From: Abbey
Subject: Thank you!

Message Body:
I found your website and just want to say thank you so very much for starting it. I am 23 and my husband and I have been married for a year and have bought a house. We both finished college, traveled and are now settling down into married life and are hoping to have our dream come true of a family very soon and being a stay at home mom. All of my friends are single or dating casually, still in grad school and looking for high powered careers and are no where near settling down. The other day I was at a grad party for one of them and thought, out of this room of 20-somethings I am the only married one with a house and dog, and it was an incredibly lonely thought.

Your site has helped me feel like I’m not alone in my desire to be a young mom like mine was. I even have all the society “credientals” of having a college education, husband and home, but I still feel judged. I can’t imagine how hard it is for women who weren’t expecting their pregnancy or weren’t in the “perfect” situation.  I appreciate all the support and advice I find on your site.
Thanks again,
Abbey

Note: Abbey also follow up with this:

I should add that part of the judgement I feel comes from the fact that I want to be a stay at home mom. Sometimes I get looks of horror. “You went to college and have this great job and want to give it up for a kid??!! At your young age of 23?!”

Related reading for Abbey (and anyone else who identifies):

Defending the young mom

My “taboo” traditional marriage

Wanting and choosing young motherhood

Why we love being early mamas

Having kids young might be best for your career

Good luck to you, Abbey!

With any passing of the torch from one generation to the next, the Millennial Generation (or Gen Y) is now wearing a giant red target, with statisticians, career experts, and journalists taking aim.

This isn’t new for the much-studied generation — roughly categorized as those born in the 1980s and 1990s — but TIME Magazine’s latest cover story, “The ME ME ME Generation” is bringing the spotlight back…once again.

To be fair, it’s a pretty fascinating generation to study. And I’m not just saying that because I’m part of the pack. Born in 1986, I was introduced to the Internet in elementary school, where we pioneered this strange new world of screen name identities and chat rooms. I waited for that little yellow man to run across my AOL start-up screen to the music of a dial-up tone. I joined Facebook in 2004 — its very first year — back when it was a simpler version for college students.

I’m old enough to remember life before text messages, yet young enough to never have written a research paper without a search engine.

If you ask us, we’ll say that Millennials are tech-savvy by nature — the first generation to have these innate skills from an early age. We’ll say that we were at the cusp of Then vs. Now, and we’ve been seamlessly rolling with the rapid changes throughout our lives.

But if you ask “them”, we’re lazy, entitled, and shockingly narcissistic. (Actually, I might occasionally tell you the same thing. Not about myself, of course. And totally not about you. You’re lovely.)

You can imagine why people — and by people, I mean Millennials — have been pretty defensive about the characterization of our people. This isn’t the first time the younger generation has been called the “ME Generation”, they say. Narcissism and laziness are characteristics of youth, not an entire generation — they chime in. And while I agree, I also kind of don’t.

There is something uniquely narcissistic about today’s culture — and I certainly don’t think it’s contained inside generational bookends. But still, it originated with us. It started with AOL profiles and AIM away messages, where we thought our daily to-dos were interesting enough for our entire buddy list to care. We invented “the selfie” and splashed them on MySpace. A Millennial created Facebook. A Millennial created Tumblr. A Millennial created Instagram.

Technology blurred the lines between private and public, but Millennials were the catalyst.

Another unique characteristic of our generation — a characteristic that everyone focuses on— is this new post-adolescence/pre-adult 20-something decade where we’re putting off marriage and motherhood at record-making rates, except it’s not always for a high-powered career. Often it’s because today’s 20-something are living back with their parents, extending the college lifestyle, until we suddenly have a new expectation for young adults. (And it’s much lower than we’ve ever had.)

I don’t need a study to tell me this; I have Facebook.

But I can’t help but think that there’s a conversation that isn’t being had: What happens when the “ME ME ME” Generation starts raising the next generation?

As of right now, Millennial parents — those of us spending our 20s taking photos of our kids instead of selfies (OK, fine, maybe along with the selfies) — have a hard time deciding whether we’re living traditional or unconventional lives, considering most of our friends aren’t posting sonogram updates until they’re teetering on 30. We can feel more isolated from our peers than any past generation, given the gaping disconnect in lifestyles.

It’s also interesting to enter parenthood with such an overwhelming online culture, bombarding us with judgements and an over-saturation of information. Previous generations have had plenty of unwanted advice, but this generation has our family in one ear, well-meaning strangers in the other, and then the entire world blinding us with information behind a screen. And it’s hard to ignore. Facebook and Instagram might feel like novelties to older generations, but it’s just an extension of the buddy lists and MySpace pages we grew up with. As parenting chugs on, so will technology.

What affect will all of this have on the next group of kids — the narcissistic blurring of private vs. public, the constant Instagramming, the faces buried in screens?

What about our positive character attributes for parenting?

Can we predict the generational parenting mistakes up ahead — just like our parents were too helicopter-y, and their parents were too slap-happy, and their parents were too emotionally distant?

Are all of these societal issues, rather than generational? And does it make a difference?

One thing’s for damn sure: We’ll be documenting it all.

“The capital-T Truth is about life before death. It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge and everything to do with simple awareness. Awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, that we have to keep reminding ourselves, over and over: ‘This is water, this is water.’”

via Upworthy.com.

“I have so many questions right now.”

This is your opening line to so many conversations, typically when you’re staring out a car window or just about to exhale into a deep sleep. You’re four years old — the age where bathroom breaks are torturous wastes of time, a kiss can fix most anything, and Mom has the answers.

And the questions tumble out of your mouth — out of your suddenly lanky body:

Why do leaves fall off trees, and why do people cut down trees, and how does a tree become paper, and how do the leaves come back?

Where does the water come from?

Who makes people? And who makes the person who makes people?

You collect answers — filing them away into what I only imagine to be an organized stockpile of facts and experiences. You look to me, waiting for answers that all moms have. Moms with their knowing looks that ooze authority, and with their shoulds and shouldn’ts and don’ts. I am your compass.

And yet you don’t, you can’t, see the person behind the mom. You might catch me in rare glimpses — a playful look, a passionate adult conversation, a childhood photo where I’m playing with the same toys you play with today. But I have a specific role in your life, masked in motherhood.

Yet if you saw beyond the mom, you’d see a person with her own questions. I’m observing and absorbing — much like you. While you’re in the infancy of your development, I’m still in a primitive stage of adulthood. I might know scientific facts (ahem Google) and social norms, but as far as real life perspective — as far as being a mother and a wife and an adult — the sun sets and I wonder if it’ll rise again. I’m still relatively young to be parenting a 4-year-old child, but you don’t see my age. You don’t see how my identity is new and evolving — how I’m purposefully and quickly growing into the person that I want to be, for you. And also because of you.

Ever since you were born, you’ve been trying to understand and learn — to make sense of the nonsense around you.

Ever since you were born, I’ve been refocusing and transforming. I might know why leaves fall off trees and where water come from — but what does my behavior teach you? How does our behavior, as a society, affect you? How do I prioritize what’s really important after seeing life through your fresh, unaffected, uninfluenced eyes?

To you, I’m mom. But I’m also a young woman growing into herself.

And one day I hope you’re proud of the woman — the mom — you helped create.

I love you.

Thank you.

So we had family photos done — which is so not us. We don’t do things like engagement photos on a bridge, at dusk, in the rain. Or Christmas cards. Or buying white dresses to walk down aisles.

But in talking about a possible future pregnancy (I know, you guys; I’m sick of hearing about it too), we started getting all sappy and sentimental about this 3-person family that maybe one day wouldn’t be a 3-person family. And then we realized that we have maybe one — two, counting the obligatory new-family-in-the-hospital-bed photo — family photo of us. Which is pretty sad.

So considering my sister is a photographer, we decided to check something off our BEFORE BABY list.

This is our only “let’s smile for the camera — CHEESE” photo, and I’m so glad Noah wasn’t listening. Because he totally makes the shot.

And here are some more of our family photos:

For the very first time, we’re ready to move onto the next phase — whatever that may be for us. We’ve been talking about it for years, but it just may be our time. We’ve spent so long embracing and adapting to change that the thought of voluntarily causing change has been scary.

But sometimes you just have to jump.

And no matter where we land — whether it’s with another baby, or two more babies, or simply moving ahead as a three-family unit — I’ll have my family.

This is my family.

Are we waiting for another member? I hope so.

But I wouldn’t trade a single second of these last four years — just the three us. It’ll always be enough.

[all photos by Picnik Photography]

A reporter for Canada’s National Post called me last week to talk about the experience of being a 20-something mother when the culture — in both the U.S. and Canada — is largely changing.

What’s it like to be a 20-something mother today, when most 20-somethings aren’t parents yet?

And so we talked about the changing 20-something demographic and how isolating younger motherhood can feel.

We talked about the “young mom” stereotype, and the evolution (and multiple definitions of) feminism.

We talked about the unique benefits of choosing younger motherhood, and how, after watching Gen-Xers struggle with infertility and regret, some Gen-Yers are reevaluating.

We also talked about how choosing younger motherhood might possibly be better for your career (despite the National Post‘s headline).

It’s always nerve-wracking to be interviewed because you never know how your quotes will be used/interpreted and how the general tone of the article will end up. But I think it’s an accurate and insightful look into this recent cultural issue that clearly crosses boundary lines and even oceans. It includes several perspectives from “early mamas” in Canada — and hey! I’m quoted in there!

Check out the Canadian Post article and let me know your thoughts.

Also: Are you a young Canadian mom? What’s been your experience?

Happy Mother’s Day to my sister, on her very first Mother’s Day.

She gives us younger moms a good rep, you guys.

A natural mother.

 A beautiful mother.

Read more about my sister as a new mother, over on Disney Baby. 

We took our first real family photos, which is totally weird for us but I’m so glad we did it. (More on that next week.)

I just wanted to pop in with some cool stuff that I think you guys will like, all in the “early mama” community:

For anyone who ever feared the “Did you hear who got pregnant?” question being whispered behind your back in an excitedly insensitive way.

Rebecca Woolf echoes many of my recent thoughts so perfectly and eloquently in this post. I love this; all of this.

I’m going to be talking about this TIME cover story next week, about Millennials (which is a lot of us here — whether you’re 17 or 31). Some interesting stuff.

This post from Meagan Francis is my favorite.

Congratulations to Emily and Tara on their recent graduations! Congratulations on your baby girl, Gemma! And a happy 27th birthday to Chaunie!

And here I am, elsewhere:

My fellow four-eyes: The hottest trends in eyewear.

The parenting myth that drives me bananas.

A Mother’s Day craft that’s super easy for little hands.

DIY watercolor paints.

Noah: The toddler edition

Bizzaro beauty trends for 2013.

Enjoy your Mother’s Day, ladies.

Last week I featured a guest post from Early Mama reader Chaunie — recap: she was frustrated about the angry comments on my CNN.com piece toward unplanned pregnancies — and I said I would add my own opinions for Parenting Magazine. So I did.

“There are smart, educated, careful young women who get pregnant. It happened to me, it happened to Chaunie — it happens. And when it comes down to it, does it really matter why?

Yet whether it was an accident, ambivalence, or a careless mistake, it’s always the woman’s fault. She allowed herself to get pregnant. She couldn’t keep her legs closed — as one commenter judged. And instead of expressing compassion and support for this very difficult situation that any sexually active person could wind up in, there’s contempt and shame.”

Read the full post at Parenting.com.

Unplanned pregnancy can be terribly, gut-wrenchingly scary, and I wouldn’t wish my darkest moments on anyone — even the jerks who turned up their noses and scoffed at my stupidity. How could I allow myself to get pregnant? As if sex doesn’t inherently come with a pregnancy risk, even with protection. As if there are certain educated pockets of the population immune to accidents. As if they’ve never nervously stood in line at the drugstore with a box of Reese’s Pieces covering their First Response pregnancy test that, luckily, turned out to be negative.

In retrospect, unplanned pregnancy can be a beautifully unexpected change — not necessarily a life sentence of poverty and government assistance. It’s made me a more compassionate and tolerant person with more self-awareness than ever before. Plus, it brought this little boy into our lives…

But it’s met with criticism and scowls. A finger wagging in our faces, long before they know our story.

(And we don’t all have the same story.)

It’s easier to lump people into neat little categories — it makes us feel in control, as people. But to the young woman who recently stared at a positive pregnancy test in disbelief, I don’t think you’re stupid. Or unworthy of support. Or a lesser person.

I think you’re scared and embarrassed. I think you cry a lot — maybe alone in the shower, like I used to. I think you need to feel encouraged and loved, not shamed. I think you need to be told the truth: You’ll be happy.

It’s one thing to discourage unplanned pregnancies — if only for the health risks and mental turmoil — but once she’s with child? Damn, you guys. The rudeness and Holier-Than-Thou judgements are 100% hurtful and 0% productive.

I only wish more people saw the humanity through the stereotype, mustering up compassion before contempt. And maybe before they rolled their eyes or whispered the “guess who got knocked up” news to the hungry-eyed gossiper, they could stop — just for a moment — and think I could be her.

Because they totally could.

And then they’d understand.

My friend Vanessa is back with another baby product that you probably don’t know about but should. Because if you don’t have friends and family to tell you about the new stuff on the market, then you just might miss out on some cool finds.

If your newborn/infant has difficulty staying asleep, here’s where your ears should perk up. The Zen Swaddle is the first weighted swaddle blanket to help mimic mama’s embrace, making it totally unique to the typical swaddle blankets on your gift registry. Check out Vanessa’s full review:

For more about the Zen Swaddle, check out Nested Bean. And make sure you swing by Nessa Knows Best for even more baby product reviews.

Also: read all about Vanessa’s “early mama” story.