I Dislike My Baby Daddy (For at least, 10 Minutes a Day)

Let’s get the "Instagram vs. Reality" check out of the way immediately. You see the cute photos of us? The ones where we are holding hands over the car seat, smiling like a happy little family?

That was taken at 2:00 PM.

At 3:00 AM, the vibe was different. Last Tuesday, specifically, I looked at my boyfriend sleeping peacefully while the baby screamed, and I had a very vivid daydream about smothering him with a pillow. I didn’t do it. Obviously. But I thought about it. Let’s talk about postpartum rage and the relationship resentment nobody warns you about.

The Lie We Were Sold

People love to tell teen parents, "Aww, a baby will bring you so much closer!"

Lies.

A baby does not bring you closer. A baby turns you into exhausted roommates who work in a factory that produces noise and poop 24 hours a day. We aren't "lovers" right now. We are co-workers. And right now, I feel like my coworker is slacking off on the job.

The "Sleep" Resentment

If there is one thing that will make you hate the person you love, it’s the sound of them snoring while you are awake.

There is a specific type of rage that bubbles up in your chest when you are rocking a colicky baby, your back is breaking, you haven't showered in three days... and you look over at the bed. And there he is. mouth open. Drooling. Dreaming about football or Fortnite or whatever.

He wakes up the next morning and has the audacity—the absolute audacity—to say: "Man, I’m so tired."

Tired? You slept for six hours in a row. I slept in 45-minute intervals interrupted by screaming. If you say you’re tired one more time, I am going to put laxatives in your Gatorade.

The "Freedom" Jealousy

This is the part that hurts the most. Since we are young, we still have "lives" we are supposed to be living. But usually, the mom is the default parent.

• He goes to football practice.

• He goes to his boy's house to play 2K.

• He goes to the gym.

And I? I am here. With the baby.

When he walks out the door and says, "I'll be back in two hours," I want to scream. Must be nice. Must be nice to just leave. Must be nice to walk out of the house without packing a diaper bag, a stroller, two bottles, and a change of clothes.

I don't hate him because he's going out. I hate him because I’m jealous. I’m jealous that his life didn't completely stop the way mine feels like it did.

The Standoffs

We have developed toxic little games we play.

1. The "I Don't Smell It" Game: We are watching Netflix. The baby rips a massive fart. We both hear it. We both smell it. But we both sit there, frozen, staring at the TV. The first person to acknowledge the smell has to change the diaper. I have held my breath for four minutes just to win this game.

2. The "Weaponized Incompetence" Trap: This is when he puts the diaper on backward or "can't find" the onesies that are right in front of his face, so I just get frustrated and do it myself. I see what you’re doing. It’s not cute.

The "10 Minutes" Rule

Here is the truth, though.

I dislike him at 3 AM. I dislike him when he leaves for the gym. I dislike him when he asks "what's for dinner" like I’m a 1950s housewife instead of an exhausted teenager.

But then, he comes home. He picks up the baby. He makes him laugh that deep belly laugh that I can never get him to do. He looks at me, sees the bags under my eyes, and grabs a bottle so I can go take a nap.

And in those moments, I remember. We are both just kids. We are both terrified. We are both trying to figure out how to keep a human alive when we can barely take care of ourselves.

So yeah, I dislike him for about 10 minutes a day. But for the other 23 hours and 50 minutes? We’re a team. A tired, smelling-like-spit-up, broken team. But seriously... if he snores tonight, pray for him.

---

DROP A COMMENT: What is the pettiest fight you and your baby daddy/mama have had since the baby was born? Mine was over who drank the last Capri-Sun.