Jen Warman: New Freakin' Mummy


Postpartum Hair Loss & Other Random Musings


I can't decide if I want to write a blog post about postpartum hair loss, or about how cute and advanced my son is.

The two topics don't go very well together either—so it's not like I could seamlessly go from one idea to the next. It would be like serving lasagna with a side of curry for dinner. They just don't jive.

But I'm really struggling here. 

Neither topic is worthy of a full blog post (okay—that's a lie. I could write a ten million word essay on how adorable and amazing my son is, but you'd all probably stop reading after a few minutes.)
I suppose I could choose a different topic all together...One not even related to motherhood. Like bellybutton lint, or fashionable sunglasses. But I know dick-all about either topic, because I have an in-betweenie (not an outie, but not an innie) so I never get lint—and I tend to pick up on fashion trends a season or two (or ten) later than the average bear. 
Ohh—bears, I could write a blog post about bears! But that would be interesting to just about no one (sorry David Suzuki, I know you'd probably read it. That's a lie. You definitely wouldn't read anything that I write about bears. My knowledge begins and ends with "that's a black bear, that's a brown bear.")
Do you see what is happening here? Do you realize what is happening to me right before your very eyes?
My brain has turned to mush. Mommy-mush-brain. Google it. 
I'm trying to write a blog post, and it's 8:30pm. My son is asleep, and I have no energy left to do anything funny, productive, or funductive (something that is both funny and productive). I guess I could have sex with my husband. That would be funductive. The funny part would be me trying to look sexy right about now...
*insert whistle sound as I do a sexy stripper move in my striped tank top and clashing striped PJ pants with a saggy ass*
I think I should just quit before I'm ahead, and turn this blog post into a picture book. That's where I'm at folks. Replacing WORDS with PICTURES. 
That reminds me of a pet peeve: you're not an AUTHOR if you've had a PICTURE BOOK published. 
I'll show you a picture of my postpartum hair loss and show you pictures of my incredibly cute and advanced son.
On second thought...I'll skip the hair loss pics (who needs to see a brush full of hair?) but take my word for it: I could make wigs for balding men daily with the amount of hair I'm losing. And it always seems to collect in my ass-crack after a shower...?? Why? To make me feel even sexier? I suppose so.
Okay, onto cute pictures of Cole!