Tag: babies
The post-apocalyptic new parent
Congratulations! You’ve gotten through the post-apocalyptic pregnancy and survived the post-apocalyptic childbirth. Now, you’re ensconced in your tent, tucked away in the (relative) safety of your survival camp, with your brand-new, adorable tiny human.
By this I mean your brand new, really loud, really demanding, and sometimes not all that adorable tiny human.
We all know babies are loud. They’re also like little divas, since they don’t do anything but demand you cater to their needs. (Though it could be argued that all kids are like this, regardless of their age. Ahem.) They also require a lot of planning.
The next time you’re traipsing through your favorite department store, take a quick walk through the baby department. You see all that stuff? Cribs, diapers, clothing, wipes, strollers, playpens, blah blah blah? Most of that is actually necessary. (Some of it isn’t—I mean, as much fun as it was to plop my kid in a bouncy seat that vibrated and sang lullabies while blinking in a soothing nightlight pattern, it was also totally ridiculous and completely unnecessary.)
Post-apocalyptic childbirth
Last week, we talked about post-apocalyptic pregnancy. This week, we move on to labor and delivery.
Again, the caveat: I am not a medical professional, midwife, or a doula. I’m writing this from the perspective of someone who’s given birth to two children.
Ready? Here we go! Continue reading “Post-apocalyptic childbirth”
Post-apocalyptic babyproofing
The last time my toddler tried to climb the oven door to see the fun things that were happening on the stove, I had this crazy picture flash into my head. It was of my toddler climbing the ruins of a building somewhere in post-apocalyptic Earth and then falling off, only to be impaled by some random ruins below (or eaten by zombies that happened to be wandering by).
I realized a few things after this mental image popped into my head:
1. My daughter follows this climb-fall cycle far too often.
2. I have an overactive imagination.
3. What the hell are parents going to do for babyproofing post-apocalypse?