I have never really been fashionable. I don't think I'm "What Not To Wear" worthy, I just have a pretty basic style. I like to think of it as a "classic" style. I'll pick up styles that I feel comfortable with and ignore those (jeggings) that I don't.
Like most new moms, I was eager to get back into my regular clothes after the limited wardrobe of pregnancy, especially late pregnancy. I was aware that it might take awhile to fit in those clothes, but I didn't anticipate many of the other caveats of mom-wardrobing.
Mom jeans: Yes, I made fun of them before but I totally GET them now. The first time I wore my low-rise jeans and reached up I realized that I had just showed the world my stretchmarks. Furthermore, I spend a lot more time on the ground than I used to. Butt cracks are only cute on infants and toddlers.
Shirts: The number one priority here is easy access. But from the bottom, because at a certain age the little one will start tugging at the top, certain that everyone else wants to see your breasts just as much as he does. After you've had a gaggle of residents staring under the sheet over your legs, you don't really have that much modesty left. That thin shred is quickly depleted by a small person who gets hungry no matter who is around. Still, you probably have a bit more than your child thinks you should. That's right, at least for the first few years, your child won't think twice about exposing you to whoever is around. That means clothing needs to be tug-proof. You might think that a button-down front would be ideal, but chances are your new (and sadly, temporary) fuller figure makes them an indecent option as well.
Dresses: Not an option. Unless you can find a style that gives you front or top access, I don't recommend pulling your skirt up to your shoulders when it's time to nurse.
Hair: In the first few weeks, a ponytail is simply a matter of survival. If your hair is clean when you put it back you have had a good day. Just when you think you have things under control enough to do something with it, your little one begins to find the temptation of those swinging locks to be too much and gives them regular tugs. Back to the ponytail once again.
Accessories: Earrings, necklaces, etc. are too much of a temptation for little hands. Like a letter man jacket or your sorority pin, the white spot (spit-up, snot, etc) on your shoulder is your new accessory indicating membership in the mom club.
Shoes: If you had any trouble walking in them before, try doing it with a wiggle-monster perched on one hip.
Add to these concerns the need for durability and washable-ness and the fact that it seems like your size changes faster than your baby's, and it's amazing moms ever get dressed at all.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
The mom-ents that keep us going
I love being a mom. I do. I love my son more than I ever thought possible. Still, there are definitely times...
Anyone who says they love every minute of being a mother is a) lying, or b) has a sad, sad life. Don't get me wrong, I still love my son when I'm cleaning up vomit, walking in circles trying to calm him down, or pulling him out from behind the TV for the 78th time today, but there are definitely other things I would rather be doing.
I think it's completely normal to miss your pre-child life sometimes. Early on Saturdays and anytime you're awake between 11pm and 6am are probably common times.
Luckily, there are the mom-ents (haha) to remind you why you do what you do.
I've been thinking a lot about holding on to these fleeting moments lately. B's breastfeeding days are numbered, and though it's time to be done, I'm going to miss the closeness. When B was a baby, milk fixed everything. He would fall asleep curled up against me, and as long as I was holding him, he was happy. For 4 months he slept in the bassinet next to me, where I could hear him breathing and know that he was okay. I still miss that.
The quest for independence can be frustrating for both parent and child, but I burst with pride at every little accomplishment. I know it's silly, but the first time he clapped his hands I actually cried.
Right now, my favorite time of day is when, after Ray gives him his bath, he comes toddling down the hall in just his diaper, slapping his thrust-out belly and laughing, and gives me a hug. I don't want him to walk better. I don't want him to be potty-trained. I want him to be this sweet little boy forever.
These are the moments that make everything else worth it.
Anyone who says they love every minute of being a mother is a) lying, or b) has a sad, sad life. Don't get me wrong, I still love my son when I'm cleaning up vomit, walking in circles trying to calm him down, or pulling him out from behind the TV for the 78th time today, but there are definitely other things I would rather be doing.
I think it's completely normal to miss your pre-child life sometimes. Early on Saturdays and anytime you're awake between 11pm and 6am are probably common times.
Luckily, there are the mom-ents (haha) to remind you why you do what you do.
I've been thinking a lot about holding on to these fleeting moments lately. B's breastfeeding days are numbered, and though it's time to be done, I'm going to miss the closeness. When B was a baby, milk fixed everything. He would fall asleep curled up against me, and as long as I was holding him, he was happy. For 4 months he slept in the bassinet next to me, where I could hear him breathing and know that he was okay. I still miss that.
The quest for independence can be frustrating for both parent and child, but I burst with pride at every little accomplishment. I know it's silly, but the first time he clapped his hands I actually cried.
Right now, my favorite time of day is when, after Ray gives him his bath, he comes toddling down the hall in just his diaper, slapping his thrust-out belly and laughing, and gives me a hug. I don't want him to walk better. I don't want him to be potty-trained. I want him to be this sweet little boy forever.
These are the moments that make everything else worth it.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Mommy guilt, part 1 of 1 million...
I meant to be a better mother, I really did. The reason I wanted to stay home was so that I could provide all of these fun and educational opportunities for my son. Day trips, crafts, games, etc.
But the reality is that babies and toddlers don't do that well with this type of structured activity. That, and, even on the two nap a day schedule, I often feel like I'm swimming upstream just to keep the house clean, prepare nutritious meals, and keep my little one safe and entertained.
This mommy-guilt hit me the other day as I was addressing the store-bought valentines I got for the other kids in Benjamin's music class. The teacher sent an e-mail giving the children's names, should we wish to bring valentines but assuring us we were under no obligation to do so. Honestly, the only reason they got the card stock boxed cards is that I was at the grocery store on the day after Valentine's Day and there was a rack of half-priced cards that jogged my memory. So I perused the picked over candy, decided it was all inappropriate for a class of babies and toddlers, and held up the boxes of Winnie the Pooh and Snoopy valentines and bought the one that B grabbed (Winnie the Pooh). I addressed, assembled, and remembered to take them to class. All big accomplishments for me! I did scold myself, though, because I fully intended to be the kind of mom who made homemade valentines.
So I was feeling a little guilty, but also exhausted as usual. I started mentally railing against all of those blogger moms who spend their days not only doing adorable crafts, but then taking pictures and posting instructions for the rest of us. Who has time for that? I convinced myself that their children were being neglected by their craftiness. There is nothing like the blogosphere to induce mommy-guilt.
Then we went to class yesterday, and all of the other children brought valentines. Some were homemade. All contained a treat (except ours. Just a pathetic little piece of paper and "a sticker for you!") I did console myself that most of the treats were choking hazards (so, consoled myself by eating my son's candy. Hey, it's all about safety). Some parents were on top of things enough to get little bags of goldfish and teddy grahams. Things they no longer had on the day after the holiday when I finally managed to remember to get something.
I'm going to get it together, I swear. I am going to rock Easter. You just wait for the photos and step-by-step instructions! B will be almost 16 months by then, totally old enough to dye eggs, mix candy, and ice cupcakes, right?
But the reality is that babies and toddlers don't do that well with this type of structured activity. That, and, even on the two nap a day schedule, I often feel like I'm swimming upstream just to keep the house clean, prepare nutritious meals, and keep my little one safe and entertained.
This mommy-guilt hit me the other day as I was addressing the store-bought valentines I got for the other kids in Benjamin's music class. The teacher sent an e-mail giving the children's names, should we wish to bring valentines but assuring us we were under no obligation to do so. Honestly, the only reason they got the card stock boxed cards is that I was at the grocery store on the day after Valentine's Day and there was a rack of half-priced cards that jogged my memory. So I perused the picked over candy, decided it was all inappropriate for a class of babies and toddlers, and held up the boxes of Winnie the Pooh and Snoopy valentines and bought the one that B grabbed (Winnie the Pooh). I addressed, assembled, and remembered to take them to class. All big accomplishments for me! I did scold myself, though, because I fully intended to be the kind of mom who made homemade valentines.
So I was feeling a little guilty, but also exhausted as usual. I started mentally railing against all of those blogger moms who spend their days not only doing adorable crafts, but then taking pictures and posting instructions for the rest of us. Who has time for that? I convinced myself that their children were being neglected by their craftiness. There is nothing like the blogosphere to induce mommy-guilt.
Then we went to class yesterday, and all of the other children brought valentines. Some were homemade. All contained a treat (except ours. Just a pathetic little piece of paper and "a sticker for you!") I did console myself that most of the treats were choking hazards (so, consoled myself by eating my son's candy. Hey, it's all about safety). Some parents were on top of things enough to get little bags of goldfish and teddy grahams. Things they no longer had on the day after the holiday when I finally managed to remember to get something.
I'm going to get it together, I swear. I am going to rock Easter. You just wait for the photos and step-by-step instructions! B will be almost 16 months by then, totally old enough to dye eggs, mix candy, and ice cupcakes, right?
Monday, February 13, 2012
Sick kids
Last week my little guy had his first bout of the stomach flu.
I felt so bad for him, because I know the flu is miserable. I imagine it's worse when you have no idea what is happening to you or why.
I've also never done well with vomit. The smell makes me gag. And with a kid who can't aim, there are lots of places for the smell to linger until you figure out that you're able to clean them too. Plus, when you're home alone, you need to care for the child first and leave the mess until later, when it is hopefully not TOO dried in. Yuck.
So stomach flu isn't fun but...even though I felt bad for him, and lived in fear of the next event, it was kind of nice. He was snuggly. He's a 14-month old boy; he NEVER sits still in my lap. When he let me read stories for 30 minutes straight, I knew he was definitely sick. And the next day, I made a big pile of books next to the rocking chair and was a little disappointed when he was feeling well enough to play.
Does this make me a horrible mother, or is it something you've experienced too?
I felt so bad for him, because I know the flu is miserable. I imagine it's worse when you have no idea what is happening to you or why.
I've also never done well with vomit. The smell makes me gag. And with a kid who can't aim, there are lots of places for the smell to linger until you figure out that you're able to clean them too. Plus, when you're home alone, you need to care for the child first and leave the mess until later, when it is hopefully not TOO dried in. Yuck.
So stomach flu isn't fun but...even though I felt bad for him, and lived in fear of the next event, it was kind of nice. He was snuggly. He's a 14-month old boy; he NEVER sits still in my lap. When he let me read stories for 30 minutes straight, I knew he was definitely sick. And the next day, I made a big pile of books next to the rocking chair and was a little disappointed when he was feeling well enough to play.
Does this make me a horrible mother, or is it something you've experienced too?
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Everybody has one
You know how the saying goes. An opinion, that is. It seems like if people don't have one about anything else, they do have one about parenting.
I admit that I have them too. In a quest to set a better example for my son, I've resolved to be less judge-y, and keep them to myself. But that's a topic for another day.
I do certainly believe that there are things you can do wrong as a parent. Not using a car seat, or using it incorrectly, comes to mind. As I've said before, if I have a parenting style it's to follow the recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatrics. So that's adhering to SCIENTIFIC recommendations from EXPERTS in the field. Common sense, really. Still, people will tell you that the AAP's recommendations are wrong.
Members of the older generation are good at this. Somehow the fact that anything has changed in the last 30 years is unfathomable to them. "Aw, my kids slept face down on a pillow, ate lead paint, and didn't wear seatbelts, and they turned out just fine!" It's more shocking to me how many of my peers seem to think Grandma knows better than the pediatrician, but they're out there too.
Aside from following the AAP's recommendations on safety issues, much of parenting is preference. I know there are many things that I thought I would handle differently until I was in the situation, and then I had to do what worked best for us. There are areas in which I followed others' advice and wish that I hadn't.
I definitely sought out the advice of other moms, and I still do. I've also tried to give mom advice. The best advice, though, always starts with "what worked for me..." What worked for me may not work for you. You may have different views on rooming in/ sleep training/ family planning, etc. and that's okay. As long as you are keeping your child safe and doing the best that you can you are not doing it "wrong" no matter what your neighbor/ mother-in-law/ lady at the grocery store tells you.
I admit that I have them too. In a quest to set a better example for my son, I've resolved to be less judge-y, and keep them to myself. But that's a topic for another day.
I do certainly believe that there are things you can do wrong as a parent. Not using a car seat, or using it incorrectly, comes to mind. As I've said before, if I have a parenting style it's to follow the recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatrics. So that's adhering to SCIENTIFIC recommendations from EXPERTS in the field. Common sense, really. Still, people will tell you that the AAP's recommendations are wrong.
Members of the older generation are good at this. Somehow the fact that anything has changed in the last 30 years is unfathomable to them. "Aw, my kids slept face down on a pillow, ate lead paint, and didn't wear seatbelts, and they turned out just fine!" It's more shocking to me how many of my peers seem to think Grandma knows better than the pediatrician, but they're out there too.
Aside from following the AAP's recommendations on safety issues, much of parenting is preference. I know there are many things that I thought I would handle differently until I was in the situation, and then I had to do what worked best for us. There are areas in which I followed others' advice and wish that I hadn't.
I definitely sought out the advice of other moms, and I still do. I've also tried to give mom advice. The best advice, though, always starts with "what worked for me..." What worked for me may not work for you. You may have different views on rooming in/ sleep training/ family planning, etc. and that's okay. As long as you are keeping your child safe and doing the best that you can you are not doing it "wrong" no matter what your neighbor/ mother-in-law/ lady at the grocery store tells you.
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