Don’t tell her sugarcoated stories.
When she asks you what motherhood is like, tell her that it’s like climbing Mount freakin’ Kilimanjaro and that every day you feel like there’s a chance you won’t’ make it and that you just might fall off the side of the mountain.
Then inform her that if that ever does happen, you’re pretty darn sure that when you “land” — sure, we’ll call it that — you’re kids will be right there at the bottom waiting for you ready to ask for a snack.
And, that your husband will have missed all of the excitement because he, like his expected self, was in the bathroom takin’ an hour-long fake dump.
That’s really what motherhood is like.
So, tell her that.
Don’t tell her sugarcoated stories.
When she asks you what motherhood is like, tell her to imagine she’s alone on a beach, with her toes in the sand, her bangin’ body in a bikini, a drink in one hand, and a book in which she can lose herself in the other. Then tell her that you hope she enjoyed her daydream and inform her she will no longer have time for that -ish — the beach, the body, the book, and the fantasy.
Don’t freak her completely out, though. You can let her know the drink in one hand is still doable.
