I can’t believe you’re really leaving for good. Sure, you’ve been showing signs that it was time to go. For the last few months we’ve been in limbo, doing that on-again, off-again thing. I’ve been trying to hold on to you, my son’s nap, but deep down I knew that our relationship couldn’t last forever.
You and I have had a good thing going for these last four years. Since the beginning, you’ve been there for me. Sure, you haven’t always been the most reliable partner. Sometimes you were glorious and lasted 2+ hours, while other times your presence was frustratingly brief. Regardless, you showed up day after day, and always made things a little brighter. I’m afraid I’ve never really taken the time to tell you how much you mean to me, so this message is really overdue.
In those early days, when my son would not let Read more ›
Throughout my first pregnancy, I continued to avoid this item on my pre-baby to-do list. I had a million other things to worry about and it was the last thing I felt like dealing with it. But I eventually bit the bullet and looked into this birth plan thing.
A quick look at an online template had me instantly overwhelmed. Take, for example, the question about whether (among other options) I’d like labor augmentation: first attempted by natural methods such as nipple stimulation, performed by membrane stripping, or performed with prostglandin gel.
I didn’t even know what the hell prostglandin gel was, much less Read more ›
I typically have two or three blog post ideas kicking around in my head at any given time. So I’ve had a couple in mind for the last week, but after the election results I just couldn’t bring myself to write a light-hearted piece about the trials of parenting. Trump’s win is weighing too heavily on my mind. Thoughts about it have literally been keeping me up at night and making me sick to my stomach. I NEVER intended to bring politics into my blog, but as someone who is committed to being open, honest and raw about my feelings and my personal experience, I felt compelled to write this.
When I think about the four years of Trump’s presidency, over which my son will grow from a 3 year-old to a 7 year-old, and my baby will come close to turning 4, I feel overcome with anxiety. I understand that there will be presidents throughout their lifetime that I don’t agree with ideologically, but the example that Trump has set seems to go against Read more ›
My kids are cute (I’m talking legitimate Gerber-baby level cuteness). They are smart and curious and they crack me up. But they are the *actual worst* at sleeping. My 3 year-old didn’t consistently sleep through the night until he was 1 ½ years old. For months, the only way to get him to nap was by taking him for walks – I can’t even tell you how many miles were clocked on his stroller in attempts to get this child to sleep. My 7-month-old is the queen of the 20-minute nap. That in itself is an improvement; for months she would only nap on my body. Working from home meant standing with my laptop on the kitchen counter while my daughter slept in the baby carrier on my chest. Allegedly, after 6 months there is no nutritional need for babies to eat during the night, but my little one definitely did not get that memo. It’s basically an all-night buffet around here.
Getting my sleep in 1-3 hour increments for months now has completely melted my brain. I was trying to pay for my haircut last weekend, Read more ›
Ever since my daughter was born, my status as a sort of stay-at-home/sort of working mom (part-time from home) has been leaning way more toward SAHM territory. It’s a struggle to work even half the number of hours I did when we only had one kid. My rational mind knows that taking care of two kids under four is plenty of work in and of itself, but part of me feels vaguely guilty that my financial contributions to the family are so minimal at this point. If I’m not doing a whole lot of working, it feels like I need to step it up in the homemaker department. Trust me, I never aspired to be the cliché 50’s housewife vacuuming the house in pearls, ready with my husband’s robe, slippers and a stiff drink the moment he walks in the door. But somehow I do find myself feeling inadequate Read more ›