From the category archives:

Tips for New Moms

What to Expect The First Day Home from the Hospital

 

Wake up to breakfast in bed provided by the hospital cafeteria.

 

Have the lovely nurses in the nursery wheel in your precious baby and spend the morning bonding.

 

Talk to the doctor, who tells you the great news: You’re being discharged today!

 

Panic.

 

Realize you left the car seat in the car.

 

Panic.

 

Send hubby to get said car seat while you are alone with the baby.

 

Panic.

 

Realize you don’t know how to work the car seat.

 

Panic.

 

Finally get the baby in the car seat only to realize that it looks like you just placed a mouse in a cage fit for an elephant.

 

Panic.

 

Say goodbye to the lovely hospital staff and thank them for all they have done.

 

Panic.

 

Get wheeled down to the car while realizing that this is it: no more pushing a button to get help when you need it.

 

Panic.

 

Get yourself, the hubby and the baby in the car.

 

Panic.

 

Drive five miles an hour on the car ride home.

 

Panic.

 

Get home and feel like a strange man in a strange land.

 

Panic.

 

Get unpacked and wonder what to do next.

 

Panic.

 

The baby cries.

 

Panic.

 

Try to figure out what the baby wants.

 

Panic.

 

Figure out what the baby wanted only to have it start crying again.

 

Panic.

 

Try to figure out what the baby wants.

 

Panic.

 

Figure out what the baby wanted only to have it start crying again.

 

Panic.

 

Try to figure out what the baby wants.

 

Panic.

 

Figure out what the baby wanted only to have it start crying again.

 

Panic.

 

Realize that you have been home for eight hours and haven’t eaten or used the bathroom.

 

Panic/get faint.

 

Decide it is time for everyone to try to go to bed and put the baby down for the night.

 

Panic.

 

Obsessively watch the baby sleep and analyze every twitch and breath.

 

Panic.

 

Baby wakes up crying.

 

Panic.

 

Feed baby and put it back to sleep.

 

Panic.

 

Obsessively watch the baby sleep and analyze every twitch and breath.

 

Panic.

Baby wakes up crying.

 

Panic.

 

Feed baby and put it back to sleep.

 

Panic.

 

Obsessively watch the baby sleep and analyze every twitch and breath.

 

Panic.

 

Baby wakes up crying.

 

Panic.

 

Feed baby and put it back to sleep.

 

Panic.

 

Obsessively watch the baby sleep and analyze every twitch and breath.

 

Panic.

 

Baby wakes up crying.

 

Panic.

 

Decide that it’s finally time to call it night and… start your day.

 

You made it! One day down, 18 more years to go.

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The First Child

1. Celebrating 

The first child: When we were expecting our first child, people celebrated me as though no woman had ever had a baby before. I was showered with gifts and attention by family, friends, family friends and friends of family friends’ dogs. Upon arrival of the baby, visitors crowded the waiting room and lined up around the block. You have never seen so many homemade lasagnas in your life.

The next one: Umm…where did everybody go?

 

2. Documentation

Your first childPhoto documentation began before my pregnant belly was even visible and continued weekly (more like daily) throughout the first two years of our daughter’s life on the outside.

The next oneAny pictures that captured my second pregnancy were inadvertent until near the end, when we decided we had better take a few shots on purpose just to prove it happened.

 

3. Illness

The first child: The baby was sniffle free her whole first year of life.

The next oneDue to the infectiousness of her older sibling, now in preschool, the baby has had a runny nose since the week after her birth. She can see us coming with the snot sucker from across the room and it takes all three of us to hold her down to use it.

 

4. Time Management

The first child: There was no time to do anything but care for the baby. Outings were carefully timed so as not to anger the gods of Nap. I could not commit to any plans without a caveat regarding the likelihood of my cancelling them, because one day’s schedule could not predict the next.

The next oneI cannot conceive how I ever felt busy caring for only one child and though I continue to respect naps, it would be impossible for me to make the world stop spinning in order to always accommodate the baby at the exact moment she is ready. (By ‘the world’ I mean my preschooler, by ‘spinning’ I mean spinning.)

 

5. Nursing

The first child: I had great big hopes that my breasts would rebound post nursing.

The next oneAll hope is lost. But I’m still pulling for pelvic realignment.

 

6. Attentiveness

The first child: We rushed to respond to night time crying for the baby’s sake.

The next oneWe rush to respond to night time crying so that she won’t wake up her sister.

 

7. Cleanliness

The first childThe baby got a complete wardrobe change upon receiving the tiniest drop of spit up.

The next oneWipe slobber and spit up off with other parts of the clothes she is wearing, the clothes I am wearing, rub it off (or rather in) with my thumb, dangle her so she launches it onto the ground. In short, use whatever method of cleanup is most handy and carry on. Spit up and slobber are nothing compared to what her sister uses to dirty clothes. Exponential laundry increase is one of the great shocks of having a second child.

 

8. Development

The first childWe encouraged motor skill and ambulatory development. Praised all accomplishments.

The next oneHave strapped to the floor with duct tape knowing what difficulties baby mobility brings. I try every day but still cannot physically move in two opposing directions at once. Once the baby starts running around, I will have to decide which child to sacrifice in order to chase after the other.

 

9. Safety

The first childAny baby proofing done was to protect from the dangers of the house.

The next oneHow could anyone think a house is dangerous compared to a three year old? This baby climbs the stairs by herself on the way to her daily sibling self defense class.

 

10. Closeness

The first childI wanted to hold her all the time, she was my first. Her sleeping on me was bliss and I had the leisure to doze at random with her at any point during the day.

The next oneI want to hold her all the time, she is my last. Her sleeping on me is rare because her sister does not recognize my right to be still.

 

11. Productivity

The first childOn the weekends the family ran errands together. It seemed we had all the time in the world and every trip was novel. There were two of us and one of her…nothing could impede our progress.

The next oneDivide and conquer. This took a few trips to figure out. Inevitably, one of us would have to make an emergent potty run into a store with the toddler, while the other sat in the parked car nursing the newborn. This left no one to accomplish the errand. (To ease your suspense, it was me in the car.) As I write this I realize that during the week, I run the errands by myself with both girls. Hey wait a minute, that’s not fair…

 

12. Organization

The first childThe house became increasingly scattered with baby gear and toys. I was excited when she grew out of all those clunky baby gadgets such as the activity mat, exersaucer and high chair, until I realized bigger kids have bigger stuff.

The next oneMinimal adult possessions remain. However many attractive receptacles I can find, they are not enough.

 

13. Benefits

The first childHad the benefit of all my attention. Good thing because I had no idea what I was doing.

The next oneHas the benefit of my experience. Good thing because I am busy explaining to her sister why she doesn’t get all of the attention anymore.

 

14. Life Impact

The first childThe shock of parenthood was tremendous and the realization that I couldn’t turn back was scary like I swallowed a boulder and jumped off a bridge.

The next oneTimes two.

 

15. Lovability

The first childBrought the most powerful of all love into my life for the first time.

The next oneBrought the most powerful of all love into my life for the first time, again. (My apologies if the sentiment makes you throw up in your mouth, that is just the way it is.)

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10 Things You Should Know About Having a Baby

 

When I was pregnant with my first child, ten years and a million sleepless nights ago, I went about pregnancy the same way I had gone about my college courses: by reading everything I could get my hands on, studying notes, attending classes, and joining message boards. I was always a great student — and definitely an overachiever — and now I intended to get an A-plus in Motherhood 101.

 

I diligently attended my birthing classes, toured the hospital, and dragged my husband to the breastfeeding prep class. I washed all the bodysuits and the gowns in hypoallergenic, dye- and scent-free detergent. I practiced my kegels.

 

Then, I had a baby.

 

And, like postpartum women everywhere, I found myself in my bed, body fluids oozing from far and near, stitches in places I didn’t know I had, my breasts growing at an exponential and alarming rate, my hormones crashing down around me, and all I could think was, “Nobody told me about this. There was no chapter that said anything about this!”

 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

 

The answer is simple: because I didn’t want to hear it. The truth is, when I was pregnant, I only wanted to talk about pregnancy and childbirth and strollers and Diaper Genies. No one told me that birth was only, literally, the beginning. I can’t blame a universal motherhood conspiracy, though; I would not have listened.

 

Here are ten things I wish someone had told me — and I wish that I had heard:

 

1. The first time you see or hold your baby, you might not hear angel choirs in the distance. You might have a doctor still halfway up your body stitching you, or a nurse pumping your stomach to help you deliver your placenta. You might be in a lot of pain. You might be more exhausted than you have ever been in your whole life. It’s okay if you don’t hear the angels. There will be time to have those magic moments with your new baby.

 

2. After you deliver, your first trip to the bathroom will be an event. Don’t be embarrassed to let someone help you there; do not risk passing out alone. Be prepared that this is only the beginning of your loss of dignity as a mother. After all, you will have years ahead of you during which you will not be able to visit the potty alone. Might as well start now.

 

3. Breastfeeding is hard. It takes a little while to get used to the “holds” and find the one that works best for you and your likely hysterically screaming newborn. Whether you are doing it right or not, breastfeeding hurts at the beginning. Sometimes a lot. My nipples cracked and bled with my first baby. Engorgement was scary and extremely uncomfortable. My breasts radiated heat and actually pulsed. But my lactation consultant was my knight in lanolin-coated shining armor, and after the first two weeks, breastfeeding became more comfortable and much more manageable. Also: if breastfeeding is not for you or if it just doesn’t work out, that is — REALLY — fine. In the end, the way you feed your baby is inconsequential compared to the way you love your baby.

 

4. On your fourth day postpartum, you will most likely cry. A lot. This is usually when your hormones crash. This is the day when you will be certain that your life is over, that your partner is a jerk, and that you cannot do anything right. You’ll cry just because. You’re allowed. (BUT — if you continue to cry and continue to feel down, seek help pronto.)

 

5. If at all possible, do not put on real clothes for at least two weeks. Once you get out of your pajamas, people start expecting you to be competent. Wear clean, fresh pajamas if you must, but stay in our pajamas unless you want to cook and clean and entertain visitors along with the bleeding, oozing, leaking, and caring for another human life parts of the first two weeks.

 

6. Babies don’t always sleep. This is not the result of Something You Did Because You Are Already a Failure as a Parent. These same babies will, eventually, sleep. Promise. You cannot ruin them for life. Other parents will tell you their babies are sleeping. I promise you they are a) stretching the truth, b) defining “sleep” differently than you do, c) still due for sleep disruptions, or d) flat-out lying. You will face these same alternate versions of parental realities again when you talk to other parents about potty-training and reading further down the road. Seriously, babies are as different as adults. Some sleep better than others. But they all struggle sometimes. Your child will sleep sooner or later.

 

7. Don’t let anyone make you think you don’t know your own baby best, and don’t let anyone make you think you’re not doing a good job. There is no one right way to parent and there are many ways to be a good parent. Related: You don’t have to do what your mom, mother-in-law, or grandmother did. Listen to your gut.

 

8. Find support — neighborhood groups, breastfeeding groups, hospital new mom groups, whatever you can find. Networking with other new mothers can be a crucial lifeline, even if you go back to work after your maternity leave. Having a newborn is like going off to college for the first time — you need to find other newbie freshmen so you can all be clueless together.

 

9. Don’t be a martyr. Kids don’t visit martyrs for the holidays when they grow up. Hire someone or beg your friends to come and hold the baby while you shower and nap sometimes. It’s not easy to adjust to being a mom. One day, you are a person just taking care of yourself; the next day, you can’t button your shirt straight. Don’t be afraid to say, “This is hard,” or “this sucks!” It is hard and it does suck sometimes. That doesn’t mean you aren’t 110% grateful for the blessing of a baby or completely in love with your child.

 

10. Take lots of pictures (and get in them), because you won’t remember much of this later. Trust me.

 

More than anything, I wish someone had told me this: the first year of your first time being a mother is like nothing you will ever experience again, no matter how many children you have. Every day is a miracle. Every day is a journey. Every day might seem like it lasts 100 hours. There are lights at the end of every tunnel, but you won’t know it. You will never again feel like you are getting an A-plus. You will be forever changed. At some point, you will realize that “nobody ever told you” because some things you have to experience for yourself; there’s no book or class or even little old lady in the grocery store who can tell you what to really expect when you’re expecting.

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When we came home from our soft cocoon of the hospital with a brand-new daughter, I was terrified. Not of the usual stuff – I knew she’d be able to breathe all night on her own, that she was eating, I was okay with the knowledge that I’d surely fuck something up – but I kept worrying that I might suddenly stop loving her. Because I’m normal.

 

This is to say that when I dispense advice it’s not from some platform of how cool, calm and collected I was in the months after she was born, but to let you know that I too was as sticky and messy as the tarry diapers she produced at such an alarming rate.

 

I don’t have a lot of friends who are still in their baby-having years. I mean sure, they could biologically go on having babies but mostly they’ve moved onto the big bliss of getting ever closer to the end of childcare expenses. Still I have a few, and for those who are expecting their blessed bundles, here are some things I found personally helpful and that your mother-in-law might completely disagree with…

 

Things Every New Mom Should Know

 

1. Please take yourself and/or your baby out of the house. If you have a healthy, full-term baby, the outside is a great place to be. I know, it can be scary taking that perfectly pure little body into the big, wide world, but it’s scarier being holed up in one room watching reality shows about porcupine hunters, staring at a sleeping or crying infant and waiting for something to happen.

 

2. Yes! You can still shower! This is why God invented bouncy seats and transparent shower curtains. It might be a short shower, maybe the water won’t even have time to warm up, but it’s really okay if your wee one cries a little while you rinse those last soap bubbles out of your hair.

 

3. Yes! You can still go out to eat! You might be tired as hell, and you might have to plan it around the hour your baby isn’t colicky, but these are the halcyon days when your child is totally immobile.

 

4. Using a bottle doesn’t mean you love your baby less. It might mean your tits hurt, or you don’t want to nurse in front of the cable guy, or that you’d like your partner to get their ass up at 3 a.m. for a change.

 

5. Pay attention, because this is important: YOU DO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING. There’s enough information telling you how to do it better, how not to do it, how to do it like Gwyneth (this one involves kale I think) but no one else is raising your baby.

 

Then again you may want to ignore all of this – I totally let my kid nap in her Boppy.

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Kay Jewelers

Let’s face it… television commercials are not exactly known for their realistic depictions of everyday life. In fact, in the image-conscious world of advertising, authenticity often seems like little more than a pesky afterthought.

 

In terms of unrealistic advertising, jewelry brands are among the worst offenders as they strive to portray every holiday and major life event through an impractically romantic lens – the most egregious example being the perpetually saccharine Kay Jewelers. But there is one ad, in particular, in which Kay takes the sweetly idealistic shtick a bit too far.

 

 

In this stunning lack of marketing prowess, a glowing young mother sits wrapped in a plushy white robe, serenely rocking her newborn daughter following a 2am feeding on Christmas morning. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the shadows; why, it’s her doting husband, having risen in the middle of the night for no other reason than to light the Christmas tree and present her with a gift – a watch. How nice. Because there is nothing a new mother needs more than yet another reminder that she is constantly on the clock.

 

This commercial made its ill-timed debut during the 2009 holiday season when I, myself, was in the throes of new motherhood. In fact, I often saw it while nursing my own newborn. And it made me irrationally angry, as I considered it to be blatantly false advertising.

 

Why? Well, let’s break it down…

 

According to Kay Jewelers: A new mother is the essence of maternal serenity as she happily rises for a 2am feeding with dewy skin and perfect hair, enveloping herself in a soft, plushy robe.

 

In Reality: When I (grudgingly) got up for 2am feedings, my skin was pale and gaunt; my vision marred by crusty eye boogers; and my hair was sticking out in every direction. I was hawt.

 

I also generally slept in the previous day’s clothes, which were often times the same clothes I’d worn the day before that - because at that particular juncture, my days and nights were fairly indistinguishable. So, there was no plushy robe; only dirty yoga pants and nursing bras stained with milk and spit-up. In short, I was anything but the essence of maternal serenity.

 

According to Kay Jewelers: A new mother is content – even happy – to be up in the middle of the night, serenely rocking her sleeping baby.

 

In Reality: I will freely admit that I was not pleased to be up in the dead of night, when Zumba infomercials were the only thing to watch on television and I felt like the lone person in the entire freaking world who was awake. Furthermore, once I got my daughter down after an overnight feeding, I went straight back to bed, grateful for whatever sleep I could muster before my wee bottomless pit grew hungry again.

 

According to Kay Jewelers: Those first few weeks of new parenthood are so incredibly romantic, a husband will actually be moved to surprise his wife during an overnight feeding for the sole purpose of presenting her with a token of his undulating love and affection. And she, in her serene state, will no doubt react with glowing adoration at the gesture.

 

In Reality: Oh my God, there are so many things wrong with this scenario I don’t even know where to begin.

First, the early weeks – nay, months – of new parenthood are anything but romantic. Okay? Enough said.

Secondly, no sleep-deprived new father is going to willingly get up at 2am unless he’s been asked told to; the only possible exception being if he wanted to use that time – when his wife is otherwise occupied with the baby – to go searching for his testicles, which have no doubt been safely tucked away in an undisclosed location. And only when he gives up the search – having deduced that his manhood is gone for good – might he then take that time to start bestowing her with gifts.

Otherwise, she’s on her own. In the dead of night. When the Zumba infomercials are the only thing to watch on television and she feels like the lone person in the entire freaking world who is awake.

 

Oh, but I’m not done yet…

 

Let’s just say, for shits and giggles, that my husband had gotten up with me for a 2am feeding on Christmas morning. He didn’t – not that I’m bitter or anything – but let’s just say that he had.

 

In that scenario, I would have handed our sated daughter off to him and been back in bed sound asleep before he even had time to light the tree, much less hand me a gift. Bitchy? Perhaps. But also a hell of a lot more realistic than Kay Jewelers’ deluded sense of new motherhood.

 

And therein lays my irrational anger with this commercial, as well as the moronic and presumably childless marketing team involved with its production. And the proverbial cherry on top of this hot mess of a sundae is the fact that the entire thing ends with the dopey new dad asking his wife if their weeks-old daughter will remember her first Christmas.

 

Allow me to answer that…

 

No. Not even a little bit.

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