Hello, my name is Random Advice Woman. You see me on the street and stop to ask my advice. Why? Because at the moment I look like I know what I’m doing and you want a tip. That’s cool. The only problem is, I’m pretty sure you don’t want my advice. Not really.
Neither did the young woman who stopped me at Sprout’s the other day. While Katie and I are cruising through the pasta aisle she strikes up a conversation. “Wow! You have a baby and you look soooo good.” I look at her, a little baffled. I’m pretty sure my hair and makeup is a mess and I’ve been wearing the same shirt for two days. Oh, she means I’m thin, I realize.
She’s newly pregnant, so I decide not to tell her the whole truth. That would be mean. No one wants to hear that how they look will soon take a distant second (more like 5th or 15th) in importance to how many nights it’s been since she slept for more than 2 consecutive hours. She’s still got stars in her eyes and she should. No one could have ever told me how much I would love Katie and that she would be worth every sacrifice I have made, but if someone had told me about them in detail ahead of time I’m not sure I would’ve had the courage to do it! So I mumble something about green smoothies, fish oil and exercise. “Oh, and definitely breastfeeding. In fact, I’m still breastfeeding my daughter,” I say.
Horror flickered across her face, but she politely smiled. Note to Self: Stop admitting to strangers that Katie is still nursing. Just kidding.
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