Real Talk, or The Confessions of a 2-week-old Momster.
THE day is here. Finally, after 9 or even 10 months of growing a human being inside of you; of getting bigger and grumpier and chubbier by the minute and after endless scenarios of how your bundle of joy will look like and cry like and smell like in your arms, reality steps in. And sometimes (oftentimes) it’s not all sunshine and rainbows; and suddenly you experience poo that doesn’t smell like roses and feedings that lasts over a whole movie. And as relieved as you may feel that the “big mamma” part is over, you only realize it is no end, but just the beginning. The beginning of a beautiful journey.

“When pregnant, you get all these ideas about how parenthood should be. You establish rules. “The baby will not sleep with us”, “We will not over-spoil him”, “We won’t take 100 pictures a day with him and then look at them at the end of the day”. Right. Good luck with that.”

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About one week after the start of motherhood. The picture says it all.

Actually, the terrifying moment of leaving the hospital in the form of three, instead of two as you came in, is the alarm sign that announces the actual start of motherhood. It’s that moment when they decide you’re “good to go” ( HOW they get do decide that I still don’t know but yeah I guess they can’t keep you there for six months yet) and when you realize you don’t get to take the nurse at home with you, nor are you getting the red button that you called continuously for requiring help as a push present. Sadly. But it’s the reality check we all get as soon as we celebrate 3 days of motherhood.

“Every day is a copy-paste. The peak of the day: 20 minutes of taking a shower. Alone. The new definition of “awesomeness”.”

And then there is breastfeeding….

“Hollywood movies gave you false expectations about the “magic of breastfeeding”. It hurts. It fuckin’ hurts. Until you get it right.”
If breastfeeding, your boobs can and will be seen by everyone. Get ready to share your “milky twins” with your husband, family and friends.”
And also poo… Lots of poo.
“Your phone will host sooner or later a picture of your baby’s poo.
The new small pleasures in life? The fact that your baby’s poo has the right color.” 
And yes, these tiny humans create enormous amounts of disgusting stuff, believe it or not. But that’s even the reason why they look SO ADORABLE, so you forgot all the bad parts the second you look at them. Smart.
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But above and beyond everything, there are husbands. Our heroes.

“Husbands are pure gold. Mine was a nurse, therapist, cook, driver, comedian, professional “Shush!” singer, nanny, baby wrapper, “mom-baby” relationship manager.”

Indeed, long live the husbands. But no husband would be strong without a realmomster next to him, raising his child. The true power lies within us, women and mothers, and nothing and no one could give it to us or take it away from us. We are powerful despite or sensitivity. We are strong and capable despite of all the sleepless nights and endless feedings. We are sexy despite enormous bras and milk-stained T-shirts. We are beautiful, brave and special.
Here’s to one fresh Realmomster that I know and that went head-on into the adventure of a lifetime.
Uhm, and yes, that’s spinach she’s cooking right there.
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Motherhood at its best. Week 2.

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