On Mom.Me —> Mom Plans, God Laughs

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After typing up my two-page birth plan, I had five copies printed out on highlighter-green paper and laminated. After going over this plan with my “birthing companions” (my husband and my mother), these copies were placed in the suitcase I would be bringing to the hospital, so as to be handed out to hospital staff who would be attending to me.

I had drawn up this document after attending a breastfeeding class, an all-day birthing class and a three-week hypnobirthing course. Though I had always been the type of person who rolled her eyes at “breast is best” pronouncements and who thought attempts to have a natural birth were utter lunacy, suddenly I was making plans to allow only intermittent monitoring and to refuse an epidural.

To read more of my first post for mom.me, click here!

My Daughter, The Con Artist

conartistWe had trouble putting Emily to bed last night. She got her usual pre-bedtime bath. Bottle. Burp. But at the end of this routine, her eyelids didn’t go droopy. Her arms didn’t go limp. Instead, she just fussed and fussed and fussed.

Eventually, I took her upstairs anyway, at which point I fully expected her to start screaming as soon as I placed her down in the crib. Instead, she got that flirtatious look on her face, the same one she uses whenever I’m paying attention to anything but her and she wants to dial up the charm.

I swear, she literally places her finger in the corner of her mouth while smiling coyly, then runs it down her chest while giggling. Or gurgling. Shameless. I wish I had video proof of this so you could see what I’m up against, but it looks something like this.

So anyway, she started smiling and laughing at me, grabbing my finger and making the most adorable cooing sounds ever in the world. And obviously, I am powerless against this. So I spent the next 15 minutes holding her hand and staring at her adoringly and smiling back at her, which is exactly what she wanted.

[Read more…]

Ringing Endorsements: Volume I

singing bowl mamasteI thought I’d take some time every Friday to share with you the things I especially loved throughout the week. Things for moms. Things for word nerds. Things for yogis. Etc.

Without further ado, my first installment of Ringing Endorsements: [Read more…]

These Boobs Belong To You, Babe

sleepingbebeI never wanted to breastfeed.

I know, I know. This is something I’ve always been wary of sharing.

With those people who dared to pry, in fact–those in my breastfeeding and hypnobirthing classes, those in my new mom support groups, those veteran moms who are a part of my life–I’ve always just said, “I’m going to give it a try and see what happens.” This only to avoid the pitchforks and angry mobs.

I always assumed it wasn’t for me. The cracked and sore nipples. The leaky boobs. The wrestling with nursing cover-ups in public places. The pressure.

Heck, I hadn’t been breastfed, and turned out okay. Why should I feel guilty for wanting to do the same with my own daughter? [Read more…]

Finding Time for My Yoga Practice

babylungeHello fall, a season I hate because it means I have to pack away my sundresses and flip-flops, but also reluctantly enjoy because it means I can go longer without shaving my legs. Guess we’re in it for the long haul now.

Wardrobe changes aside, the start of fall also brings with it a new yoga challenge. With every solstice, I join a group of yogis online and try to do 21 days of asana (the physical poses typically associated with yoga), at least once every day. I was especially excited for this latest challenge. With a newborn around, I feel as if I need it more than ever.

But since we started up the other week, I think I’ve actually been doing less yoga. [Read more…]

The Incredibly Overwhelmed WAHM in Me Honors the Incredibly Overwhelmed WAHM in You

multitaskingmom

I was flipping through the Fall 2008 issue of Brain, Child when I read the following words:

“All of my life I’d believed that writing was my calling, my passion, my reason for being, my greatest contribution to the betterment of the world, but that theory of my life unraveled completely when I became a mother. I had a new passion now. A new reason for being.”

I felt a jolt of recognition as I read these words, mixed with regret, guilt, and bewilderment.

But I also felt hope.

After all, I was reading a piece by Cheryl Strayed.

And since writing those words, Strayed had gone on to write and publish the best-selling Wild and, my personal favorite, Tiny Beautiful Things. [Read more…]