Like Falling In Love

If motherhood were like dating, our personal ad would have looked somewhat like this…



Tall, confused first-time-mom, whose pregnancy symptoms included carpel tunnel and a bum hip, and whose labor process was just shy of 42 hours. Wife to a designer, program coordinator for a community house, mom to a man-child who loves to be talked to and tolerates being tickled. Considers herself “sort of crunchy” at best and lives life somewhere in between natural organic wooden teethers and the cheapest frozen pizza. Certain to be a grateful companion who brings you gifts and laughs at your jokes. But also certain to use you for your thorough mom research so that she doesn’t have to do the heavy googling and her baby still gets to stay alive and well. Looking for a snarky mom-friend willing to tell her how it is and ready to talk honestly about the baby stuff that’s really sweet and really hard and also sometimes weird. Interested in friendship that could progress into a blogmance. Please respond only if you are willing to text during 2am feedings.



Hi. Interested in connecting. I, too, am a FTM (trusting you know what that stands for by now) who happened to have had an eerily smooth pregnancy with labor and delivery going almost exactly as planned, but finding that it hasn’t made the “after birth” (ew) any less terrifying or confusing. It should be noted that I am undoubtedly addicted to the What To Expect message boards and will likely mix up stories from said boards with my own personal experiences because sleep. My husband runs a local coffee shop, which has obvious perks that I’m willing to get you in on, because sleep. I am an elementary school speech therapist, and mama to a red-headed cherub who has a stronger will than anyone I’ve ever known. I will provide the extensive google research if you will provide the encouragement I find myself so desperately needing. Remind me we aren’t as clueless as we think we are. That we aren’t failing when we ditch minimalism for Fisher Price primary colored light-up contraptions. That just because our all day/every days do not look like the babies of Instagram who sleep peacefully on white linen sheets in dust-free rooms with expensive house plants in the corner does not mean we are doing things wrong. Let’s pull each other out of survival mode. Talk to you at 2am?


Because, finding a compatible mom friend is like falling in love….

As with both, timing is everything. In the last few weeks of pregnancy and first few weeks of motherhood, “6 months” in reference to a baby’s age might as well be years away. “What is it like way over there?” you may find yourself asking a mom to a baby several months (or years) older than yours. “What language is spoken?” you may wonder when you see other parents in Target with children who are old enough to “walk” or “talk.” “Do I use too many parentheses when I write?” is something that even comes up from time to time. It is a wonderful thing to click with a mom friend who is not way far ahead or behind you to commiserate/celebrate/dream/plan/hypothesize with.

And this is exactly where we found each other: Britney heading into a third trimester that was certain to contain balloon-like feet and an addiction to sloppy joes, and Katie only weeks away from an impending labor that would exempt her from “the scary things they don’t tell you about childbirth” that kept her up at night for months leading up. With our husbands as childhood friends, the obligatory “we’re both becoming moms” texts of these two acquaintances soon turned into the desperate and hilarious conversations of a couple of people who needed each other. And as with falling in love, things clicked just when it was necessary before we even realized it to be so.

So now out of those conversations comes this blog. A collection of postpartum memoirs. The honest, messy, vulnerable, and amusing reality that surfaces out of the dialogue of 2 (or 3 or 75) people just trying to make it through is one worth sharing. We figured that it just doesn’t make sense to keep these struggles over breast milk supply, nonsensical hallucinations during 4am feedings, night terrors in the form of sleep regression, or the physical high you feel after that first laugh to ourselves. Especially, especially, if you are a parent somewhere in the world who is looking for more reading material in the dark hours of the morning and of the soul. Welcome to Milk Drunk Blog. You are not alone.

Faking & making it,

Britney and Katie

Katie & Britney
About me

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