Remember those TV ads from the ‘80s with the close-up of a greasy fried egg sizzling on the skillet, followed by the ominous “This is your brain on drugs?” Well, consider this my updated millennial PSA for all you mamas and mamas-to-be out there. But instead, imagine a close-up shot of your feet with a flip-flop on one and a work flat on the other (which one of my fellow colleagues totally did), followed by the words “This is your brain on baby.”
To try and “momsplain,” as I like to say, all that I’ve learned since having my first child three and a half years ago – would quite possibly need a blog dedicated all to itself. I’d call it “You Know Nothing, First-Time Mom” (where all my GOT fans at??). Enticing idea, but instead I’ve decided to do a little run-down of my single favorite baby registry must-have that just might get you through those second (or third, or fourth) baby blues.
Sure, we’ve all heard the old adage “everyone can use more friends.” When you’re a new mom though it’s crucial, and I’m talking DEFCON 1 level crucial, to find friends that will not only be there for you – but literally carry you through this motherhood thing. I’m speaking from experience when I say, these eight “Mom Friends” need to be sought out, vetted, and secured before you ever even think of pushing out another human from your who-ha.
“Three’s a charm,” “Good things come in threes,” and “The Holy Trinity” all symbolize something I am starting to put a lot of stock in. The number three may just be my lucky number. I mean, if last “leap year” alone isn’t proof, I don’t know what is. Grant started a new job, we closed on our first house, and found out we were expecting our second child – all literally within three weeks of each other. Then, in the just the past three months, my blog baby went from my little fledgling project to being inundated with brand collab opportunities that has me in a position I never thought would come. A place where I can finally turn something I’ve been so utterly passionate about into a real business where I’m in control of my own success or failure.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about these early days of motherhood. Maybe it’s because I’m about to go through it all again with a new baby girl, or maybe it’s just because these pregnancy hormones make me all kinds of sentimental (poor, poor hubs). What I think most about, though, and what I’m officially making as my “Mother’s Day wish,” is how I wish our children could remember the kind of love we have for them in the baby years.
Fresh off a glorious babymoon, I thought it would be fitting to do a bump update since it’s been a couple months, and I haven’t whined at you in a while 😉 J/K, this pregnancy has been fairly uneventful, other than the horrible sinus infection and lovely acne that seems to be way worse with this one – thanks girl. So here goes –
No seriously, anyone who tells you a babymoon is overrated, is lying to you. I’m really just saying this for effect, since I can’t think of any mom in their right mind who doesn’t see the invaluable need for a weekend getaway before your life is taken over by yet another little one. As my husband (a.k.a. my editor) is reading this, I know he’s thinking – she’s trying to play all hard and cries with the best of them any time we spend more than a day away from Garrett. Well touche, my love, because I not only didn’t shed a tear this time, you may recall I was the one saying we need to do this again before number two arrives. Yep, that’s how great a babymoon is. Sure, date nights do the trick – but the catch is that you have to have the resources to do them like every week. Sorry to say that, fixing up a house and juggling new job situations, all while a certain toddler wants your undivided attention – has us prioritizing date nights the way I prioritize working out – man, a nap sounds so much better right now.
Starting my own blog has truly been an eye-opening experience. I’ve met so many amazing and inspiring people along the way, and have been exposed to unique opportunities that I’ll never forget. Now that I’m able to extend this to Garrett, it makes me so happy to see how his life is enriched by my little “side project” I started when he was born. One such moment happened a couple of weekends ago, after being invited to attend Cook2Learn Academy’s Italian cooking class at Taverna Pizzeria and Risotteria.
Last week I had started a draft for this blog post with a working title of “Happy Place.” Except a lot’s happened between now and then. As I laid awake after a much needed cry fest last night, the only thing I could think of was that it was time for me to “get real.” Too often we feel the pressures of putting on that happy face, even though we know well and good we are holding back tears or anxieties that eventually come to a head when we’re least expecting it. Last night was one of those times. I was preparing to give my son a bath just like any other night, but this night he insisted on having a “boo boo” that was going to hurt if he put his foot in the water. Oh dear. So for a solid five minutes (felt like 30) I tried every bribe in the book, until tears ensued and dad walked in asking buddy what’s wrong. To which I went off on a lightening speed explanation on why I’m so frustrated after trying to negotiate with a toddler for ten minutes, which results in said dad backing out of the bathroom slowly, very slowly.
I have a lot of mixed feelings on maternity wear. Not because there aren’t a ton of cool brands out there – see Fashion Mamas founder Natalie’s crowdsourced list in LAmag (I may or may not have contributed to the H&M & TopShop picks). I just have a hard time spending money on clothes that will be worn for maybe six months and then disappear in a box somewhere in the back of your closet/no-woman’s land. But on the other hand, shopping for your new-found bump is one of the short-lived perks to being pregnant. So, I made a compromise with myself: I will allow myself to shop for maternity clothes, if and only if they are affordable and fit in a way that makes me feel great about myself (cuz let’s face it – come 32 weeks in, we all need a little pick me up). Plus, there’s nothing like your best friend from college getting married to kick you into hyper-shopping mode.