Too Much of Any Good Thing

Okay, you know those new moms who, when pulled from their cocoon of newborn nesting, finally come out to coffee with you, tiny tot attached to her breast, diaper bag piled high with “necessities” sitting on the stroller, ready for any immediate situation?

She eventually pulls her gaze from the newborn and aims her bleary eyes at you, wondering if she can remember your name.

You don’t have the heart to tell her that there’s spit-up on her shoulder.

But it doesn’t matter, because before you utter a word, she begins.

On and on and on and infinity ON about this new life experience. About the baby this and the baby that and how much her life has changed and why didn’t anyone WARN her but isn’t this the best thing since sliced bread and do you know the odds of this baby’s intelligence boost from when she played all that Mozart for her in-the-womb infant and here look the pictures she took yesterday of tubby time and maybe you can help her explain what is just a little weird about the baby’s navel?

She cannot WAIT to tell you what the baby did this morning.

You would not BELIEVE how the Hubby is taking all this.

It’s a good thing she’s adaptable to not getting any sleep anymore, and not eating regular meals (unless cold ones over the sink while the baby is screaming for attention counts), and sitting on her bum all day nursing and her bum is getting bigger by the day, but who cares because now she can read her billionth book on how to be the best mom ever while lactating.

She’s going to be the best mom ever. Did she mention that?

But just in case, she will take all of her insecurities to her girlfriends who have gone down the road before her. Surely they can explain what in the heck is just a little bit weird about her baby’s navel.

Best baby ever. Cutest baby ever. Worth every minute.

You will smile, nod, drink the coffee while it’s hot, and prove once again that you are sterling girlfriend material.

I’ve heard so many birthing stories, I could be an OB/GYN with one hand tied behind my back.

But I was also, once upon a time, that new mom who would NOT shut up, and I vowed never ever to be that obnoxious again.

Until I glanced into the mirror today and stopped cold, toothpaste dripping from my mouth.

It was her.

Oh no.

Okay, you know those new employees who, when pulled from their cocoon of new desk nesting, finally come out to coffee with you, cell phone attached to her palm, work bag piled high with “necessities” sitting on the table, ready for any immediate situation?

She eventually pulls her gaze from the newspaper headlines and aims her bleary eyes at you, wondering if she can remember your name.

You don’t have the heart to tell her that there’s a gap in her designer blouse.

But it doesn’t matter, because before you utter a word, she begins.

On and on and on and infinity ON about this new life experience. About the new job this and the new boss that and how much her life has changed and why didn’t anyone WARN her but isn’t this the best thing since sliced bread and do you know the odds of this job’s promotional possibilities from when she did all that Excel spreadsheet training and here look the notes she took yesterday at their staff meeting and maybe you can help her explain what is just a little weird about that one coworker’s comments?

She cannot WAIT to tell you what happened at work this morning.

You would not BELIEVE how the Hubby is taking all this.

It’s a good thing she’s adaptable to not getting any sleep anymore, and not eating regular meals (unless cold ones over the desk while the job is screaming for attention counts), and sitting on her bum all day typing and her bum is getting bigger by the day, but who cares because she will read her billionth book on how to be the best employee ever just as soon as she gets home.

She’s going to be the best employee ever. Did she mention that?

But just in case, she will take all of her insecurities to her girlfriends who have gone down the road before her. Surely they can explain what in the heck is just a little bit weird about her coworker’s comments.

Best job ever. Funnest job ever. Worth every minute.

You will smile, nod, drink the coffee while it’s hot, and prove once again that you are sterling girlfriend material.

I know you have so many career T-shirts, you could do my silly little job with one hand tied behind your back.

Thank you for seeing my life phase for what it is, and not running the other way when you see me coming.

When I am on my fifth-born job, I too will be over it.

But I’ll try to stop being so obnoxious in the meantime.

2 thoughts on “Too Much of Any Good Thing

  1. Pingback: The Big Uh-Oh | The Forgetful Files

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