Monthly Archives: June 2014

Great (Parenting) Expectations

A large number of people approach my husband when he is out with mini Gwinn to tell him he’s a great father. And he is, there’s no question about it. He interacts with him at the playground rather than sitting on a bench with his phone out. He talks to him at the store. He verbally guides him down slides and through store aisles. He praises our son for being obedient and polite, brave and adventurous. It doesn’t hurt that our oldest son is the spitting image of my husband, either. That seems to give strangers the spring board conversational intro to talking to Captain Laser Pants. From what he tells me, he usually chuckles off the string of compliments (“your son is gorgeous, he looks just like you,” “you’re such a wonderful father”) and goes about his business.

But… I do all those things with my son, too. And no one, with the exception of my mom, had ever said, “You’re such a great mother.”

Why is that?

Society has expectations for parents. Sitcoms tell us dads are lazy and negligent, moms are crabby and overbearing. If a dad is present with his children, that’s good enough, and if he talks to his children, he gets a Nobel Peace Prize. But moms? We have expectations too. We’re expected to know where every miniscule piece of a Lego set is, at any time, even if strewn across the house. We’re expected to meticulously prepare lunches, lay out clothes, come up with ingenious crafts and activities, and 100 other things through the day. But rarely, if ever, are we told we’re being exceptional for doing any of it. Our efforts are usually unacknowledged entirely.

My husband is a great father. No doubt about it. I’m blessed to have him. But I’ve never once had a stranger, let alone several, approach me to tell me I’m a great mom.

I’m going to keep playing pretend with my boys at the park. And making great lunches and science projects and fun art crafts. And taking care of their laundry and doctors appointments. Not for the acknowledgement of strangers, but for the benefit of my fantastic kids. But if someone ever does say something akin to what others tell my husband, I’ll beam just a little bit with pride.


Two Months and Turning Corners

2.0 is two months old today. He is smiling, cooing, and growing. He weighs over 13 lbs and has almost outgrown his three months clothing.
Even better, though, is that we are fairly sure he has turned a corner with his health and sleep. Last night he slept for over six hours in one stretch, and he’s done that for a few nights in the past week. He doesn’t cry nearly as often or for as long as he was even two weeks ago. We are hopeful, but not expecting anything. Every night he sleeps well and every day he seems happy are times we celebrate.


He’s a chunky little dude who loves to eat. I’ve had some problems nursing him because I have a fast flow, causing him to choke and cough. For now I’m pumping and giving him mostly hindmilk to see if it helps.


He’s very alert when he’s awake. And freakishly strong. He has been holding his head up for stretches of time for over a month now, but now he’s added pushing his upper body off mine as well. He also seems to like jumping and squatting, using his own lower body strength to propel himself. He scoots around his crib, too. He’s a busy little 2.0, just like his big brother.


Mini Gwinn is into taking pictures lately. And driving vehicles on Batflefield 4. Crazy enough, he has the coordination to use the dual directional joysticks. He has several packs of flash cards, and now that he knows numbers and most letters by sight, he likes to quiz me.
At some point I plan on going back to the gym. These 30 lbs aren’t going to lose themselves. In the mean time, I try to avoid mirrors and my closet.
Rambling post, sorry. Sanity and coherence may return too, but I’m not betting on it.

alone time

Like, what is it?

I haven’t been alone for more than 45 minutes since April 24th. That’s eight weeks and three days, in case you wonder if I’m counting. Cause I am.

Mini Gwinn had a play date today with some of our favorite people on the planet. Last night I asked Captain Laser Pants if I could leave 2.0 with him during the play date. He said, “I don’t know,” which translated to “no”. So I took the little one. This gave CLP three uninterrupted hours of alone time. Which he gets every day. I was pretty irritated when we came home and nothing had been done to clean the house. He had told me he would go to Costco. Instead, he had played video games.

Am I justified in being upset? I haven’t slept for more than five hours in eight weeks. Haven’t had the luxury of going to the bathroom or taking a shower without someone crying for me. The eighteenish hours I’m awake every day are devoted to the care of three other people.

Am I being selfish? Is the lack of sleep making me mean?


Pediatric Gastroenterologist


We went to the pediatric gastroenterologist (sp?) yesterday. Little 2.0 doesn’t sleep and cries a whole, whole lot. He was pretty worn out from the ordeal. I’ll post deets later.
In other news, mini Gwinn made a homemade cake by himself. He measured, stirred and told me what he wanted to add. I didn’t try it because he was letting one of the dogs lick the batter. But from an experienced cake baker, I can tell you the ingredients and measurements were pretty accurate.
I’ve been laying low on the blogosphere and in the real world. Managing with two, particularly with one who is sickly/ cries all the time, is no walk in the park. The good news is the doctors are hopefully getting to the bottom of the issue and mini Gwinn has been a champ. He’s such a sweet big brother. I can’t believe I was ever worried about him.