Lest you think I welcomed this superhero phase with open arms, let me assure you: not true. You might remember my sweet 2-year-old Noah who loved magic wands and princes — who belted Broadway songs on street corners.

When brought to the toy store, the only thing he wanted was the LEGO DUPLO Cinderella castle to play with mommy. Now he’s collecting the big-kid LEGO Batman set with daddy.

And it’s not that I only want him to be into “girly” things — which is what so many (blatantly worried) people thought — although I did like the genderless-ness of it all. But princes and fairies are gentle and kind — no violent explosions or aggressive fighting. It’s pure magic.

The superhero thing irked me. Sure, maybe it’s because I was losing my baby to big-kid stuff, and okay, maybe a tiny part of me was clinging onto a suddenly lanky body that was running toward his daddy. (I’ve always known he’d one day follow around his dad like a mini-me, mimicking his movements and interests — desperately waiting by the door to play catch, or, as it turns out, superheroes. I remember assuring Justin that this would happen, back when Noah would reject his affection for softer, more maternal arms. “One day he’ll be yours,” I said. “Just let me have this little time as his world.” That day has come.)

But more than anything, his playtime interests personified his personality. They were him. And I don’t want to let go of him yet.

With this new phase comes the mourning of the last — which is so much of parenting, right? A series of goodbyes and hellos, both painful and exciting. I’ll miss the toddler who said things like, “I YIKE my diapers, mama,” and would never leave the house without a wand in hand. Just as I miss the baby who clung to my shirt as he slept, only waking to eat from my body. Just as I miss the newborn who made grunty dinosaur noises and slept with his victory arms straight up in the air.

The passing of these personality quirks means the passing of the personality. And would the superhero phase bring a more aggressive little boy?

When I brought up this sadness to my mom, she quickly replied,”But this superhero thing might be best for HIM. Think of how much it’s helped him.”

And it’s true.

Superheroes have made him more comfortable in his skin — able to relate to his peers in a way he never could. He’s become more confident and, believe it or not, imaginative than ever.

See all the lessons that superheroes have taught Noah over at mom.me.

And one day, as I look at a young man who has celebrity crushes and spends way too much time in his room, I’ll miss the days he ran to his batcave and plotted his missions. I’ll miss the little boy who thought a forcefield could prevent anything bad from happening, who was always the leader of the good guys.

I’ll miss this little boy.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last four years of motherhood and three years of blogging, it’s this: comparison is toxic.

Toxic, unproductive, and misleading.

Stop comparing yourself to the seemingly perfect mom at preschool orientation. You don’t know her story.

Stop comparing yourself to the 30-something moms in TV commercials and movies — the ones with hefty 401Ks and nannies and high-powered careers. They’re fiction.

Stop comparing yourself to the party-going 20-somethings on your Facebook feed. They might be lonely.

Stop comparing yourself to the “successful” women in your field — the ones getting promotions and opportunities that YOU WANT SO BAD. You don’t know how hard they’ve worked, how long they’ve worked, or their ultimate goals. “Don’t compare your beginning to someone else’s middle.”

Stop comparing your kids, your husband, your style, your success, your anything. Because — trust me on this — it will do nothing but make you miserable.

Don’t chase someone else’s dream because it looks pretty, and don’t assume that someone else’s life is enviable when you have no idea what life is like behind closed doors. I know comparison is seductive — it is for everyone — but life is so much simpler when you eliminate that nagging pressure and sadness. Not only is comparison unproductive, but it’s a big ugly liar.

When you catch yourself Facebook stalking, stop. When you spend 10 minutes Googling someone’s accomplishments, snap out. When you spend any amount of time beating yourself up for not measuring up to someone else, realize how circular and destructive that is — not to mention absurd.

These are all just noisy distractions, not worth your tears and frustrations.

It’s just not worth it.

 

Photos: Etsy.com//Etsy.com//Lara Casey

 

 So we’ve moved on from Spiderman.

And that’s been our week.

Other than that, here are some cool things I’ve read this week:

3 Things I Wish I Knew Before We Got Married

15 Assumptions You Should Make Today

I love Jaime’s daily smoothies on Prudent Baby

20 fresh ways to decorate Easter eggs

And here I am, elsewhere:

25 favorite quotes from children’s books

Easter egg decorations with a Disney twist

 Baby names to watch out for

Children’s book for Passover

20 pretty spring dresses for $20 or less

7 DIY ideas for pressed flowers

25 awesome April Fool’s jokes to play on Monday

Noah’s egg hunt for one

Introducing Parenting Magazine to Early Mama

Share your favorite links with the class, below.

And have a happy Easter, everyone!

If you remember, my (early mama) sister had a little boy named Benjamin and he’s just about the most precious thing I’ve ever seen.

He’s three months old now, phasing out of newborn and into baby.

He’s starting to smile and laugh now — with this surprisingly gut-deep laugh that sounds like it should be coming out of an 80-year-old man.

And just look at this face!

He’s still in a harness for his hip dysplasia — poor thing — but they’re hoping to get it off next month.

Aunt Michelle loves you, my muffin boy. Kisses forever! xxxxx

***

P.S.: My sister (who, obviously, took these photos) is ending her maternity leave and starting to take clients again. So if you’re in the New York area, contact her for photographing your little ones!

All photos via Picnik Photography.

 As I’ve mentioned here and on my new Parenting.com column, the Interwebs are in a tizzy over young unwed moms. I got pregnant before there was a ring on my finger, I know a lot of my readers did too, and apparently MOST 20-somethings have the same experience.

Well today’s guest post is from Darlene of Young Mamma Tales (you might remember her from her previous guest post on studying abroad with her toddler), about her pre-marriage pregnancy and her decision to postpone marriage.

I was a Sophomore in college. I had just transferred out to Colorado, 700 miles away from my family, to be with my boyfriend. We were young, in love, having fun, dreaming about studying abroad and even talking about out future.

Then I got pregnant and things changed quickly.

All of a sudden I was questioning that future we had been talking about for months.

The day after we found I was pregnant, we met for lunch. No one but my best friend knew. As I was trying to force myself to eat he blurted out, ”Well, should we get married? Let’s get married?”

I snorted and water came out my nose.

This was not the way I imagined being proposed to. And this was not the way I imagined getting married.

I immediately said no way, and I could almost see the look of relief on his face. He wasn’t ready either. But he would have married me the next day if I would have wanted to.

I knew I loved him, even knew — or thought I knew — that I wanted to spend my life with him. But getting married at 20 because we were having a baby is not what I wanted for myself, Drew, or our baby.

Would it have been easier if we would have gotten married then? Probably.

Would we be happily married today? Probably.

But I didn’t want to get married not knowing for sure if we were supposed to be together.

I didn’t want to question years down the line, maybe my entire life, if we would have gotten married if we hadn’t gotten pregnant.

The beginning of our pregnancy was extremely hard on our relationship. Moving in together, being completely broke college students, being pregnant, me having to rely on him for everything — I wasn’t used to that. It was tough on us. Sometimes I’m amazed we survived.

Then Jasper came and things didn’t get any easier. Not for a while. All of a sudden I had this newborn to take care of, 700 miles away from family and friends, with a boyfriend who went to school 20 hours a week and worked another 50 hours a week. I’m amazed our relationship survived that as well.

But we did.

We began to depend on each other. We became a family. Not because we had to, but because we worked hard, stayed, and fought for it. We wanted it more than anything.

When Drew proposed for real, almost 2 and a half years after his first semi proposal, I didn’t have to think about it. I knew I wanted to be with him. Because I loved him. Because he was an amazing father. Because we, as a family, belonged together.

The following fall we got married in front of over 200 of our friends and family — with Jasper by our side. Jasper still talks to this day about the day “we got married.” And we did, it wasn’t just Drew and I, it was the three of us. And having Jasper there with us on our wedding day is something I wouldn’t have changed for the world. He got to be a part of his parents’ wedding — how amazing is that?

I still can’t say for certainty that we would be together if we hadn’t gotten pregnant. We were 20 with very different futures planned out. But that doesn’t matter to me anymore. What matters is that this is what we both chose.

***

Related posts:

6 questions to ask before saying “I Do”

Are we prepared enough for marriage?

The importance (or unimportance) of marriage

5 ingredients to save a young marriage

Did you get pregnant before marriage? What did YOU decide to do?

 

I’m so tired, you guys.

I’m tired of hearing teen moms will ruin their children’s futures, just because of their age.

I’m tired of hearing young unwed mothers are a detriment to society, because hasn’t she heard of the “marriage before carriage” rule?

I’m tired of hearing love is only worthy within familiar boundary lines, and that untraditional families, of any kind, are damaging. Young love? Won’t last. Gay love? Doesn’t exist.

I’m tired of people — researchers, journalists, bloggers, mothers, students, grandparents — making these blanket assumptions with unequivocal certainty, as if they’ve walked in many a pair of shoes and seen life through a multitude of perspectives. And I’m sad to see so many women feel discouraged and undervalued because of a circumstance, not a certainty.

The problem with the traditional discourse is this: it reinforces that there are right ways and wrong ways to be a mother/woman/person, and each path has a consistent set of obstacles and a consistent end point. Studying statistics isn’t the same as studying humanity, and just because the odds might be stacked against you? Well odds are meant to be beaten — and you have to believe that you’re exceptional enough to beat those odds.

But it’s hard, right? It’s hard to believe you could be the exception when you get berated from all angles. It’s not just the random outbursts from strangers, but it’s on the news, and on the Internet, and in TV scripts. When you’re constantly told you’re not good enough, you eventually believe it. When you’re constantly told you’ll fail, you probably will.

I think what I’m trying to say, society, is that I’m tired of this abusive relationship and I want out. I want to be supported and accepted and unconditionally loved. I want you to boost my confidence with words of encouragement, not seeds of doubt. I want you to say, you know what? The road you’re taking is a little bumpier, but you’ll make it through — and instead of telling me about the 1,000 people who crashed on this road, tell me about the 700 people who made it across and are better people because of it. Give me positive examples to aspire towards, at least ALONG WITH the negative.

Maybe we could all acknowledge the fact that we don’t know what it’s like to think, live, and love differently than we do. I can’t judge your emotional depth and commitment levels based on the way you look, or your age, or who you love. I can’t predict your future based on a black-and-white statistical graph.

Negativity leads to discouragement, hopelessness, and shame. But positivity? Man, imagine if we all just flipped the script from blasting the worst-case scenarios to focusing on the positives. Nothing would really chance except we might be more motivated to strive toward success and happiness. Except we might be more confident in our abilities (which might make us all a little less defensive).

And isn’t that everything?

***

Print: Mei Lee, Society 6

 

 

While I’m incredibly grateful for the steady writing gigs that pay my bills, one of my biggest goals for 2013 is to focus on Early Mama and grow this community into something useful and meaningful (which, unfortunately, makes me $0 at the moment). So when I was approached by Parenting Magazine about regularly contributing to Parenting.com, and when they said I’d be writing about being a young mom (rather than writing about toys or clothes or crafts), I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

I closed my inbox and ran right to Noah, spilling my news with a big smile and victory arms. He was the first person I told — before Justin, before anyone. We did a happy dance around my bedroom, hugging and jumping. He didn’t get it, but he certainly felt my pride and excitement — which brought me back to 2009 when I twirled around the living room with infant Noah, excited about getting an interview at Babble.com. Just the two of us, sharing my accomplishments with smiles and giggles.

I’ll be writing there 1x per week starting in April, but my first post went live on Thursday — about a timely yet frustrating issue.

Here are some other cool things I read this week:

An open letter to parents of small children.

A 1-minute video that stays with you.

Why Americans are the weirdest people in the world.

I love that this food blog has music playlists for any type of dinner party.

Tearing each other down holds back all women.

The Feminist Housewife: Can women have it all by choosing to stay home?

This is so true.

And here I am, elsewhere:

The importance of imagination

12 Easter dresses under $35

My favorite children’s books for Easter

Rainbow recipes!

 

I also wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who sent emails over the past couple of weeks. I’ve read every last one and I’m working my way through replying, but they all blow me away. Thank you for continuing to read and for taking time out to let me know why you appreciate Early Mama. It really means a lot. Like, A LOT. So thanks.

Did you read/write anything worth sharing with the class? Link/comment below:

I wouldn’t say say my pre-baby self was a judgmental person, per se, but I’ll admit to thinking I had people figured out. “A certain type of person” would do ______, wear _______, think _______.  I was fascinated by sub-cultures of people (still am), and I think that’s what really drove me to study journalism. I wanted to tell people’s stories — to understand them.

But then my own story changed in a way I never expected, and I was suddenly dropped into a sub-culture that I didn’t identify with. I wasn’t the “type of person” who moved back close to home — raising kids in the same community that she grew up in. Back in high school, I judged these people as smaller and unambitious. I thought that breaking out of my bubble — living down in the energetic glow of Manhattan — was for the shining stars.

(And then I lived in New York City and gagged on the colliding smells and the fumes of taxis, and took the train home to breathe fresh air and be surrounded by quiet, where my introverted self could be at peace.)

I wasn’t the “type of person” to have a child at a young age, before establishing my career and traveling the world — as educated young women are supposed to do.

Except I was, apparently, because people don’t cluster together in neat boundary lines. You can’t know a person by a circumstance, or even an image. You can’t determine your worth and potential based on how other people label you. And I think I really learned that lesson once I was seen through a lens of judgment and stereotypes and statistics.

I am not a statistic, I thought.

I daydreamed about starting a Web site that challenged the standard image of a “young mom” and redefined the concept. A Web site that showed the smart, successful, stylish women who started having kids early. A Web site that counteracts the negative.

So I did.

And then I was told that the very act of counter-acting a judgment is a judgment in itself — which I guess is, in a way, true. Was I being judgmental by asking people not to judge me? Was I judging MYSELF through that lens, as if saying “I’m not like THEM!” (while pointing to a crowd of young moms and shooting a judgy look)? I think that’s a reasonable argument to make, but here’s the thing: Being judged (which, let’s be honest, I was — I heard the insensitive comments and absorbed the shocked looks with my ears and eyes) made me less judgmental of “them.” And by “them,” I mean anyone who I maybe would have judged in the past.

They don’t know my full story; I don’t know their full story.

I’m not perfect, of course. I’m only human. But being the judged makes me more conscious of judging others, and I think it’s made me a more tolerant and accepting person.

And that’s why I participated in Non-Judgment Week with “early mama” Heidi behind The Conscious Perspective. I know I mentioned it before and I hope many of you signed up, but in case you didn’t, here are some of my favorite pieces of insight:

Heidi made some important points about stepping outside of your belief system and really listening to other opinions instead of trying to change them. “By listening and tuning in to others we do not necessarily have to abandon our own beliefs. Hearing another perspective is an amazing opportunity to grow and learn. Take advantage of this opportunity when it arises.”

“The way that other people judge me is none of my business.” -Martha Beck. While we can control judging others, we can’t control others judging us — and that’s OK.

Guest poster Stephanie Seguin of the blog Chasing Hazel wrote, “We can not evolve as citizens or as spiritual beings if we refuse to let the things that we believe to be true govern our thoughts toward others.” She goes on to stress that we all grow and evolve with time, and even negative experiences help change our perspectives for the better.

Stephanie also shared this quote from Deepak Chopra,”It helps if you remember that everyone is doing their best from their level of consciousness.” They think they’re right, just as much as you think you’re right.

Even now that “Non-Judgement Week” is over, an important lesson still lingers: A conscious perspective can lead to a more compassionate life.

Did being a young mom change your outlook on judgment?