When you feel like you cannot go on another minute, because it’s all just too much, remember this: you’re in the trenches right now. You won’t stay there. And it does get better. Here’s a story to explain how it did so for me.
As Squeak’s second birthday approaches, I’m thinking about what I wish I’d known when I started this parenting gig. No-Kids Lydia needs to drop some preconceived notions.
I was so traumatized by Peanut’s chaotic visit to the feeding specialist, I had prepared myself for the worst when it was time for Squeak to go. How would the feeding specialist’s strategies work on Squeak, who was too young to be bribed with screen time and dessert? As it turns out, my little guy surprised us all.
At 6:00am on February 3rd, Squeak woke up unable to breathe normally, his heart racing so fast I couldn’t even count the beats.
You’re better off telling someone you enjoy kicking puppies than admitting that you let your baby cry it out. When did we start crucifying moms for putting their own sanity and well-being first once in a while?
Sometimes you see bad parenting and there’s no mistaking it. Other times, what you think you see isn’t anywhere close to reality. Here’s one situation I found myself in last week where “judge not” definitely applies.
We make a lot of decisions early in our lives that we have to live with once we become parents. Some are huge – like your choice of spouse – and others seem small. When life’s circumstances change, those little things suddenly become big annoyances.
It’s been 5 years since I made the decision not to take my husband’s name.
I can now address all those “what ifs” that the naysayers warned me about before I got married.
I was terrified to handle both kids by myself when my husband went out of town. Like most things, it’s a whole lot of trial and error. Mostly error.