Ahh. My baby just turned 6 months old. Before we do the whole, “Time slow down!” and, “Stay little forever!” thing, I have to push pause. This is about me.
What?! About you? You have a baby now – how can you be so selfish?
Chill, ya’ll. I’m allowed to have this.
Continue reading “Celebrating the Mother in Motherhood”
I am good at breastfeeding. It is easy for me. It is my favorite part about motherhood. I have become a die hard lactivist. August 1st starts World Breastfeeding Week and I am pumped (pun intended). Everywhere I look I see articles and research and pics – oh my! Breastfeeding fascinates me.
When I was pregnant, breastfeeding was the topic I was most anxious about. We were so prepared for the birth of our girl but despite a breastfeeding class, I did not feel even slightly ready once baby got here. I’d seen my sister nurse a few times but that was pretty much the extent of my knowledge. Continue reading “Bottles, Breasts, and Babies”
Birth is an intimate thing – if not THE most intimate thing. It’s the same body parts, same noises, same hormones used for sex. Your life will be forever changed by the process and the result of this chain of events.
When I got pregnant, I knew some of these things. I assumed I’d be spread eagle on a bed surrounded by very few people. I assumed I’d get an epidural and pop out a perfect, little babe. I assumed I’d listen to the doctors and nurses when they told me what to do. There would be sweating and yelling and water breaking everywhere (oh, the movies).
I never thought about a different kind of birth. It wasn’t a topic of conversation for us. But as my pregnancy progressed and my body continued to change, it forced me to think about this intimate, life changing moment. Continue reading “3 Strangers Who Changed My Birth”
This week has been rough. To start, I returned to work after maternity leave (a reason enough to write off a whole week as being rough). In addition, my child gave a whole new definition to the term “blow out” at the doctor’s office (If you follow me on Instagram, you saw the war zone; my pants, the table, the doctor – no one was safe). We were there in the first place for her excessive, volcanic acid reflux. So if you’re keeping track at home, that is both ends expelling bodily fluids rapidly and violently while I try to leave her for long periods of time. Like I said, it’s been a rough week.
Father’s Day is two days away and other than this and this, I haven’t gotten an actual present. The old me would have had this bought months ago, carefully planned and primed in advance.
Ah, the old me. The one who smelled good. The one who went for runs and took naps. The one who could sit on the toilet without a child in her lap. The old me, who last year during this exact week, found out she was pregnant. Continue reading “Some Weeks Reek”
My husband gave me a massage for Mother’s Day and I finally got it this week. I left the baby alone with him for the first time ever. I think it took me the first 55 minutes of my massage to relax.
You see, my husband had never changed a diaper when we had our girl. We are both the youngest in our families and although we have nine nieces and nephews, we are far from being described as kid people. Continue reading “A Better Father’s Day Gift”
You know how it goes: get pregnant, get advice. Bad advice, outdated advice, weird advice.
You MUST know how to swaddle well. My baby acts like you are wrapping her in thorns. Never been swaddled a day in her life.
Make sure you read to her for an hour a day. Her whole library takes approximately 8 minutes to read. Now what? Continue reading “The Only Advice to Give Moms-to-Be”
Whether you are on your knees tying little shoes, on your knees vomiting from morning sickness, or on your knees praying for lives yet to exist, we have always been moms. We were made with this untapped love, with natural instincts. We were made to mother these children.
I’m trying to pinpoint when the change went from – “We’re having a baby!” to “She’s having a blowout!” The day I became a mom.
I’m not talking about when you push a watermelon out of your hoo-ha. Sure, something inside of you changes when you hold that squishy ball of smell-good. But things had been changing for a while. Continue reading “The Day You Become a Mom”