I thought my baby and I were going to have an easy morning together, so I alloted two hours for us to get ready for our new moms group. Boy was I wrong…

I tried to shower, but the baby decided to throw up all over himself as I took a step inside the shower door. After changing him, he decided he needed to eat again, since all of his breakfast was now all over his dirty clothes in the hamper.

After his second breakfast (is he a hobbit?), it was diaper changing time, which turned into three new diapers thanks to explosive poops from Hades. Throw up number two happened, all over my pajama pants. Instead of trying to put on normal clothes, I put on a new pair of sweatpants. Noticing that I was starving, I microwaved some taco meat, and attempted to place my tiny baby in his infant car seat. Screaming ensued, so instead I threw on my Moby Wrap, and wore him. I ate my taco above his head, and dropped some mexican cheese on his head. Yes, I ate that cheese. Five second rule. Duh.

The definition of Hawt Mess

Since the car seat was no longer an option, we walked to our New Moms group. My hair was in a messy, unbrushed ponytail, and I was still wearing pajamas. Mascara from the previous day sloppily lined my under eye, giving my already tired appearance some extra points.

During our meeting, my tiny baby needed a diaper change…during which Old Faithful spouted off to new heights, and pee landed all over the big blanket that other babies were playing on. He was like a wolf who was marking his territory. Oops. Oh well.

On the walk home, I passed by some other East Side moms. Some were out for a stroll with their babes, sipping on their Starbucks, with their Keri Russell-like (does anyone else miss Felicity as much as me?) perfect hair shining in the sunshine. Others were out for a jog, in their matching workout outfits (you know the ones – even their sneakers match their clothes?!). None of them were in pajamas or covered in spit up. I was angry. I was ovewhelmed. Mostly, I was embarrased.

At first, I held my head down, ashamed of my appearance. But then I realized the other moms were smiling at me, and I realized that they must have gone through bad days as well. Maybe they just didn’t leave the house on those days….but they still went through them.

That’s when I reminded myself that Itty Bitty was only three weeks old, and that we were both still learning how to function as a tiny family. I’ve only been an east side mom for three weeks, and I needed to give myself a break. We came home, took a nap, and had a much better day from there out. I still stayed in my pajamas, didn’t shower until the next day, but I realized that I hadn’t had a bad day. Instead, I had had another great day with my three week old tiny baby!