What I Learned in my Baby's 1st Year [guest post]
Lauren is not only a fellow blogger from Batman Martin, but a good friend. She was one of my "go-to" friends during pregnancy, and well, now after, she is still a "go to" friend! She's been a guester on here before in my "thing i like" category (we will get more of those later...sigh).
I always enjoy Lauren's wit in her writing so I am once again excited she agreed to share on her baby's first year. I quickly was schooled in month one about the learning curve, so I am excited Lauren agreed to once again wittily share her thoughts on her baby's first year! Thank you, Lauren.
I’m up for any almost any challenge…so I gladly told Caren that I would be happy to
share some lessons that I have learned since becoming a mom in August 2010.
What I learned during the first year…
I pride myself on being organized. In many ways, that sense of organization is like my
mothership of sorts. When I feel overwhelmed or sad or mad or like I need to control something
[who me?], I will organize. Sometimes, I find myself organizing things that don’t belong to me.
But, hello, it’s helpful.
In preparation for Wyatt, I read and read and attended any class that I could. I spent a large part
of pregnancy terrified. Not so much of the birth, but what exactly to do with my baby after he
arrived.
In the true spirit of organization, I have a list of lessons I’ve learned during Wyatt’s first year:
[1] You are allowed to use the words “my son/daughter/child” and people believe you. Granted,
the presence of a baby helps. But I found myself giggling whenever I would call to schedule an
appointment for “my son.” Like, did they need to see my proof or something? Maybe a license?
[2] Speaking of licenses, you don’t need one to parent a child. I was convinced there was a
manual somewhere. Or perhaps, some other organized soul created a list that was discretely
handed out as one headed home from the hospital. I didn’t get one. I still fondly remember being
wheeled out of the hospital by a teenage volunteer and basically dumped me at the exit sign. In
the rain. I expected that I would have to sign something or have a police escort in order to leave
the hospital with my bambino.
[3] When people say you’ve never known love like that of loving a child, they are one hundred
and fifty percent right. I am constantly humbled by the love and admiration I have for this
precious being in my life. And, writing and rewriting that sentence does not serve my heart’s
feelings justice.
[4] With that being said, hold on to your gag reflexes! Babies stink. In all sorts of ways. Very
literally.
[5] Babies don’t have the same respect for cleanliness. Or organization. Though, thankfully, my
son does respect the Dyson. And by “respect” I may mean “is-terrified-of-awestruck-by.”
[6] Babies change family dynamics. Mostly for the good. I absolutely love watching my mom
as a grandmother. And my dad as a grandfather. And my grandparents as great grandparents.
And my friends as honorary aunts. Apparently, people find babies interesting! I was unprepared
for the amount of socializing a baby requires. Especially a cute one.
[7] Say goodbye to sleep. I know people say this and I wanted to pat my round-still-pregnant-
belly and say “hahaha not my baby! He will sleep…he’s my child. I love naps! How can he
not?” Well, you should know that I am writing this with approximately four hours of quasi-
uninterrupted sleep under my belt. And my kid is 16 months old. He’s a champion sleeper
When. He. Wants. To. Be. Which, coincidentally, is not when I want to be. I still remember the
first night we were home from the hospital with a crying baby at 3 o’clock in the morning. My
husband and I were so confused. “Why is he crying? Why doesn’t he sleep?” Well, my friends,
I think a non-sleeping baby is his way [and perhaps the universe’s way of getting you back for
defying your parents] of saying “because-I-said-so.” There really is no explaining it.
[8] In the spirit of numero 7, the whole concept of a “night out” will change. While it may seem
appealing to take a break from parenting and spend time catching up with old friends over adult
beverages, I quickly learned that 9 months of no drinking + unpredictable sleep patterns = nights
out that quickly become nights in. What?! The kid is at my mom’s and it’s only 10 o’clock?!
Hellloooo pillow. [and that’s not the 1.5 draft light beers talking. Well maybe just a little.] Old friends
[and, on occasion, my forgotten hubby]: I still love you dearly. I still love the fact that I can
tweet, email, and/or text you in the middle of the night knowing that you may be coming in from
a night out and I am be waking up for a middle of the night feeding or diaper change.
[9] I think there’s a truth to the Mom’s-got-eyes-in-the-back-of-her-head phenomenon. There’s
something about becoming a mother that gives you a fierce sense of strength. And, I’m going
to venture out on a limb and say this is unique to mamas. In addition to being able to see
e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g, who doesn’t hold baby with one hand, and cook and clean and get dressed and
paint nails and brush teeth and straighten hair and feed the cats and pour some coffee with the
other hand?
[10] It feels like Christmas morning every morning I get to wake my child up. This lesson was a
little hard to come by during the first few months [read: ten] when my child took it upon himself
to wake me up [and maybe our neighbors] rather than the other way around. However, had I
known what I was in for each morning when I walk into his room and see his precious, happy
face, so excited to start the day, I like to think I would have complained a little less. Now, I
know that this is also a short phase and soon, I will be facing days where my mere presence is an
embarrassment to him. But for the time being, I enjoy being the one that makes him so happy.
I always enjoy Lauren's wit in her writing so I am once again excited she agreed to share on her baby's first year. I quickly was schooled in month one about the learning curve, so I am excited Lauren agreed to once again wittily share her thoughts on her baby's first year! Thank you, Lauren.
I’m up for any almost any challenge…so I gladly told Caren that I would be happy to
share some lessons that I have learned since becoming a mom in August 2010.
What I learned during the first year…
I pride myself on being organized. In many ways, that sense of organization is like my
mothership of sorts. When I feel overwhelmed or sad or mad or like I need to control something
[who me?], I will organize. Sometimes, I find myself organizing things that don’t belong to me.
But, hello, it’s helpful.
In preparation for Wyatt, I read and read and attended any class that I could. I spent a large part
of pregnancy terrified. Not so much of the birth, but what exactly to do with my baby after he
arrived.
In the true spirit of organization, I have a list of lessons I’ve learned during Wyatt’s first year:
[1] You are allowed to use the words “my son/daughter/child” and people believe you. Granted,
the presence of a baby helps. But I found myself giggling whenever I would call to schedule an
appointment for “my son.” Like, did they need to see my proof or something? Maybe a license?
[2] Speaking of licenses, you don’t need one to parent a child. I was convinced there was a
manual somewhere. Or perhaps, some other organized soul created a list that was discretely
handed out as one headed home from the hospital. I didn’t get one. I still fondly remember being
wheeled out of the hospital by a teenage volunteer and basically dumped me at the exit sign. In
the rain. I expected that I would have to sign something or have a police escort in order to leave
the hospital with my bambino.
[3] When people say you’ve never known love like that of loving a child, they are one hundred
and fifty percent right. I am constantly humbled by the love and admiration I have for this
precious being in my life. And, writing and rewriting that sentence does not serve my heart’s
feelings justice.
[4] With that being said, hold on to your gag reflexes! Babies stink. In all sorts of ways. Very
literally.
[5] Babies don’t have the same respect for cleanliness. Or organization. Though, thankfully, my
son does respect the Dyson. And by “respect” I may mean “is-terrified-of-awestruck-by.”
[6] Babies change family dynamics. Mostly for the good. I absolutely love watching my mom
as a grandmother. And my dad as a grandfather. And my grandparents as great grandparents.
And my friends as honorary aunts. Apparently, people find babies interesting! I was unprepared
for the amount of socializing a baby requires. Especially a cute one.
[7] Say goodbye to sleep. I know people say this and I wanted to pat my round-still-pregnant-
belly and say “hahaha not my baby! He will sleep…he’s my child. I love naps! How can he
not?” Well, you should know that I am writing this with approximately four hours of quasi-
uninterrupted sleep under my belt. And my kid is 16 months old. He’s a champion sleeper
When. He. Wants. To. Be. Which, coincidentally, is not when I want to be. I still remember the
first night we were home from the hospital with a crying baby at 3 o’clock in the morning. My
husband and I were so confused. “Why is he crying? Why doesn’t he sleep?” Well, my friends,
I think a non-sleeping baby is his way [and perhaps the universe’s way of getting you back for
defying your parents] of saying “because-I-said-so.” There really is no explaining it.
[8] In the spirit of numero 7, the whole concept of a “night out” will change. While it may seem
appealing to take a break from parenting and spend time catching up with old friends over adult
beverages, I quickly learned that 9 months of no drinking + unpredictable sleep patterns = nights
out that quickly become nights in. What?! The kid is at my mom’s and it’s only 10 o’clock?!
Hellloooo pillow. [and that’s not the 1.5 draft light beers talking. Well maybe just a little.] Old friends
[and, on occasion, my forgotten hubby]: I still love you dearly. I still love the fact that I can
tweet, email, and/or text you in the middle of the night knowing that you may be coming in from
a night out and I am be waking up for a middle of the night feeding or diaper change.
[9] I think there’s a truth to the Mom’s-got-eyes-in-the-back-of-her-head phenomenon. There’s
something about becoming a mother that gives you a fierce sense of strength. And, I’m going
to venture out on a limb and say this is unique to mamas. In addition to being able to see
e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g, who doesn’t hold baby with one hand, and cook and clean and get dressed and
paint nails and brush teeth and straighten hair and feed the cats and pour some coffee with the
other hand?
[10] It feels like Christmas morning every morning I get to wake my child up. This lesson was a
little hard to come by during the first few months [read: ten] when my child took it upon himself
to wake me up [and maybe our neighbors] rather than the other way around. However, had I
known what I was in for each morning when I walk into his room and see his precious, happy
face, so excited to start the day, I like to think I would have complained a little less. Now, I
know that this is also a short phase and soon, I will be facing days where my mere presence is an
embarrassment to him. But for the time being, I enjoy being the one that makes him so happy.
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