I don't wanna become someone who can't live up to what I already done...

As many of you noticed, the last year has not exactly been a wealth of valuable blogging from NMOTB.  In fact, my blog was so silent, I did have people ask me if I had totally decided to give it up. I would usually say that I was in the midst of working on something (and sometimes I was), but for the most part, I actually was doing nothing for myself as a writer.

I wish I could say my time away from the blog was spent constantly generating new content.

In a way, I suppose it is what that time is spent doing.  I spent my time away from my blog just being a mom and literally developing new stories to tell you, new life lessons to share, and engaging in my general jackassery on social media in the meantime.

I often walk a fine line between being New Mom on the Blog - the writer and New Mom on the Blog - the MOM.  I see and admire so many women who are able to stare at a blank screen and fill it with words and content that actually generates feedback, income, notoriety.

I stare at a blank screen and freeze.

I realize that with every tweet, every post, every picture shared on Instagram, I am developing a persona who people may LOVE, or - who people may judge harshly.  I open myself up to that pain and judgment that is always lurking just below the surface.

I have a pretty incredible fan base just in friends and fellow mommies.  Those people lift me up.  Give me ideas for blogs.  Ask me questions.  Are proud to have their stories featured.  They understand that I am trying to build a brand, a business, and they are my most loyal patrons.  They understand that I absolutely adore being a mother, even if I don't spend my entire day at home with my kid.  Even if sometimes I write about the not-so-shiny moments of parenthood.  They get it. They've been there.  They want to hear more.

Then I have a (mostly) (thankfully) quiet brigade of critics.  Those that don't agree with my wishy washy opinions on how to raise your child.  Those that don't like that I'm a working mother.  Those that don't understand why I'm not still breast feeding my 3 year old.  Those that don't think of me as much of a blogger at all, much less a writer.  Those that don't realize that I obsessively check my social media stats so often that I know the minute, if not the second that they have clicked "Unfollow" and that the dejected feeling of that action will follow me around for the entire day. If you asked those critics about my brand, about my business, they'd sniff their nose at the mere idea of it.  And of course, those are the ones I let in.  The ones that I allow to rid me of every creative idea I have.

This fills me with an anxiety that makes it literally impossible to put a sentence together.  It makes me so frightened to share what I have to share here.  It makes me doubt whether or not I deserve to attend any blogger function, to take sponsorship opportunities, to string together a sentence for the world to see at all.

So, sometimes when I go away - it is to find my voice.  Usually it just takes a few comments on my Better... post that will do it.  Or a great reader question. Or just some topic I just can't be quiet about. So, when I go away, that's when I need the support the most.

What I'm trying to say is - thank you, for doing just that. Sticking around with me even during times of silence.  For being one of the MANY people who "Liked" my Facebook page last week when I (shamelessly) mentioned I was a mere 19 followers away from 200. (I think my page got over 60 likes in just an hour.)  Sometimes that silly recognition is validating enough for me to shove this damn anxiety bug back down in its hole and start again fresh.

So, I guess thanks - thanks for always proving me wrong.

I've been everywhere, man...

Oh, hey.

Let's just avoid all awkwardness and the obvious fact that the last post on this blog wasn't even written by ME (as well as the fact that it was posted in May) and pretend like it never happened.

Great.

I mean, before I could even write this post, I deleted at least 100 spam comments that got through in my absence, so it's not like there wasn't new content being generated.  Plus, I have several interested sponsors to sell things like bidets and psychic readings.  (As well as some sort of flash light, but the website made me feel uncomfortable, so I'm not sure that one will work out.)

In other words, I've hit the big time in the world of blogging.

What have I been doing?  I'm glad you asked.  I'll make a list.  I'm good at lists.

1.  Running!  I finally took my own advice and started running.  And then I became one of those annoying people that posts about it on Facebook all of the time and obsessively looks at her MapMyRun routes.  Please feel free to follow me on Instagram so you can see more screen captures of my running stats than you would ever care to see.  So far, I've run in two organized events (5Ks) with hopes to do more as well as maybe run more than 3 miles at a time some day.  I'm not destined for marathons, but I absolutely love the way I feel before, after, and during a good run.  I finally know what everyone has been talking about.  (Shut up, Amanda.)

2.  I went from reading lots of books in a year to reading one in a 4 month period (and it was one of the Harry Potter books) so I joined a book club with girlfriends from work.  It has been fantastic and those girls can read way faster than me, so keeping up has cut into valuable blogging time.  (Not that I am complaining - every book has been fantastic.)

3.  We have a few free months of Showtime right now and I have chosen to watch as many seasons of Dexter as I can before it gets taken away.  If anyone has a problem with that, I now know how to murder all of you and pretty much get away with it, so I would shut it.

4.  Exploring our new city has been one of the most exciting parts of this summer.  Sure, we're doing a lot of touristy-type things (prior to living here, I'd been to Chicago three times and two of them were before I was even ten years old.)  I'm learning which pizza places are my favorite, which train lines I need to take to get where, and just breathing in every aspect that I can.  I love it here.  LOVE IT.  (St. Louis, you are still home and I love you too.  I can love lots of places.)  When I found out we were moving, I adopted this mantra - joy is where you are - and so all of this has been an exercise in making this new place our home.  Sometimes I feel like I'm cheating on my family and friends back in St. Louis, but mostly, I feel joy.  Who knew I'd love living right smack dab in the middle between a cornfield and a skyscraper.  Talk about balance.  So, joy is where I are.  Or am.  Whatever.

6.  Oh, yes.  I decided to battle this one just before The Incredible Hulk turned 3.  We have been mostly* successful.  (* - I still clean my fair share of poo out of little boy briefs.  We're working on it.  I am really proud of him.)  I can't wait to share with all of you my methodology as well as my general NMOTB comedy, but I just have to sit down and write it.  It's coming.  I promise.

7.  It isn't as though I am new to Pinterest (and I have over 3000 pins to prove that), but lately I've been very interested in cooking for my family and figuring out a way for us to lead a healthier lifestyle through the food we eat.  And doing all of it on a budget.  Everyone has different ideas of what the word "healthy" means, but for me it means eating mostly produce, whole grains, and a variety of foods that involve the least amount of processing as possible.  (Or, if I'm tired, a bowl of sugary cereal or a hot dog - because I like to keep it real.)  For awhile, I've been posting info about my monthly meal planning on my personal Facebook, and I've since been encouraged to share that here.  In truth, meal planning is something REALLY important to New Moms.  Being willing to throw that plan out the window and order a pizza is really important too.  So, I'll do my best.  I am going to try out a few new recipes a month (and I'll be sharing them on the blog), I recycle ones that work (you can find those on this board mostly), add in a few easy go-tos, as well as some tried and true family recipes (those will never be shared, but you're welcome to try to figure them out...)  Think I'm doing it wrong?  You're probably right.  But, my family never goes to bed hungry, so there's that...



Other than that, I've been singing, sewing, grocery shopping, cleaning...damn, it's a good thing I don't play Bridge, I sound like a housewife from the 50s.

But, mostly, what I've been doing is really and truly enjoying life.  Maybe it's the trips to the city.  Maybe it's the beautiful weather.  Maybe it's just the fact that life (while not totally free from struggle and stress and sadness) has been in a delightful state of stasis after a year which was far from it.  I think back to where I was one year ago and my eyes fill with tears of gratitude over that time of uncertainty being over.  (Not to say that you're ever fully free from uncertainty, but at least that period in particular is over.)  So, enjoying life it is.  Doing the ordinary mom-type things that develop content for this blog and also eat up all of my time to put it on paper (or, rather - screen.)

For that, I am grateful.  Now, if you'll excuse me - I have a list full of posts to write.

Children get older and I'm getting older too...

A few nights ago, my friend Paige posted a picture of us from more than 10 years ago on Instagram.  A conversation ensued and one of her friends pointed out that she recognized me from LiveJournal.

I'm on the left.  This is before I started waxing my eyebrows.

A trip down memory lane later and I was logged into my LJ account, pouring over entries from a time in my life marked by drama, boys, drama, girl fights, drama, boys, and not nearly enough studying.  LiveJournal was my first foray into the world of blogging. (If you can call writing a cryptic, one-line message into Semagic, stating my mood as "depressed," and that my music was Chantal Kreviazuk's "Surrounded" on repeat a "blog.")  I actually got in trouble for things that I wrote in my blog (stupidly, unfiltered and public) and I would not be surprised, in reading it over the past few days, if I said some things back then that cost me friendships, relationships, opportunities - who knows?

The point is that in reading over entry after entry of mind-numbing blathering on about the same stupid guy and the same stupid fight and the fact that I always, always painted myself as the victim and refused to own any part of the problems in my own life - I found myself being eternally grateful that I grew up.  I got older.  I learned how to treat people a little better.  I learned how to treat myself a little better too.  Somewhere along the way I abandoned the selfishness, the penchant for spelling the word "definitely" wrong (every. single. time.  REALLY?), and the emo music on repeat.
I have never been so grateful for getting old.

How old?
Ten years today.  Ten years ago today, I wrote my very first blog entry.  I am positive that exactly one person read it - Paige - who first introduced me to LiveJournal.  She inspires me constantly to be a better writer, but truly she introduced me to the idea that blogging is writing and some of it (like hers) is freaking beautiful.

And, fortunately we dress better now too.

Fortunately, I was able to break up some of reading my loathsome entries with the always popular meme posts.  One was a "get-to-know-you" meme that I filled out.  It asked my favorite quote.  At the time, I wrote this:


Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one." - C.S. Lewis

In a true full-circle moment, I want to thank you all for the outpouring of support I received on my last blog post.  You all have blown me away by how accepting you have been of my truth, but I am truly shocked by how many of you felt the same way as I did when you were only weeks into motherhood.


My first blog was started on the foundation that I just needed to hear someone out there say, "It's normal.  I feel that way too."  (Well, that and the fact that I was a narcissistic 19 year old who loved to hear herself speak.)

And, similarly, this blog was started on the foundation that I knew there were women out there that went through what I went through and who needed someone to tell them, "It is going to be okay."  You all proved to me that I have done what I set out to do with my last post.  So, thank you.

I can't promise that I will write as often as I always wish I could.  I certainly don't have time for the multiple page entries that littered my LiveJournal page DAILY. (And I wonder why I failed Theory my freshman year.)  But, I do know that your support on my last post has provided me with exactly what my narcissistic 19 year old self was looking for 10 years ago.  In so many awesome and beautiful ways, so many of you contacted me just to say:

"It's normal. I feel that way too."

So, thank you.  Please keep reading.

Better...

I've written this post countless times in my head.  I was selecting words for this post long before this blog every existed.  And yet, in 2 and a half years, you've never read it.

This post has received the most frequent use of my delete key.  I actually wanted to vlog it once, but talked myself out of it for silly reasons - I need to have my eyebrows waxed first.  I could use a haircut. I need to lose a little weight.  I don't want to cry on camera.  And so, this post has never been published.


I don't know if I can honestly say I suffered from postpartum depression, but I do know that I was miserable (in a way that didn't seem normal) in the weeks following my son's birth.

At first, I thought it was my own fear of failing at breast feeding.  But, as the weeks wore on, I realized it was more about my fear of failing as a mother.

I was terrified all of the time.
I felt hopeless.
I felt overwhelmingly sad.

When I'm at a grocery store or a restaurant and I see a mother with a newborn, I find myself looking at her and wondering - is she as miserable as I was at that time?

I knew I was supposed to be happy, overwhelmed, but happy.  Worried, but happy.  EXHAUSTED, but happy.

But, I wasn't happy. And maybe that's why I have never written this post.  I am ashamed to admit how sad I was in the first few weeks of my son's life.

I remember standing at the changing table and watching out the window as our neighbors had a barbeque.  I could hear music and laughter and could tell the day was just beautiful, but all I could feel was sadness.  I remember telling my husband, "I feel like we'll never have fun like that again."  Looking back, it is hard for me to recall joy in those first few weeks of motherhood.  I know it was there.  But, I just can't remember.

I began to doubt my decision to have children and resent my own ignorance at thinking I could handle the privilege of motherhood.  I felt so consumed by selfishness that I almost couldn't bear it.  How could anyone look at that beautiful little boy and not feel anything except for joy? How can you look at that child and feel so miserable?  You are an unfit, awful, neglectful, horrible mother.

I remember on our last night in the hospital, a nurse came by and asked what time we wanted to send The Incredible Hulk back to the nursery.  Instead of answering her, I burst into tears.  I realized that this was the last chance I would have to hand my baby off to someone else and I wanted to do it (we had some paperwork to fill out and a video to watch), but wanting to "get things done" made me feel horribly guilty.  The nurse said she'd give me a minute and left the room.  When she returned, she brought tissues and some fresh water and said nothing but this:

"It gets better."

And it did.  I don't remember the exact moment, but I do remember looking into my son's eyes at 3 months.  Seeing his sweet little smile and hearing those cute little coos and I realized how happy I was. It didn't happen overnight, but soon, I knew that nurse was right.  It did get better.

To anyone who ever stumbled upon this blog with the search terms "I'm a new mom and I'm sad" (that's true, someone found my blog that way) or to anyone who ever just wrote "new mom" in Google and hoped they would hear someone say these words - here they are.  It took me two and a half years to be able to say them and writing the posts that fill this blog have been all about the journey of motherhood and all of the joy, humor, and excitement that journey entails.

So, if you're just starting out on the journey of motherhood.  Here is what I have to offer:

It is hard.
It is exhausting.
It is scary as hell.
It is okay if you aren't filled with the joy of motherhood every single second of every single day.
And?

It gets better.

Photo Credit: Stephanie Rosser

-----

And, if it isn't getting better.  If you think you may be suffering from postpartum depression - help is out there.  Please tell someone how you are feeling.  You are not alone.  Here is a resource to connect you with the help you need.  Help is out there.  http://postpartumprogress.org/

Waitin' on my rocket to come...

I'm approaching the first anniversary of this blog.
I have so many big things planned.
I have THREE guest posts I have to edit (or actually start writing).
I haven't written a legitimate post since...oh my gosh, I just had to check...it's been almost three weeks?!

I am completely at a loss for words.  Literally.  I guess if I were a writer, I'd call it "writer's block," but I'm a silly mommy blogger, so I'll just call it...ugh.  I don't even have words for that.

I have completely dropped the blogging ball and I realize I write about that fact more than I write about breastfeeding, but it upsets me so much.  Blogging is such an outlet for me and quite frankly, the fact that I haven't been using it scares me a little.  I might take up day-drinking.

Kidding.  I think.

I am in awe of people who make blogging their life, who are able to crank out post after post of amazing writing.  Shoot, I'm in awe of people who crank out post after post of subpar writing.  At least you're doing it.

Let's face it, it's more than I've been cranking out lately.

The support and feedback I have received about my blog from friends, family, and readers who are pretty much total strangers has been incredible over the past almost year.  Seriously, you guys keep me going.  You make me feel like I'm writing a freaking New York Times Bestseller, when really - it's silly little stories about me and my baby.

So, thank you for your patience.  No, there is no new blog today.  No new topic.  I have about four posts that I plan to work on this week, but I have no idea if they will actually make it to the blog any time soon.

I'm just waiting for that moment of brilliance to hit.  Or, failing that - some really awesome/hysterical thing to happen so I can write about that.

So, stay tuned.  I will be back.  Shortly.  I promise.

I played the game, I dropped the ball...

Confession.  This is the first time in a full week that I actually signed into my Blogger account.
If you wrote something beautiful or witty or funny last week - chances are I didn't read it.
Not for lack of wanting.  I just simply have been without the time to do it.
I need to have a tag for my posts in which I talk about not having enough hours in the day, but for now - just know this is one of those kind of posts. 

When I was in school I almost never made excuses.  Mostly because I'm a terrible liar and excuses are usually the things you say so you don't have to tell the truth.  Well, here's a bunch of excuses for why I haven't been around lately.  But, I can assure you of this - it is the God's honest truth.  And while I'm being honest, it's really just another post in order to put off writing the stuff that is usually the meat and potatoes of New Mom on the Blog - snarky, parenting humor.  I have lots and lots of ideas, but haven't the foggiest idea how I will ever put all of those ideas into words.  Which is exactly why this blog is for fun and why I will never make a career as a writer.  (Can you imagine?  We'd starve to death!)

My Top Five Excuses for being a Bad Blogger


1.   Validation

Validation is a wonderful thing.  So wonderful, in fact, that when our administration took special note of the validation training my DBT team did, I volunteered to help put on a training for the entire facility.  Fast forward about a year and a half later and I had to make good on that offer.  These trainings had to be given during all 3 of our shifts, which meant that several times in the past week, I had to get up at 4:30 am.  Being lucid for a training before dawn?  Difficult.  Writing a witty blog after it?  Forget it.  AND, to make matters worse.  The lack of sleep made me lose my voice something terrible and after a night of coughing my poor little head off, I took my first sick day of the year.  No.  Seriously.  OF THE YEAR.

2.  Laundry

Yes.  It is a never ending job.  And to make matters worse, after a seemingly overnight growth spurt, The Incredible Hulk (he's my son, in case you forgot during my extended absence), needed all new clothes.  Seriously.  Nothing fit him.  All of the sudden.  But, this couldn't happen during a time when the weather stayed a consistent temperature.  NO.  It happened when a temperature swing of about 40 degrees Fahrenheit is just about the norm.  Which means I went out and purchased a full wardrobe and washed it all - only to turn around and have to buy another full wardrobe and wash all of that.  I completed all of this around the same time I realized he was already growing out of the size I bought.  Someone.  Make it stop.

3.  The Quilt

A few months ago, I got this great idea to make a quilt out of TIH's old receiving blankets.  It is seriously the best thing I've ever done.  However, it takes a lot of work. And time. And a lot of patience.  Our Cups Runneth Over has expressed interest in doing a blog post about the project - so at least that's something for the future of blogging.  I'm even in the process of picking out a sewing machine.  To buy.  ME.  The most undomesticated person in the whole history of ever.

4.  My Family

Oh, yeah.  Them.  It's probably important that if I'm going to write a blog about the life of being a wife/mom, that I should actually...be a wife/mom sometimes.

5.  These. Stupid. Books.

Like crack.  In book form.

In truth, they are not stupid.  They are wonderful.  I actually have had to physically restrain myself from getting the third book so I can get some freaking stuff done around my house.  I read the last 5 pages of the second book sitting in the church parking lot before Mass.  It's just ridiculous, my friends.  I recommend them to all of you.  I also recommend that you write a formal apology to your family and friends for ignoring them for the next few days.  Because you will ignore them.


So, consider this my formal apology, blog world.   I have dropped the ball of being a blogger in this ever-present juggling act.  I swear, I trying to pick it back up.  I love you all and I am slowly working on reading  your lovely posts, maybe even writing some comments, and getting back to all of your emails and correspondence.  You know I could never be away for too long.

I mean, until I get my hands on a copy of Mockingjay.

I want it all...

Disclaimer: I'm doing something on the blog that I've never done before and never planned to do.  I am responding to another post that recently enraged me.  There is nothing overtly wrong with what the author says, and she clearly comes from a supportive place.  She is right.  Our culture could do more to support breast feeding.  But, she has some pretty radical view points (most of which are derived from her psychoanalytic background, and lemme tell ya, this behaviorist ain't buying it), and as a breastfeeding mother human being, I am completely offended.  This is only my response to her view points by expressing my own.  I am not out to attack, berate, or other wise demonize this woman.  That said?  She pissed. me. the. frack. off.

I had a rule when I started this blog that I wouldn't make the entire thing about breast feeding.  In truth, the topic did seem to be integrated into every aspect of the first year of being a new mom.  Now that we've closed that chapter, I really thought I could move on. (I have a guest post coming up about the topic, but other than that I've been planning to write about other things.)

I have to admit, I'm terrible at social networking lately.  I skim through my Twitter feed as best I can, but most of the time I don't truly digest anything and I rarely click on links (even though my tweeps always have awesome things to share.)  But, for some reason, the link above caught my attention.  Honestly, I wish I could have gone without reading it.  Because I am just floored by how judgmental this opinion is.

It is a difficult and selfless thing to decide to become a parent.  No matter HOW you decide to go about it.  We make excruciating decisions about the silliest little things and are all constantly scared that the decision was the right/wrong one.

One decision I never struggled with was my decision to be a working mother after I had The Incredible Hulk.  I was encouraged (by a wonderful and supportive boss) to take as much maternity leave as humanly possible (even beyond what FMLA would allow.)  She even was willing to allow me to come back part-time at first if that would work better for my family.  It didn't. It wouldn't. And it doesn't.

I have always known that being a stay at home mom would never work for me.  Money, sanity, and the fact that I love what I do has always made the decision easy.  I have had some people be very loving, accepting, and encouraging in my decision to be a working mom (some of whom were working moms themselves, some of whom weren't.)  I've also had people be very judgmental, condescending, and not at all supportive of that choice.  Perhaps it is those experiences with people which made me even more, shall we say, prickly about this article.

Listen, I haaaaaaaaaaaated pumping.  Hated it.  But, parenting - no - life is about sacrifice.  I wanted/had to work.  I wanted to breast feed.  So, I pumped.

No, it isn't the perfect substitute.  And yes, some studies (though there is still very much to know about the science of breast milk) suggest that the mechanism of breast feeding is as important as the composition of the milk itself.  However, the author states that to be a breast feeding mother is to be "exquisitely attuned" to your baby's needs and patterns of feeding.  She then further suggests that substituting a pump for a breast would cause you to miss out on the "building blocks of an intimate relationship with one's child."

To make this suggestion is not only judgmental - it's just plain wrong.

If this were the truth, the relationship between my son and I wouldn't have reached it's full potential.
If this were the truth, the relationship between any formula-feeding mom and her child would not be "intimate."
If this were the truth, the relationship between my son and his father would be almost non-existent up to this point.
If this were the truth, any set of parents who have ever adopted a child or used surrogacy would not be able to have a relationship with their child.

Enraged yet?
Yeah, me too.

You know what, folks?  She's wrong.  She's just wrong.  Breast feeding mothers do have a unique bond with their children.  You know why?  Because all parents have a unique bond with their children.  It doesn't matter where you come from or how you do it - you're always going to be tied to that little life you are so so so lucky to be a part of.  To suggest that a mother who gives her child a bottle (whether it be all of the time or some of the time) is less of a parent is...misguided at best.

Do I wish I had the option for additional paid maternity leave?  Heck yeah.  It also would have been awesome not to have to dip into my own vacation time in order to take as much maternity leave as I did (because Lord knows that is not a vacation.)  It's awesome that this woman is trying to lobby for that.  But leave the attachment I have to my son out of it.

If the government allowed me to take a year (even a year where they paid my full salary and benefits), I still wouldn't have done it.

And that doesn't make me a bad mother.
On the contrary - I think knowing my limits, knowing what works for me and my family, and knowing what I'm willing to do and where I draw the line?

That makes me a great mother.