Random things that have occurred to me:

• Babies are really dumb. Who else, when they're absolutely knackered, doesn't want to go to sleep? Instead of thinking, "Ooh sleep, yeah, that'd be lovely, I could do with a kip," decides that screaming in increasing octaves and flailing your arms and legs around so that you get really hot, sweaty and snotty, would be a better thing to do?
• Cutting baby fingernails with nail clippers is a scary task, akin to playing Operation. A very steady hand is called for. Cutting baby fingers with nail clippers (accidentally!) results in loud objections, tears and massive pangs of guilt.
• Spawn has tons of hair, which stands on end alarmingly and looks like it's been styled by the four winds. No matter what I do to it, it sticks up.
• I have developed Attention Deficit Disorder. I can't concentrate on one thing at a time - if I go to do something, on the way there I'll think of something else to do and go off to do that, and then I'll think of something else to do on the way to doing that - etc etc ad infinitum. This means I get Nothing done at all and spend my day in ever-decreasing circles.
• I know that all the pregnancy-related hormones are out of me now, because I've got my periods back (a Health Visitor, not my normal one, said "Oh, bad luck on getting them back so early." Early? When was I supposed to get them back then? I thought I was doing quite well that it'd been 14 weeks since Spawn was born. Am now paranoid that I've somehow failed at something here, but also wondering if I've got them back because I'm fertile again, even though they reckon you still can get pregnant while you're breastfeeding), and also because my hair has started falling out again. When I was up the duff, not much of it fell out at all, which was nice, because I normally shed like a moulting dog. However, I'm now making up for 9 months of not having falling-out-hair - you could make a wig out of what's coming out now. The Husband was quite unnerved and asked if I was alright. I think I read somewhere that it'll settle down again soon. In the meantime I have to clip it up all the time or the house is full of tumbleweeds.
• There is a massive Breastfeeding myth/conspiracy, and it is this: loads and loads of women will tell you that, oh yes, they breastfed their kids, of course, and from this you get the impression, therefore, that it is absolutely the norm and you're a bit of an oddball if you decide to do anything else. BUT - what they fail to mention, is that these bloody sanctimonious women very rarely breastfed for longer than a few weeks, and I mean normally no longer than a month if that. Some only managed a few days. But they won't say that, unless you specifically ask how long they breastfed for. So when you're slogging away 3 months later thinking that this is what everyone (relatives, friends, friends of relatives, work colleagues, passing acquaintances, complete strangers in shops) did, and then you find out that you've fed longer than all except one of them, you may well find yourself feeling a mixture of supreme annoyance, gullibility, stupidity (for not finding out sooner) and smugness (at outlasting them all). It is my duty to let you all know this now. I am speaking out.
• Of course you do have to remember that there will always be the ones who do it all by the book and carry it on for at least six months just like the World Health Organisation tells them to, well bully for them. What do you want, a fucking medal?
• Conversations with other mothers are also a myth. There is no such thing. What happens is that one mother will be spouting on about her bloody kid/s and lecturing about the best way to do child-related things (ie, her way), and all the other ones are just waiting for her to stop talking so they can start talking about their kid/s and how their way of doing things is actually the best. No-one is listening to what is being said. I am not like this (not to the same extent as everyone else seems to be at any rate), and so I can spend the whole time not actually speaking, and normally do. Two very easy ways of winning friends and influencing mothers is to pretend to listen breathlessly to their boring anecdotes about what Snotface did this week, and to ask how they do a particular thing (pretending that you want their advice). Four hours will fly by and they won't have asked a thing about you or your life, but they'll think you're just wonderful.
• You know how everyone always says "ah, they grow up so fast." I thought it was just one of those vague phrases that is used when you can't think of what to say. It turns out it was actually a warning. Literally, there will be clothes that did fit perfectly well at the start of a week and do not fit at all by the end of it. Babies are like those monstrous weeds that they measure the growth of in miles per hour. You can see the changes every day. Fer-reaky.
• Another thing which has just occurred to me: on "parenting" websites, people (and I use the term loosely) will insist on referring to their family members as DD, DS or DH. I was a bit mystified, and then found out what it stood for. I wish I hadn't bothered. They are Darling Daughter, Son or Husband respectively. For Fucks Sakes.