Trainwreck…head on.

Parent and infant play groups. A place where new parents can cry and gorge on donut holes with other parents. Someone usually has a boob exposed. Everyone—weeks old or years old– takes turns spacing out. Babies, babies rolling around, or just hanging on their backs like overturned beetles…limbs flailing and no inertia. Four-week-old eyes cross Totally normal. Right? Right? A young lad sleep-startles himself awake Lookie, he waved! Did you guys see that? The seeds of parental pride begins to swell and sprout.

Some parents have an especially rough time of it. Colic, postpartum depression, complications with nursing—and consequent visits to the pharmacy aisles, procuring products you’d hoped never to even consider. Where’s the witch hazel? No? Preparation H? Yes. I need a large plastic donut to sit on for a week or two. Nipple cream? Check. At least in Illinois they sold liquor at Osco. Thank you Osco. Oh and Honey? Pick up cabbage leaves and frozen peas. No…not for dinner…for my terrifying new triple E’s (and I’m not talking shoe-size).

So, peer support can provide a welcome respite for new parents. Unless…

Enter the new-mom-turned-toddler-mom. She’s got two whole years experience under her belt, plus she’s working on a master’s degree in social work. Heavy on enthusiasm, light on knowledge! As a graduate of this program, the leader of the group invited me to return and help support some of the newer parents.

The parents gather ‘round for check-in, where everyone shares whose sleeping and whose not. One new mom can’t pretend to hold it together. She chokes out her story in sobs. Her newborn daughter refuses to nap and screams non-stop. The baby’s ears resemble her mothers’ and cause her to grieve the long ago loss of her death anew. She rocks and sweats with her baby so close to her in the sling.

I’d like to think that I asked her for permission, but before I could question myself (is this hug to make you feel better self, or her?) I lean in for a big hug. I encircle her and her writhing infant, rather I almost encircle them when GONNNNNNNG our heads collide. Mom sobbing and hyperventilating now, and not out of the comfort I intended. I apologize. I hope to God I didn’t try for a do-over. I probably did…which brings me to:

A heartfelt thank you, Bitchin’ wife for this badge. You’d think it was made fjust for me…

I’m supposed to pass it on to three of my favorite disaster-prone, awkward situation-inclined bloggers. So,

Pearl, for your deleting 600-odd words in one key stroke, and for unsuccessful light-bulb completion

Suzy, a brand new bloggy friend, for a fall outside the Beverly Hills Hilton, and for your new Mantra.

And Beej The Bean, laryngitis notwithstanding.

I pass along this honor, that states…This award is for the blogs that we like to stop and gawk at every day, time permitting. We just can’t get enough of these bloggers’ wit, honesty, good humor, and obvious love for spinning a great yarn around the events of their lives, even if they were weeping while it happened a week ago. Life is too short to not laugh at the trials and curiosities that are put before you and these writers get that. In spades. And they aren’t afraid to share.

xo