“Don’t Feed the Birds!” 4 Postpartum Visitors from Hell

Congratulations! You’ve survived forty weeks—ten, NOT nine—months of pregnancy!

You gracefully handled your morning sickness by puking daintily into barf bags covered in adorable prints. When you were finally able to eat again, you shoveled pickles and ice cream into your mouth by the truckload, naively assuming that your blossoming belly put you in the same category as Kate Upton’s Carl’s Junior commercials. (It didn’t.)

You clutched your copy of What to Expect While You’re Expecting like it was the maternity Bible, highlighting chapters to include in the birth plan that, let’s face it, was never going to actually happen. Then, at long last, you went through the hellacious ordeal of giving birth, ultimately realizing all of your partner’s “we’re pregnant” crap was complete bullshit, because you’re the one whose vagina imploded.

But before you go sticking that oversized wooden stork—proudly displaying the name, birthday, and weight of your precious little bundle—on your front lawn, you need to prepare yourself for the first true hurdle of motherhood. What’s coming your way is far worse than cracked nipples, sleep deprivation, or the six-week sexual hiatus. Beware, new mommies, of…

The Baby Buzzards!

Circling your home for weeks after your little one’s arrival, these carnivorous beasts can smell encapsulated placenta pills from a mile away. But be warned! Baby buzzards have no actual intention of helping you navigate the chaos of a newborn. These banes of your existence will migrate to your doorstep in droves only to gaze upon your innocent child, and then feed on what’s left of your sanity.

Species of baby buzzards vary, so harness your inner Jack Hanna as you prepare to combat these freaks of postpartum nature:

The Biological-Clock-Is-Ticking Buzzard

This buzzard will arrive at your door, dragging its unwilling spouse and children behind it. Its kids are already old enough to attend school, sleep through the night, and wipe their own asses, so this breed of buzzard has a bad case of baby fever. Its biological clock is ticking, and it is counting on your innocent newborn to convince its partner to have another baby. Do NOT attempt to interfere with this bird’s fertility dance. It’s already too late; it has been hypnotized by the angelic sounds of the crib’s mobile. There is no saving this species.

The Office Creeper Buzzard

Buzzards of this unique variety have never been to your home pre-pregnancy, and you probably had good reason not to invite them over for drinks and a game of Pictionary. Secretly, or maybe not-so-secretly, these birds could give a rat’s ass about the fact that you’ve had a kid. They will come to your home out of some non-existent sense of obligation; sure, they will look at your child, and maybe even present them with some cheesy onesie adorned with your company’s logo. But they’ll also seize the moment to check out your digs, assess your spouse, and rummage through your medicine cabinet. After returning to work, they will tell the rest of the water-cooler crowd what they saw… and proclaim to be your new bestie!

The Single Buzzard

Unmarried, childless buzzards will swing by your house to discuss all the happenings of their busy social calendars. Their talons will be freshly manicured; their feathers will be perfectly quaffed. These birds will think nothing of discussing their wild, sexual escapades while gently cradling your infant. They don’t ask how you’re feeling; they don’t care. Empathy is beyond their emotional scope. You will be left to gaze upon these creatures in resting bitch face, wondering if you yourself were ever this self-absorbed prior to becoming a mother. Eventually, you will send these buzzards packing, replacing them with Sex & the City reruns.

The Experienced Buzzard

This buzzard fancies itself an expert, and considers it a personal mission to mentally torment you, inflicting self-doubt and confusion about all of your parenting decisions. Why are you using those bottles? You’re not breastfeeding? Who says you can’t put him to sleep on his stomach; I did and my kid turned out just fine! It’s doesn’t matter if this experienced buzzard’s little Johnny did a stint in juvie, or that her darling Susie has a mouth that would rival any truck driver. This bird knows it all.

Expectant ladies, prepare yourselves. Get some balls. Be assertive. Banish these buzzards back to their nests. You’re the momma bird now.

“Don’t Feed the Birds!” 4 Postpartum Visitors from Hell

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