Thank God for those glorious mesh panties they give you in the hospital after you have a baby. And the ice packs that they pretend are pads. Thank God for that satisfying “pop” when you bend the ice pack to activate. And thank God for its wonderous cooling…
All hail this miracle spray which I used like I was breathing air. My bathroom still smells of it all these years later…
Thank you to the postpartum nurses who kindly show you how to use your squirt bottle…
And thank God for the three holes that distribute the water with the perfect cleansing streams.
I'm a history-PhD-turned-stay-at-home-mom of three. When I'm not microwaving Trader Joe's meals for my kids, breaking up fights and wiping butts, I like to paint and write. To cope with the endless hours I'm spending with my son doing virtual school, I've abandoned my gouache paints for the more portable, less messy tried but true, paper and ink. While he learns to read to 20 floating heads on his screen, I sit on a tiny chair, at a tiny table pretending to be a productive adult.
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