Dirty Little Secret

A lot of things are different this time around. I’m calm and confident (with the baby, anyway). “Rest” is a relative concept – what I’m doing now would have been considered “extremely active” when I had Ironflower. I no longer have to lift the baby up much to nurse. Ironflower (and Lovebug) show lots of interest in the baby this time. I have tons of stretchy yoga pants to wear – no stress about fitting into “normal” pants.

But I STILL find myself watching Bringing Home Baby. And I am ashamed.

First of all, it’s a reality show. I always feel shame when I watch reality shows. But at least most of the other ones I watch have scandalous and/or interesting aspects that explain WHY I would watch them. There’s no scandal on Bringing Home Baby. Hell, it’s not even interesting. I’m not learning anything – I’ve brought three babies home from the hospital.

Secondly, it involves watching people I don’t know get used to living without sleep while gushing about their newborns. Why should I care? I already know how to live without sleep. And I already know how fantastic my newborn (not to mention my older children) is.

Third, why the hell did these people invite a television show into their homes for this? Are they getting paid (I hope)? Because, second only to the last few weeks of my pregnancy, now is not the time I’d like to appear on television. Call me vain, but puffy and exhausted is not how I’d like to present myself to the world. On top of which, the newborn days are not so exciting that they need to be filmed for thirty-six hours straight. And I’ve yet to see one family that’s actually interesting or funny or dramatic on the show (not that I blame them).

I can still blame hormones for my odd behavior, right?

Please tell me about the lame shows you watch or have watched in the throes of new parenthood.