Sometimes being surrounded by the material gifts this holiday brings always makes me snap back to what matters most, and it’s never what’s under the Christmas tree, but who’s around it.

I’m honestly considering opening a therapy office staffed entirely by toddlers who can offer stream-of-consciousness, non-sequitur advice on all of life’s Big Issues, because honestly, sometimes they reveal to us that maybe things are a lot simpler than we like to think.

It’s been a while since I believed in the Big Guy in the Red Suit myself, but having kids has made me appreciate the Christmas season in a whole new light. That being said, if there did happen to be an overweight man with a penchant for red fleece-lined suits living at the northernmost corner of our planet, just waiting with bated breath to grant the wishes of a near-40-year-old, this would be my list.

Everywhere, we see new mothers. At the store, newborns snugged into carriers, their tiny, soft faces wilted into their mothers’ chests. In strollers, snugged and bundled against the cold, tiny eyes peeking out from under hats. Everywhere and always, heart-wrenchingly adorable.

So our 18-month-old is doing this thing lately that’s got me, let’s just say, on edge. I turned my back for literally one minute (1 minute!) the other day while she and the other two kids were in the kitchen, and I kid you not, when I came back in she was walking across the kitchen island.

So, you just had a baby. Welcome to motherhood! And welcome officially to The Dark Days of Your Nipples. (More on this later.)

I’m hardly a by-the-book person. In fact, the dozen or so books on parenting and baby sleep that I bought have all ended up serving as candle-holders on my nightstand, rather than actual resources to inform my mothering.

It always starts with me crying at random times, in random locations. Outside a drug store. Walking a lake path, as I catch a glimpse of the way the wind catches the water and pushes it into jagged caps. At Trader Joe’s, in the produce aisle.

So here you are, in your last month of pregnancy. By this point, you’ve already done a ton of work. But there’s one more thing to prepare before you meet your baby, and that’s your hospital bag.

There is no other way to describe this past Friday than messy. I don’t mean that in a figurative sense, but in a very literal sense. Specifically, it was bloody.