Yesterday I was reading the paper online(does anyone get the real one anymore?), and I noticed an article about happiness in my city. So I read through it. To be honest, I agreed with a lot of the different theories from different experts in regards to what we need to be doing to be happier-i.e. have purpose in life, challenge yourself.
But there was one expert in particular I did not agree with. To sum up, he basically did a study where he monetized happiness in our life, like falling in love. Then he proceeded to say that the happiness of holding your baby for the first time, right after they are born can be equated to the happiness of someone handing you a basket of $4,000. And then he said that his study shows that people who have children only have a brief spike of happiness in the year after they are born, and then after that the happiness goes away.
I was shocked. This man was so clearly wrong. I mean, what, as soon as your baby turns one, you look at him and think to yourself, "Yep, you no longer make me happy." That's insane! Not to mention the whole $4,000 thing. I have been given larger sums of money(i.e. wedding presents), and while I was very happy to be receiving it, it in no way even slightly compares to when my son was born. That happiness was indescribable. And it's true. To people who haven't had kids, when I try to tell them about it, I can tell they don't understand the full extent.
I just can't help thinking that this man must not have had children. And to be honest, he must not have fallen in love either. Because those things you cannot monetize, you just can't. Love like that literally has no price to me. Nothing can compare to it-they are different, yet equally strong loves like no other. Clark makes me happy every day, multiple times a day. Even on days when he screams for no reason, or throws up all over me three seconds before we are due to leave the house, I love him so much. I thought of this especially today, when he woke up this morning. I walked in to get him, and there he was in his crib, babbling to himself. When he saw me, he gave me the biggest grin. I wouldn't even trade $4,000 for one of his smiles, that's how happy he makes me. Now, for one of his poopy diapers, that's a deal I'm willing to make...
Monday, November 29, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Baby Talk
Does anyone else remember when they were 16 and horrified by their mother's reaction to babies? I used to cringe, then go home and give my mother a lecture on how embarrassing she was, and didn't she realize that no one else in the world talked like that to babies? I would also throw in a comment on how if she ever did it again I would have to die of mortification.
Now I have the realization that I may have turned into my mom. Not completely, mind you. I refuse to admit that, and will hit anyone who says differently. But I have turned into the dreaded baby talker. I do talk to Clark normally, say, for example, if he's playing on his mat and I'm cleaning around him, I'll tell him all about what I'm doing in a normal voice, if not slightly sing-songish. But I find quite often, when he's being incredibly cute I talk in a slight baby voice. Yes, I know, I'm probably stunting his speech or whatever, but I can't help it. He is too cute!
It's funny how even through to the end of my pregnancy, I thought I would never turn into one of "those people"(always said with a snort of derision). And yet, here I am. I am a baby-talker, and I am not ashamed!! But I'm not blind, either. I've began noticing the horrified looks from people if I do it in front of them. Not family, mind you, but always single people with no kids, and no close family with small children. They look at me first like I'm a crazy person, then secondly like they are scared/feel sorry for the weirdo mother. I think it especially freaks those out that are the same age, or older than I am. They totally give me the look that I used to give to my mom! Funny how these things come back to bite you later in life. I see why nothing I said ever made my mom stop though. It's too addicting. Especially when it's your own baby. So I just ignore it for now. When they have babies of their own, they will understand, and luckily for them, they will have me to join in with them so they don't feel like a complete idiot in front of everyone else.
Now I have the realization that I may have turned into my mom. Not completely, mind you. I refuse to admit that, and will hit anyone who says differently. But I have turned into the dreaded baby talker. I do talk to Clark normally, say, for example, if he's playing on his mat and I'm cleaning around him, I'll tell him all about what I'm doing in a normal voice, if not slightly sing-songish. But I find quite often, when he's being incredibly cute I talk in a slight baby voice. Yes, I know, I'm probably stunting his speech or whatever, but I can't help it. He is too cute!
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| Try to not talk baby-talk to this cute little nerd. |
Breastfeeding woes
Lucky for me, it's growth spurt week in our household. Unlucky for me, I have mastitis during it. I mean, really, what are the chances? It seems very unlikely considering I feel like I'm feeding him nonstop day and night. But somehow I ended up with it anyway. It's on the same side as last time too. It's funny, but it was obvious from day one that when it comes to eating, Clark clearly prefers the left side to my right. So the right one is always the engorged one, and the infected one, in some cases. I wonder why he prefers one to the other, I mean, it's not like the milk is better or something(though I'm sure it is when the other one is infected. Talk about gross!).
It's during times like this(growth spurt, mastitis, or even just a bad day), that I start to think about the wonders of formula. Don't worry, I know all about the benefits of breastfeeding, and I understand that it is so much better for him, not to mention cheaper for us, but I like to daydream about not having my child gnawing at me, and screaming at me when I don't have enough milk.
If I had been alone raising this child, I would have given up long ago, I really would have. Breastfeeding is HARD. If anyone says differently, then they have obviously forgotten what it's like your first time. When my son was born, he had a lot of bruising, swelling and cuts all over his head from the very harsh forceps delivery. On top of that, I was induced 2 weeks early because of hypertension, so he wasn't very pleased at being yanked out of his cozy home when he wasn't ready. He would not breastfeed. I tried and tried, and tried. I would attempt to do it while he screamed for 45 minutes every feeding. He'd be crying, I'd be crying, and I wanted to give up. The hospital made me attempt to feed him, then feed him formula, then use the hospital pump for 20 minutes to encourage my milk. It was exhausting.
After 1 week, I told my husband, no more. We are just doing formula. But he was so persistent.
"Just one more week!", he would say.
So I would go another week. It took 3 1/2 weeks, a gazillion trips to see a lactation consultant, me losing my temper daily, and extreme patience from my husband, but my child now is almost solely breastfed. We do have formula on hand for times when we have no pumped and are going out or leaving him with someone, but in his regular day-to-day life, he only breastfeeds. Those first weeks felt like an eternity, and seemed pointless, but now looking back I realize my husband was right. Even though this still is so hard, it is totally worth it. Clark loves breastfeeding. If I would let him stay on there sucking even after he was done, he would. He doesn't like bottles in the slightest, even though that was what we used for the first 4 weeks. Anytime I try to bottle feed him, he pulls off after a little bit and buries his face in my chest, rooting. He has been known to latch on to a mouthful of shirt and look up at me puzzled. Then he cries a bit, and eventually settles into the bottle, with his eyebrows all puckered together, and refuses to look at me, as if saying, "If you won't breastfeed me, I won't pay any attention to you." Then as soon as I pull him off to burp him, right back into my chest his little head goes. Which makes it awkward when your in the middle of a mall, and you have formula latch marks all over your shirt. It draws the eye to a place I don't want it drawn.
Breastfeeding sure has it's drawbacks, though. I mean, I am always the one to feed the baby. It's not exactly like my husband can do it for me. The infections aren't fun either, that's for sure. And the waking up in the middle of the night, soaked, because your child decided to randomly sleep longer than he normally does, sucks too. That's when the formula thoughts start to worm their way back into my mind.
Imagine him always sleeping through the night(which he's done when he's gotten formula close to bedtime before). Imagine shirts fitting correctly again. Imagine making my husband get up in the middle of the night instead of me! Imagine no more infections! No more starving just an hour after eating, and feeling weird about getting more food when there are other people around("Where does it all go?" I can tell they are wondering.)
But yesterday reminded me of the good parts again. I was feeding Clark, and was only about 5 minutes into eating when he pulled off and just stared at me. So I lifted him up and burped him, thinking he had gas. No burps, so I tried putting him back on. He latched briefly and then pulled off, looking at me. He just stared at me, smiling once in a while, with the cutest little look on his face, and then re-latched himself about 5 minutes later. He ate a bit, and then did it again. He did that over and over for the whole feeding. My husband even came over to watch. He would just not stop staring at me. And you could tell that he was thinking, "That's my Mommy, and I love her." And that bond, and those cute moments with him, is what reminded me of why I will keep breastfeeding. That time, and that bond created with my son, makes it completely worth it to me. I am so glad that I get the privilege of doing it.
It's during times like this(growth spurt, mastitis, or even just a bad day), that I start to think about the wonders of formula. Don't worry, I know all about the benefits of breastfeeding, and I understand that it is so much better for him, not to mention cheaper for us, but I like to daydream about not having my child gnawing at me, and screaming at me when I don't have enough milk.
If I had been alone raising this child, I would have given up long ago, I really would have. Breastfeeding is HARD. If anyone says differently, then they have obviously forgotten what it's like your first time. When my son was born, he had a lot of bruising, swelling and cuts all over his head from the very harsh forceps delivery. On top of that, I was induced 2 weeks early because of hypertension, so he wasn't very pleased at being yanked out of his cozy home when he wasn't ready. He would not breastfeed. I tried and tried, and tried. I would attempt to do it while he screamed for 45 minutes every feeding. He'd be crying, I'd be crying, and I wanted to give up. The hospital made me attempt to feed him, then feed him formula, then use the hospital pump for 20 minutes to encourage my milk. It was exhausting.
After 1 week, I told my husband, no more. We are just doing formula. But he was so persistent.
"Just one more week!", he would say.
So I would go another week. It took 3 1/2 weeks, a gazillion trips to see a lactation consultant, me losing my temper daily, and extreme patience from my husband, but my child now is almost solely breastfed. We do have formula on hand for times when we have no pumped and are going out or leaving him with someone, but in his regular day-to-day life, he only breastfeeds. Those first weeks felt like an eternity, and seemed pointless, but now looking back I realize my husband was right. Even though this still is so hard, it is totally worth it. Clark loves breastfeeding. If I would let him stay on there sucking even after he was done, he would. He doesn't like bottles in the slightest, even though that was what we used for the first 4 weeks. Anytime I try to bottle feed him, he pulls off after a little bit and buries his face in my chest, rooting. He has been known to latch on to a mouthful of shirt and look up at me puzzled. Then he cries a bit, and eventually settles into the bottle, with his eyebrows all puckered together, and refuses to look at me, as if saying, "If you won't breastfeed me, I won't pay any attention to you." Then as soon as I pull him off to burp him, right back into my chest his little head goes. Which makes it awkward when your in the middle of a mall, and you have formula latch marks all over your shirt. It draws the eye to a place I don't want it drawn.
Breastfeeding sure has it's drawbacks, though. I mean, I am always the one to feed the baby. It's not exactly like my husband can do it for me. The infections aren't fun either, that's for sure. And the waking up in the middle of the night, soaked, because your child decided to randomly sleep longer than he normally does, sucks too. That's when the formula thoughts start to worm their way back into my mind.
Imagine him always sleeping through the night(which he's done when he's gotten formula close to bedtime before). Imagine shirts fitting correctly again. Imagine making my husband get up in the middle of the night instead of me! Imagine no more infections! No more starving just an hour after eating, and feeling weird about getting more food when there are other people around("Where does it all go?" I can tell they are wondering.)
But yesterday reminded me of the good parts again. I was feeding Clark, and was only about 5 minutes into eating when he pulled off and just stared at me. So I lifted him up and burped him, thinking he had gas. No burps, so I tried putting him back on. He latched briefly and then pulled off, looking at me. He just stared at me, smiling once in a while, with the cutest little look on his face, and then re-latched himself about 5 minutes later. He ate a bit, and then did it again. He did that over and over for the whole feeding. My husband even came over to watch. He would just not stop staring at me. And you could tell that he was thinking, "That's my Mommy, and I love her." And that bond, and those cute moments with him, is what reminded me of why I will keep breastfeeding. That time, and that bond created with my son, makes it completely worth it to me. I am so glad that I get the privilege of doing it.
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| "Thanks for the food, Mommy!" |
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sleeping like a baby
I used to use that saying all the time in regular conversation before I actually had my baby. I even had all these ideas when I was pregnant. I remember even saying to my husband, "It's a BABY! How hard can it be to get it to go to sleep or even stay asleep?" Clearly I was delusional, and feel the need to apologize to all moms right now. You do not know sleep deprivation until you have a baby.
But I also have to say, I'm pretty sure no quite explained to me the extent of the sleepless nights that were in front of me when I was pregnant. The first night in the hospital was a HUGE shock. I just kept telling myself that it was because it was the hospital and it would magically get better as soon as we were home. My husband kept encouraging this thought process as well-but mostly because the hospital we were in did not allow the fathers to stay overnight, so he was actually getting a full 8 hours every night. What a shock we were in for when we got home. Between the no sleep, hormone craziness, and the horrific first weeks of breastfeeding, I thought I would literally expire where I sat.
So I've decided to come clean. As a new mom, all I have to say to those expecting, or those hoping to be expecting sometime soon-you will not sleep. Not for at least 6 weeks. Especially if you are breastfeeding. I know they always say, sleep during the day when your baby sleeps. What they fail to mention is how short that sleep is, if you can get it at all. My baby was born interested in everything, and hated sleeping. And that, unfortunately, never changed. I'll give you an idea of the first 4-6 weeks of life with a newborn. Or at least what my experience was:
Feed baby 1 hour 15 minutes\
Burp and change baby: 15 minutes
Pump(I had trouble with milk supply): 20-30 minutes
Rock baby to sleep: 10 minutes
Rock baby again when he wakes up as soon as he's in his crib: 10 minutes
Baby sleeps: 20 minutes
By the time I got into bed and closed my eyes, he was awake. Then it all started again, an endless cycle of exhaustion and crying(on both of our parts...) And I am not exaggerating, believe me. If it had not been for my husband's constant support and encouragement, I would not have been able to do it, that's for sure.
My son is three months old now, and has started sleeping for 7 hours at a time at night. It's amazing. I really never thought that this day would come. So today when I thought about how much sleep I get now, and how little I got before, I thought to myself that I owe it to other new moms to make sure they know that it sucks. It really, really sucks the first weeks. But it gets so much better after the second month. Which I know can seem like an eternity, but at least you know there's light at the tunnel. Because I know for me, that tunnel seemed never-ending.
Although I won't even begin on the regression that happens with every growth spurt and vaccination. I shudder even thinking of them. That's for another post, I think. If I type about that now, I'll end up having nightmares. :)
But I also have to say, I'm pretty sure no quite explained to me the extent of the sleepless nights that were in front of me when I was pregnant. The first night in the hospital was a HUGE shock. I just kept telling myself that it was because it was the hospital and it would magically get better as soon as we were home. My husband kept encouraging this thought process as well-but mostly because the hospital we were in did not allow the fathers to stay overnight, so he was actually getting a full 8 hours every night. What a shock we were in for when we got home. Between the no sleep, hormone craziness, and the horrific first weeks of breastfeeding, I thought I would literally expire where I sat.
So I've decided to come clean. As a new mom, all I have to say to those expecting, or those hoping to be expecting sometime soon-you will not sleep. Not for at least 6 weeks. Especially if you are breastfeeding. I know they always say, sleep during the day when your baby sleeps. What they fail to mention is how short that sleep is, if you can get it at all. My baby was born interested in everything, and hated sleeping. And that, unfortunately, never changed. I'll give you an idea of the first 4-6 weeks of life with a newborn. Or at least what my experience was:
Feed baby 1 hour 15 minutes\
Burp and change baby: 15 minutes
Pump(I had trouble with milk supply): 20-30 minutes
Rock baby to sleep: 10 minutes
Rock baby again when he wakes up as soon as he's in his crib: 10 minutes
Baby sleeps: 20 minutes
By the time I got into bed and closed my eyes, he was awake. Then it all started again, an endless cycle of exhaustion and crying(on both of our parts...) And I am not exaggerating, believe me. If it had not been for my husband's constant support and encouragement, I would not have been able to do it, that's for sure.
My son is three months old now, and has started sleeping for 7 hours at a time at night. It's amazing. I really never thought that this day would come. So today when I thought about how much sleep I get now, and how little I got before, I thought to myself that I owe it to other new moms to make sure they know that it sucks. It really, really sucks the first weeks. But it gets so much better after the second month. Which I know can seem like an eternity, but at least you know there's light at the tunnel. Because I know for me, that tunnel seemed never-ending.
Although I won't even begin on the regression that happens with every growth spurt and vaccination. I shudder even thinking of them. That's for another post, I think. If I type about that now, I'll end up having nightmares. :)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Momma's Boy
When Clark was first born, Daddy was the first one to hold him. It had been a very long delivery, and ended up with an extremely rough forceps delivery, which left me with, and I quote, "Too many stitches. You don't want to know how many." So, when they pulled our squirmy little guy out, my husband got him first, and got to hold him for probably 1/2 an hour. I eventually got him in recovery, but only for 2 minutes, because my body was going through some weird shock/exhaustion thing where I shook so badly my teeth rattled-unfortunately, this was not conducive for holding a tiny newborn.
Then, afterward, I was so sleepy, I fell asleep being wheeled to my postpartum room, and slept for hours. In the meantime, Clark was left in the care of his Daddy. They both loved it, and an amazing bond was created. But for some reason, right around six weeks old, Clark decided he would no longer fall asleep with, or on his Daddy. He wouldn't even let his Daddy rock him! The screaming was incessant. So we've been dealing with it by me just having to do it every day and it was taking a huge toll on me, which my husband noticed. So yesterday, after a frustrating night for me the day before my husband decided enough was enough. So when it was Clark's turn to nap, he started rocking him instead of me.
I'm pretty sure our neighbors thought we were murdering him. He has NEVER screamed like that-not in a growth spurt, not after vaccinations, not even when being born! My husband actually put a toque on, to save his ears. The tears, sobs, screeches, and clawing his father's chest to pieces continued for over an hour and a half. Finally, he cried himself hungry. So I fed him, and he gratefully conked out, clutching handfuls of my skin in both fists, like a lifeline.
Today, after my husband got home from work, Clark was due for a nap. I was hoping to just do it and save everyone's hearing, but my husband insisted. The death glare he was giving his father as he tried rocking him was priceless, and terrifying, but miraculously, he only whimpered once or twice and then was out like a
light. I couldn't believe it had worked. And he slept his entire nap time. You'd think we would all be happy, right? Wrong. There sat one sleeping baby, one overjoyed Daddy, and one brokenhearted Mommy. Apparently I secretly loved being the only one he went to. Kind of awkward to admit after complaining about it for a month and a half. So now the question is, was it actually Clark being clingy to me this whole time, or just me being clingy to him? I decided it's best for all if that question isn't answered, I don't think I want to know if I've turned into one of those obsessive moms. So for now, we'll say it was Clark. Anyway, he's too young to defend himself, right?
Then, afterward, I was so sleepy, I fell asleep being wheeled to my postpartum room, and slept for hours. In the meantime, Clark was left in the care of his Daddy. They both loved it, and an amazing bond was created. But for some reason, right around six weeks old, Clark decided he would no longer fall asleep with, or on his Daddy. He wouldn't even let his Daddy rock him! The screaming was incessant. So we've been dealing with it by me just having to do it every day and it was taking a huge toll on me, which my husband noticed. So yesterday, after a frustrating night for me the day before my husband decided enough was enough. So when it was Clark's turn to nap, he started rocking him instead of me.
I'm pretty sure our neighbors thought we were murdering him. He has NEVER screamed like that-not in a growth spurt, not after vaccinations, not even when being born! My husband actually put a toque on, to save his ears. The tears, sobs, screeches, and clawing his father's chest to pieces continued for over an hour and a half. Finally, he cried himself hungry. So I fed him, and he gratefully conked out, clutching handfuls of my skin in both fists, like a lifeline.
Today, after my husband got home from work, Clark was due for a nap. I was hoping to just do it and save everyone's hearing, but my husband insisted. The death glare he was giving his father as he tried rocking him was priceless, and terrifying, but miraculously, he only whimpered once or twice and then was out like a
light. I couldn't believe it had worked. And he slept his entire nap time. You'd think we would all be happy, right? Wrong. There sat one sleeping baby, one overjoyed Daddy, and one brokenhearted Mommy. Apparently I secretly loved being the only one he went to. Kind of awkward to admit after complaining about it for a month and a half. So now the question is, was it actually Clark being clingy to me this whole time, or just me being clingy to him? I decided it's best for all if that question isn't answered, I don't think I want to know if I've turned into one of those obsessive moms. So for now, we'll say it was Clark. Anyway, he's too young to defend himself, right?
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Mall Kiosks
A friend of ours recently started a new job at a really nice salon in a mall close to where we live. She needed hair models to demonstrate her talent, so I volunteered myself-and then my husband. She had said she had almost no male hair models, and felt awkward asking, and to be honest, I really can't blame her. I mean, who wants to go up to someone else's husband and say, "Want to come to my work for 2 hours so I can massage your head and talk awkwardly?"
So anyway, I volunteered my husband. All I had to say was, "It's free!" and he was on board. With my husband, the key to his heart is through his wallet-a full wallet.
I decided ahead of time that Clark and I would go to the mall with him and wander around just the two of us, relaxed and happy. What I had not taken into consideration was the salespeople at kiosks. Are they in their right mind? Seriously!
Why would they bother approaching a mom with a tiny baby in a stroller? There are so many reasons not to.
Reason #1- I would like to meet a regular family that has spare money to waste on frivolous purchases.
Reason #2- I would like to meet a mom with a newborn that has time to USE this stuff. A 14-step face cleansing program? Ha! Try me in 18 years! If I brush my teeth it's a miracle!
Reason #3- Do you not realize that if the stroller reaches a speed of less than 20 km per hour my child will start shrieking and WILL NEVER STOP?
Yet every kiosk tried to stop me. By the end of it I just started laughing as they approached and kept walking. Hopefully they learn, and approach only those childless-or at least the ones with a full-time nanny! :)
So anyway, I volunteered my husband. All I had to say was, "It's free!" and he was on board. With my husband, the key to his heart is through his wallet-a full wallet.
I decided ahead of time that Clark and I would go to the mall with him and wander around just the two of us, relaxed and happy. What I had not taken into consideration was the salespeople at kiosks. Are they in their right mind? Seriously!
Why would they bother approaching a mom with a tiny baby in a stroller? There are so many reasons not to.
Reason #1- I would like to meet a regular family that has spare money to waste on frivolous purchases.
Reason #2- I would like to meet a mom with a newborn that has time to USE this stuff. A 14-step face cleansing program? Ha! Try me in 18 years! If I brush my teeth it's a miracle!
Reason #3- Do you not realize that if the stroller reaches a speed of less than 20 km per hour my child will start shrieking and WILL NEVER STOP?
Yet every kiosk tried to stop me. By the end of it I just started laughing as they approached and kept walking. Hopefully they learn, and approach only those childless-or at least the ones with a full-time nanny! :)
Thursday, November 11, 2010
The good baby/bad baby people
Maybe this is just something that I've noticed.
Anyone who spends two minutes or less with Clark seems to always say the same thing - "What a good baby! You are so lucky!" they always exclaim. Or if they see him smile, or sleeping. Then they go on for what seems like hours about lucky we are and how we need to cherish these sleep-deprived moments. I'm pretty sure I contemplate murder multiple times a week because of people saying that. I know we're lucky, don't get me wrong, I love my baby more than anything. It just feels like there is no sympathy-or even like they think you are exaggerating your plight. ("45 minutes sleep for the whole night? Come on, what did you actually get?"-that was 2 weeks after my son was born. Was the collection of bags under my eyed and the screaming baby in my arms not convincing enough?)
And then there are those other people. The ones who see your baby crying, or worse, screeching and then they stare at you in horror and say, "What a BAD baby! I feel do terrible for you! How are you dealing?"
Um, excuse me, but you are basically calling this tiny human that I carried for 9 months, created out of NOTHING and am currently doing the very best to raise even though I feel(and look) like a zombie, a demon! How is that not insulting? It's ok for us to say that after 6 days of no sleep, but they've only spent 2 minutes with him!
Where are the in-between people? I often wonder if the only reasonable people are hiding at home with their own young kids. My best advice to everyone else, and this is coming from three whole months of experience, listen and nod sympathetically when a new mom complains, and the rest of the time you tell them their baby is the cutest on earth. Trust me, this is the only way to stay off a new mom's hit list-it's only been 3 months and mine is 50 people long... :)
Anyone who spends two minutes or less with Clark seems to always say the same thing - "What a good baby! You are so lucky!" they always exclaim. Or if they see him smile, or sleeping. Then they go on for what seems like hours about lucky we are and how we need to cherish these sleep-deprived moments. I'm pretty sure I contemplate murder multiple times a week because of people saying that. I know we're lucky, don't get me wrong, I love my baby more than anything. It just feels like there is no sympathy-or even like they think you are exaggerating your plight. ("45 minutes sleep for the whole night? Come on, what did you actually get?"-that was 2 weeks after my son was born. Was the collection of bags under my eyed and the screaming baby in my arms not convincing enough?)
And then there are those other people. The ones who see your baby crying, or worse, screeching and then they stare at you in horror and say, "What a BAD baby! I feel do terrible for you! How are you dealing?"
Um, excuse me, but you are basically calling this tiny human that I carried for 9 months, created out of NOTHING and am currently doing the very best to raise even though I feel(and look) like a zombie, a demon! How is that not insulting? It's ok for us to say that after 6 days of no sleep, but they've only spent 2 minutes with him!
Where are the in-between people? I often wonder if the only reasonable people are hiding at home with their own young kids. My best advice to everyone else, and this is coming from three whole months of experience, listen and nod sympathetically when a new mom complains, and the rest of the time you tell them their baby is the cutest on earth. Trust me, this is the only way to stay off a new mom's hit list-it's only been 3 months and mine is 50 people long... :)
First Post- Expectations vs. Realities
I'd say expect constant updates, but we'll just see how it goes. I always have the best intentions of doing things on time, but it never seems to end up happening.
I think that's part of being a new mom-before the baby, you were full expectations and ideas. About what kind of parent you would be, what your child would be like, and about how your life would change. Idealized, that's for sure. And no one really prepares you for the reality and how far apart your idea and reality would be.
Getting things done was definitely one of the places that I was way off on. Expectation-I had all these daydreams of a baby sleeping peacefully for hours in a crib while I flitted around the house, getting everything magically done before my husband gets home from work. Reality-still sitting in the same chair as when my husband left, still not showered, absolutely nothing accomplished. Or at least it seems to me, as the new mom, that nothing was accomplished. But I mean, the baby has been taken care of(to the best of anyones exhausted ability), and he's happy.
And, I mean, when it comes to doing things, nothing is better for a new mom to know than the fact that she has a happy, healthy baby. Isn't that really the best accomplishment?
I think that's part of being a new mom-before the baby, you were full expectations and ideas. About what kind of parent you would be, what your child would be like, and about how your life would change. Idealized, that's for sure. And no one really prepares you for the reality and how far apart your idea and reality would be.
Getting things done was definitely one of the places that I was way off on. Expectation-I had all these daydreams of a baby sleeping peacefully for hours in a crib while I flitted around the house, getting everything magically done before my husband gets home from work. Reality-still sitting in the same chair as when my husband left, still not showered, absolutely nothing accomplished. Or at least it seems to me, as the new mom, that nothing was accomplished. But I mean, the baby has been taken care of(to the best of anyones exhausted ability), and he's happy.
And, I mean, when it comes to doing things, nothing is better for a new mom to know than the fact that she has a happy, healthy baby. Isn't that really the best accomplishment?
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