Poo, Poverty and Being Pooped: Welcome to Parenthood

"I hope you like poo."

This statement, said to me by a friend just moments after he congratulated me and Megan on being preggers, had me taken aback a little bit. It wasn't something I expected to hear, truth be told. I mean, nobody actually likes poo...so the statement doesn't even make any sense. And secondly, there must be more to a child than what comes out of its bottom.

But I let it slide. Then I told another close friend the good news.

"That's awesome! Get ready for lots of poo." HAWU! GUY! Et tu, Brute? Then I told a third person. And a fourth. And a fifth. The responses were all the same. Our neighbours and friends, Rach and Terry ['rents to an almost-one-year-old], even gave us a pop culture themed version of this warning!

Only the greatest babygrow [I think that's what it's called...] of all time!

[You should totally check out Rach's blog, Minimalist Mama.]

And then there was another friend, Cheryl, who sent me this little gem:

Okay, so that many people can't be wrong. So there will be poo. But surely there's a little bit more to it than that? Thankfully, my friends were also quick to tell me more good news.

"Get all the sleep you can. You're never going to sleep again." Okay. Wow. Captain Over Dramatic. Please tell me you're using hyperbole. Please. Pretty please. *begins weeping*

Me, from the day my baby is born until the day I die. Apparently.

 And then there was more good news.

"You're going to be broke. Forever."

By this point, I was convinced that babies are nothing more than poo machines who keep you awake while they siphon your money. And then you die.

As I type this, I'm poo-free, well-rested and have a positive bank balance. But, apparently, not for long.