Dealing with being called a first-time mom

It’s difficult being referred to as a first-time mom when I’m anywhere with Corin. I try to stick with the truth – that he’s the second – but with so many of the fumbles that come with FTM-isms, I relent and don’t correct people when they throw that box over my head.

What I mean mostly is the buying of useless baby-things that experienced moms know to avoid. The clip-on-holds-the-spoon-for-kiddo ‘convenience’ thing that really just ends up being a whip/chew toy, for example. That’s $5 wasted that could have bought more useful chocolate.

I just roll with it. Being called a FTM with those types of things. It’s not always fun to stand there and awkwardly correct well-intended acquaintances that my first son doesn’t walk this earth. And let’s not get in to the step-son I have been raising for the past eight years. When he plopped down into my life, he was four, potty trained, all teethed, and etc. So, in a very long thought-line of self-assurance and justifying, yes, in some cases, I am very much a first-time mom. There, I said it.

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