in which i emerge from underneath the technological rock where i have been held hostage.

Posted on August 6, 2008 - Filed Under just sayin', mommyhood

Forgive me readers, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last post.

And there’s a really good reason for it, I swear. I mean, aside from the baby and the toddler and the pregnancy hormones and the tired and the boops.

I’ve just gone through my second power cord in as many months (chalk it up to computer in bed and the wootsy angle of the thing that goes into the other thing) and I’ve not had access to my beloved PowerBook. But just 20 minutes ago the doorbell did ring and lo! there was my package from Hong Kong containing my Brand! New! Powercord! And also a box from my friend Marty (thanks for the Medela bottles and the ModMum sling!). HOORAY!

So, while I’ve not been without access to a computer or Internet for the last two weeks, I have been without access to my blog because I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME REMEMBER MY WORDPRESS USERNAME AND PASSWORD. Le sigh.

In any event, the bitch is back. [Three snaps up in a Z formation!] And I have bullets until I can muster up the language for a *real* post. Also, I owe the New York City Moms Blog some serious posts, so bear with me.

Bullets:

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Oh the cheeks. Nomnomnomnom.

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Ice cream on a hot summer day. Also Nomnomnomnom.

4 Comments

what? i have a blawg?

Posted on July 23, 2008 - Filed Under mommyhood

I am seriously lacking in both time and motivation. Blogging seems like a distant memory. I have things I’d like to write about (nursing Clara, breaking up with friends, walking the fine line between regular postpartum crazies and postpartum KRAYZEE, watching The Mistah be Super Poppa, my unhealthy addiction to all things baby related on Discovery Health, and also Intervention and Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood (oh yes, I went there), but I am so very tired and so very unmotivated.

Is this blog neglect normal after the second (third? fourth? tenth?) baby? When Sam was newborn all we had to do all day was nurse and hang out in bed. With Clara, if she’s not nursing, I’m trying to sneak a shower or play with Sam or eat something. Or sleep. SLEEEP, oh how I miss thee.

Will you settle for bulleted updates? I’m afraid it’s the best I can do for you, for all 5 of you that bother to swing by these days (and I heart you all. Truly).

14 Comments

this is the difference

Posted on July 16, 2008 - Filed Under just sayin'

When Sam was just 3 weeks old, I’m pretty sure we hardly left the house. Except for trips to the pediatrician. Maybe we walked to the end of the block. I was still hopped up on Percocets and hobbling around. Sam was wee and deemed Too Innocent and Frail for the Outside World. Seriously…I think it was at least six weeks before we took him to Starbucks, not to mention the two months before he went out for a ride in the car.

But with Clara… shit, we just plopped her in her carseat and drove to Massachusetts for an impromptu mini-vacation. Never even thought twice about it. And she was a champ in the car, too. I even did some creative nursing in a moving vehicle.

We spent 5 days at Aunt K and Uncle G’s house in western Massachusetts. While, for me,  go anywhere is really just to look at other people’s stuff while nursing the baby, Sam and The Mistah and Aunt K had a blast.

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We spent an afternoon at this giant public park that had an awesome water feature, tons of jungle gyms spread out over acres, paddle boats, a train, bumper boats, and a petting zoo.

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Being a true city boy, Sam perfected his dog walking skillz.

 

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Sam helped water the grass. And himself.

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Took a ride in the wheelbarrow.

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Dude, child labor is cheap. And adorable!

On our third day, we all took a trip to the local Whole Foods. The baby was sleeping her car seat and Sam was having a blast driving the car attached to the shopping cart (another gem of suburban bliss? You don’t see those in the city. Nor do you ever see the words “Buy One, Get One Free.” But I digress…). We passed by the local microbrewery handing out samples of their beers (delicious!). We walked by the local pizzeria offering slices of their organic pizza (also delicious!). We tasted some local creamery ice cream (mmmm!). Seriously, this was like A REAL DATE: drinks, dinner, and dessert. I sure wish we had a Whole Feeds in our neighborhood. Then we wouldn’t have to pay Manhattan dinner prices!

After our time in The Country, it almost seems cruel to bring the kids back to the city. Our visit made me long for sending the kids out into the backyard after breakfast and just putting plates out on the porch for lunch. For the kind of sleep only achieved by spending an entire day outdoors running and playing and exploring. For setting up the Pack ‘n Play on the front porch and just making sure the baby is in the shade. For eating dinner outside. For farmstands and local produce.

But, just driving home last night in the twilight and seeing the city skyline and the twinkling lights on the Brooklyn Bridge, the glistening of the water in the wake of the Staten Island Ferry, the Empire State Building lit up in Yankee blue in honor of the Allstar Game, and serenity of Lady Liberty in the New York harbor…it’s great to be back home.

7 Comments

and on the 8th day He created cake

Posted on July 11, 2008 - Filed Under blogger love

I’ve save the best guest post for last. The family and I are all up in Massachusetts for an impromptu visit with Sam and Clara’s Aunt and Uncle. And nothing says family vacation like this delicious cake. I hope to be baking this over the weekend…assuming Clara lets go of the boob long enough.

*****

Hey everybody! Carly here guest blogging for Miss Liz while she does that whole taking care of baby(ies) thing. I always get a little nervous when I’m asked to guest blog because I totally don’t know what I’m doing. I really shouldn’t even be allowed to have a blog. Yet I have one and have for several years now. I guess if Scarlett Johansson can make a music cd, then I can have a blog.

So I thought I would write about what I know best. Food. And the eating of it. And also the making of it. This recipe is for a cake I recently tried at a friends house. It brought me to my knees and I may have wept at her feet and promised her a kidney should she ever need one.

She called it Coconut Key Lime Cake. So I guess I will also call it that. I shall start by saying that there are no actual pieces of coconut in this cake. Which is good because I do not care for the texture of coconut. It’s like when you’re at a picnic eating and all of a sudden you get a piece of grass stuck in your mouth or something. I do not dig the coconut flakes. I do, however, really dig the flavor.

So here are the ingredients involved in this delicious cake.

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So I mixed up the cake mix according to the directions on the box. I split the batter into two 9 inch round pans. My friend got super fancy and cut each one in half so that her cake had like 4 layers to it. I am not that fancy. I simply had two layers. Once the cakes have baked and cooled it is time to make your filling. The cream of coconut can be found on the aisle where all the drink mixers are kept. Coco Lopez is another brand I’ve heard of. Or shoot, get some Malibu rum out if you are feeling especially naughty.

So you know how when you bake a cake it forms a bit of a hump on the top? Well you will want to cut that hump off and make the cake as level as you can. This also helps it soak up the filling better. So I spooned many generous spoonfuls of the coconut syrup all over the cake. For measurement sakes lets say it was about a third of a cup total. Then I spread more generous amounts of the lime curd all over the cake. You can also use lemon curd if you can’t find lime curd. Or my sister used lemon pie filling when she made this cake. Get creative. The world is your oyster. But please, for the love of cake, don’t use oysters in this recipe at all.

Once you are done with your filling layer, put the other cake on top. Cut off the hump and repeat the filling process. Then set the cake in the fridge. And now we shall move on to the frosting.

I don’t suppose it matters when you make the frosting. You can make it while the cakes are baking. You can make it first. I ended up with a LOT of leftover frosting so you can either cut this recipe in half or just sit around eating spoonfuls of frosting. I won’t tell anyone.

I took two blocks of cream cheese that I had let soften on the counter. I put them into my Kitchen Aid mixer along with 1 cup of powdered sugar and two teaspoons of vanilla. You see that weird looking plastic bag of brown liquid in that photo? That is some fancy Mexican vanilla that my aunt shared with me. She had a big bottle of it and she blessed me with some. And boy am I happy she did. You just don’t know vanilla until you try good vanilla and not that 97 cents a bottle imitation crap I’m used to using.

I digress.

Now while you are mixing your powdered sugar, cream cheese, and vanilla you will want to squirt in some lime juice. You can use fresh squeezed or you can be lazy like me and use the kind in the plastic lime. It’s all good. I used about a tablespoon. Then I added about a tablespoon of coconut creme Coffee Mate. Now you all can just add a tablespoon of the coconut syrup that you already have on hand. I just happened to have this creamer because well… it rules. Makes my coffee oh so good. The point is to get some lime and some coconut flavor into your frosting. Mix it on a medium to high speed for a few minutes to get it all well blended. Then you can frost your cake.

Now when my friend served this cake to me she sliced up strawberries and laid them all over the top. And it was good. And I would have done the same except that I bought my ingredients about 5 days before I actually made the cake. And we all know what happens when you don’t use your strawberries right away… they mold. So the strawberries in that photo are all kinds of moldy and I promptly threw them away after taking that photo. And really, you don’t need them. They are just a bonus. Her cake was all about the presentation. Mine is all about taste. Because as you can see, the finished product looks ok. It’s not going to win any beauty contests. But just you wait until you take a bit of it. You might just be promising me one of your kidneys.

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5 Comments

when the levee breaks

Posted on July 6, 2008 - Filed Under just sayin', mommyhood

I have been through some shit this year. I have had to make decisions that may have hurt some people but were the right decisions for me and for my family. I have withdrawn from my social circle, from my friends, from activities that we used to enjoy. To say that it’s been a tough year would be an understatement.

The money, the move, the family, the family illnesses, the pregnancy and the sickness and the difficulties, the anxiety, the depression, the constant fear and worry and doubt and sense of failure and helplessness and hopelessness. Within the virtual walls of this blog, I’ve tried my very best to be open and honest, to stick with Keeping It Real. But there have been so many things that I haven’t been able to blog about, and these are the things that have eaten away at me, leaving behind a quivering, terrified carcass of the person I used to be.

I know that I have hurt my family and friends. But I could not, would not, cop to all of this mess. To speak it out loud and in person would be admitting to failure, to weakness. Instead, I withdrew. I don’t know how to explain this to my family and friends. I don’t know that I have to. Does justifying make it any less hurtful? What purpose would explanation serve other than to make me feel better?

I have been through some shit this year. For sure.

And yet, once I held this baby girl in my arms for the first time, it all just slipped away. It fell to the ground and scampered off to the corner. Finally. I cannot even begin to explain the sense of serenity and peace that came over me. Once I heard her chirping in the operating room, it all just slid away. I felt myself re-inhabit my own body, it was sudden and cold and and slow and shocking and like the missing piece just finally fit back in.

I spent a total of four days in the hospital. And although the second c-section was a more intense pain, it was shorter lived. I delivered Clara in the community hospital for the Chinatown neighborhood and the choices we made differ vastly from the norm of that community. I roomed in with Clara, I nurse. I spent four days holding her tiny, warm, smooshy body, nursing her and knowing, somehow, that this time I got it right.

I had the opportunity to bond with Clara in a way that I never had with Sam. The circumstances of Sam’s birth were so…traumatic, I was so shaken and beaten by his delivery. I was a new mom and everything scared me. The nursing was difficult and painful and all of it was so unexpected and daunting. But with Clara, it was all so relaxed. I knew she wasn’t going to die if I let her cry for another minute. I knew she would be just fine. And perhaps because I’ve done this before, that is why it was all so peaceful and wonderful.

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Now, I’m trying to adjust to the cluster feedings and the suckling for comfort and the exhaustion of life with a newborn. Sam has been a wonderful big brother and takes such care and interest in his baby sister. I feel so distant from my little boy and it breaks my heart. Thankfully, The Mistah is home for his summer break and has had some wonderful time with Sam. I miss my son.

The nature of caring for a newborn is so limiting of my time with Sam…and we’ve seen the changes in his temperament. Whether these changes are because of his age or because of the new addition, we’ll never know. I’m sure it’s a little from column A and a little from column B. The temper tantrums and hysterics are tiring and when we’re running of fumes, it’s hard to control our frustration. Sam has begun with Time Outs, except we have to hold him in his “naughty corner.” He doesn’t get it, but he will, eventually. We do not jump on the couch. We do not hit. We listen. We do what is asked.

Sam definitely is testing. When I am nursing his baby sister, he knows exactly what my physical limitations are–he knows I cannot get up and chase after him. The jumping on the couch, with this look in eye like, “I know you can’t do anything, so nanny-nanny-poo-poo!” The Mistah has become, out of necessity, The Punisher. The Enforcer.

But he is so good with his baby sister. He has offered to get her a pillow when she is resting. He brings her her blankie and tucks her in. One evening, she cried in her bassinet while we were sitting down for dinner. When Poppa told Sam that Clara was crying because she was hungry, Sam put a giant glop of mashed potatoes on his fork and held it out to her, “Want some?” When Sam and The Mistah come home from the park in the mornings, he busts through the front door asking “Clara, where are you?” Always looking for her. He likes to come in the bedroom and climb up on the bed when I am nursing her in bed.  He likes to hold her and give her kisses on her forehead and tickle her feet.

I have been through some shit this year. I have had to make decisions that may have hurt some people but were the right decisions for me and for my family. I have withdrawn from my social circle, from my friends, from activities that we used to enjoy.

Now, I begin again.

*****

I would like to thank you all for sticking by me this last year and holding me up with your love and friendship. When I walk into Clara’s room I am reminded of your kindness, of your generosity, of your friendship. I hope that I will be able to instill this sense of kindness and friendship and generosity and community in my children. Because without you all, we would be in a much, much different space. Thank you all. (If you are missing from this page, please let me know.) (**I also am trying to stay on top of sending thank you notes. If you haven’t received one, I am sorry. I either don’t have an address for you or I just plain suck.**)

I know it’s not all sunshine and puppy dogs from here on out, our family has a lot of rebuilding to do, The Mistah and I have some reconnecting to do, there will be more therapy, but I also know that it will be okay.

Because it has to be. 

16 Comments

and baby makes…a family.

Posted on July 2, 2008 - Filed Under just sayin'

Today’s guest post comes from the amazing Becca of Academomia. Not only is she a mom to the adorable Charlie and brewing Baby Deuce, but she’s also rocking out her PhD. Shit, I just complained about my nipples and this girl is getting ready to defend her dissertation and is traipsing across college campuses in heels. I bow down before thee, Becca.

*****

As I was whipping up a nutritiously dubious but cheap and satisfying dinner of Hamburger Helper for my little family tonight, a strangely urgent thought occurred to me: “I’m going to need a second frying pan!” You see, my husband and I are expecting our second baby boy in September and if he, we’ll call him Deuce as my husband likes to do, is anything like our first, Charlie, then I’m going to need to learn to cook for a crowd. Charlie has been known to ask for fourths when we have macaroni and cheese and today at the grocery store he ate two pieces of roast turkey deli meat and a piece of provolone cheese before I cut him off in the name of not spoiling his dinner. I can only imagine what trying to keep up with the appetites of two growing boys will be like.

Preparing for Charlie’s arrival was full of wonder and excitement. Every tiny onesie given to us was carefully washed–in Dreft–then folded carefully (and likely refolded and refolded again) and laid neatly in a drawer in the dresser I found at a yard sale and refinished for Charlie’s room. I agonized over the selection of the diaper bag, foolishly believing that there was one out there that didn’t actually look like a diaper bag. I sat in the rocking chair in Charlie’s nursery and stared at the unfamiliar things around me–a changing table, cloth diapers, a crib, impossibly tiny blankets folded and stacked on a shelf, ready to go–and tried to imagine what it would be like to have him snuggled against me. My husband and I (and it will kill him that I am admitting this) even pushed Charlie’s stroller around in our house once, amazed at the change to come in our lives.

The preparations for Deuce’s arrival have been considerably more pragmatic, mostly out of necessity–I have an active nineteen-month old boy to keep up with–but also out of experience–babies want only to be loved and cared for and very little equipment is necessary to meet their needs (although you wouldn’t know it from watching us trying to board an airplane these days). Clothes outgrown by Charlie are flung onto the guest room bed as I pass by the doorway to the room. Charlie is still sleeping in the crib we plan to use for the baby. There is no nursery to speak of because I am still on the fence about whether they will be sharing a room or not. I have spent almost no time researching baby products online. And I haven’t touched a single baby book (especially after What to Expect nearly sent me over the edge last time… NINE servings of fruits and vegetables? Do I look like a rabbit to you?).

The wonder of Charlie’s pregnancy has been replaced with an excitement that comes with knowing what it means to create a family, what it means to be everything to another human being, the sense of pride you feel at every achievement, from eye contact to drinking from a “big kid cup,” the satisfaction you feel when you yell “STOP!” in your firmest mommy-voice at your street-bound toddler and he comes screeching to a halt and timidly turns around to face you. And don’t get me started on that first sloppy baby-boy kiss.

I worried that I would lose the person I was when Charlie was born and it’s true, in some ways I am not the person I used to be (especially physically, ahem). It’s also true that I have mixed feelings about that, for example, I no longer have the same drive to advance my career that I once had, (it may be anti-feminist, but hanging out with your kid is FUN), but I truly hope I can get some of that back one day. But I have gained so much: patience, perspective, empathy, kindness, an innate ability to stick up for Charlie and myself without being rude that came out of nowhere (I still remember the first time I made a decision for Charlie that contradicted something a respected older family member–who was in the room–had said, I was so proud of myself and more than a little shocked at the respect I received as The Mother). And, let’s be honest, how many of us have learned to say “Oh, bummer! Let’s clean it up together!” when something spills all over the carpet instead of “SHIT not again!!”

But as much as Charlie has changed our lives, we have found that incorporating him into the activities we loved as a childless couple to be worthwhile and very enjoyable. We have travelled more in his nineteen months with us than we did in the first three years of our marriage. Charlie accompanied me to a professional conference in Washington D.C. He’s been canoeing. He saw Borat with me when he was two months old (don’t tell my mother-in-law). His presence on our usual weekend Sonic runs has only made the experience more memorable (ever heard a seventeen month old try to say tater tot?). I am really looking forward to having Deuce along with us on our family adventures.

So although I don’t feel the same way about this pregnancy, the questions, the manic preparation, the staring at my big belly wondering what it would all be like, I am just as excited. Like the deeper, more familiar love that eventually replaces the fiery butterfly feelings in a romantic relationship, the sense of wonder and mystery that kept me awake at night during Charlie’s pregnancy has been replaced by a deep happiness that comes from knowing when I think about the new face that will be joining our happy little family (in less than 15 weeks Holy Moly) and all the fun that is to come.

2 Comments

coming up for air

Posted on June 30, 2008 - Filed Under mommyhood

It’s been two weeks since Baby Clara was born and already it feels as though I were never pregnant, as if I hadn’t just spent the last 10 months barfing multiple times a day, as though I weren’t a moody, KRAYZEE, nut job (except The Mistah would beg to differ). Nature is a wicked thing…how we, as mothers, are genetically designed to only remember the wide-eyed wonder and smooshy wonderful. How quickly we forget.

Clara’s birth was such a wildly different experience than Sam’s. As you know, I spent a long time agonizing between going for a VBAC or ultimately scheduling a c-section. It would seem that my children don’t like to come when called, so both were delivered via c-section.

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On the Monday of Clara’s birth, to say I was COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT and EXTRAORDINARILY ANXIOUS would be a bit of an understatement. But the whole thing, from start to finish was both surreal and almost relaxing. Once I checked in to the hospital and got my ID bracelet, I was lead to a prep room to slide out of my skivvies and don the uber-sexy hospital gown. I lay there on the bed shivering and LOSING MY SHIT. The nurses were all so nice and everyone kept reassuring me that this delivery would be dramatically different from Sam’s.

Sam’s birth, two years earlier, was late in the night and after a grueling 24 hours of hard labor and pushing. Sam’s delivery was via emergency c-section after a classic failure to progress. Sam’s delivery was fast and everything we had hoped for was so quickly exchanged for getting the baby out now. The Mistah never knew that Sam was out until he heard a cry across the room and saw our son lying alone on a table, naked. I was too out of it to hold my son until 18 hours later. I was exhausted and pumped full of drugs and confused and shaking.

But Clara’s birth…oh, it was beautiful.

Once in the operating room, I received my spinal anesthesia. I sat straddling the bed and arching my back in a kind of seated Cat Pose from my yoga days, with my OB hugging me and the whole room of supportive medical staff: wonderful and kind residents, the nicest and most soothing-voiced anesthesiologist, and finally my husband. Once the anesthesia took hold — which was fast! My legs went warm and tingly within a minute — I was positioned on the table and the drape went up. My normally low blood pressure dropped even lower and I got the shakes. I never did too well with certain types of recreational drugs because I tend to freak out a bit…and with the spinal anesthesia, much was the same. At one point, I felt I had an itch on my right foot. AND THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD DO ABOUT IT. And that’s exactly the kind of thing that freaks me out. If I know you’re touching me and I can’t feel it? Freak! Out! So you can imagine what my anxiety level was.

I had a Bear Hugger, this kind of blow up plastic thing that pumped warm air over me blowing and The Mistah and I made jokes about where we could pick one up for home (I am always cold). I was holding on the IV pole with my right hand and shaking so hard. Trying to take deep breaths and relax was tough. Oh, and the puking. What can I say? I’m a puker. I definitely yakked a few times once I was being prepped on the operating table — is it ironic that what I barfed up was the anti-nausea medicine they made me choke down earlier? I kept making The Mistah talk to me so I could focus on him and try to block out all the freaky sensations and not let my anxiety take over.

And then I looked at The Mistah and asked, “Who let a bird into the operating room?”

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No lie. I heard what I was a bird squawking and then…VERY SUDDENLY and somewhat surprisingly slowly it occurred to me that that was no bird, that was our baby girl. She was out, she was here. I looked up to the top of the drape and saw tiny red arms and legs flash by and heard my OB say that the baby was out. The room was filled with warmth and light and relaxation and the beautiful noise of my daughter’s cries…

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14 Comments

help for the helpful, part 2

Posted on June 28, 2008 - Filed Under blogger love, mommyhood

YAY! Part 2 of help for the helpful from Jezer of JezeWhiz! If you haven’t already, be sure to check out part 1.

Running with the theme of help for the helpful: Interestingly, my mother has been here for the full month of June. And it’s only just now that she’s beginning to get on my nerves. I certainly know that I never could have made it these last 30 days without her help, she’s been a big help in so many ways. But frankly, I’m quite surprised I haven’t lost my patience with her yet. This morning I think I could’ve shown her the door once or twice, but that’s more to do with the TWO HOURS OF SLEEP I got last night and less to do with, you know…her.

Grandma Lady leaves on Monday morning before sunrise, and I’m sure by lunchtime I’ll be crying in my soup and wondering how in the hell I am ever going to handle caring for two children?

*****

We’re talking about ways to be helpful to your friend who has just given birth. In Part 1, I gave you a few ideas for reaching out to the mom who lives far away. Here are some ideas for friends and family members who live near the new mom:

Remember That It’s Not About You.* Please go back and read Part 1’s first and most important principle, and then Perform a Needs Assessment: Does this family have other children? Do they have family visiting from out of town? Did the birth happen earlier than expected? Is mom breastfeeding or bottle-feeding or both? Is she cloth-diapering or using disposables? What other special needs are there? Let these needs guide your actions.

Offer your services: Offer to run errands, pick up school-age kids from school or take older preschoolers out for a few hours. If you are a very close friend or relative and the new mom is open to the idea of letting you get all up in her territory, then do some cleaning, wash dishes, or run a couple loads of laundry. If she’s in super-mama-dog mode, offer to act as her receptionist for a couple of days while she holes up in the bedroom or den with her baby. Answer the door, field phone calls, and help her keep a written log of gifts and visitors that she’ll want to send thank-you notes to later. If she’s already started a thank-you list, offer to address envelopes.

And speaking of thank-you notes, a good friend INSISTS that the new mom does NOT under ANY circumstances write her a thank-you note. Normally, I am a big ol’ ugly stickler for thank-you notes, but when you’re barely managing to get your teeth brushed each day, the mere thought of stringing together some thoughtful and coherent words and writing them in good handwriting is just too much. No matter what you give or do for your friend, make it unmistakingly clear that you will be pissed if she writes you a thank you note. She’s got way more important things to be spending her time on. Like showering.

About Visiting the Hospital or the Home:

Bring food, but read this first: Ask if there is anything in particular that the new family is hungry for. Don’t forget to find out if they adhere to a vegetarian, vegan, Kosher, or other specific diet. My sister-in-law called the night that we brought Al home to ask if she could bring us a meal. I think she suggested some take-out from our favorite steak house. But after two days of well-balanced, yet bland meals in the hospital, my husband and I immediately looked at each other and sighed, “Pizza!”

“Really? Just pizza?” She repeated.

That was one delicious pizza.

But.

Yes, there’s a but. I was breastfeeding. While Alex is a tomato and cheese fiend now, he wasn’t so much as a newborn. We soon learned that most tomato dishes and almost all dairy would rip his little bottom to shreds. I love cheese almost more than I love my mother, but I gave up all dairy during most of the 14 months that I nursed him. That’s love, y’all.

If you are going to bring food to a breastfeeding mom, be aware that many ingredients may upset her baby’s tummy. Garlic, dairy, onions, bell peppers, broccoli, cauliflower and acidic fruits and vegetables are especially notorious. Chocolate can also be iffy. That right there is proof that there is no fairness in the world.

There was a particular dish that one of my friends brought over right after Al was born. The Mr. loved it because it reminded him of turkey and dressing, his favorite meal in the world. I liked it because it was food. And it didn’t give my baby a tummy ache. It’s easy and it’s quick:

Easy Cornbread Chicken Casserole Thingy

1 package cornbread mix (+ ingredients needed to prepare cornbread)

2 cups (more or less) cooked and shredded chicken (canned chicken works fine)

1 can cream of chicken soup (The dairy ingredients in canned creamed soups have been so severely processed that they don’t even register as real dairy in a baby’s digestive tract.)

1. Mix chicken with soup and pour into a medium casserole dish.

2. Prepare cornbread batter according to package directions.

3. Pour cornbread batter over chicken mixture.

4. Bake at 350° until cornbread topping is done.

Sometimes I add sauteed chopped onions and poultry seasoning to the chicken mixture to make it extra-fancy.

Or, consider bringing a tray of cold cuts with a variety of breads, crackers, and condiments. Cut up fruits and veggies are also nice, and these are all easy to eat one-handed.

As always, the rule of thumb is just to be thoughtful. Be aware of the family’s needs and especially the new mom’s needs, and you won’t go wrong.

*Several years ago, my stepmother gave me The Purpose-Driven Life for Christmas. I never read any further than the first page, but I do remember that the opening sentence stated, “It’s not about you.” I often repeat that sentence as my mantra when I’m tempted to slip into self-centeredness. Like, every 3 minutes or so.

4 Comments

how motherhood hasn’t changed me

Posted on June 27, 2008 - Filed Under blogger love, mommyhood

Today’s guest post comes from the fabulous Julie of The Calm Before the Stork — an incredible woman, mother, and blog friend. Some of you may remember her as one of my angels — she and Liz organized my virtual shower.

*****

You know all those great sentimental articles people write about how motherhood has changed them — for the better of course? Today, I’m painfully aware of how I haven’t changed.

For example, I recently started working again, from home. This month, I took on one too many projects, from one too many clients. I should have said no to the second client, but I just couldn’t. It’s a charity. I’ve worked for them for years, four times a year, writing their newsletter. They hired a temp when I gave birth, but they didn’t like her. Last quarter, I worked just a little bit because babycare made scheduling and showing up for interviews impossible. This quarter, I thought, I have (some) childcare, I’m ready, I can handle this, bring it on.

Oopsiedoodle.

While I’m madly scrambling to get one project done on deadline in four weeks, I’m plain ignoring the fact that I have this other job to do, and only three weeks to do it. Oh, and that I am caring for a six-month-old.

Until the other day when I realized I now only had 1-1/2 weeks left to get the articles written for the charity, and due to an email snafu which I’d also just plain ignored, I didn’t even have the list of story ideas yet. And I’m only part-way through the pregnancy book project, deadline now in less than three weeks.

Commence freak-out.

I wanted to be the person I used to be. The pre-mom me who swooped in like supergirl and handled all tasks with aplomb, handed in on time or early…

The thing is, this is exactly who I used to be. A friend reminded me today–when I called to complain–that my habit is precisely to sign up for more work than I can handle, freak out, cry, and live on the adrenaline until I survive the wave, all the while making my husband suffer through my anxieties, and explaining that I MUST take the work when it comes because such is the life of a freelancer, and my clients NEED me.

It’s just that now there’s a baby on top. A baby who does not like to play alone on a mat while I answer emails or read manuscripts. A baby who chews on the phone cord, pulls the keyboard off my desk, practices his yodeling skills while I try to multi-task with him on my lap. A baby I miss terribly when I hand him off and I’m working, even though, frankly, the mental stimulation of work is more satisfying than I’d like to admit.

* * *

And then there’s the things that have changed, that also aren’t so Hallmark-y.

I had no idea becoming a mom would hurt so much. I’m so emotionally susceptible, I can’t stand any TV shows or movies where a child is in any kind of danger. That episode of Lost recently where the baby cried and cried? I had to leave the room. It’s surreal.

Also, I play this weird sado-masochistic game with myself where, while my baby boy is sleeping, I imagine walking out the door. I don’t do it, mind you. I just picture myself doing it. Makes my heart race and my stomach churn, every time.

* * * * *

There must be some ways I’ve changed for the better, right? There must be… errrr… well, maybe my LIFE is better with Jonah in it. Yes. But, wait, I will say this: People tell me I’m more calm, quiet, satisfied with the day-to-dayness than I used to be. Not that I can’t get all in a tizzy, especially about stroller shopping.

Becoming a mom has slowed me down, compared to before. It’s a satisfying weight, ballast. Those who know me know that the name of my blog is meant to be a joke. There was almost never a “calm” before my “stork.” But, even as I do sometimes obsess over sleep, vaccines, my diet and his, the perfect toy… there has been a little bit of one, after.

*****

So tell me, how has motherhood changed you? How hasn’t it changed you?

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help for the helpful — part 1

Posted on June 25, 2008 - Filed Under blogger love, mommyhood

Today’s guest post comes from the amazing Jezer of JezeWhiz, mom to the delicious Al.

*****

First of all, thanks to the amazing Liz for the opportunity to hang out. Forgive me if I seem a little nervous, though, because I’m not accustomed to writing for an audience of more than 4.

It seems that the whole entire internet has either just brought home a new baby or is preparing for a new arrival. The rest of us get to revel in the joy of the expanded family, covet a sniff of newborn head, and ogle adorable photos before we return to our riveting accounts of diet woes and adventures in paci-rehab.

If you’re anything like me, you’re thinking back on those days when your own baby/ies were brand new. You’re reminded of those painful, hormonal, almost psychotic, sleep-deprived days and nights when you wondered just what you had gotten yourself into.

I’m not the only one, right?

When my son was born, our family and friends offered plenty of help and support. We live in the South, where births and deaths and everything in between are greeted with a mass convergence on the family’s home by friends, family members, church members, and neighbors bearing gifts, food, and baby-hungry arms. All of the thought and attention was greatly appreciated, but I have to be honest: Some of the help was priceless, while other efforts were not so much, and in a few cases, the attempts to be helpful actually added to our stress.

And that is how on Al’s second evening at home, I found myself hidden away in the bedroom, gingerly perched against pillows with a 7-pound toothless piranha attached to my boob, an ice pack in my pants, and 12 guests in my living room. I vowed that from that day forward, I would do whatever it took to always be a thoughtful and helpful friend to other new moms.

Part of this vow includes helping other friends help their new-mom friends, and that’s why I’m here now.

What most of my family and friends didn’t realize was that childbirth had turned me into an old mama dog whose instincts told her hide away with her pup and growl at curious visitors who dared to come near. OK, so I didn’t really growl, but I wanted to on more than one occasion. Of course, not every new mom is like me, and so we come to the very first and most important principle of being a priceless friend in the wake of childbirth:

Honor the new mother’s wishes and needs. Be considerate of what the new mother needs most to comfortably and successfully care for her new baby, regardless of what you would want or what you think she needs. Just as all pregnancies and childbirth experiences are different, all mothers of new babies have different physical, emotional, and environmental needs. If you’re not sure what your friend wants or needs, just ask her.

Keeping that in mind, here are a few thoughts for friends and family members who live far away. These ideas apply to most of us who have befriended a fellow blogger who happens to live on the other side of the continent:

Never underestimate the power of an encouraging word. Sure, comment on the post about her latest breastfeeding woes and swoon over the photos of the new little one, but don’t forget to send a private personal message every now and then as well. If you have grown close enough to exchange real life mailing addresses, then by all means, drop a handwritten note into the mail to let her know you’re thinking about her. Tell her she’s doing an amazing job and that she’s handling the crazy post-partum extravaganza like a pro and that she’s just plain awesome.

Send her something that you KNOW she will need. Check her registry for items that made your life easier during new mamahood. Or send a gift card, some diapers, a good diaper cream, cute burp rags, lanolin nipple cream, beer, wine, vodka—you know, the essentials. Think about items that quickly run out and would require a trip to the store.

Collect coupons and links for special offers on items that she might enjoy. Send these to her via email or snail-mail, whichever is most appropriate.

Offer to blogsit. Now, if I were to take a weeks-long leave of absence from my site, #1? No one would notice, and #2? If anyone did notice, they’d think I had just gone off to eat some cake. Again. However, there are some of you out there who actually update regularly with interesting stuff, and I for one have been known to email a favorite blogger to check on her when she didn’t post for a few days in a row. So to prevent any stalker-ish emails inundating your friend’s inbox, offer to publish a placeholder or two to keep the natives from getting restless.

Remind her that one day, she will get a full night’s sleep again. Don’t remind her that it may take 14 months for this to finally happen, though.

Avoid dishing out ANY kind of advice or literature or philosophies on the Right Way to feed/sleep/diaper/hold/wipe her baby. Let her follow her instincts and convictions, and keep yours to yourself. Unless she asks. And even then, be very gentle.

The best way to be helpful to a far-away friend who has recently had a new a baby is simply to be thoughtful. But then again, thoughtfulness works in just about any situation, doesn’t it?

*****

Stay tuned for Jezer’s part 2 of Help for the Helpful.

In the meantime, tell me what the best advice you ever received was?

What’s the one nugget of advice you always pass along to friends? 

Next, we’ll talk about ways that you can help your nearby friend or relative in the first few days at home with her new baby.

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