This morning I was a Bad Mom, and I went to get a quiet brunch alone. My husband sent me away with specific instructions to "recharge". I decided to have breakfast (at noon), and eat it while it was still hot. (Winning!) I enjoyed every bite while thumbing through my Instagram, my Facebook feed, Pinterest... ang suddenly I realized I wasn't recharging. I was feeling heavy over all the political posts and garbage... I was comparing myself to my friends and how much prettier they were than I... I was wishing to have the perfect house/living room/wardrobe that I would never have. So I put the phone down and I closed my eyes to soak in the moment.
I overheard the wait staff talking about their plans for the evening. When the manager came around, they invited him along. A busy businesswoman was making her calls, and she ended each call with "Have a great day today!". But what I noticed most was the sweet little girl in the booth in front of me, She was eating with her mom and Nana, but was playing peekaboo with me. Her mom corrected her by her name and told her to turn around and get ready to go. I looked at the mom and I told her, "She is just so sweet!"
"Well thanks, you want her?!" with a laugh.
"I have three at home, but I'll take her! Did you say her name was Emery? I have an Emery!"
Soon the three of them were at my table and we were excitedly chatting and showing photos to one another. I showed them a photo of my Emery and the mother said, "Oh Emoree! Look! You guys have the same name; you are twins!" The 2 year old little girl just beamed looking at my Emery, who is 11 months. The mother told me how beautiful my Emery was, and I told her how adorable her Emoree was. Nana told me how her and her twin brother were going to be 44 tomorrow. It was a sweet connection we all had.
As they got ready to leave the little girl waved bye and I told them how nice it was talking to them. The mother told me to tell Emoree's twin hello.
I don't know who they voted for. I do know that this sweet mother called her daughter, with beautiful brown skin and big brown eyes, and my daughter, with white skin and green eyes, twins. I could have scooped up little Emoree, and her mom and Nana, in a hug right then and there if I had the guts.
It's such a simple moment, that meant so much to me in a world where everything is divided right now.
Where it's THIS or THAT. Where it's "IF YOU voted _______, then you obviously believe ________". Two little girls (and their mothers) were made aware of their SIMILARITIES and not their differences.
That could make all the difference.
Monday, November 14, 2016
Thursday, October 6, 2016
There is No Reward for 'The Most Exhausted Mom'
How did your mom send you off to school?
My mom, the greatest mom I know, sent me off to school in my sister's hand-me-downs and $1.25 in quarters for lunch. I reused backpacks until they fell apart, she made or borrowed my Halloween costumes, and I wore a key on a chain around my neck when I was allowed to stay home by myself (in the 5th grade). When I ate lunch I ate white bread and Oscar Meyer. I came home when the streetlights came on. As a baby I was bathed in Johnson & Johnson. If my parents had errands to do, you bet I was along with them, and they weren't bothered by keeping me entertained. I dealt with it. I was a kid and I could use my imagination or whatever I wanted as long as I kept quiet.
Almost none of these things are socially acceptable now in the mom circles. We are judged on if our children's crackers are in the fish or the bunny form (you are totally in the mom world if you know the difference there...). There are moms who perfect the art of making child-like bento boxes for lunch. Tediously placing their lunch together like it is art to make a dinosaur or beach scene. We load ourselves down with diaper bags full of toys and iPads and snacks, and secretly sweat the tantrum our child may throw in public.
Being a mom has always been a tough and thankless job, but it has reached an all new level of possible-nervous-breakdowness in this generation. Mom shamming via social media is real, and it is ruthless. I have been to mommy groups who have made me feel more ostracized than the cruelest day of high school ever has. So what do we do? We do our best to dazzle! We Pinterest. We one-up. We send little Jonny home with a sleepover favor that will make his mom KNOW that we are the best slumber party hostess in the whole city. Maybe the saddest part about this is sometimes we don't even mean to. We want to make our kids happy; we are kid-centered in our lives. So and Susie tells our child that her mommy hand makes her dolls from unicorn hair, gosh darn it OUR KID NEEDS THAT TOO. When we hear that Lucinda from the PTA does the magical elf that creates messes (because we need more messes) for our children each of the 25 days of Christmas (WHEN did Christmas become 25DAYS?!), we want to be super mommy for our children too.
The truth is, I am a terrible critic of myself. I feel like I have failed when my child isn't in GAP clothing and looking like a tiny adult model like the other kids in his class. "That poor child's mother", the other moms will say, "Is that polyester? Tsk tsk tsk." So I drop him off in class looking like a zombie myself because I have zero time for myself because I'm reading the ingredients on the hair gel to make sure it's child friendly so I can style his hair like it will last more than the .2 seconds it takes to walk to the car.
I am tired.
However, there is good news! There is NO reward for the most exhausted mom. Yep, you read that right. While you may sit and have a puzzled look on your face right now, let me explain:
Let's take a break guys. Instead of wearing our kid-pleasing-homemade-treat-non-GMO badges with pride, let's go out for a girl's night- with drinks! We aren't getting any rewards or recognition when we exhaust ourselves the way we do, what we are getting is kind of tiny brats. There. I said it. I love my children; I don't want to make them brats! They need to learn that no means no, and that the world actually does not revolve around them. Hard work and patience and delayed gratification need to return into our vocabularies when it comes to our children. I digress. Mommies, what I am saying is we cannot pour from an empty cup. We over over-friend and way beyond tense. I know I actually miss precious little stories and moments with my son when I am trying to make our lives appear Instagram perfect. The messes made, and the moments of surrender to seizing the day, are where memories are made. I had grey carpet in my room as a child and boy was it stained, but each stain held a story. A story of playing with cheap makeup, or popcorn butter and movies, or the pet I had to have.
There is not some judge that will walk up to the mom who has been awake for the most hours or the mom who has spent the most money on her child. Those moms are great moms! But I know I am a greater mom when I take care of myself, even just a bit. Whether that's going out with my girlfriends every Thursday night, or pushing off doing the dishes to take a nap with my son, or having a date night with my husband. Sometimes when those overachieving moms hear that I do these things to protect my sanity they throw out there, "Oh I could never do that. I haven't left Calvin for more than a few hours in the 60 months he's been in my life!" or "Oh I just wish my husband and I could abandon our children for a night away, but we just love them so!" (Okay, maybe the comments aren't that bad... but I promise you sometimes they comments I receive are just as condescending). Stop that. Just stop it moms! Recharge yourself and come back home swinging and ready to knock out some moment-seizing! Not for your Facebook wall, but for your child's childhood. It is true, you cannot truly take care of another if you are running on empty yourself. And moms, there is a big difference between a girl's dinner out and leaving your child to be raised by the nanny. You deserve a night! Put yourself first every once in a while, even if that means starting small and just spending 45 minutes in the bathroom uninterrupted. Go out for a date night! One of the best things you can do for your children is to show them a shining example of a healthy marriage. (But more on that another time...)
There is no reward for being The Most Exhausted Mom. So don't be! Be a Great Mom who loves her children, but also one who loves herself enough to take that step (no matter how small it is) to treat (and love) herself.
Being a mom has always been a tough and thankless job, but it has reached an all new level of possible-nervous-breakdowness in this generation. Mom shamming via social media is real, and it is ruthless. I have been to mommy groups who have made me feel more ostracized than the cruelest day of high school ever has. So what do we do? We do our best to dazzle! We Pinterest. We one-up. We send little Jonny home with a sleepover favor that will make his mom KNOW that we are the best slumber party hostess in the whole city. Maybe the saddest part about this is sometimes we don't even mean to. We want to make our kids happy; we are kid-centered in our lives. So and Susie tells our child that her mommy hand makes her dolls from unicorn hair, gosh darn it OUR KID NEEDS THAT TOO. When we hear that Lucinda from the PTA does the magical elf that creates messes (because we need more messes) for our children each of the 25 days of Christmas (WHEN did Christmas become 25DAYS?!), we want to be super mommy for our children too.
The truth is, I am a terrible critic of myself. I feel like I have failed when my child isn't in GAP clothing and looking like a tiny adult model like the other kids in his class. "That poor child's mother", the other moms will say, "Is that polyester? Tsk tsk tsk." So I drop him off in class looking like a zombie myself because I have zero time for myself because I'm reading the ingredients on the hair gel to make sure it's child friendly so I can style his hair like it will last more than the .2 seconds it takes to walk to the car.
I am tired.
However, there is good news! There is NO reward for the most exhausted mom. Yep, you read that right. While you may sit and have a puzzled look on your face right now, let me explain:
Let's take a break guys. Instead of wearing our kid-pleasing-homemade-treat-non-GMO badges with pride, let's go out for a girl's night- with drinks! We aren't getting any rewards or recognition when we exhaust ourselves the way we do, what we are getting is kind of tiny brats. There. I said it. I love my children; I don't want to make them brats! They need to learn that no means no, and that the world actually does not revolve around them. Hard work and patience and delayed gratification need to return into our vocabularies when it comes to our children. I digress. Mommies, what I am saying is we cannot pour from an empty cup. We over over-friend and way beyond tense. I know I actually miss precious little stories and moments with my son when I am trying to make our lives appear Instagram perfect. The messes made, and the moments of surrender to seizing the day, are where memories are made. I had grey carpet in my room as a child and boy was it stained, but each stain held a story. A story of playing with cheap makeup, or popcorn butter and movies, or the pet I had to have.
There is not some judge that will walk up to the mom who has been awake for the most hours or the mom who has spent the most money on her child. Those moms are great moms! But I know I am a greater mom when I take care of myself, even just a bit. Whether that's going out with my girlfriends every Thursday night, or pushing off doing the dishes to take a nap with my son, or having a date night with my husband. Sometimes when those overachieving moms hear that I do these things to protect my sanity they throw out there, "Oh I could never do that. I haven't left Calvin for more than a few hours in the 60 months he's been in my life!" or "Oh I just wish my husband and I could abandon our children for a night away, but we just love them so!" (Okay, maybe the comments aren't that bad... but I promise you sometimes they comments I receive are just as condescending). Stop that. Just stop it moms! Recharge yourself and come back home swinging and ready to knock out some moment-seizing! Not for your Facebook wall, but for your child's childhood. It is true, you cannot truly take care of another if you are running on empty yourself. And moms, there is a big difference between a girl's dinner out and leaving your child to be raised by the nanny. You deserve a night! Put yourself first every once in a while, even if that means starting small and just spending 45 minutes in the bathroom uninterrupted. Go out for a date night! One of the best things you can do for your children is to show them a shining example of a healthy marriage. (But more on that another time...)
There is no reward for being The Most Exhausted Mom. So don't be! Be a Great Mom who loves her children, but also one who loves herself enough to take that step (no matter how small it is) to treat (and love) herself.
Start now.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
The ReBoot to my Blog
It has been over two years since my last post, and the last few posts were rushed and careless.
There have been many times over the last few years that I have wanted to reboot this blog, but I have not until now for numerous reasons. I was worried I didn't have anything to say (still am). I told myself I was too busy (still am). I thought about just starting all over, with a new fresh blog (but to be honest, this blog is where I started, and it will always draw me closer).
In the past two years, like many, I have experienced great joy and grief. I have had so much joy in my life being a mom to my sweet miracle baby, Sullivan. So much so that we continued to try for another baby. When Sully's second birthday neared, he requested a little sister and I just knew it was time to turn to IVF again. We geared up for our third cycle.
During our third cycle (which I may post more about later) we learned that my AMH was low. This is basically how many eggs are left in the carton. Long story short, we learned that my ovaries thought I was in my 40's and that this would likely be our last try at a IVF cycle. We were scraping the bottom of the barrel, and so our wonderful miracle-giving doctor decided to make it a hell of a try. That meant more drugs, more side effects, and (hopefully) more eggs and more embryos and maybe even blasts to freeze for later tries. Egg retrieval didn't give us the results we were hoping for right away, but it wasn't the worst news. We got 12 eggs, the same as our first cycle. However this time 9 of those eggies froze and we were going into transfer with our more embryos yet! Transfer day came and we were surprised (not surprised) by "lackluster results" once again. We did have a NINE CELL though- which was our best embryo yet! Our RE was "sure" this one was going to take. We had a few six-celled embryos, but they had plenty of fragmentation. Our angel of a doctor suggested we put in this little four cell embryo. I was skeptical. Our first cycle we put in two four celled embryos and we got a heartbreaking BFN. In the end, I trusted her. Lying on the table Dr. Cooper came in with so much excitement, "I think it's already a six cell this morning!" she almost sang. She joked that she was giving us twin girls and my exact words were "Oh don't do that to me!". We laughed because she knew I would take what I could get.
I was sick. Almost sick right away. I had this gut feeling it was twins, and I tried to convince Walter it was twins while trying to convince everyone else it wasn't. I wanted Walter to have time to let the possibility of twins "settle" because I just had this strong feeling... but I wanted everyone else to get used to the idea that we would be thrilled with one baby. I didn't want to hear the "oh just one" comments again.
Because I plan to blog more about this later, I'll cut to the happy ending: We are proud parents of now 10-month-old twin girls. God (and Dr. Cooper) knew better than we did, because our twincesses fit perfectly in our little family. Sully got his wish, not just with one sister, but with TWO! He somehow knew it all along, telling us the news of it being two sister when we told him he was going to be a Big Brother. "Well buddy, we don't know if it will be one or two, or even if it will be a sister or a brother... but we do know you are a Big Brother now and that is exciting enough!" He nodded along, but he was already convinced and then tried to explain that he knew otherwise. We should have listened I guess.
So our circus now consists of a sleepy daddy and a busy mommy of three kiddos now 3 and under. Sully is already 3 (almost 3-and-a-half) and the girls turned 10 months old on the 2nd. Life is sweet, beautiful chaos.
Now you have a little more backstory. I'm not sure who I'm talking to, but I hope if anyone is out there reading that I can give you some gem that you enjoy in the future. I hope to get my fingers to typing a few times a week. I'll blog about life and mommyhood after infertility, and the circus our home is now. If no one decides to read,: Sully, Emery, and Anie, I hope someday you are able to read and see just how much joy you brought my days.
More to come.
There have been many times over the last few years that I have wanted to reboot this blog, but I have not until now for numerous reasons. I was worried I didn't have anything to say (still am). I told myself I was too busy (still am). I thought about just starting all over, with a new fresh blog (but to be honest, this blog is where I started, and it will always draw me closer).
Walter and I now, almost 30 and still trying to get our act together.
In the past two years, like many, I have experienced great joy and grief. I have had so much joy in my life being a mom to my sweet miracle baby, Sullivan. So much so that we continued to try for another baby. When Sully's second birthday neared, he requested a little sister and I just knew it was time to turn to IVF again. We geared up for our third cycle.
Our handsome boy now. He has grown up so!
During our third cycle (which I may post more about later) we learned that my AMH was low. This is basically how many eggs are left in the carton. Long story short, we learned that my ovaries thought I was in my 40's and that this would likely be our last try at a IVF cycle. We were scraping the bottom of the barrel, and so our wonderful miracle-giving doctor decided to make it a hell of a try. That meant more drugs, more side effects, and (hopefully) more eggs and more embryos and maybe even blasts to freeze for later tries. Egg retrieval didn't give us the results we were hoping for right away, but it wasn't the worst news. We got 12 eggs, the same as our first cycle. However this time 9 of those eggies froze and we were going into transfer with our more embryos yet! Transfer day came and we were surprised (not surprised) by "lackluster results" once again. We did have a NINE CELL though- which was our best embryo yet! Our RE was "sure" this one was going to take. We had a few six-celled embryos, but they had plenty of fragmentation. Our angel of a doctor suggested we put in this little four cell embryo. I was skeptical. Our first cycle we put in two four celled embryos and we got a heartbreaking BFN. In the end, I trusted her. Lying on the table Dr. Cooper came in with so much excitement, "I think it's already a six cell this morning!" she almost sang. She joked that she was giving us twin girls and my exact words were "Oh don't do that to me!". We laughed because she knew I would take what I could get.
I was sick. Almost sick right away. I had this gut feeling it was twins, and I tried to convince Walter it was twins while trying to convince everyone else it wasn't. I wanted Walter to have time to let the possibility of twins "settle" because I just had this strong feeling... but I wanted everyone else to get used to the idea that we would be thrilled with one baby. I didn't want to hear the "oh just one" comments again.
Because I plan to blog more about this later, I'll cut to the happy ending: We are proud parents of now 10-month-old twin girls. God (and Dr. Cooper) knew better than we did, because our twincesses fit perfectly in our little family. Sully got his wish, not just with one sister, but with TWO! He somehow knew it all along, telling us the news of it being two sister when we told him he was going to be a Big Brother. "Well buddy, we don't know if it will be one or two, or even if it will be a sister or a brother... but we do know you are a Big Brother now and that is exciting enough!" He nodded along, but he was already convinced and then tried to explain that he knew otherwise. We should have listened I guess.
35 weeks in, and 35 weeks out.
Anberlin Lily (left) and Emery June.
So our circus now consists of a sleepy daddy and a busy mommy of three kiddos now 3 and under. Sully is already 3 (almost 3-and-a-half) and the girls turned 10 months old on the 2nd. Life is sweet, beautiful chaos.
Proud daddy and his three monsters.
Sully honestly couldn't love them more. He is the best Big Brother to them and is very proud of his "job".
Now you have a little more backstory. I'm not sure who I'm talking to, but I hope if anyone is out there reading that I can give you some gem that you enjoy in the future. I hope to get my fingers to typing a few times a week. I'll blog about life and mommyhood after infertility, and the circus our home is now. If no one decides to read,: Sully, Emery, and Anie, I hope someday you are able to read and see just how much joy you brought my days.
My (not so little) family on Grace's Day, still remembering our first angel.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Eek.
Has it really been a year since I've posted here?
How I got back here, and how my blogs are situated, is just a mess. Sully has been doing some blog-worthy things lately, and so I debated starting a family blog to "start fresh". For awhile I was blogging on Sullivan's Travels about Sully's updates, but it became pretty barren (see what I did there? har har) at around 9 months when his serious separation anxiety hit. So anyways, I got back on my dashboard and I just saw inconceivable! sitting there, all tossed to the side and it kinda broke my heart.
You know, there's a reason I choose 'inconceivable!' and it's not only because of the play on words of my lack of ability to conceive. I chose it because it means "unbelievable!" and I had planned to have an "unbelievable!" pregnancy, followed by this amazingly "unbelievable!" life...
Even tying that last sentence causes me to pause and drift off into dreaming. Truth is, motherhood is so much harder than I thought it was going to be. Most of those promises I made myself I have broken when it comes to never taking a single moment for granted. Sometimes the mundane and business of life just beats you, and you lose sight of the "unbelievable!" plans you had.
This life that I am living is a true gift. I know that and I won't deny it for a moment. Am I the mother I always thought I would be? No. Am I learning (after so many wrong turns) that the kind of mother I am is okay? I'm getting there.
So I have decided to consolidate blog entries and continue my blogging here. It may be far past the time I should have returned, but I am returning nonetheless.
So what have we been doing the last year? Surviving.
Parenthood is messy, and not in the cutesy Hallmark-card way of saying messy, it is MES-SY! Not just in the snot on my shoulder sleeves or in the scattered toys on the floor, but also by the complicated "discussions" it brings up between you and your spouse, and in the way your schedule is out the window.
I can hear the deep sighs already. I am not complaining in the least! Just reporting my findings. :)
Sully is doing great! Believe it or not (I can't/won't), he will be TWO next month! Two years of being his momma, of learning joy in entirely new ways. I know what being so wrapped up in paralyzing joy feels that you can cry at any moment. I spent many of our first family outings/moments wiping away tears. Walter came to just smile and them and try to understand instead of question me which ultimately just made me lie about dust in my eyes. His first giggle, his first dive into a cupcake, his first train ride, his first squeal of excitement, his first "I love youuuuu!". All of those moments have come and gone now, but they are still living in my heart. I am his mama, the keeper of these memories, and they are embedded in my like my nerves twist and turn throughout my entire body. I can never forget some of these moments.
And the tears of frustration, oh the tears f frustration! Have I had those too! Frustrated about breastfeeding struggles, and his first public temper tantrum, and his struggle with hitting in anger. "What did I get myself into?!" I've asked. After years of trying to conceive, and all this prep work and prayer to have a baby... I am still so human. I am still a broken being, and a broken mommy. Even though I try so very hard (and int he times that I don't), I mess up. Sully isn't even two yet and I am positive he has taught me more than I have taught him. He was made to be my child.
When times get hard I've been saying that phrase to myself lately. There is a reason he looks like his Daddy and acts like me, because I am learning so much about myself, and so much about putting others first.
How I got back here, and how my blogs are situated, is just a mess. Sully has been doing some blog-worthy things lately, and so I debated starting a family blog to "start fresh". For awhile I was blogging on Sullivan's Travels about Sully's updates, but it became pretty barren (see what I did there? har har) at around 9 months when his serious separation anxiety hit. So anyways, I got back on my dashboard and I just saw inconceivable! sitting there, all tossed to the side and it kinda broke my heart.
You know, there's a reason I choose 'inconceivable!' and it's not only because of the play on words of my lack of ability to conceive. I chose it because it means "unbelievable!" and I had planned to have an "unbelievable!" pregnancy, followed by this amazingly "unbelievable!" life...
Even tying that last sentence causes me to pause and drift off into dreaming. Truth is, motherhood is so much harder than I thought it was going to be. Most of those promises I made myself I have broken when it comes to never taking a single moment for granted. Sometimes the mundane and business of life just beats you, and you lose sight of the "unbelievable!" plans you had.
This life that I am living is a true gift. I know that and I won't deny it for a moment. Am I the mother I always thought I would be? No. Am I learning (after so many wrong turns) that the kind of mother I am is okay? I'm getting there.
So I have decided to consolidate blog entries and continue my blogging here. It may be far past the time I should have returned, but I am returning nonetheless.
So what have we been doing the last year? Surviving.
Parenthood is messy, and not in the cutesy Hallmark-card way of saying messy, it is MES-SY! Not just in the snot on my shoulder sleeves or in the scattered toys on the floor, but also by the complicated "discussions" it brings up between you and your spouse, and in the way your schedule is out the window.
I can hear the deep sighs already. I am not complaining in the least! Just reporting my findings. :)
Sully is doing great! Believe it or not (I can't/won't), he will be TWO next month! Two years of being his momma, of learning joy in entirely new ways. I know what being so wrapped up in paralyzing joy feels that you can cry at any moment. I spent many of our first family outings/moments wiping away tears. Walter came to just smile and them and try to understand instead of question me which ultimately just made me lie about dust in my eyes. His first giggle, his first dive into a cupcake, his first train ride, his first squeal of excitement, his first "I love youuuuu!". All of those moments have come and gone now, but they are still living in my heart. I am his mama, the keeper of these memories, and they are embedded in my like my nerves twist and turn throughout my entire body. I can never forget some of these moments.
And the tears of frustration, oh the tears f frustration! Have I had those too! Frustrated about breastfeeding struggles, and his first public temper tantrum, and his struggle with hitting in anger. "What did I get myself into?!" I've asked. After years of trying to conceive, and all this prep work and prayer to have a baby... I am still so human. I am still a broken being, and a broken mommy. Even though I try so very hard (and int he times that I don't), I mess up. Sully isn't even two yet and I am positive he has taught me more than I have taught him. He was made to be my child.
When times get hard I've been saying that phrase to myself lately. There is a reason he looks like his Daddy and acts like me, because I am learning so much about myself, and so much about putting others first.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Before I Became 'Mama'
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. I lost a baby in December of 2010, who we named Grace.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. I had been a nanny for many years 'filling' Mama's shoes while they were away.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. Many girls had called me their 'second mother' when I taught them in youth Sunday school and I adored them like I was.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. I was a teacher at a daycare and I took many childhood education classes and filled many requirements.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. I had fulfilled all the requirements to become a licensed foster parent with my husband.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. However, I had no experience in being a parent.
When my son was born, he not only made me a 'mom' he made me a parent. Before that day I thought I knew it all. It was simple. I would never do [this] and I would always do [that]... whatever [this] and [that] may be. I knew all the 'right' things to do, and I had all the training. I was able to manage a classfull of infants, toddlers, and children... surely I could manage just one of my own.
I was a friend to those who were hurt by their moms. I kissed the booboos away. I was involved. I did a lot of leg work. I knew their favorite color, their favorite band, the current crush.
I read books, I took classes, I had years of experience... surely, I would dominate this "mom thing".
And I did.
But then I became a parent.
Being a parent is no longer about knowing the right things, or loving more than your heart can handle, or being the best of friends to a child... it's about parenting. And parenting, my dear friends, is a whole other story.
There are days when I know what to do, the answer is in my head somewhere, but when I see my poor boy gagging, or crying, in pain, or even just smiling sweetly I can't access it.
I am no longer making the 'best' decision for a child, I am making the best decision for MY child. Before it was all about books and studies and what the experts say... but Sully has proven to me that I am the expert, even when I freeze on decision making. He isn't a statistic, and the 'right' choice might not be the one for him.
Before I became a parent I swore I would NEVER co-sleep, and I believe in crying-it-out, and I vowed to always teach them with educational toys and never allow them to watch TV in their pajamas at 2pm. And then I did. Because sometimes co-sleeping is just what he needs, and sometimes those late days in our PJs are our favorites. I no longer believe it CIO. He is a person, not just this thing I've promised to "train". And those are just the decisions we make as mommies. CIO might be the best thing for your baby, as well as formula, or co-sleeping, or cloth diapering... and that is why YOU are the expert in your child.
My advice?
1) Have confidence in your parenting. You are the only person who knows your child the way you do.
2) Try not to make any vows before you parent, because you may just eat those up like I did. :)
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. I had been a nanny for many years 'filling' Mama's shoes while they were away.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. Many girls had called me their 'second mother' when I taught them in youth Sunday school and I adored them like I was.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. I was a teacher at a daycare and I took many childhood education classes and filled many requirements.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. I had fulfilled all the requirements to become a licensed foster parent with my husband.
Before my son was born, I was a 'mom'. However, I had no experience in being a parent.
When my son was born, he not only made me a 'mom' he made me a parent. Before that day I thought I knew it all. It was simple. I would never do [this] and I would always do [that]... whatever [this] and [that] may be. I knew all the 'right' things to do, and I had all the training. I was able to manage a classfull of infants, toddlers, and children... surely I could manage just one of my own.
I was a friend to those who were hurt by their moms. I kissed the booboos away. I was involved. I did a lot of leg work. I knew their favorite color, their favorite band, the current crush.
I read books, I took classes, I had years of experience... surely, I would dominate this "mom thing".
And I did.
But then I became a parent.
Being a parent is no longer about knowing the right things, or loving more than your heart can handle, or being the best of friends to a child... it's about parenting. And parenting, my dear friends, is a whole other story.
There are days when I know what to do, the answer is in my head somewhere, but when I see my poor boy gagging, or crying, in pain, or even just smiling sweetly I can't access it.
I am no longer making the 'best' decision for a child, I am making the best decision for MY child. Before it was all about books and studies and what the experts say... but Sully has proven to me that I am the expert, even when I freeze on decision making. He isn't a statistic, and the 'right' choice might not be the one for him.
Before I became a parent I swore I would NEVER co-sleep, and I believe in crying-it-out, and I vowed to always teach them with educational toys and never allow them to watch TV in their pajamas at 2pm. And then I did. Because sometimes co-sleeping is just what he needs, and sometimes those late days in our PJs are our favorites. I no longer believe it CIO. He is a person, not just this thing I've promised to "train". And those are just the decisions we make as mommies. CIO might be the best thing for your baby, as well as formula, or co-sleeping, or cloth diapering... and that is why YOU are the expert in your child.
My advice?
1) Have confidence in your parenting. You are the only person who knows your child the way you do.
2) Try not to make any vows before you parent, because you may just eat those up like I did. :)
Friday, January 24, 2014
10 Baby Items You Do Not Need!
Alright, I may not be an expert on mommyhood (just yet- ha!) but I am an expert of buying unnecessary things. All too often I get caught up in whatever season of life I'm in and all of a sudden I'm like "Buy ALL the things!". It's unfortunate. Just like a bride, who buys everything white and wedding related, when I found out I was (finally) going to become a mom I just KNEW I had to have it ALL. Because, let's be honest, if my son wasn't going to come into the world having a spa-like bathtub, what kind of mom would I be?!
Truth is, I wish I would have read this blog I'm about to write. Well, that would have been impossible, but I think you know what I mean! Anyway, as moms-to-be we are swept up in the ads and the commercials and what our other mom-to-be friends have/had/dreamed about having and we want to give our unborn child it all! However, I suggest doing yourself a favor and skipping the 10 items I've listed here (because the more money you save on unnecessary items, the more money you can blow on all-too-adorable clothes! ... Let's be honest... the more money you'll have for take-out when you are just too tired to cook).
WARNING: These are my personal opinions. I am not a doctor or a baby guru. This is what worked for me, and this is what I've learned shortly after being a FTM myself. Please do not come to me three months after having your child swearing at me and telling me I need to pay your child's therapy bills because you feel like he missed out on the fancy-schmancies of life. Also, please don't be offended if you happen to get me these things on this list. You got me something far more valuable than an item, but you gave me wisdom. Most items were returned/sold to the next guy and I got something else for lil man.
1) Everything but the kitchen sink.
I registered for:
Truth is, I wish I would have read this blog I'm about to write. Well, that would have been impossible, but I think you know what I mean! Anyway, as moms-to-be we are swept up in the ads and the commercials and what our other mom-to-be friends have/had/dreamed about having and we want to give our unborn child it all! However, I suggest doing yourself a favor and skipping the 10 items I've listed here (because the more money you save on unnecessary items, the more money you can blow on all-too-adorable clothes! ... Let's be honest... the more money you'll have for take-out when you are just too tired to cook).
WARNING: These are my personal opinions. I am not a doctor or a baby guru. This is what worked for me, and this is what I've learned shortly after being a FTM myself. Please do not come to me three months after having your child swearing at me and telling me I need to pay your child's therapy bills because you feel like he missed out on the fancy-schmancies of life. Also, please don't be offended if you happen to get me these things on this list. You got me something far more valuable than an item, but you gave me wisdom. Most items were returned/sold to the next guy and I got something else for lil man.
1) Everything but the kitchen sink.
I registered for:
What I should have used instead:
When it comes to bathing baby you envision sweet bubbles and stroking your child's wet little hairs... but in all reality most of the time it's a get-in-and-get-out situation. I registered for this beautiful whirlpool spa bathtub before even thinking where I would put it in our home. It didn't fit on our kitchen counters, and I didn't want to stoop over and have it on the floor. So I cleaned off the dining room table and went from there. Just as I was elbows deep in water and suds and having 'that' moment with my sweet baby boy I hear my husband (who is running around us taking 'candid' snapshots of the moment) say "Um, where is all this water coming from?!" and then I realize it... I forgot to make sure the drainage plug was snug. The water line around my son was shrinking every moment and soon my toes were wet. I used that tub a few more times before I realized co-bathing was sooo much easier and totally the choice for me. The times I didn't co-bathe I just used the seat that came with the "spa tub" (literally 1/6th the cost!) and put him in the tub. When Nana wanted to bathe him she plopped him in the sink. In short, there are just more practical options when it comes to bathing your baby. Get the basics (if anything), it's just going to wash off spit up and poop.
2) Sweet dreams:
What I thought I needed:
What I should have used instead:
Oh my goodness the co-sleeper... You know it worked great for a while or two, but most of the nights he just wanted to be on ME. I got the co-sleeper for the nights when my son just wouldn't give it up, and I thought "oh he needs that warmth and that smell of me... I'll just get this glorified box and put it in between hubby and I and we will all snooze right into dreamland!" Nope. I was right about one thing: he did want that warmth and scent, but if he was going to sleep in a box his crib would do just fine. When the crib wasn't working he *GASP* slept on mine (or more often Daddy's) chest. I know. It was something I swore I would never do before I was a parent... but that's a whole other blog in itself.
3) Sitting pretty:
What I registered for:
What I should have used:
This will teach him to sit, they said. It will keep him entertained for hours, they said. You've got to have it, they said. He sat in it a handful of times and each time it looked like a torture device. He couldn't sit straight up so he sat hunched over like an old man at Denny's over the last of the burnt coffee of the day. He didn't look comfortable. Instead, I did a lot of tummy time. It worked out his little tummy muscles just as much as everyone said the Bumbo would, yet the floor is FREE!
4) Excuse yourself:
What I stocked up on:
What ultimately was used instead:
Oh man I swore I would be one of those moms that would still look decent and look like I had it put together still after baby... and then I had one. I couldn't believe how elusive these burp cloths (all ONE MILLION) seemed to be. When spit happens, it happens and it usually comes with no warning. Instead of burp cloths, but extra outfit changes for yourself (and maybe a tarp, apron, or poncho...).
5) Like out of a magazine:
What I got:
What I used:
One of the first things I thought of getting when I found out I was pregnant was "THE Bedding Set". It had to be perfect, and it would make any room look like it came out of a magazine. Over $100 (for itty bitty blankets) was the norm, and it didn't matter if it was more than I paid for the bedding on my Queen size. I set it all up on the crib and took a picture. *Click* Then the baby books came... I read about no blanket until at least after 6 months. So I took that off. Then I read that the bumpers are now a hazard as well, so they came off. Soon I was left with the fitted sheet only, and I was feeling like I was a little ripped off. After grabbing a few more fitted sheets for less than 1/10th of the cost of the crib set I decided that I was officially stupid. I got so many amazing blankets (and even learned, and crocheted him one myself) that he hasn't really gotten to the bed set one yet and he is already nine months old. The picture of the crib waiting for baby may be worth a thousand words, but save yourself the "thousand" bucks.
6) Royal tush:
What everyone is getting now-a-days:
What I was smart enough to get instead (whew, I finally got one!):
Sure, the wipes get cold. Sure, he fussed every now and then early on. BUT (ha), he sweet little tush must have gotten tougher because soon he didn't mind the mildly cool wipe to clean his tush. I could only imagine how the babies react when they are used to their warm towelette and have to get a butt change out there in "the real world". My God, hold on to your seats! No thank you wipe warmer!
7) Piggly-wiggly:
The dream I dreamed:
The reality:
Know what I found out? The best shoes for baby from birth until about one year old is... NO shoes. Bare feet help them get their bearings easier, and are proven to help reach milestones earlier such as pulling up and walking. After getting about 10 pairs of too teeny tiny tootsie covers I found this out. Besides out growing them before you can cut the tag off, it's just not realistic to spend crazy amounts of baby shoes. One (two at the most) are totally enough. Seriously. Everyone thinks their cute when you take little picture of them when you are pregnant, but no one tells you just how many times your child will actually wear them (once in a blue moon) or how much time you'll spend looking for the "other one" (a bajillion hours), or just how silly you'll feel when you're wearing your $2 clearance flip flops from Old Navy and you try to put on your baby Chuck Taylors, Toms, or Hunter rain boots and they don't fit. Fail. Go with the sweet tootsies their born with, and for a second option go with thick socks from Target. The Circo ones are the best and they are sold in a 6 pack.
8) Snug as a bug:
What we got a lot of:
What they are used for:
Seriously tell me the reason for receiving blankets. They were too small to swaddle my child in, too big for burp cloths, and too thin to use for warmth in the car. I really have no idea what these are for and why everyone decides they are an awesome gift to give. They are not. Sorry, but maybe just grab a $10 gift card instead. I wound up cutting a few of ours up and using them for cloth wipes. In that case, they are super cute!
9) Oh boy:
Cute impulse purchase:
What actually saw the light of day:
(or of course any diaper will do!)
When I found out I was having a boy I found this cutest little basketball pee pee teepee. I brought it home with pride and showed my husband. "This goes on his penis so he doesn't pee on us during diaper changes" I explained... HA! That cute little basketball teepee hasn't left it's drawer since that day. Because you know why? 1) They really never stay on and 2) You are too busy CHANGING A DIAPER to use one! I don't know what I thought I was going to do while my son's dirty diaper was off, but apparently it might have been making a sandwich or painting my nails. Just take the dirty off, wipe, and throw that clean one on. Soon it'll be in record time, and whether you have a bundle of boy or a sweet bundle of girl you WILL get peed on. There aren't enough teepees or diapers or whatever to save you from it. AND that's just the beginning of the fluids.
10) Knowledge is power:
What I thought I wouldn't be able to live without:
What I learned:
As Spock said (no, not the Star Trek guy), "Trust yourself. You know more than you think you do." At nine months I just found my "What to Expect" book and realized that I had made it three quarters of the way through without no book at all. Sure, Google and WebMD and other mommies on Instagram helped me from time to time... but in the end I learned that my son isn't a statistic. He isn't going to grow in a way ALL the babies grow, and he isn't going to learn how EVERY baby learns. In the end, I am his and he is mine and we will figure it out as we get to know each other.
(This blog post could save you literally $405.71 if you follow it according to Amazon.com as of this moment. You are most welcome. Please make checks payable to me instead if you wish!)
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Where Are We Now?
I can't type the title without thinking of some cheesy VH1 special of where "that one guy in that one movie is", however some days I feel like that's pretty relate-able at best.
When Walter and I were TTC we were THAT couple. The couple that people talked about, mostly behind our backs, either good or bad. We got the hushed stares of strangers and the comments about how we were "too young" and "not giving it enough time". We didn't know anyone our age who had done IVF and we felt pretty lost. I spent a lot of time google-ing and reading blogs and studies. I wished so badly to be able to go and get coffee with someone who had "gone before me", but there was no one around to fill those shoes.
There are times I think of how sad and scary that sounds, and I am so proud we made it through... but there are also times I am so very thankful to have known no one. I had no one to compare embryo grades with; I had no one to tell me what I should expect; I had so much confidence. The first round I was so ignorant to the cruel world of IVF. I thought, "We are young, and we are doing IVF... we most definitely will get pregnant this first try!" But then I didn't. And this world came shattering around me. I wondered if anything would ever work for us. All hope and ignorance was lost.
Going into the second round was almost the opposite. I was so sure we were doing this second round as a failsafe. I was going through this round, betting myself I would come out on the other side to look at Walter and say, "See?! I TOLD you so!" when another round had failed. But it didn't.
Since our IVF rounds I have met so so SO many amazing women who have also endured the IVF waters. This community has accepted me and we encourage each other to keep trying, and to never give up. Some of us have had our miracle babies, and some of us are still waiting. Keep trying! Never give up!
Now I have this blessing of a baby boy in my home, and time has just been FLYING by! Next week he'll already be nine months old! I cannot tell you what joy this boy has brought me! Oftentimes I could still, without warning, break into happy tears as I did just a few nights ago when we took our sweet Sullivan to see Sesame Street LIVE. It's silly, but this is what I have been dreaming of! Not Sesame Street, but the "mundane", "everyday" life of being a mother. I think to myself, maybe if I hadn't experienced infertility I would moan about taking him to such a show. The kids are loud and packing him up is such a chore. Instead, I cried. Cried to see his face light up. Cried to hold him close and be known to the world as his Mommy.
And now I wonder... could I share this joy, this love, with another baby?
Do I soak in every moment of this sweet boy, who I have waited so long for, and wait to give him a sibling until after he is in school and my days and filled with waiting again? Or do I start trying now, because the veil of immediate success has been removed?
I'm sure many mommies have been in this spot. Anxious to grow the family, and yet wondering when would be the best time.
When I was pregnant with Sullivan, I used to fear having a rough day with my boy and someone coming along saying, "You asked for this". I most definitely did. I wanted it more than I have ever wanted something in my life. Even on his rough days, I can't look into his face and not completely melt. However, did that mean I had all my ducks in a row? Absolutely not. Is space and time and money tight already? Most definitely. When I think of starting the journey to a second child the numbers just don't add up. Where will we put all the extra stuff? Sullivan is already capitalizing on most of the space we have. What about the budget? Where will we afford even more for another? What about time? My goodness, where would I get the time? I'm still rocking Sully to sleep most naps and barely getting a chance to pee during the day as is! Clearly a second child isn't in the picture right now... right?
I now fear pursuing treatments or adoption for #2 and yet again getting the "You asked for this" snide comments. Sometimes I still ache that the decision can't be made for me and an "opps" would appear in our lives. However, a baby must be planned for us and there just is no right answer when it comes to timeline I have found.
I still haven't had AF since our IVF-induced AF in July 2012, and I wonder when the best time to seek medical help in having AF return.
For now we are trying to eat healthy, love on our boy, train the dogs, organize the house, enjoy our free time, and be content in being a family of three (/five). It's easier than it sounds. We still have our rough days, but nothing that ever makes us think we are finished growing our family.
Thanks for being patient in being a blog reader (if you're still out there!). My family and I are transitioning and trying to figure out just exactly where ARE we now?! I hope you continue to read along for the journey, whatever (whenever) it may be.
Love to you!
When Walter and I were TTC we were THAT couple. The couple that people talked about, mostly behind our backs, either good or bad. We got the hushed stares of strangers and the comments about how we were "too young" and "not giving it enough time". We didn't know anyone our age who had done IVF and we felt pretty lost. I spent a lot of time google-ing and reading blogs and studies. I wished so badly to be able to go and get coffee with someone who had "gone before me", but there was no one around to fill those shoes.
There are times I think of how sad and scary that sounds, and I am so proud we made it through... but there are also times I am so very thankful to have known no one. I had no one to compare embryo grades with; I had no one to tell me what I should expect; I had so much confidence. The first round I was so ignorant to the cruel world of IVF. I thought, "We are young, and we are doing IVF... we most definitely will get pregnant this first try!" But then I didn't. And this world came shattering around me. I wondered if anything would ever work for us. All hope and ignorance was lost.
Going into the second round was almost the opposite. I was so sure we were doing this second round as a failsafe. I was going through this round, betting myself I would come out on the other side to look at Walter and say, "See?! I TOLD you so!" when another round had failed. But it didn't.
Since our IVF rounds I have met so so SO many amazing women who have also endured the IVF waters. This community has accepted me and we encourage each other to keep trying, and to never give up. Some of us have had our miracle babies, and some of us are still waiting. Keep trying! Never give up!
Now I have this blessing of a baby boy in my home, and time has just been FLYING by! Next week he'll already be nine months old! I cannot tell you what joy this boy has brought me! Oftentimes I could still, without warning, break into happy tears as I did just a few nights ago when we took our sweet Sullivan to see Sesame Street LIVE. It's silly, but this is what I have been dreaming of! Not Sesame Street, but the "mundane", "everyday" life of being a mother. I think to myself, maybe if I hadn't experienced infertility I would moan about taking him to such a show. The kids are loud and packing him up is such a chore. Instead, I cried. Cried to see his face light up. Cried to hold him close and be known to the world as his Mommy.
And now I wonder... could I share this joy, this love, with another baby?
Do I soak in every moment of this sweet boy, who I have waited so long for, and wait to give him a sibling until after he is in school and my days and filled with waiting again? Or do I start trying now, because the veil of immediate success has been removed?
I'm sure many mommies have been in this spot. Anxious to grow the family, and yet wondering when would be the best time.
When I was pregnant with Sullivan, I used to fear having a rough day with my boy and someone coming along saying, "You asked for this". I most definitely did. I wanted it more than I have ever wanted something in my life. Even on his rough days, I can't look into his face and not completely melt. However, did that mean I had all my ducks in a row? Absolutely not. Is space and time and money tight already? Most definitely. When I think of starting the journey to a second child the numbers just don't add up. Where will we put all the extra stuff? Sullivan is already capitalizing on most of the space we have. What about the budget? Where will we afford even more for another? What about time? My goodness, where would I get the time? I'm still rocking Sully to sleep most naps and barely getting a chance to pee during the day as is! Clearly a second child isn't in the picture right now... right?
I now fear pursuing treatments or adoption for #2 and yet again getting the "You asked for this" snide comments. Sometimes I still ache that the decision can't be made for me and an "opps" would appear in our lives. However, a baby must be planned for us and there just is no right answer when it comes to timeline I have found.
I still haven't had AF since our IVF-induced AF in July 2012, and I wonder when the best time to seek medical help in having AF return.
For now we are trying to eat healthy, love on our boy, train the dogs, organize the house, enjoy our free time, and be content in being a family of three (/five). It's easier than it sounds. We still have our rough days, but nothing that ever makes us think we are finished growing our family.
Thanks for being patient in being a blog reader (if you're still out there!). My family and I are transitioning and trying to figure out just exactly where ARE we now?! I hope you continue to read along for the journey, whatever (whenever) it may be.
Love to you!
(Sully is now 38 weeks at the time of blog)
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