Don't blink

In the latest edition of mom digest, here's a newsflash: don't stress too much over some developmental milestones, because they will eventually arrive. (Thank you, Capt Obvious!)

A huge stressor for moms, at least for this one, is all the milestones and firsts that your baby is supposed to have in their first year or two of life. The parenting apps and blogs I read when my bug was born are chock full of information on both physical and cognitive development for babies in all months of life. Naturally, this means that if my baby wasn't doing what the app or blog said he should be doing at x months old, I would get worried. I would start ruminating over the possibility of a problem with him. Even if it felt silly to get all worked up over, I would still worry under the surface. For example, my baby didn't start pulling himself up until he was about 10 or 11 months; there's a kid in his class who is pulling himself up at 8 months. Another example: my baby didn't cut his teeth for at least 4 or 5 months after I started having posts about cutting teeth show up on my daily parenting app alerts. It seemed like my kid took his sweet time until he finally started sleeping through the night. Incidentally, I stopped sleeping through the night and wake up several times to check on him. Is that irony or insanity?

In this case, these are not life or death situations, just minor anxieties. But they feel huge at the time. Every little thing that's not textbook feels like a potential disaster, and all us moms want is for our kids to be healthy and normal in their development. So here's my life lesson takeaway so far that seems like common sense but still needs to be repeated for the anxious, paranoid moms like me: every kid is different. Every kid moves at their own pace. Pending any serious cognitive, behavioral or developmental delays, your kid is fine. He will cut those teeth when his gums are good and ready. He will crawl when he's feels like it. He will say "mama" when he's feeling sad and needy. He will say "dada" every other second of every day. He will walk when he feels confident enough to try. He will take a flying leap out of a bouncy chair when he sees the other kid in his class do it. He will start sleeping through the night when his rhythms regulate. He will get to whatever stage/level he's supposed to be at when he gets to it. 

It's challenging all the time for me to not compare my baby to others, in terms of his abilities and his development. It's a mindset I don't enjoy, and every time I'm able to step back and tell myself that it's useless to compare him to others, I do feel a little more convinced of how silly it is to do this. But in the meantime, I'll just keep writing down his milestones in his baby book and beam with pride and joy at the plethora of things my baby is learning to do every day. Seriously, don't blink. Progress and milestones happen in an instant.  

Fat mom

Any "The Office" fans out there remember the episode where Pam is pregnant for the second time and she's really hormonal and emotional and she has that mini meltdown where she's wailing about how she used to be pretty and skinny but "now I'm just a fat mom!" Yeah. That's me. I am such a fat mom right now.

I was warned by a friend who knows from experience: once you stop breastfeeding, the weight gain hits you like a fucking bullet right between the eyes....or in my case, the tummy. Yeah, as if the c-section scar didn't accentuate my mom gut enough, the absence of breastfeeding has now given me a full blown spare tire around my midsection. It's my own fault. I didn't listen. I was cocky and riding the high of being back to my pre-pregnancy weight so fast after giving birth (again, thank you, breastfeeding). I let myself fall under the spell of this delusion that I could eat whatever I wanted with no consequences because I had birthed a human and now I hardly had time to eat myself, and surely someone who is constantly feeling starved like I am isn't gaining a bunch of weight, right? WRONG. SO. WRONG. 

Ladies, take heed! If you're an old crone like me, and you're in a place in your life where it's more difficult to lose weight, exercise (because of all the sciatica) or just have healthy habits in general (because you're exhausted and love wine too much), start formulating your plan of action now, because once you stop producing that liquid gold for your baby, your ass will get fat. Quickly. It will sneak up on you and punch you in the face when you're distracted by wine or daycare or your baby's first cold or whatever the fuck else seems more important at the time than your vanity. 

"Back to life, back to reality..."

I'm at the end of my part-time work status, about to return to full-time and I have few thoughts to share:

-Part-time is WHERE IT'S AT. It doesn't get much better than this, especially if you're like me in that you need some time away from your kids and your house, but not too much time. It makes the week go by quicker and you have days built into your week where you can get daytime errands done, such as taking the dog to the vet or getting grocery shopping done while the sun is still out. 

-While I'm not looking forward to working a full 40-hour week, I am looking forward to having the full-time paycheck again. The pay cut I took was a little rough, especially since babies need about $45,000 worth of food/clothes/stuff a week. I admit I am a bit insecure about my meager paycheck anyway, and to have that cut in half was a real ball buster. I won't exactly be rolling in it, but I'll at least get back to where I originally was in terms of how much anxiety I experience in the days leading up to pay day. 

-Now that my son is in daycare, the alone time I can get on those two days a week is divine. I love my son, I love my husband, I love my pets. But I love my alone time. A lot. This isn't a newsflash for anyone with kids, but ever since my son was born, my time alone to do whatever I want has almost ceased to exist. If I don't have a baby in my arms, I'm holding his laundry basket. Or I'm getting his dinner ready. Or I'm bathing him. Or I'm rocking him to sleep. Or I'm wiping his nose. Or I'm cleaning his high chair. Or I'm picking up his toys. Or I'm making dinner for the adults. Or I'm doing my own laundry. Or I'm at the store buying more food. Or I'm emptying diaper pails. Or I'm taking him to the doctor. I think you get it...your time no longer belongs to you. It belongs to everyone and everything else. Would I change it? Nope. Well, maybe I'd hire an au pair if I could afford it. But it was a shell shock for me to learn and experience just how much brain power, energy, effort and doing for everyone but myself it would take with a baby. So to have any alone time to do anything, household obligations included, is a big win.

-Can I tell you a sick, twisted secret? Even though I'm a huge fan of alone time, I still miss my baby when he's at daycare. Probably a lot more than I should. But I can't help it. Everyone told me that this time goes by so fast, and he's only little and young once, and I should enjoy every moment. I'm determined to do just that.

-As a return to full time looms in front of me, I am exhausted just thinking about it. I no longer have those two "buffer" days during the week where I can catch up on sleep if I really need to. The thought of that makes me want to crawl into a hole and sleep for the next 17 years.

Moral of the story: if you're a new mom and you can pull off working part time, DO IT.