When I was pregnant with O, the one thing that people told me over and over again was "You're going to love parenthood.  It is so much fun."  Amidst all the declarations of fun, however, one woman looked at me and simply said "Parenthood is hard.  It's a lot of work."  And as she told me this, all I could think was "man, she's kind of a downer."

But when the baby finally arrived my feelings about this statement changed completely.  Rather than feeling that she was overly negative and really should have kept her comment to herself, what I felt was thankful.  I appreciated her honesty and I appreciated her willingness to speak up when it flew in the face of what everyone else was telling me.  Because I'll tell you this, for me at least, there were very few things "fun" about those first couple of weeks.  Lack of sleep?  So not fun.  Breastfeeding problems?  Also no fun.  Arguments with your husband at two in the morning?  Definitely not fun.

And so when I found myself at a baby shower this past weekend and I repeatedly heard the women around me telling the mother-to-be how much fun it was to have a baby and that she was just going to love every minute of it, I saw myself cringing in the corner and thinking about how a small dose of honesty is not a bad thing.  I appreciated someone telling me that it's normal not to feel joy every second.  It doesn't mean that you're less of a mom and it doesn't mean that you love your child any less.  It just means that sometimes the best things in life are hard...and require work...and exhaust you at times.  These things are not mutually exclusive and I wish new mothers (and fathers) were told this more often.

But amidst all my wishing that people were more honest, I have to say that I stayed silent.  When someone commented "Yeah, I don't understand why people feel compelled to say such negative things to pregnant women" and everyone agreed, I didn't say anything.  Instead I began to wonder whether I was just bitter and overly negative.  To be honest, I'm still wondering if I am...

Precious Naptime

Before I had a child I was totally annoyed by those people who said, "Oh, that time's not going to work for us.  That's naptime."

Now that I have a child, though, I totally get it.

Naptime is sacred time.  Naptime is precious time.  Not only because it is "me time," but because naps magically put my child in a better mood.  She may go to sleep a bit cranky, but she is all smiles and giggles when she wakes up.  Seriously, it's like magic.

Unfortunately this past weekend our naptime routine fell by the wayside.  And on Saturday afternoon we were left with one very cranky toddler who decided that all she needed was a little shut-eye while snuggling next to her pops.

And on Sunday morning we were left with a little one (who adamantly refuses to wear a shirt, by the way) who randomly fell asleep on our bedroom floor at 10 a.m.

And then on Sunday night we were left with a little one who was still awake at 9 p.m., literally jumping up and down in her crib, and all I could think was "this can't be good."

And then last night she woke up at 3 a.m. yelling "I want read books." 

I think it's time to turn back into one of those annoying people. 

The Phases of Parenting

O back in the day - Otherwise known as
Phase One

Over the past twenty months I've learned a couple of things about this whole parenthood thing (not a lot of things, mind you, just a couple).  One thing that I've learned is that parenting occurs in phases.

Perhaps you recognize some of them?

Phase 1 - Sleep Phase.  You're obsessed with sleep.  You want it.  You need it.  You read every book about it.  You try every technique you find on the internet.  The idea of a decent night's sleep rules your thoughts.  It's your everything.

Phase 2 - Safety Phase.  You're obsessed with trying to make sure that your now-mobile baby doesn't accidentally kill herself.  You put up the baby gate (and mostly remember to close it).  You install foam padding around your fireplace ledge.  There are plugs in your sockets and locks on your cabinets.  Friends and relatives come over to visit and can't figure out how to open anything.

Phase 3 - Spelling Phase.  Your child's language skills are developing at lightening speeds and in order to avoid any mishaps or tantrums you end up finishing each sentence with a cleverly spelled-out word.  "Do you know where the c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e is?"  "Do you think it's time for her to take a n-a-p?"  "I have to go to the s-t-o-r-e." 

We are currently knee-deep in Phase Three...which is kind of funny only because I am the world's worst speller and sadly there's no spell-check in everyday conversation.

The One Without The Picture (For Which You Can Thank Me Later)

It's no secret that parenthood is sometimes, well, a little disgusting.

Rectal thermometers?  Gross.

Cleaning up vomit?  Nasty.

Changing diapers?  Ughh.

And for us that last one is compounded by the fact that we use cloth diapers about fifty percent of the time. There are few things that I like less than transporting O's poo across the hallway to drop it in the toilet.  O, on the other hand, loves it.  She inevitably follows me into the bathroom saying "I see it.  I want see my poo"  and watches in absolute fascination as I dump it in the toilet and flush it away.

Yesterday she did just this and as I dumped it in the toilet she wisely observed "I see corn in it."

At that point I didn't know if I should be in awe of my child's awesome observational and verbal skills or absolutely disgusted that she just identified partially digested corn in her feces.

I tell you...this parenthood thing can be really confusing.

I'll Take My Rest Wherever I Can Get It

Photo by the lovely and talented Chara Michele

Yesterday morning I had a dentist appointment and as I laid back in the dentist chair with a piece of plastic propping my mouth open, gauze stuck in my cheek, and some high-pitched instrument drilling away at my tooth, all I could think was "man, if feels so good to lay down."