The messy emotional mess of deciding when to quit.
At some point, you may start thinking — dreaming! wishing! longing! — about leaving the house. By yourself, with your husband, partner, friends. Anywhere and spend two hours free of the fear that someone is going to vomit into your cleavage.
Technically it’s probably more useful to friends and family of postpartum moms than to actual postpartum moms, but…whatever. IT’S TIMELY. AND EVERYBODY LIKES PRESENTS.
Let’s skip the formal column and go shopping this week instead.
Newborns and holidays = quadruple the insanity. No, I’m not sure why that math works either.
Having a baby means starting a whole new family, in more ways than one.
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