That Mom

Everybody knows a mom who constantly boasts about their kids, posts a trillion pictures on Facebook per hour, and thinks that everyone else in the world is waiting on the edges of their seats for the next update on what their child got on their Spelling test or the color of their baby's poop. You know, THAT mom. Ugh, what a pain in the ass, right? I mean, really! Babies are cute, but they're a dime a dozen. Once you've seen one baby take their first steps, do you really need to see any other? Unless you are fortunate enough to catch your baby taking her first steps, looking especially drunk and wobbly, and ends up falling down, landing on an adorable puppy on video (you know, some real quality AFV shit), does anyone really care? I sure don't! 

That was me... before becoming a mom.  Something strange happened to me  4 1/2  months ago. It wasn't my body morphing into the shape of a hippo who swallowed a watermelon, or the super human strength I magically obtained to squeeze out said watermelon from my lady parts, or acquiring the power to, not only function but take care of another human being on just a few hours of sleep. All of those things are weird and true, but the strangest thing that happened to me was that on that magical day in March, I became THAT mom. Yup. That mom that you roll your eyes at as you scroll down your Facebook newsfeed, trying to get past the obnoxious baby pics as fast as you can to get to the good FB gossip... That's me!

I realized that I was, in fact, THAT mom just the other day. We were Skyping with friends who live far away and have never met the little muffin in person. I know they love to see her face and can't wait to hold her, but I had a total Really, Andrea? moment when this came out of my mouth:

"Do you want to see her roll over?"

I didn't even give them a chance to answer (although I'm sure they would have said yes!).

"Hun, face the camera over there I'll put her on the floor. Make sure you get this angle so they can see."

It was close to her bedtime, so she wasn't really into performing her newest trick, but I was determined not to let our audience down. So I became a cheerleader.

"Come on, honey! You can do it!  Lead with your head! It will give you momentum!" After a few minutes, she finally gave in and our friends were able to witness this amazing feat of athleticism! They clapped and cheered and I know their excitement for our daughter's developmental accomplishments are sincere, but I had an immediate feeling of Oh shit. It's happened.

I've turned. Like I've been bitten by an obnoxious zombie mother, I can feel the infection coursing through my veins, slowly taking over my brain, convincing me that every human being on this planet not only wants to know all about my baby's milestones, but NEEDS to know. Because if they don't get to see a picture of her face right after she poops on her towel after bath time, or see a video of her blowing raspberries (yes, I know. I'm actually guilty of both), their life will be empty and unfulfilled. I'm saving their lives, really.

I don't believe I am the worst offender out there, though. Don't get me wrong, I take an incessant amount of pictures of my child during the day, but I promise I don't post them all! I try to keep myself in check by limiting the amount of pics I post and only posting statuses that I think will make  someone laugh, or if I need advice from other mommas, but I'll admit, sometimes I get carried away. It's only a matter of time before I'm driving around in a minivan with a Proud Parent of an Honor Roll Student bumper sticker on the back and opening up an art gallery to showcase her first abstract fingerpaint creations.

Do me a favor, please. If I get really out of control, just whack me on the head with something sharp and heavy and put me out of my misery. But I'm sure it will never get to that point. It's not like I write a blog for the world to read all about my adorable and amazingly talented baby or anything...