Dear lady on the sidewalk in front of the post office,

You are probably a very nice person, although I do not know because you are a total stranger. I agree that you do not look crazy, at least not in the stereotypical smelling-of-booze-pushing-a-shopping-cart-ranting-about-the-end-of-the-world way. Perhaps you have a little bit of trouble understanding personal space, but in general I know your intentions are harmless. You most likely live a very normal, average life right here in town. There’s a pretty good chance you even see a doctor regularly and are not carrying any infectious diseases.

I’m sure my son does remind you of when your “babies” were that age. I understand that time goes by very quickly, and I should cherish every moment. (You may be shocked to learn you are not the first person to give me that advice.) I am incredibly blessed to have such a beautiful child. It’s great that your daughters seem like the kind of girls who will give you lots of grandchildren some day – although perhaps that’s more than I needed to know about them –  and I hope they are as beautiful as my own Baby Evan.

All that being said, if you ever EVER EVER put your lips on my baby’s face again, please believe I will punch you in the mouth.

Thanks for understanding!
xoxo
Suzanne

Since becoming a  stay-at-home-baby-incubator/stay-at-home-mother/both I’ve experienced every possible emotion regarding my work/lack of work/OMG SO MUCH WORK, ranging from incredible joy to mind-numbing frustration.

This is the best job in the world, why would I EVER want to do something else?!

God staying home is boring. How many years until kindergarten?

I love spending every second of every day with Baby Evan!

This one-income thing SUCKS. Maybe daycare would be worth looking into.

What do you mean I don’t “WORK”. YOU THINK THIS ISN’T WORK!?!?

I don’t think these feelings are the least bit unusual. It’s a rare person who is always happy with every second of their work or home life, even if they’re doing something they love. You don’t even have to be a mom to have days when your job feels pointless and frustrating and you think you must be missing out on something really awesome, some calling that would make you happy every day, some magical fantastic occupation that other people have but you do not. Dissatisfaction is part of the human condition and our ability to imagine how much BETTER things could be sometimes gets in the way of remember how much WORSE things could be.

You know what cures a good old-fashioned case of the woe-is-me’s? Doing good.

This weekend, I spent a few hours helping set up, working at, and breaking down a tag sale my friend April organized as a fundraiser for the Women’s Center of South Eastern Connecticut. It’s part of her Mommies on a Mission initiative, encouraging members of our Luna Mom’s Club to volunteer their time and talents for good causes, which she runs in addition to owning the Stroller Strides franchise, raising her two kids AND being a dedicated Navy wife. (April is kind of amazing. OK, REALLY amazing.) We raised over $800 in cash plus donations of women’s and children’s clothing for families who have been displaced due to domestic violence and need a new start. It’s amazing that you can turn a bunch of old junk into that kind of support with just a few volunteers and a Saturday morning. Playing just a small part in that good deed has given me the warm-fuzzies all weekend. Now I understand why so many otherwise unemployed housewives run charity events/foundations/galas/raffles. Those ladies-who-lunch are really onto something, even if I still can’t help making fun of their oh-no-my-maid-forgot-to-iron-the-sheets type problems.

I actually can’t wait for our next mission so I can get that happy, satisfied feeling of helping someone else again. Even if you don’t have time to organize or volunteer at an in-person event, doing good can brighten your outlook:

Jill from Baby Rabies’ #helpSam fundraiser reached an incredible total of over $9,000 in 3 weeks, thanks to the generosity of some great companies, bloggers and random internet strangers. I spent an afternoon tweet-spamming every celebrity and semi-celebrity I could think of and knowing I helped just a teeny tiny bit brought me to tears when I saw the incredible video Sam’s family created as a thank you.The giveaways are closed but the Paypal account remains open and donations are always appreciated.

Raising Madison is currently running a fundraiser for Keegan, an 8 month old with Medulloblastoma. She’s got some incredible companies on board (hello, who doesn’t want an ERGO?) and not a huge number of entries so PLEASE go over take a look. Just $5 is enough to help make a difference.

The March of Dimes is always accepting donations to make sure all babies are born healthy and full-term. Our team raised $3,000 during our March for Babies back in April and I loved every second of that damp, muddy walk. I’m already looking forward to next year’s event and would encourage everyone to find a walk in their area.

If you know of any other current fundraisers or causes, please link them in the comments. I would love to bring any attention I can to more people who are trying to live by the rule that small deeds make a world of difference.

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.
-Margaret Mead

One is not born into the world to do everything but to do something.
-Henry David Thoreau

I shall pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.
-Mahatma Gandhi

I started this blog for Baby Evan, my original bebeh, so EVERY POST for the first 12 months was related to growing him, feeding him, caring for him and loving him. There were a few posts that had more to do with my own life or opinions, but I would argue that everything that’s gone in my life in the last 24 months* was directly influenced by his presence. No scrapbook in the WORLD is as detailed as this blog is when it comes to recording every single magical poop filled moment of a child’s life.

And now I am 12 weeks pregnant. OMG. 12 weeks pregnant means I am in my second trimester with Sandy and I’ve written about it less than half a dozen times. I have no tag for “first trimester”. Most days I barely have time to think about being pregnant, let alone dwell on it. When people ask me “So how are you feeling?” I stare at them kind of blankly for a minute until I remember they’re asking due to my knocked-upped-ness. I haven’t bought a single baby item or browsed a single website for nursery inspiration. I don’t even know if we’re going to do a nursery this time – we know we like co-sleeping for at least 6 months so why disturb our guest room? I haven’t made a giant list of names or sat super still for hours wondering if I was feeling baby flutters or just gas (seriously, I totally still can’t tell) or planned a baby shower** or bought a baby book or taped the ultrasound pic to the fridge (I don’t even know where I PUT it) or…or…or anything. Most of the time I think I’ve imagined the whole thing and I should start packing up these unused maternity clothes to put them in the attic.

I would add I’m doing a BETTER job of a lot of things this time around – I’m eating much healthier for one. After everyone’s suggestions on what to feed Baby Evan I’ve started keeping a lot more fruit in the house and yesterday I ate my body weight in berries. With Baby Evan the only thing I ate my weight in was french fries. (The fact that I’ve had minimal morning sickness this time helps immensely.) I’m staying active, and by active I mean “going to Stroller Strides regularly and running after Baby Evan all day”, not “buying a prenatal yoga DVD I do twice before I start fast forwarding to the part at the end where we focus on relaxing, i.e. lying down”. I have officially gained zero pounds so far and I no longer think I’m destined to exceed last pregnancy’s highest number. I am reading a totally different set of books, reading a different set of message boards, asking a different set of questions, all of which mean I will be better prepared for birth and the super-important moments immediately afterward. Sandy is going to have a lot of advantages thanks to my been-there-done-that knowledge – if I don’t simply forget to go into labor because Baby Evan just said “Luv you mama!” for the first time or is throwing a screaming temper tantrum in the mall or because it’s freakin’ CHRISTMAS and I am WAY too busy to stop and push out a watermelon baby.

I fear at this rate, my (imaginary future) third child is destined to star in it’s very own episode of I Didn’t Even Know I Was Pregnant.

*Proof I am indeed pregnant: I had to use both my fingers AND a calculator to figure out what 9ish months of pregnancy plus 14ish months of life totaled.

**I’m going to have a baby party instead of a shower, hosted by myself, with a cake and punch and decorations but no presents. I might not be spending as much time dwelling on this pregnancy but I want Sandy to know s/he was just as worthy of a party as Baby Evan.***

***Which I’m pretty sure proves I’m not doing quite as badly as I think I am.

So finally, at almost 14 months, my child officially eats solid food. All my fears about poor oral motor skills and gag reflex and allergies and exclusively nursing until he was 8 proved to be just normal first-time mommy induced panic and now I can go back to freaking out about the important stuff, like why doesn’t he say “mama” more often and will he grow up to be a serial killer because he likes to stand on the cat?

Baby Evan’s new and somewhat sudden interest in real, human food has left me woefully unprepared to offer healthy, age appropriate choices. It’s incredibly embarrassing to realize the only food in our house is stale bread, frozen pizza rolls, ancient cans of soup and fourteen kinds of cheese (which happens to be one of the only foods Baby Evan is still totally uninterested in) while Baby Evan whines and signs “food food food food foooooooood”. And even when I do have apples and Cheerios and yogurt and wheat bread and raisins and four dozen other things to offer him, all Baby Evan wants is cookies. Or french fries. Or jelly beans. Or one of the other terrible, horrible, no-good-for-babies things I’ve fed him over the past six months in a desperate attempt to find ANYTHING he would eat. It’s a lucky night when we’re having chicken or pasta or salmon or something I can offer him without the horrible guilt brought on by food coloring and corn syrup.

How did I end up doing this so wrong? I’ve seen plenty of news reports about childhood obesity. I scoffed at the idea of french fries being the most common vegetable in a child’s diet and swore “not MY child”. I know intellectually how important it is to start good habits now, but then suddenly it’s time to eat (breakfast, brunch, mid-day snack, lunch, early afternoon snack, etc etc etc) and all those good intentions fly right out the window. I am failing.

It’s crazy to realize feeding my child is turning out to be my greatest parenting challenge to date, especially since I thought I got the baby-feeding thing under control when Baby Evan was 4 months old. Wasn’t breastfeeding supposed to be the hard part?

Moms (and childless healthy eaters), how do you do it? How do you make sure your kids eat real, healthy, non-processed crap more (or at least as) often as they eat junk?

Parents waste a lot of time wondering what their kids are going to be when they grow up. You can’t help it when you spend 24 hours a day with this little person who has the potential to be almost anything. Despite the stereotype of every mother wanting her kid to be a doctor, most parents probably have more realistic expectations than kids themselves. I spent most of my childhood planning to be the world’s first astronaut-ballet dancer-marine biologist-movie star. That didn’t work out so well.  But it doesn’t stop me from projecting just a liiiiiittle bit onto poor Baby Evan.

Baby Evan sits on the dog – He loves animals! He’s going to be a vet!

Baby Evan chews on a board book – He loves books! He’s going to be a famous writer!

Baby Evan falls off the couch – What a daredevil! Maybe he’ll be a skydiving instructor!

Baby Evan kisses my toes – He clearly has an interest in feet. He’s going to be a podiatrist!

Baby Evan eats trash – What an adventurous palate! I bet he wins Top Chef one day!

But the truth is, I don’t care if Baby Evan is any of those things. I don’t care if he’s rich or poor or single or married or owns a mansion or only owns a cardboard box. He can be a successful businessman or a starving artist. He can live in New York or LA or Paris or Sydney or my basement. None of that stuff matters (although if he does live in my basement you better believe he’ll be paying rent and mowing the lawn).

I just want him to be happy.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas, mama-to-bes, and future mamas!