“10 Things New Moms Want to Tell New Dads” – The Clawson Version

One of my favorite things to do during my free time (besides stare at the kid and make sure he is still breathing…does the urge to do that ever stop?), is to hop on the trusty book of faces and see what newly published blog posts Scary Mommy has shared.  The articles range from serious to almost hilariously sacrilegious, but they always hit close to home, whether it makes me tear up or laugh my ass off.  Recently, however, they shared a blog post that I felt needed a few extra details, particularly as they relate to my husband.

See the original blog post below in bold and my additions in italics.

10 Things New Moms Want to Tell New Dads

1. You’re holding the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

But thank you for even WANTING to hold the baby.  Thank you for not being one of those people who freaks out when they come near an infant because they are squishy and fragile and squirmy and cry and poop.  Because when you went to work that one day last week to make sure America was still the land of the free and all that, he cried all day, and when you came home and held him so I could sit on the couch and do nothing, I wanted to jump your bones…but you know, we got that pesky 6 week wait…BUT I DIGRESS, THANK YOU FOR HOLDING THE BABY, even when I say, “OHMAHGAWD, WATCH HIS LITTLE FEET.” (As I’m typing this, you’re holding little man and trying to pinky promise him because, “we’re best buds”…I mean, really, you’re the best.)

2. You’re wiping the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Seriously, you probably know better than me how to get all the little bits down there clean.  So I’m just gonna let you claim this victory, A.

3. You’re putting the diaper on wrong. Do it anyway.

Guilty.  I am guilty as charged.  But thank you for changing his diaper without even thinking twice.  I know it seems like I save the poopy diapers for you (and sometimes I do, not going to lie) and I know that once we were settled at home, I was sure to show you how changed his diaper like I was the diaper messiah (heads up, little man’s was the first diaper I ever changed), but I really do appreciate you.  And let’s be honest, you saved my ass in the hospital…I couldn’t hold him, couldn’t change his diaper…and you did ALL of that.  So thanks, you’re my pal.

4. You’re burping the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

I’m sorry I birthed the gassiest child on Earth – not that you’re surprised, because you are married to the gassiest woman on Earth.  Burping the baby is like a SPEC OPS mission that sometimes goes horribly wrong.  It can end in a series of burps, hysterical crying, sharts…who really knows what the final outcome will be, and that goes for when I burp him or you burp him.  I will say, though…DON’T CRUMPLE HIM UP ON YOUR CHEST, HOW DO YOU EXPECT THE GAS TO GET OUT.

5. You’re bathing the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Hmmm…you should bathe the baby.  I will update after I witness it. 

6. You’re pushing the stroller wrong. Do it anyway.

Is there a wrong way to push a stroller?

7. You’re feeding the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Yeahhhhhh…I’m bad about this one…”you’re holding the bottle wrong,” “watch the air bubble,” “blah blah blahhhhhhh.”  Thanks for feeding the baby.  Thanks for getting up at night with little to no grumblings to feed the baby.  Thanks for sometimes taking two feedings in a row so I can get an unprecedented amount of sleep.  All in all, if food is getting in the tummy, all is well!  But for real, watch that air bubble…

8. You’re dressing the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

SOMETIMES, I FEEL LIKE YOUR BIG MAN HANDS ARE PUSHING TOO HARD ON M BABY’S HEAD WHILE STUFFING HIM INTO ONESIES.  But thanks for dressing him anyways, even when you know I’m going to make a comment about it.  I can’t help it.  

9. You’re soothing  the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Thanks for trying to soothe him when he is crying and we have done everything else in the world to make him stop.  If he doesn’t stop crying, toss him over.  Sometimes, a man just needs some boobies to cuddle into and a sweet voice to sing to them.  Not that you’re doing it wrong, necessarily, but I have some pretty decent assets to use for bouncing, snuggling, and loving on the little baby.  Thanks for trying, anyways.

10. You’re singing to the baby wrong. Do it anyway.

Your voice is so deep…do you think he likes it?  Is it scaring him?  No?  He’s giggling?  Oh…well…carry on.

Please.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

P.S. We have no idea what the hell we’re doing, either.

Really, I don’t, and it helps that we are making up the rules together.

 

 

Head over to Scary Mommy to check out more parenthood hilarity!

Life with a newborn – Day 17

Little baby is 17 days old and what a 17 days it has been!  So far, things have been going pretty well!  At least…I think they are.  I mean, I’m a first time mom and flying by the seat of my pants, but everybody in the house is still alive, so I say HELL YEAH, things are going AWESOME!

One thing I find surprising about this whole thing is how…ok, I’m going to use the word “easy” and people will look at this blog post like I’m crazy, but really…I’m surprised at how easy it has been to settle into this weird and wonderful new life.  Yeah, sometimes Raylan cries, and I have no idea what to do (in these instances, I basically just cycle through all the go to things…we eat, bounce, walk, burp, change diaper, pop in a pacifier..still crying?…REPEAT!!) and diapers leak and everybody nearby has to change their clothes (scariest part about caring for a newborn?  Squeezing a onesie over their soft little melon heads…really), but all of that is just newborn stuff.  If you didn’t expect to be exhausted or you’re mad because you have to carry an extra shirt for yourself in your purse, then I don’t know what you were expecting.

But for us…for me…it’s been…well…easy(ish).  It’s been a smooth(ish) transition.  It feels natural to wipe his little bottom and bounce around the bedroom until he stops crying.

My fear is that the harder parts are coming.  But when/if they do, we’ll handle it the best we know how.  Because that’s what parents do.  And I will just continue to pretend like I have a clue what’s going on.

ANYWAYS, let’s check in with Raylan at 2 weeks old!

Baby’s Stats:  We headed to the doctor on Wednesday for his two week check up.  At birth, Raylan was 6lbs even and 18.5 inches.  Just two weeks and some change later, he is clocking in at 7lbs 5oz and 19.75 inches!  I’m overjoyed he is growing like a little weed…I’m also desperately sad he is growing like a little weed. hahaha, I cannot be pleased!  I will say, having such a little baby has offered some challenges, so there is a certain peace of mind and ease offered just because he is a little bigger, physically.

Eating:  Due to a whole host of problems (another blog post, another day), we are pumping and supplementing using bottles.  I can’t see the pumping lasting too much longer.  I was very sad about it at first, but now I’m mostly relieved.  In any case, Raylan is eating about 2oz every 2 hours or so.  Recently, he has been requesting more after a feed (hunger cues: sucking on hands, whining, rooting, holding face) and I will offer another ounce.

Clothes:  Newborn sizes!  It will be another couple weeks, at least, before we move up, I believe.  I wasn’t prepared for having such a tiny baby, so we basically run through the same 10 newborn onesies because I refuse to buy more.

Diapers:  Newborn size and target brand!  We received pampers swaddlers from the hospital but after a few days, we noticed that suddenly he was leaking like a boat with a hole.  We finished up with the packs we were given and while on a target run, snagged some more diapers.  They work great so far!  I am a little concerned, though, because we have a shit ton (an exact measurement, I know) of pampers swaddlers in sizes 1-3, and if they leak as well, that will not work.

Sleep:  Recently, napping alone hasn’t been such a success during the day.  He really likes to be held, which I don’t mind at all (I hate doing the dishes anyways, I really didn’t need an excuse to not do them) so most daytime naps occur in my arms.  At night, he typically sleeps anywhere from 2-3 hours.  Not terrible, but I’m looking forward to longer stretches!  Generally, he is pretty easy to be put down, as long as he is full and dry.

Routine:  Daytime is a total crapshoot.  I just do whatever Raylan wants when he wants.  We feed on demand, do diaper changes after every feed (and sometimes before), and we nap after diaper changes (or try to).  I’m enjoying that he is more aware and having longer awake periods, though!  I could stare into his eyes for hours.  (Why yes, my husband does all the cleaning.)  As far as nighttime goes, we bathe around 8:30, put on a diaper, get lotioned up, have a bottle, get dressed and swaddled, a little bit of snuggle time and then he goes in the bassinet on his pack and play, which is currently in our room.

My thoughts/emotions:  The first week of little boy’s life, I was a mess.  Baby blues hit me hard.  Mostly, I was so overwhelmed with how much I loved my little man and the kindness of my family (my mom specifically) in the week after his birth, that I was just a weepy, sad little thing.  I’m feeling much better now!  As he gets a little bigger and I get more confident in myself and my husband, I am finding that each day I wake up a little less weepy than the day before.

Mom’s Stats:  AIIGHT, I’M ABOUT TO AIR ALL MY DIRTY LAUNDRY.  LET THIS SERVE AS A WARNING TO YOU.  I gained 40 pounds.  Which isn’t TERRIBLE.  (But it’s mostly donut weight.)  The problem is, I wasn’t a spring chicken when I started, and truthfully needed to lose 20 pounds before getting pregnant.  So the math there is 60 pounds.  SWEET LORD, 60 POUNDS.  60 pounds that sometime in the next year or so need to vacate my body.  So far, I’m down about 25 pounds, which leaves 35 pounds or so.  I’m feeling pretty good, csection wise.  There is still some tenderness and I will get a sharp pain if I move a little too crazy, but it’s not bad at all and I haven’t taken any pain meds for a week.  I’m really looking forward to being cleared for exercise!  I’m not huge into working out, but if you had a flabby tummy like this, you would want to hop on a treadmill, too.

 

And that’s that!  Here’s to another week of having no idea what I’m doing but pretending I do!

Common courtesies to show a pregnant lady

So, let’s have a chat.

Now, I’m aware that the majority of my blog followers are fellow pregnant ladies, so they will read this and nod emphatically while clapping their hands together and saying, “Preach!”  <In my head, apparently all my followers are sassy ;-)>

I do hope, however, that a non-pregnant person might happen to stroll by this post, read a few bullet points, and then go teach other people to stop being such assholes.

Let’s begin.

 

If you can, offer up your chair.

I’m a high school teacher and had the privilege of watching several of my children graduate last Friday.  It was a sweet occasion, particularly because I witnessed their struggles first hand.  The pride I felt was overwhelming.  Well, and there was a bit of relief at knowing I would never again have to tutor, argue with, chide, push, and grade those children ever again.  (Until the new set comes in next year…)

However, the happy ceremony will always be marred for me.  Because at almost 34 weeks pregnant with insane sciatica and a 5ft frame that can barely support my boobs, much less the belly…not a single person offered me a seat.  The event was a sold out show, as it were, and I stood the entire 3 hours.

Three holy-shit-I-can’t-feel-my-extremities-my-back-is-about-to-snap-in-half-my-fingers-have-swelled-to-the-size-of-a-sausage hours.

At one point, I noticed an empty seat in the section I had been tasked with monitoring.  Excited at the potential for some relief, I waddled over and asked if the seat was taken.  The woman turned to look at me and said, “Yes, my son will be here shortly.”  I just nodded and sadly lumbered back to the dent I made in the floor and continued my vigil.

And wouldn’t you know, when her son finally showed up an hour late, he was 15 fucking years old and kept his headphones in the whole time while playing on his phone?

Moral of the story:  if you see a pregnant lady whose belly has its own gravitational pull, offer her your chair if you can.  Chances are she is suffering and you letting her sit down will be the nicest thing that happens to her all day.

 

Do not harp on about her hugeness.

Bro, I know I’m big.  I think being pregnant makes people think it’s ok to tell a girl she is large.

“Wow, you get bigger every time I see you!”  Yeah, I’m on the hobbit meal plan.  It includes two breakfasts and noonsies after luncheon.

“Jeez, you’re huge!  Haven’t you popped yet?”  Obviously not.

“I swear, there must be twins in there.”  Naw, but he has been weight training using my liver.

I’m not an overly emotional person, or one who takes things too seriously.  And truly, I understand that most of the time, people are EXCITED I’m this big, because in their mind, that means baby is healthy and growing.  This particular grievance comes from the fact that these comments are not original, and to be honest…they are getting kind of old.  I know I’m big, so unless you are going to comment on my rotundity with some originality, just save your breath.  Or better yet, buy me a donut, remind me that I’m a fucking champion for growing this baby, and move on.

Moral of the story:  unless you are hilarious and original, keep your fat comments to yourself.

 

Unless you are about to pee on yourself, let the pregnant lady jump you in line.

This past weekend, we traveled a few hours away to attend our baby shower my family was throwing for us.  We had to make several stops on the way there because Raylan has discovered that he can push off of my bladder with his little fists and bounce into my diaphragm.  Obviously, this hurts and causes me to pee myself on a regular basis.

In any case, on one such incident, we squealed to a halt outside of a McDonald’s so that I could hightail it into the bathroom.  As I limped/shuffled to the restroom, I noticed there was a woman standing outside the bathroom.  I raised my eyebrows and smiled at her, a nonverbal inquiry as to her purpose.  And she responded by looking me up and down and saying, “The line starts behind me.”

Wellllllllllllllll, okay then.

While waiting in line with her, Raylan performed his little stunt two or three more times.  Each time, I bent over slightly, pressed my lips together, and clenched every muscle below my waist.  Don’t piss your pants at McDonald’s, don’t piss your pants at McDonald’s.

The woman was not impressed with me.  She sighed a couple times before finally entering the bathroom as another woman exited.  I pushed in after her because I figured if I did pee on myself, it would be easier to handle in the bathroom as opposed to standing in the dining room.

Moral of the story:  if you see a pregnant lady whose eyes are turning yellow from the force of which she is holding back her urine, let her hop in front of you if you can hold it.

 

Do you have any other common courtesies you would like to be shown as a pregnant person?

Valentine’s Day!

So…there is no piece of me that is super jazzed about Valentine’s Day.  I mean, it’s never been a huge holiday for us.  Usually we just skip over it because A’s birthday is the 15th, so we celebrate and go out then.  

But now that I’m pregnant, the idea of putting on makeup and doing my hair and staying out past 8:00 is nauseating.  And I HATE that, but I can’t help it.  Thankfully, I have the sweetest husband on the planet who understands.

Our Vday plans will include dinner and a movie (although I think I’m going to talk him into a redbox and chocolate covered strawberry fixings instead of the movie theater…because I can wear my snuggie…)

Share your Valentine’s Day plans!  (and make me feel totally pathetic about my insane desire to wear pants with elastic on one of the most romantic nights of the year)

I leave you all with this fabulous and hilarious Peanuts cartoon on love:

Image

Charles M. Shulz

What would you do with three wishes?

Daily Prompt: Lucky Star

Today is your lucky day. You get three wishes, granted to you by The Daily Post. What are your three wishes and why?

 

This is very similar to a journal prompt I gave the kids a few weeks ago.  They, of course, spent the majority of their time arguing how to gain more wishes.  Which makes me think…why aren’t three wishes enough?  It’s three more wishes than you had to begin with…some people go their entire lives without even knowing what a wish is!  Be grateful for your three wishes!

That seems to be the problem with that generation.  They are too quick to jump on something that requires no effort on their parts and then they try to buck the system, to increase their personal amount of happiness or money or whatever it is their goal happens to be.

Whatever happened to hard work and determination?  All of a sudden, things that are considered hard are suddenly not worth doing!  But oftentimes, the things that are hardest have the biggest reward.

Oh yeah, I would wish for a new vehicle (because mine turns itself off when I stop and my husband’s is a ’96 Dodge truck with paint peeling and a faulty transmission), safety and job security for my husband (I’m combining those to be one wish…my husband is an officer in the United States Air Force…the military is not very safe and secure at the moment…whether that is on the front lines or fighting the battle currently being waged in Congress), and  happiness for those I love (I think that is pretty self explanatory…).

Ok, I take back the snow days

I LEAPED for joy when I found out we had Tuesday off.

I almost cried when I realized school had been canceled on Wednesday as well.

Two more days of bra-less freedom!

Now, as I sit on my planning period staring at the emails, piles of grading, and basic headaches of catching us up…I have regret.  Surely, that pillow fort could have waited…why oh WHY did I leave these essays at work?

Y’all can have the snow days!  I don’t want them anymore!

Gender Predictions

Tucked Neatly Away had the absolutely wonderful idea of gathering well known Old Wive’s Tales about determining gender in preparation for her upcoming gender reveal.  I am so beyond excited to find out the sex of our butter beans!  May the next two weeks fly by!

 

And so, in honor of our upcoming announcements, let’s predict the baby’s gender!

Highs & Lows
 If you’re carrying high, they say you’re having a girl. If you’re carrying low, it’s a boy.
The result: boy
I guess I’m carrying low.  I feel like this is sort of a difficult thing to estimate, especially without having anything else to compare it to…
Heart Rate
 According to legend, 140+ beats/minute indicates a girl, below 140 beats/minute indicates a boy.
The result: girl…although it’s pretty close!
Last check with the fetal doppler was about 142.
Sweet or Sour 
If you’re craving sweets, break out the pink. If you’re cravings are more salty/sour, break out the blue.
The result: boy
Sour…she says as she finishes a pack of sour patch kids…
 
Chinese Birth Chart
(you can find a chart here)
An ancient method that uses the age of the mother & month she conceived to determine the gender.
The result: girl
Mayan Rule of Evens & Odds
Apparently the Mayans determined a baby’s gender by looking at the mother’s age at conception & the year of conception. If both are even or odd, it’s a girl. If one’s even & one is odd, it’s a boy.
The result: boy
I was 22 at conception and the year was 2013 – one is even, and one is odd!
 
Acne Indicator
The belief that girls steal their mother’s beauty leads to this theory.
Lots of annoying acne? Thank your little lady. Little to no acne? Way to go little boy!
The result: boy
I have always had TERRIBLE acne.  I mean, the older I get, the worse it gets, which I really feel is desperately unfair…but I will save that for another post.  In any case, I measured this old wive’s tale by determining if my skin was worse or better…it’s gotten better!  
 
Put A Ring On It
Suspend your wedding ring on a string (or some say a piece of your own hair) over your belly.
If it swings back & forth, you’ve got a little girl. If it swings in a circle, you’re growing a boy.
The result: girl
We did this one a couple weeks ago!  My husband left the yarn on his wedding band for a couple hours…while it was on his finger…
Morning Sickness
The belief that if you suffer from a lot of morning sickness, you’re having a girl.
If you don’t have much, you’re having a boy.
The result: boy
No morning sickness for this mama, thank goodness!  I did have a nasty ’bout of stomach virus, but that was totally unrelated to pregnancy.
 
The final tally:
It’s a boy: 5
It’s a girl: 3
And the boys have it!  We will have to see how this turns out!  I can’t wait to find out the gender of butter bean and that of Tucked Neatly Away’s peanut as well!
Copy and paste into your own blog!  I’m interested to see everybody’s results!