. They keep us from having to show too much skin. You know, God forbid a mama nurse her baby and let a little side boob show. People will have a fit. Never mind that she is feeding on the bench right in front of Victoria's Secret where the window models are showing WAY more than she does. In comes the cover. Just throw it on and nurse your kid and no one will even give you a second glance. Wrong. People can still be jerks. Most won't say anything but you can still tell by their stares that they want to know WHY you aren't feeding that baby at home. (Refer them to my first point.) Also? They're kind of hard to get used to. Just call me Captain Awkward with mine because I'm still far from graceful using them. Oh well. A mama's gotta get out.

There's so much more I could add. But I'm finding most of my issues are coming from breastfeeding. I'll be honest, I've thought about quitting so many times. I've been tempted to open the cans of formula I do have around the house (the free samples, not that I've bought any). But, in my heart, I know that I'm doing what's best for my baby. Formula can't hold a candle to breastmilk. This is called sacrifice, my friends. Yes, I would love to go out on a date longer than 45 minutes with Brian. I'd love to be able to hand over the middle of the night feeding to him or Mom or whoever is visiting.

But the fact of the matter is, this is exactly how God intended it to be. As a mother, I was designed to be able to nourish my child. Women have been doing it for centuries and I can stick this out, knowing at the end that I did something selfless and wonderful for my growing baby. (And hey, it's a free meal for him!)

All in all, I could have it so much worse. I mean, have you seen my kid? He's gorgeous. (No seriously. He is.) He sleeps so well at night. He's easy to manage during the day (barring a few fussy days, but that's life). He doesn't have colic or anything that makes him a terror. Yes, I've cried a lot of days but that's because I'm just trying to figure MYSELF out in this new role of motherhood.

I know that eventually, I'll be a pro at all this I've complained about. I'm already leaps and bounds ahead of where I was when we first began. Sooner or later, I won't care who's ogling me as I feed him in a restaurant and go about life as usual. And my family and friends who are uncomfortable with that will just have to get used to it. Life goes on.

But for those of you first timers who are about to embark on this wonderful, frustrating, amazing journey - just be warned: things will come at you that nobody and no book will honestly tell you about. Just go with the flow. Embrace the scent of spit-up and the messy up-do. Your life isn't about you anymore, anyway. Warn your husbands, though. And give the no-shower, no-makeup routine a test drive before baby arrives. If you're blessed like I am, he could care less.

I look forward to thing slowing down and a nice schedule starting to emerge with this kid. But until then, I'm just gonna put on the same outfit for the third day in a row, scarf down my lunch before baby wakes up, and say COME AT ME, PARENTING. I GOT THIS.