Sharenting and Conspiracy theories

Sharenting

Combination of two words; parenting and sharing.

When parents share too much of their children's information, pictures and private moments online, mostly on Facebook.

1.That Mom is way overboard with her sharenting on Facebook.

2.Everyone is going to know everything about that poor kid because his/her parents aren't careful with their sharenting.

Reference: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Sharenting

In the days before Baby (hereafter known as BB), I swore I'd never be one of those Parents who Sharent. I was adamant I didn't want my baby plastered all over the internet until she was old enough to decide if she even wanted her photo there in the first place. BB I was often amused and equally bemused by the photos and updates others would post about their kids. Regularly thinking 'why?', and telling myself with much confidence, that I would not put my facebook friends through the same daily wall trailing ordeal. BB I was never going to be that person.

Yet here I am. 

Being that person.

Because finally, I get it.

I can't help myself.  Facebook is a place to spread news about your life, your highs and lows, achievements and failures, and at the moment, they are ALL directly related to Baby, whom I will hereafter call Miss A. Everything I do, think, feel or dream about is about her. Miss A is my life. BB weekends were time off, sleep ins and movie nights. Now they are two days where I have help. Where I can potentially achieve something that I've been trying to get to all week. BB I thought about career paths, performing, BB I sang daily. Now my thoughts are about when I will next grab some sleep. How I will eat my next meal. If I have time to have a shower, or should I take her in with me. Why is she crying? Is she too hot, too cold, hungry, tired, windy? Does she want a pacifier? What time did she last eat? Is she about to sleep properly? How long has she slept for? Baby. Baby. BABY. BABY!

BB I wondered frequently why no one ever talked about labour, pregnancy, having babies. I wondered why I was a 27 year old Female who knew next to nothing about what to expect. Wondering how I managed to get to this stage in my life and still be so ignorant. 

Now I know.

The survival of the human race depends on our knowing NOTHING IN ADVANCE.

It's the worlds biggest conspiracy. A secret kept for thousands of years by everyone who has a child, in an effort to keep others from knowing the truth. In a selfish attempt to bring more people into the fold to commiserate with and wonder "WHAT HAVE WE DONE?", "I WANT MY LIFE BACK", "WE'VE MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE!" Because pregnancy is a breeze compared to the first 3 weeks after birth. Those weeks are a blur or tears, pain, extreme sleep deprivation and horrible fears that you aren't meant to be a parent after all. Those weeks make you wonder, what have we done?

But then, they smile.

Miss A has started smiling.

Not often yet, but she has. I finally felt the Heart Glow that everyone talks about. I realised what it's all about. That's why no one talks about it. 

Because if people knew how hard it is, and how the one thing that makes it all worth it is a simple smile. They wouldn't have kids. They wouldn't go through all that hell. They wouldn't feel the heart glow. Because they wouldn't be able to comprehend, how something so small can make all that hell worth it. 

Making Yogurt at 2am

How did I come to be making the yogurt up at 2am? I wonder this myself, as I stand in the light of the fridge shaking the bottle waiting for the kettle to boil. In the lounge, Baby is wide awake in her bassinet, apparently unaware that 2am is not an ideal time for such wakefulness. But she is content to be so, she is fed, changed, swaddled, quiet. Just incredibly awake.

In the past five and half weeks, I have learnt that I invariably will choose to sleep rather than eat, unless I force myself to do otherwise. I have discovered that I can eat dinner using just my non-dominant hand, although steak proves a challenge. I have also found that it is by far easier to simply remain awake, than it is to allow yourself to start falling asleep and be woken ten minutes later when you are actually starting to relax. "Sleep when the baby sleep's" is great advice. However, you never can be sure when Baby is actually going to stay asleep, or for how long, or if you should take this opportunity to eat or shower rather than sleep as it might be 6 hours before the next chance you get to do so and in the meantime you remain covered in milk.

I have also learnt that The Ellen Show is on three times a day, so if I miss the first screening, I have two more chances to watch it. Today I managed on the third try. Just. (It's the small things).

I am thinking about all of this, in a weird fuzzy slideshow of images as the fridge starts to beep "I've been open too long". I realise the kettle has boiled. Baby is making contented snuffling noises in the lounge, the heat pump is making a racket, pretty sure it's broken, what am I doing standing here?

Oh yeah, making yogurt!

Close the fridge.

After four nights of roughly 2 to 4 hours of sleep and 3.30am starts, I had finally had a meltdown. Phoning my husband at work begging him to please come home early so I could go to bed. Baby wouldn't settle. Nothing that worked yesterday was working today. After last weeks high of 'I can do this motherhood thing', I had crashed into the depths of 'I need to get away from this' territory. Nothing was going well, feeding had become a nightmare after waking up with the third bout of mastitis I'd had in two weeks. I could write an entire blog post about the issues I'm having with feeding, but that's another story.

At least she's cute.

Lucky for me, I'm not a single mum, and my wonderful husband did manage to come home early. In bed by 4pm, asleep soon after. My boobs woke me up at 7, at which point I was forced to get up for their sake. Take Baby off Husband so that he can make dinner, "She's not slept yet" he tells me. I believe him. Back in bed by 8pm, Baby finally asleep, I'm asleep an hour later. Miraculously slept till 1am (boob alarm on overdrive by then). Send tired Husband to bed. 'Baby slept till midnight' he tells me. I'm impressed. A 4 hour stretch. I decide to sleep in the lounge so he can get unbroken sleep from now.

That's how I came to be here. Standing in the light of the fridge making yogurt at 2 in the morning. Having got enough sleep to feel vaguely functioning again, I finally achieve the task I've been meaning to do for 6 weeks now.

Win.