A fellow mommy recently shared this with me and I couldn't
keep it to myself. I also couldn't have said it better myself. It's hard not to
do so much research and reading when you're a new mom and have no idea what
you're doing. Michael is always telling me to get off the internet and stop
reading so much. I should be learning my own baby, not reading about others.
Every new mom must keep in mind that all babies are different. They are not
programmed to be just like everyone else; if they were they would come with
owner manuals. Luckily God had faith in us to become parents, and I trust in
Him too. We can do it, and we must continue to repeat that to ourselves. We are
going to make mistakes, and that's okay. We are all learning!
So thank you Girl of Cardigan for letting me share your
blog.
1. You are going to suck at this parenting gig and be
awesome at it at the same time, all the time.
You will be a different parent every morning to a child who will also be
different, sometimes changing in just hours, or minutes, or before your
eyes. There will be good days and bad
days, good minutes and bad minutes, good choices and not so good ones. You will do some things, probably a lot of
things, wrong. Be gentle with yourself,
because you are wildly loved and incredibly needed. You are climbing Mt. Everest with basically
zero conditioning – expect to be kind of terrible at it for awhile. You are beautiful. We are for you.
2. Post-partum bodies are squashy and wobbly and dimpled and
stretched and foreign and embarrassing and difficult and painful and gorgeously
imperfect, and they tend to stay that way for quite awhile. You made a human. Now make your peace. Eat good food. Walk around when you’re well enough. Listen
to the people who tell you you’re beautiful.
Take them at their word. Remember where your worth comes from.
3. Your baby is not like the other babies. Your baby is the only one of herself who has
ever been, and you and your partner are the only experts on her. Your baby will
not behave like the books say, won’t like what she’s supposed to like, won’t do
what she’s supposed to do when she’s supposed to do it, and that’s normal and
great and perfectly okay. The best thing
you can do is put down your literature and get to know your baby. What does she like? What makes her laugh? How does she best fall asleep? What does hungry sound like? The discovery of these things will serve you
so much more than any stranger’s care instructions ever will. You don’t have to make your life or your
family look like any particular model – you don’t have to follow the
rules. You just have to create a life
that works for you and fosters love and security and a whole lot of laughter. If that looks like 2am pancake parties, I’m
not going to tell on you. I might
actually admire you and be just a little bit jealous.
4. We have got to stop telling people that things should be
easy and painless. We live in a culture
that equates ease with value – the easier it is, the better it is, if it hurts
you, something is wrong. Reality check:
sometimes things that are hard and painful are also really, really good. Every once in a while as a parent, one of the
things that you thought would be really difficult turns out to be incredibly
easy and drama-free. This is called a
miracle, and though it might be somehow related to some book you read and the
alignment of the stars and a magic way you pat the soles of your baby’s feet
and the tea you drink on Thursdays, it’s still mostly a miracle, and the odds
of that same miracle happening to EVERY OTHER PARENT EVERYWHERE are pretty slim,
even with books and stars and tea and so much foot-patting. We get excited in our victories, and want to
share them, but it’s important to remember that we are all struggling with
different issues. One daddy’s easy is
some mama’s nightmare. And just because
your baby doesn’t sleep through the night at five weeks or eat with a fork by
her first birthday or cries a lot or your boobs get sore from breastfeeding
(even though her latch is perfect) – just because it isn’t EASY and PAINLESS –
it isn’t necessarily wrong. Sometimes
hard is okay, sometimes, often, it’s even good.
Hard is how we grow. And guess
what, kiddo – parenting is hard. Any
book that tells you otherwise deserves the big fat sticker of bullshit.
5. Speaking of bullshit, oh mylanta, the poop. They warn you. They tell you. And despite every warning, it is still
baffling and alarming and downright awe-inspiring how much of your next year is
going to be spent dealing with, assessing, smelling for, washing off,
evaluating, discussing, logging, and transporting poop. Get good and comfy with poop, friends. The poop cometh. For whom the poop
tolls. The hunt for poop-tober – you get
the idea.
6. The sooner you can figure out how to accept unwanted
advice gracefully, the easier your year is going to be. For whatever reason, people love to weigh in
on babies – everyone has an opinion, and everyone wants to share. I believe that most of this advice is pretty
well-intended – most of it falls into the “it worked for me and I am so happy
and I want to share my joy joy joy with you because you look very tired”
category, which is at least only mildly offensive and really very sincere.
Here’s the thing – you can stumble through this crazy first
12 months in defense mode, snapping witty comebacks at judgey old ladies or
know-it-all childless people, or you can decide to give everybody the benefit
of the doubt, smile and say thank you, and become very zen and confident about
knowing what’s best for your child and not giving one ounce of your abundance
of poop about what anyone else says.
If I were you, I’d aim for zen.
Nobody is out to get you.
Everyone wants you to succeed.
And screw them all anyway, because you are raising a child, and that is
awesome. Did your kid eat something
today? Is she relatively hygienically
sound? Smiles occasionally? You win all the things. You are awesome enough to absorb any and all
commentary, keep the bits you like, and toss the bits you don’t. How sweet of them to care.
7. Start stretching, because it’s time to get flexible. I’m not a big fan of general statements like
“All babies like swaddling” or “Co-sleeping is best for everybody,” but there
is one I can get behind – babies are really inconvenient.
Your schedule, your sleep, your stellar punctuality record,
your deadlines, your best shirts, your relationships – everything is about to
get messy and complicated. You have two
choices – become a weepinghungrytiredmess of doom, or swallow every ounce of
pride you have and become flexible. Ask
for help. Admit failure. Be late.
Stay in your pajamas. Ignore the
dishes. Let slide what can slide and
rejoice when you make it through with all your bare necessities intact. You are going to miss a few parties and a lot
of snoozes and probably many other important things, and it will be okay. It will be better than okay. It will be amazing.
Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be one of those parents who gets a
magic baby who responds to the methods in whatever book you read or is just
naturally benevolent and fits like a glove into your fabulous and organized
life. Again, this is called a
miracle. We love you and are happy for
you. Now please, shut up.
8. The most important thing to get for your baby is not a
Rock n’ Play, nor a good set of swaddling blankets, nor a high-end
stroller. The most important thing to
get for your baby is a village. Your
village will keep you afloat. They will
carry you when you are tired, feed you when you are starving, forgive you when
you are unkempt and hours late and a neglectful friend who can’t remember to
wear socks let alone whose birthday it is.
They will love your baby when you are too tired or frustrated to hold
her at the moment, because you are imperfect and human and have imperfect and
human failings. They will remind you who
you are when you start to think your whole life is only about poop. They will lift you up.
9. We have to lift each other up. Raising babies is the hardest thing many of
us have ever done. We can tear each
other to bits, criticize choices, and turn up noses, or we can love each other,
admire adorable babies, offer a hand, and celebrate victories. This is not a difficult choice, people. Nobody cares that your way is better. Everyone cares that your kid is gorgeous and
let’s chat over coffee and what have you been doing with your hair lately
because, girlfriend, you look fabulous.
Don’t be horrible. It isn’t really that hard.
10. Success is found in being willing to grow. Here’s the truth: you don’t know much of
anything. A year from now, after your
fantastic kid turns one, you won’t know much of anything still. Gather wisdom around you. Learn from your mistakes. Stay humble.
Stay open. When you know better,
do better. Be a better parent tomorrow
than you were today, always, everyday, as often as you can. Try things out and leave them behind
shamelessly if they don’t work out. Life
isn’t a contest or a game – it’s simply only beautifully life. Live the minutes
instead of scoring them. Love that
incredible baby.
