Judging from Facebook and also a few real life conversations, I’m pretty sure the world’s population is going to triple this summer, with an abnormally large spike in August. I’m glad so many of you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
So, I’m about to do that thing that no first time (or anytime) parent likes. Give unsolicited advice. However, I feel like I can get away with it for two reasons:
- It’s passive advice. I’m putting it in this blog. If you want it, cool. If not, then just don’t read any further. Simple as that.
- I had a summer baby. Like, literally, last summer. Which is still hard for me to believe, but I also think gives me a tiny bit of street cred.
That baby I had last summer. All new and shiny.
Ok, so onward with the advice. Just so you know, this isn’t going to be about specific products or anything like that, but things I just wish I had known or found to be truly important in keeping my sanity during one of the craziest times in my entire life.
- Train yourself to fall asleep quickly. You know all those dumb people that tell you to “get your sleep now”? Don’t waste your time with that BS. Last time I checked, Sleep Banks don’t exist. Instead figure out how to go from awake to asleep in 5 minutes or less. Because seriously, sometimes all that baby is going to give you is 30 minutes to sleep, and if it takes you that long or longer (in my case) to fall asleep, you’re going to be one super extra tired momma.
- Get a comfy couch and chair. Look, whether you like it or not, someone at some point is going to end up sleeping on the couch. Make sure your couch is so awesome you don’t really mind that at all. Also, get a REALLY comfy chair, especially if you’re nursing. I thought I could get away with just using the chairs I have. Not true. One week in, and I had emergency purchased a lovely, reclining rocking chair. Breastfeeding mommas will spend more time in that chair than you thought humanly possible. So make it count.
- Find your favorite walking routes, and try to make sure they include coffee shops. The only thing that helped me keep my sanity was walking about five miles a day. Once I found a few routes that had food and coffee, things got infinitely better. I could fuel up and get a few adult words in with the folks that worked there. Plus, when you’re five seconds from your breaking point, it’s nice to hear people gush over your baby. It makes things feel a little bit better. That being said, I feel so, so sorry for moms of winter babies in Colorado.
- You think you want to “be by ourselves the first two weeks so we can get to know baby”? Think again. Peter and I talked about asking people to wait a few weeks before coming to visit so I could heal and we could get to know our new family. I’m so glad we reconsidered. We needed more help in those first two weeks than I’ve ever needed in my whole life. Thankfully, E has the best grandparents in the world, and they were totally up to the task.
- If you’re going to take any classes, make sure they’re ones that help you AFTER the baby is born. Look, that baby is going to come out in whatever way it pleases. Then, you have a baby. And they let you take it home, no questions asked. It cries, it won’t eat, it eats too much and then gets gassy and cries more, it wakes up at 2 a.m. for no reason at all. I wish I had found some classes that gave me more techniques to try to calm a crying baby. After a while, I felt like I had exhausted my repertoire. But thankfully, that’s when Teeny would step in and say, “Have you tried _____?” Usually, I hadn’t. Sometimes it would work, sometimes it wouldn’t, but at least I felt like I had one more tool in my arsenal.
- Embrace change, uncertainty, and being totally out of control. Your life isn’t yours anymore — it’s ours. That means there’s another (strong) voice in the room that may just decide you aren’t going to the grocery store this afternoon. Or hanging out with your friends. Or finishing that bite of sandwich. The quicker you can figure out ways to cope with having zero control over your life anymore, the better.
- Don’t buy one of those beautiful cribs with the solid wood headboard. This is for when baby gets a little older. Those hollow sounding thunks and booms in the middle of the night? That’s your baby’s beautiful head getting bashed on that headboard. And as far as I can tell, there isn’t a bumper product on the market that can save their little noggin.* Ugh.
Alright, folks. There it is. I’m sure there are more (of course there are more), but these seemed to stick out right now in my still–although not as badly–sleep deprived mind. You’re in for a wild, beautiful ride. Hang on with both hands and don’t let go.
*If you know of something please, for the love, let me know. E’s head thanks you.
My baby now! Pulling up on everything, like a boss.