Redefining the Young Mom

Budget Nursery Idea: The Glowing Dinosaur

My two-year-old son is all about dinosaurs right now, especially with his three favorites: Long Neck (Brontosaurus), Teeth (T-Rex) and Spike-on-Back (Triceratops). We also happen to be shopping around for a night light, so we can finally turn off the kitchen light at night. And because the $69 Offi MyPetLamp (which would be perfect) is more than we’d like to spend, I was stoked to find these dinosaur lamps at ThinkGeek for only $20.

See more of these dinosaur lamps after the jump:

1 Comment - Discuss!

The End of Breastfeeding?

One of my biggest goals when I was pregnant, and then when I was managing life as a working mother to an itty bitty infant, was maintaining my (crazy abundant) milk supply for a full year. I took a breastfeeding class, had regular phone convos with my lactation consultant, and pumped more often than he latched on — even (gasp!) pumping while driving on the rare oh-crap-I-don’t-have-enough-milk-stored-and-I’m-late-for-work occasion. It wasn’t fun and it wasn’t always easy, but I did it.

5 Comments - Discuss!

Goodbye ’09…

Sometimes life changes suddenly, drastically, wonderfully, and every day is an adaptation to that sudden, drastic, wonderful change. One day, then another, then another, and then the ball is dropping as it did last week, last month, last year? No, couldn’t be a year ago. After all, this baby was only born last week, last month — wait, almost a year ago?

2 Comments - Discuss!

Pacie Detox

The couch cushions are disheveled.

Baby toys overturned, scattered like a crime scene.

The baby cries, wails, now screams.

I’m on my knees, peering under the couch with a flashlight.

Justin is kicking books and balls and puzzles out of his way,

as if our future depends on it.

And doesn’t it?

The baby screams.

Tempers flare.

3 Comments - Discuss!

Dear Noah: Your first thanksgiving

Dear Noah,

Today, and every day, I’m thankful for you.

For this.

If you only knew how simply being here, simply existing, has brought so much happiness to so many lives.

Thank you for the laughs, the kisses, the love.

Congratulations on making it through your first big family holiday.

We’re all crazy, it’s true.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I love you, Beaner-Man.

Forever,

Mommmy

2 Comments - Discuss!

Confession: I lie about my age

In real life, I’m 23 years old.

Yes, I’m 23 and I’m a mother and I’m married and WHAT?

I know, I get it all. the. time.

“Wow you look so young to have a baby!”

“Yeah, I’m, um, 23.”

“Oh. Yeah…well…you are young to have a baby.”

“Oh my gosh you have a baby? You look like you’re 18!”

And then comes the questions: Am I married? When did I get married? Why? Was it an accident? Are you working? Still in school?

The constant interrogation is exhausting. So if I snap at you, ignore you, walk away, know that it’s only because I just can’t keep answering the same questions. I can’t keep feeding your curiosity. Over and over and over.

On the one hand, I can understand their reactions. I might have the same one. We all judge, we all gossip. But to say it? Out loud? To my face? Maybe I AM 18 and it’s a horrible story that I don’t want to talk about. Maybe I’m in my 30s with really good skin. You have no idea what my situation is. You have no idea who I am.

And what is my situation? I’m in a loving relationship — more loving than many long-term marriages! — and I have a degree and a career and family support and — and — and…

Why do I feel the need to explain myself? I’ve given up on trying — the reaction is always the same: A polite smile and nod, but their skepticism, their pity, is apparent. That poor little girl, that relationship will never work. That poor little girl, her life is over.

So I’ve started to lie.

Usually I’m 25, sometimes 27, depending on the age of the person asking. (I’ve found that older individuals have a harder time discerning age.) And that usually shuts them up. Because while 25 is still young, and only two years away, it seems to be more accepted. It’s not — gasp! — 23!

But while I can lie to strangers, the fact remains that I am still a very young mother. Most of my friends are in grad school, cheating on their boyfriends, getting wasted. I’ll have to face future play dates where other moms are 10, even 15 years old than I am. But for me, for us, we’re ready and we’re happy, despite your upturned nose.

And you know what? When some people in their mid-40s are running after toddlers, shipping their kids off to soccer then dance then piano, kissing boo-boos and checking for monsters — I’ll have an empty nest. I’ll have alone time with my husband and grandchildren to look forward to. So while I might not have as much money as I would have had in 10 years, and I might not have as much “freedom” as I would have had in 10 years…

I’ll have a decade longer to be with the people I love.

So there.

Note: This post was converted from Blogger to WordPress, so excuse the lack of paragraph separations.

59 Comments - Discuss!

Happy Birthday Aunt Nikki

Yesterday my baby sister, my one and only sibling, my perpetual enemy and closest friend, turned 21.

Twenty. One.

Two two of us on MY 21st birthday.

One day we were playing Little People, the next we were clawing and smacking and IS THAT MY SHIRT? TAKE OFF MY SHIRTing, and now we’re adults. Adults. It just doesn’t sound or feel right, not when referring to us as a pair. Because even though we’re bigger, older, slightly more mature, a part of us will always be those teenagers in bedrooms across the hall. Somewhere in us there will always be doors slamming and objects thrown and the faint plea from our mother: NOT ON TOP OF THE STAIRS!

We’ve had good times, don’t get me wrong. Like the dress ups, the performances, the family game nights. The giggle-fests over nothing, the belly laughs over everything.

And how about the time she found out I was pregnant, dropped everything and SCREAMED at the top of her lungs? When everyone else was feeling a little (or a lot) of confusion, shock and WTFs, her reaction was pure excitement. And it stayed that way — sometimes more than I could handle — until she saw his face.

And now — now she’s more than my sister. She’s my son’s aunt. She’s the one who spends all of her free time and not-so-much-free time with him, playing and laughing and spoiling.

She’s the one who makes him Etsy-worthy homemade toys. She’s the one who photographs him every month, every week, capturing emotions and milestones I never would.

She’s the one who loves him like her own — and a child can never have too much motherly love.

Happy Birthday, Nikki. Thank you for supporting and helping me, and thank you for loving him. We’ve been through a lot together –shared secrets, family upheaval, a certain Escalade incident — and here we are. A mother and an aunt. But once upon a time we were just sisters, and deep down that will always be enough.