"One of those moms..."

I think I always imagined that I would be "one of those moms." As I write this, I'm thinking of the type A first time mom in the new Luvs diapers commercials. Surely you've seen it too. You all probably know her or someone like her, and if you know me, you know that my personality is the direct opposite of first time mom in the commercials. So, I don't know what made me think that I would be that mom, but here's how I saw motherhood working out for me when I first found out I was pregnant:
 

I would breastfeed exclusively the first six months no matter what.
Vaught would not leave the house for any reason until his shots at eight weeks.
Germ-X must be slathered over the hands and arms of any baby holder.
Actually, no one would hold him until he was a few months old.
No travelling with the baby.
Baby would sleep on his back even if it meant we didn't sleep at all.
Baby would not be allowed to cry for longer than ten seconds.
Only organic baby products-- (lotions, bath wash, even his swaddle blankets would be organic)
Only organic baby food.
No children would be allowed to hold him.
Bottles would be sanitized daily.
House would be kept in tip-top shape to minimize dust and germs that could infect baby.
Make that twice daily on those bottles.
Baby would be taken to the doctor at the sign of the first sniffle.
Baby would stay on a strict feeding schedule as to stay on schedule with what he should ideally weigh.
I absolutely would not try anything that was not backed 100% by the nation's top pediatricians.

 

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Let me just bust some of this wide open for you.

If you read me regularly, you've probably figured out that I'm a laid back, easy going girl, so I have absolutely no idea what made me think I'd be "one of those moms." Let me also say before I jump into things that even if having some (or all) of the above traits fit your personality, that's great... for you. I just can't fathom why I thought that it would be me... I think a lot of us get confused that the above qualities make you Super Mom, when really, being a super mom has everything to do with doing what works best for you and your baby. I'm no expert, but I have figured that much out.

So, let me just start from the top and knock some of this out. I hate the mom-shaming that comes with the decision to or not to breastfeed. I've not personally encountered it, but I have definitely seen it and it's a shame in itself. I've mentioned a few times why Vaught is now bottle fed, so I won't get into all that again, but I know there are a lot of women out there who just can't breastfeed for whatever reason. I made the decision myself to stop breastfeeding, and I don't regret it one bit. Some might call me selfish, and that's okay, but don't feed me that crap about breastfed babies being smarter or healthier than bottle fed. I hate listening to mothers make other mothers feel inferior over the breastfeeding issue, when all we really need to do is shut up and support each other. We're just doing the best we can after all.

I thought I'd keep him in the house for eight weeks, but by week three I was about to lose my mind staying holed up at home, so I bundled that sweet boy up and drove him wherever I wanted to go. He slept like a charm in his car seat while I pushed a Target shopping cart and bought things I probably didn't need or sat in the Starbucks café and sipped a latte. I never tired of people telling me how beautiful he was... If you're a mother, you know you love it too.

Did I really think I could protect my baby from germs? Newsflash: they're everywhere. Here's how I see it: keeping him cooped up in a warm house is more harmful to him than being exposed to a little chilly weather once in a while. Obviously, I avoided people I knew were or had recently been sick, but at some point in his life, he's going to catch a cold. There's just no preventing it, not totally at least. I can enjoy my happy, smiley, snotty baby or I can lose my mind sitting in my house in an attempt to prevent him from coming in contact with anything that breathes.

My friend, a nurse, put him on his belly when he was eight days old. I was against it at first, but when I saw how well he slept for that nap and then that night, I was sold. We were all tummy sleepers growing up, and you probably were too. I really owe a lot to that Angelcare monitor though, I must admit.

How did I get my baby to sleep through the night? In a nutshell: I let him cry himself to sleep three nights in a row. Fed, diapered, burped, sleepy, he was put in his crib. I used to think if he cried longer than a minute or so I was a horrible mother who didn't know what she was doing. Then I started reading up on sleep training and decided to give it a try. The longest he ever cried at bed time was fourteen minutes, so it's not like I let him scream for hours. Fourteen minutes. The first three nights were the hardest, but it was a cake walk after that. A few days ago a friend called me to ask about sleep training and how we got Vaught to sleep. When I said, "Girl, let that baby cry!" she just couldn't believe it. "I could never do that!" she said. You asked, I told you. (disclaimer: I know that sick or colicky babies are definitely an exception).

Inspiration for this post struck last Sunday at my cousin's baby shower as Vaught was passed around after opening gifts. I never thought I'd let people hold him, but I'll hand him off to almost anyone at parties or family events. I get him all to myself as much as I want most of the time, so why be selfish with this cuddly ball of love?! A thirteen-year-old at the shower approached me and timidly asked if she could hold him for a minute. "I'll sit down with him," she promised, like she really thought I might not let her. "Don't do that!" I told her. "He likes to stand." I handed little dude off and took that five minutes to enjoy one last slice of cake. During the holidays, each time we arrived at a family event, my little cousins or nieces would run up to me and chime together, "Can we hold him?!" Why, heck yeah you can! Here, take him!

I always thought that I would eyeball any person that held him, just to make sure they were holding him right, that his head was supported correctly, their hands were clean. But watching this young girl hold him, I thought to myself Thank God I'm not one of those moms. Back to the Luvs commercials, I'm very much like that second version of the mom. Vaught may be my first baby, but I'm an expert on being his mom. I just can't imagine being uptight or obsessive about everything from germs to his weight. I'm laid back and happy and crazy and sarcastic, and my parenting style is just a slightly toned down combination of all that. I don't care to be Super Mom; I am a super mom, but I'm a super mom to whom it matters most: my son.

Maybe you hold some of the characteristics of "one of those moms," and if so, that's totally fine. The beautiful thing about motherhood is that there is no single, correct way to do it. We're all different, thus the way we parent is different. I tend to some of my mommy duties in a way other women might not, and I watch some of the things my sisters, cousins, and friends do as parents and think there's no way we could all do this job the exact same way. I had all these ideas about what kind of mother I would be before having Vaught, and now I realize that I should have just had one type in mind: a good one.

 

At the end of the day, he won't remember if the house was clean or if his bottles were perfectly sanitized or if his food was top quality or if his nighttime lotion was environmentally friendly. What he will remember is the time his mother spent with him and the love she showered upon him with every spare moment she had. Isn't that all that matters?