First, Just Throw Away All Your Ideas

Michael and I were big fans of the "I'll never..." game. It's a fun game parents-to-be play to give you a sense of security and allow you to go through with parenthood because thank God YOU have it all figured out, unlike every other parent before you.

You have such a good time playing this game, you begin to share the better rounds with your friends; some of whom are already parents. "I'll never let my child watch TV, listen to 'kid' music or use a binky." Rest assured, this demonstrates unequivocally your naivety, absurdity and pretentiousness.

While I knew there would be some adjustments on my plans and schemes for parenthood, I didn't realize "I'll never" is completely useless. The game should be called "There's no limit to the desperate things I'll do to make it go smoothly-ish."

This seems like a good spot to send a universal apology to all the parents out there I judged silently (and not so silently) on the "choices" you made raising your children. I now know there are no choices. There are simply ways to make it through the day alive and sometimes with your sanity intact.

Parents out there are nodding their heads. 

Parents-to-be, are telling themselves how I just didn't have the discipline to set standards and now (they whisper knowingly to themselves) I'm letting the child run my life. Good luck you guys...call me in 8 months, we'll chat then.

Don't slit your wrists or send your child to live with wolves just yet. It's not entirely hopeless. You still have a say over what diapers they wear and (for now) what food they eat.

Top Moments in Parent-to-Be Delirium:

1. You will not catch me sitting in the backseat of the car with the child. Can you not bear being out of eyesight for the 15 minutes it takes to get to the grocery store? Clingy much?
   Oh...I didn't realize the child will scream as if you tore out her fingernails with pliers if she can't see me. And she won't stop for as long as it takes; 20 minutes to the store, 17 hours to Texas, she can scream the whole way - round trip.
   
   Yet, she instantaneously stops summoning the Lord of Death when I sit in the backseat with her; which allows me to go to the store to get food which I haven't done in three months.
   
   Call me Backseat Betty...actually don't.
   
   (FYI, this stage passed at about 5 months and now The Bean entertains herself fine in the backseat.)
2. Clearly the bassinet is something invented by the furniture makers of the world to sucker parents into buying yet another crappy, blocky item to take up space in their house. That child will never sleep in the same room as me. There is nothing she is going to need so quickly that the 10 seconds it takes to get to her room will be too long.
   
1. OK, fine...I can see the merits of sleeping in the same room for the first week or two. Everyone is tired and it's pretty easy to nurse throughout the night. But no longer than a month.
   
2. The first four months seems like an appropriate amount of time for the kid to be in the crib in the parent's room. I read somewhere they become better sleepers because they hear your breathing. But no more than four months.
   
3. Six months tops.
   
4. Definitely no co-sleeping.
5. Not past 18 years old.
3. My child will not watch TV or the internet until [some age I deemed appropriate that was not 2 months old].
   Oh hi Elmo! Hey there Wiggles!!! You mean, if I put you in front of my child I will be able to take a shower for the first time this week? Come on in!
4. A child with a binky is a clear indication of a lack of discipline and coddling.
   A child with a binky doesn't scream in my ear all night long.
5. There is no way this child will interfere with my social life. Children are portable. There are babysitters. We won't go out as much, but we will still go out and have our own lives.
   This one is tricky because for the first 3-4 months you are lulled into a false sense of security. The kid IS portable. They sleep all the time. You can go out to dinner and stick them in the car seat under the table on a chair next to you. Life is good and all those other parents just weren't trying hard enough.
   
   Until.
   
   The Schedule takes over the world.
   
   Someone needs to be at the house between the hours of 9AM-11AM, 1PM-3PM, 6PM-6AM. Those are The Bean's sleeping hours and LORD SAVE YOU if you make me miss a nap time. Overtired children don't just go to sleep. They scream at you for 5 hours first so you are clear about how tired they are.
   
   Yes. It is that dramatic.
   
   Mrs. D-Zo, get a babysitter and get your life back.
   
   *ahem*
   
   Let me break this down for you:
   
   A) We pay TENS (as in multiple tens) of THOUSANDS of dollars a year for child care. Money exceptionally well spent as The Bean is with someone all day who is doing a better job than I would at raising my child. Do you know what is not included in this cost? Extra hours. Our cost-free social hours (see The Bean's waking hours above) are not particularly aligned with anyone else's. Going out costs an additional $15/hour; which might be reasonable except that...
   
   B) I haven't slept in 8 months. Not a single night all the way through. I'm so tired my hair is crying. Which leads me to...
   
   C) Things I have no interest in doing: Wearing something other than sweatpants, putting on makeup, going somewhere where there may be noise, having to say something intelligent, having to say anything, not sitting, and staying up past 9PM since...
   
   D) The Bean doesn't get memos on schedule changes and she has a tight morning of activities planned that just does not allow for wiggle room. There's waking up at 5AM and yelling until someone gets her a bottle and a new diaper. There's the hour-long discussion she has with her bottle millimeters from the monitor microphone. Then she has to fall asleep for 30 minutes - just enough time for the family to all fall back asleep - and then wake up ready to really start her day at 6:30.
6. I'll definitely blog, workout, clean, shower, have a career, walk the dogs, pick up tennis, get my hair dyed every 4 weeks, cook dinner, repaint the bathroom, plant a garden...
   See the response for point #5.

Month 6: Week 3

Each week, nearly every mother in the world receives an update (or 5) on their growing child and the milestones appropriate for that week.

For example, this week's updates for The Bean included such gems like:

• She's finally rolling from front to back and back to front!
• It's a new world to explore and she's using all her senses
• Your baby won't have the dexterity to open books or turn pages for another 3 months
• Your baby will start cooing and "talking" with you. Encourage this!
• You're probably starting to enjoy a structured sleep schedule and a full night's sleep - relax and enjoy

The milestones are mostly lame and wildly unhelpful.

Here's the update they should have sent this week:

Congratulations! Your bundle of joy has learned to lock her hips and knees which means she'll never sit again. Why sit when there's walking to practice? Don't expect to sit your little tyke down if the phone rings, if you need to pee, if it's time to feed her. We can do all these things standing up! Yoga and hot baths should help alleviate the back pain from all the stooping to parade your pride and joy around the house.

Your child is exploring the world around them...mouth first. Blocks, spoons, other children's hands, table edges, sneakers, baby wipes, freshly washed diapers, feet, sticks, clumps of dog hair and the cat will all be approached mouth first and promptly covered in drool. Have a towel handy.

Reading is fundamental and an important skill to foster early in your child's life. Hand your child books and magazines and watch them be torn to shreds or thrown at passing cats and dogs. 

By 6 months old, an infant has usually discovered his or her voice and she will serenade you with impressions of screech owls, Pterodactyls and squealing piglets. Encourage your little one to speak up and they will - in restaurants, church and during important conference calls.

Naps? Not so much. Bedtime? Bah! Starting this week, your little one will refuse to sleep. Ever again.  

The Sunny Side of Life

OK. Before friends and family start a suicide watch on me, call child protective services or run to the doctor's for vasectomies, I have a confession to make.

Parenthood? It doesn't all suck.

Pinky swear. No backsies.

It's easy - and a lot funnier - to focus on the mishaps and trials of parenthood because you go into parenthood thinking you have it all figured out; only to be rendered completely useless and frazzled by something weighing 10 pounds and unable to lift its own head.

Talk about humbling.

But when it comes down to it, parenthood is awesome and I wish I had done it sooner (you know, when I was younger and staying up all night was what I wanted to do).

Month 1 sucks (totally sort of kidding). The child eats, sleeps and poops - mostly sleeps. Which would be awesome if you weren't completely amped up on adrenaline and convinced the only way the child will survive is if you stare at it. Forever.

Month 1 involves a lot of TV.


Month 1


In Month 2 you learn to sleep when the child sleeps which makes your own survival through parenthood bootcamp possible.



Month 2

By Month 3, you are suddenly grateful for being alive. Not because you've made it this long in parenthood bootcamp, but because you realize it took great restraint for your own parents to not kill you when they went through this crap with you. There are some major Mother's and Father's Day presents on the horizon for Nana and Grandpa this year. 

Month 3


Month 4 brings with it baby smiles and baby laughs that can melt your heart...or extremely embarrass you because your child sounds like a dying hyena when she laughs and then it hits you that she is mimicking what she hears from you.



Month 4

 And by Month 5 you realize you have a little human on your hands. It's a person already becoming independent and having their own thoughts; most of which do not coincide with your own...a theme that will last throughout both of your lives.


Month 5

 It's amazing.

It's tough.

It's worth it.

Mostly.

Over the Hill

Michael and I have a firm agreement in place when it comes to bringing The Bean to various appointments and engagements. I am to handle all appointments involving needles and he is to handle all appointments involving ice cream.

I watched him nearly faint dead away when The Bean was getting her jaundice heel clips that first month and I took pity on him. Why yes, sucker IS tattooed on my forehead, why do you ask?

Yesterday, The Bean turned the big 0-4......months.
(I'm sure I will use that joke again when she turns 4 years old. I ain't skeered.)

On top of our court visit for her to become an emancipated minor; we had a doctor's checkup. Which included weighing, measuring, eyeball checking and hip rotating. These activities apparently translate into infant amusement park. The Bean was all gummy smiles and coy giggles. I had to check the label and make sure I didn't pick up some other person's kid by accident.

But I was holding my breath. Because I am a mother. And a mother knows that at any minute the screams might start and on this particular day the probability for uncontrollable screams is near 99%.

The needles entered the room held innocently enough by a woman clad in happy jack-o-lantern scrubs. The Bean was mesmerized by the orange vomit explosion.

She was off guard when the first needle struck and the second one followed within nanoseconds. The nurse was a pro.

I braced myself.

The Bean turned violently purple.

And then she erupted with a short holler as if to say "do you KNOW who the hell you are messing with?!?!?!"

Then she got quiet...and angry.

She glared at the nurse, "Bitch. You distracted me with your hypnotic pumpkin voodoo shirt. I will SO not be giving you the satisfaction of crying. I save that shit for my mama."

I packed The Bean up and we went on our way.

We got to the car and I handed The Bean her stuffed bug-butterfly-alien-fish toy to occupy her on the way home; hoping a car meltdown wasn't in my future when she finally had a chance to think over the series of events which just occurred.

She bitched to that critter the whole way home. The tone of her babbles indicated she was informing that thing about the injustices of being only 14 lbs and unable to smack a ho.



You're getting a framed one at Thanksgiving, Mom. No need to print.



Month One

I was expecting this, but can now officially confirm: The first month of parenthood is exhilarating in a wildly boring way.

Even the scores of books, newsletters and baby websites I read to ensure we are raising a genius baby put me to sleep.

"This week your baby will sleep for 19 hours a day and might make noises in their sleep. Enjoy!"


Clearly, the baby books never met Michael.

Michael, bless his heart (yes, I mean that in the Southern way), is incapable of letting The Bean sleep when he is around.

As we know, stereotypes are created for a reason. It's safe to say we have a "Daddy's Little Girl" on our hands. I have officially moved down to the number three spot of "living things Michael loves." I fall behind The Bean and Baxter (our black lab). He is so smitten, he insists on waking The Bean up every time he sees her so the two of them can gaze adoringly at one another.

Well, until this week he would stare adoringly at her and she would stare blankly at the world around her while pooping with all the force, sounds and smells of a 68-year old truck driver who lives solely on three bean chili and cabbage. But even that's endearing because infants tend to smile when they're blowing ass. And smiling babies make your heart explode into unicorns and brownies topped with salted caramel ice cream.

But one of The Bean's tricks as we round out this first month is staring back.

So we spend a lot of time in the D-Zo household staring. Michael and I stare at The Bean wondering aloud how we managed to make such a cute child and she stares at us wondering if we're going to get any better at being parents and how she got stuck with such imbeciles.


That about sums up The Bean's list of tricks. That one item.

I nearly expanded the list to two items, but squawking like a wounded goose and breaking free of every swaddle in order to waves one's arms around like a drunken airplane signal controller are less tricks and more wildly annoying things keeping everyone up at night.

My list of tricks at one month post pregnancy is also one deep. I grew EVEN LARGER BOOBS THAN BEFORE. They are bigger than The Bean.

I alone will solve world hunger.

Despite the lack of exciting marketable skills The Bean has developed at this point, we're going to keep her around for at least another month. She seems to like me well enough (as evidenced by her tendency to stop screaming when I pick her up) and that's a quality I really value in a child.