I just returned from a full Labor Day weekend at my parents’ lake house. I should be feeling pretty relaxed — and I am — after spending the last few days enjoying the warm weather, boat rides, and an extra couple pair of hands helping keep the girls occupied.
But something happened on Friday that hasn’t happened in over a decade: I got stung by a yellow jacket. Margot was taking a nap, and I sat on a lounge chair out on the deck ready to relax with Crazy Rich Asians. I didn’t even see the little jerk; I only felt the sting on my inner arm, and quickly swatted it away from me before it landed on the deck. Its stinger was still stuck in my arm as I stomped on him with my sandal.
This jerk right here
I quickly went inside to find something to scrape the stinger off of my arm; I remembered learning as a kid that you should use something blunt like a credit card to scrape it out instead of using tweezers. I also remembered that time is of the essence to make sure the stinger doesn’t stay in too long, so I grabbed a magazine and used one of the cardboard inserts to scrape out the stinger.
It stung, of course, for a couple of hours. Then the area started to get swollen and red. I put ice on it to help with the pain and swelling, but ultimately this was just the beginning. I posted updates on my Instastories throughout the day (and kept making this face obviously).
While the pain of the sting subsided by the end of the day Friday, the area on my arm seemed to be getting redder, itchier, and warmer. I had a hard time sleeping that night.
Stella had her first day of kindergarten on Monday, and I’ve had several people ask me about how I’m feeling about all of this. I still remember the first day Zack and I dropped her off at her sweet little preschool when she was a spunky two-year-old girl; my eyes welled as we walked back to our car, and she was only going to be there for a couple of hours two mornings a week.
I thought I would be a goner as kindergarten approached. This would be the first time in Stella’s life that she would be at school for a full day, five days a week. From this point on, things weren’t going to be the same.
Yet Monday arrived and honestly, my mind was racing with all of the things we had to accomplish before getting out the door, the thoughts of making sure we arrived early so we could get a parking spot, all of these details, that I didn’t get emotional. And to be honest, Stella has been under such a sassy spell lately that the thought of her getting back into a school routine and not having her be my responsibility for a few hours felt like a weight being lifted.
Does that make me a bad mom? Because it’s hard to admit that I wasn’t clinging to her Monday morning, giggling with her over breakfast, and then gently doing her hair with ABBA’s “Slipping through my Fingers” playing in the background. Continue reading “The emotion and elation of the new school year”
Back-to-school commercials are flooding our television, and the back corner of Target is stocked with notebooks, glue sticks, and lunch boxes. It’s sad to say, but we’re already somehow on the fast track to fall — and a new school year.
And soon, our Stella will be starting kindergarten. Excuse me while I spend the next few weeks trying to fathom how quickly this day snuck up on us. It feels like I’ve been mentally preparing for this day for the last couple of years, ever since the term “kindergarten roundup” first entered my parental orbit.
Earlier this year, we registered Stella for kindergarten, and signed up our family to attend kindergarten roundup in the spring.
Along with filling out a questionnaire about her skill levels and personality, we also needed to make sure we brought some very important pieces of documentation:
Proof of residency (in the form of a utility bill, for example)
Proof of birth (an original birth certificate)
Proof of vaccinations
Fortunately for us, Stella’s early spring birthday meant that we were already scheduled for her annual wellness checkup prior to roundup. We were able to make sure Stella was up-to-date on her vaccinations and request the paperwork her school would need from us. I Vaccinate provides several helpful resources for immunization schedules and Michigan school requirements, based on information from the CDC and Michigan Department of Health and Human Services.
Making sure our daughters are up-to-date on their vaccinations is something that my husband and I agree is one of the most important things we can do as parents. Not just for their health, but also for the health of others. Continue reading “Getting ready for the brand new world of kindergarten”
I think that one of the biggest fears parents can have is thinking that they can’t possibly love another baby the way they love their firstborn. It can seem unfathomable. Of course, everyone who has been there says that the heart grows and expands in a way you didn’t think was possible. And, of course, they were exactly right.
When Margot was born, Stella had been an only child for close to four years. We knew she was old enough to remember what it was like to be the center of attention, and it would be a big change of pace for her. Fortunately for us, she was so excited to welcome her new sister that she took everything in stride. And she loves her so darn much.
Still, their age difference is enough that there are many things Stella is wanting and able to do that Margot can’t do quite yet. And that’s why we’ve made it a focus to do special one-on-one things with Stella. About a month after Margot was born, Zack took Stella to a special daddy-daughter dance event at play. in East Lansing. He also took her to see Paw Patrol Live at Wharton Center.
Once Margot was big enough for me to be able to leave her for short periods of time, I would do things like take Stella to get her nails done at the salon, or go see a dance performance. Most recently, we had our special date to see “The Lion King” musical together.
And this week, Margot and I are now getting our turn to have a lot of special one-on-one time while Stella is up north with my in-laws.
A year and a half after becoming a mom of two, I have realized that while I love doing things all together as a family, there is really something to be said for this one-on-one time.
It’s 1993. I’m watching the VHS of “Aladdin” at my childhood home, and as a 90s kid in the golden age of Disney movies, I was just as excited about the previews for what was to come. After “The Little Mermaid,” “Beauty and the Beast,” and “Aladdin,” what could possibly follow? Enter “The Lion King.”
That’s when I first heard “The Circle of Life,” and I’ll never forget the feeling that swelled inside of me. It’s the same feeling I felt when I saw the film on the big screen in 1994.
And it’s the same feeling I felt over 20 years later when I saw Disney’s “The Lion King” on stage at the Wharton Center Friday night. I had my five-year-old daughter with me, attending her first Broadway show. Talk about the circle of life.
There’s even a special Snapchat filter for the show!
For the last two-plus decades, the Tony Award winner for Best Musical, Best Director, Best Choreography, Best Scenic Design, and Best Costume Design has been leaving audiences spellbound across the world. The three-week engagement at the Wharton Center, running through July 29, marks the third time the show has been performed in East Lansing.
As Stella approached her fifth birthday, she began talking about wanting to get her ears pierced. I was open to the idea, and started showing her videos of the process so she could wrap her head around it. When she turned five, she said, “I’m going to wait until I’m six.” But in the last month or two, she started bringing it up again, and didn’t seem spooked by the idea anymore.
I knew that no matter when we ended up taking her to get her ears pierced, we would be going to a professional piercer. It seems like a strange juxtaposition, a young girl and a tattoo and piercing studio; but in doing my research, there were so many reasons why this decision made the most sense. This is a great read from TIME, and here’s another one from Scary Mommy.
Tattoo and piercing studios go to great lengths to make sure everything is done in a safe, clean, and informative environment. For piercings, a needle is used instead of the piercing gun commonly found at places at the mall. One big problem about those piercing guns: they can’t actually be sterilized. And there is also the question of piercing experience.
Now look, I have five holes in my ears that came from Claire’s at the mall, just like almost any other person my age with pierced ears. That even includes my upper cartilage on one ear. It was the norm, and seemed safe and easy. I was fortunate to not have any complications with my ear piercings. I have also heard enough horror stories about the piercing guns that it was important to me to choose the safest option for our daughter.
When parenting stops being polite and starts getting real. That’s what I posted with a photo of two books we just received from Amazon to help us answer some of the important questions Stella has started to ask us. And, to facilitate conversations about topics that haven’t even come up yet.
Surprisingly, not a lot of questions came up when I was pregnant with Margot. At three and a half, Stella’s explanation that her baby sister was “going to open [my] door and walk down the stairs” to get out of my tummy was hilarious, adorable, and accurate enough that it didn’t warrant more accurate or specific details at the time. Still, I’ve been proud to use and teach her words like vagina instead of anything cutesy.
In the last year or so, she has really started to notice and make remarks about bodies, especially hers and mine. She certainly learned a lot about babies and breastfeeding thanks to her little sister. And she often asks me why I look a certain way compared to her. I do my best to explain things as matter-of-factly and simply for her to understand.
A few days ago, a Facebook memory popped up from 2014 that showed Stella walking unassisted in our family room. At 14 months, our little gal was finally independently mobile.
It was a reminder of a big milestone that Margot hasn’t accomplished yet. At nearly 17 months, her favorite method of getting around is still crawling. She has been cruising on furniture and window sills and walls for several months, but hasn’t taken the leap into independence. Continue reading “You have to crawl before you walk, but for how long?”
Before Stella was born, we registered for a Boppy nursing pillow. It seemed like a must-have item and I certainly saw the value in having one, as I hoped and planned to breastfeed her. I didn’t realize until shortly after she was born that I would become so attached to this object, out of love and appreciation, but also necessity.
Stella at three weeks old
We even ended up buying a second one to keep in our family room, because I found myself trying to carry the Boppy pillow along with holding Stella, up and down the stairs, depending on where we were settling in for a feeding. The Boppy pillows were a mainstay in the nursery and family room until Stella weaned herself completely, around 15 months old.
At that point, we tucked the Boppy pillows away in a closet upstairs. After months of time together, they were no longer necessary for me to survive. That is, until Margot was born. That time, I wised up and brought a Boppy with me to the hospital. My arms thanked me.
The Boppy pillows were once again a constant presence in our family room and our bedroom, before it moved on to Margot’s nursery. Because Margot never really took a bottle, I was even more tethered to her and subsequently the Boppy pillow. I only wish I could have worn it around myself like an inner tube.
But in the last month, we have put the Boppy in the family room away. The one that sits on the ottoman of the glider chair in the nursery is mostly in the way now. At 16 months old, Margot barely cares about nursing anymore. After struggling with bottles, Margot took to sippy cups and cow’s milk like a pro. Suddenly, the lack of independence I felt in her first year of life completely shifted to her not really caring about or needing me (in that way) much at all. It feels strange.
I feel proud and amazed that I was able to nurse my girls for this long, about 30 months of my life between the two of them. Recently, I was curious if someone has ever tracked or quantified the amount of time a mother spends nursing her baby.
One mother did, and according to her calculations, she spent 35,000 minutes (or over 580 hours) providing breast milk to her son, between nursing and pumping, in one year.
Multiplying that by my two girls, and adding months on top of their first year, it seems by those calculations that I easily spent over 1,000 hours of my life breastfeeding. Wow.
While overwhelming and difficult at so many times, breastfeeding was something I wanted to do and feel fortunate I could do. In the first few days and weeks with Stella, I couldn’t imagine the light at the end of the tunnel. It was painful (at first) and exhausting, and many times, it felt as isolating as it was rewarding. I made milestone goals at three and six months, and by then, nursing became easier and less demanding. Before I knew it, a year had gone by in a flash.
With Margot, I knew what to expect from those early weeks in the trenches, and the transition back to a human milk truck was less jarring and emotional. Still, what I learned from the first time around didn’t prepare me for a baby who wouldn’t take to a bottle. With Stella, it had been deceivingly easy.
I learned pretty quickly that I needed to be flexible, and also way less modest about nursing. I distinctly remember going to special events and nursing Stella in a chair in the ladies room. Worst yet, I remember nursing her while standing inside a STALL one time during a birthday event. I look back at that early mom version of myself and think why, why, why?
The second time around, I had Stella to motivate me to get us out of the house and do activities instead of holing up inside the house. I became much more comfortable nursing in public in any scenario (thanks in large part to my Milk Snob nursing cover, which didn’t exist with Stella), from Margot’s baptism to a trip to Meijer Gardens:
And even though there were some tough times and it felt like I’d be in this phase of life forever, here we are. Margot is 16 months. I’ve been able to wear normal bras and shirts and dresses that don’t require a stretchy neckline or buttons for the last several months. I’m researching if non-profits in the area will take used Boppy pillows.
Those Boppy pillows. What is it about getting rid of the pillows that gives me a sense of sadness? I think it is because the pillows are a physical representation of a big part of my life for the last several years. They have always been around, but now they’ve served their purpose.
I’m saying goodbye to this phase of motherhood, this emotional and exhausting and amazing period of time that felt so long when I was in the thick of it, but is actually such a relatively brief time in their lives. There are things I definitely won’t miss about it. After growing two babies inside my body and then being their sole sustenance for many months of their early lives, my body is back to being my own. It took a couple of years after Stella was born to feel back to myself, so it might not be until next year that I will feel that way once again.
I will say that I will miss the connection, and the feeling of empowerment, and the way this particular part of motherhood especially taught me to look beyond my needs and myself for the sake of my daughters.
And I will miss views like this:
A baby girl in my lap, fingers intertwined, nursing to sleep. Relaxed. Content. Safe.
Bye bye, Boppy. Bye bye, Babyland. We’re on the fast train to Toddlertown.
I’ll never forget all of the wonderful things our friends and family did for us after we had Stella five years ago. One gesture that has stayed with me is when my friend Danielle came to visit our house and brought us homemade breakfast burritos. We warmed them up the next morning, after a long and sleepless night, and they were the most perfect and delicious thing.
For the last five years, I’ve continued to pay it forward by bringing breakfast burritos to other friends who have just had babies.
The genius of the breakfast burritos is that more often than not, friends and family bring over casseroles, Crock Pot meals, and sweets when they come visit. These are all amazing things and so helpful and necessary during the craziness of those early weeks of parenthood. But a good breakfast is so important to help fuel up and stay energized, particularly after a tough night.
I also love that the breakfast burritos are individually portioned, easy to freeze and then heat up, and can be eaten one-handed. No utensils necessary!
My friend Kristin and her husband Josh just got home after having their fourth son, and with it being Cinco de Mayo, it especially seemed like the perfect opportunity to whip up some breakfast burritos for their family.
