I keep coming back to the post I wrote complaining how much I hate parenting advice because…well…I can’t seem to stop asking for and giving parenting advice. After a few weeks to think about it, I’ve realized my problem isn’t so much that people give advice – even if it is preachy, annoying, unsolicited and unwanted – it’s that a huge percentage of the time the advice is not at all helpful. It’s hard enough to go through a difficult stage with a baby, but it’s extra depressing when you hear “Oh we had the same x problem and after we did y it went away!” over and over…only to have it do absolutely nothing for your child. It can be especially difficult if the thing you need advice about is how to get more sleep. It may also lead to totally unnecessary mom-style panicky OMG WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY BABY WHY DOES SHE HATE THIS THING EVERY OTHER BABY LOVES thoughts when the answer is, truly, NOTHING is wrong with your baby. She’s a person. All people are different and like very different things. I mean, I really hate basketball but there are millions of people who practically worship it. There are plenty of fans for both the Dallas Cowboys and the Yankees. A huge percentage of the country actually thinks Sarah Palin is genuine and charming. There are no explanations for these things.

Even my own kids, who are only 20 months apart, are light-years apart when it comes to their likes and dislikes.

Things Caroline loves that Evan disliked or didn’t care about:

– Sleeping

– Lying down and looking at things dangling over her

– Rolling

– Taggies (those blankets with the little bits of ribbon on them)

– Bouncing (as opposed to the vibrating feature on the seat)

– Swinging (as opposed to the gliding option on the swing)

– My singing

– Chewing on things

– Her feet

– Watching the people on TV

– White noise

– Toys meant for infants

Things Evan loved that Caroline dislikes or doesn’t care about:

– Being worn (saddest realization EVER for this carrier addicted mama – I’m hoping when she’s a little older she’ll learn to like it)

– The dog

– Swaddles

– Nursing every 30 minutes

…and I can’t think of anything else, because a) It was a long time ago and b) Evan liked a LOT less stuff. He was a much more difficult baby just in general – another major difference that can’t be changed or cured with any sort of advice. And that list is just the stuff I’ve noticed during Caroline’s first 4 months. I can’t even imagine how different they’ll continue to be as she gets a personality and hits more milestones.

So, there, THAT’S my advice on advice.

At 7:21 tonight, I will have kept Evan alive for exactly 2 years. All the cliched stuff you’ve ever read about babies getting older totally applies here: I can’t even remember my life before I had him, the time has gone so fast, he’s made me a better person, cherish every moment because before you know it they’ll be walking and talking and leaving you in their dust as they run off to play with their friends. But those are cliches because they are all SO TRUE but shockingly, they still caught me by surprise. Where did my teeny tiny little baby go? Why is he sleeping in a big boy bed and eating cereal and milk with a spoon and asking me if I’m hurt when I cry? Who let him get so grown up and have all these opinions about stuff?

The truth is I can’t be too sad because this age is just SO MUCH FUN I can barely stand it. We read tons of books. He picks out outfits. He can play on his own for long periods of time but still wants us to watch him do silly things. There are balls and blocks and crayons and stamps and stickers all over my house. He’s also a super good helper. He’s in charge of putting the soap in the dishwasher and starting it, unloading the silverware, putting his dishes in the sink, putting his jammies in the hamper in the morning, and feeding the dog (most of the above with a liiiiittle assistance from mama). He loves to help with the baby too, and loves holding her and talking to her. I put them in the side-by-side stroller at Stroller Strides and he “shared” his laptop and tried to share his sippy cup when she fussed. It’s heart-meltingly cute to see them together.

But no matter how big and grown up and independent he gets, he’ll always be my baby.

The balloons I bought for these pictures made his WEEK. Wait until he sees his party on Saturday. I’m actually worried his little body might explode with joy. And coming soon here on the blog: first haircut, big boy room makeover, 2nd birthday party details and pics. It’s such an exciting time in the Davis household!

24 Month Milestones (from BabyCenter as usual)

Mastered Skills (most kids can do)
• Names at least six body parts – He can sing almost all of “head, shoulders, knees and toes”, so that’s 8 body parts right there. He also really loves teeth.
• Half of speech is understandable – To ME? Yes, probably 50%. To other people? Probably closer to 30%. He still babbles a lot, although I think he thinks he’s talking.
• Makes two- to three-word sentences – Yes, especially if they involve someone falling down. “Uh oh, I fell down!” “Uh oh, mama fell down!” “Uh oh, bebeh fell down!” He also recently started saying “Dada at work. On boat!” because I told him his dada worked on a boat. It’s easier than explaining “submarine” or “sometimes in an office but he goes to boats a lot”.

Emerging Skills (half of kids can do)
• Talks about self – See “falling down” above. He will also tell me how he feels – sad, wet, tired (night night), hurt – but doesn’t say his name, although he does know it.
• Arranges things in categories – Ummm…I’m not sure we play any games that would encourage that. Although our friend Merin sent him some little plastic dog figures he LOVES and he definitely arranges them all together. And then kicks them.
• Can walk down stairs – Yes, with or without a railing. He also refuses to hold my hand while he does it.

Advanced Skills (a few kids can do)
• Begins to understand abstract concepts (e.g., sooner and later) – He knows “one minute” means later but isn’t always happy to hear it.
• Becomes attuned to gender differences – I don’t think so, especially based on his love of wearing my jewelry and his attempts to put on mascara every morning. Although I think as Caroline gets older he might start to notice.
• Learns to jump – He has been jumping correctly – both feet off the floor – for months. He’s got fantastic gross motor skills. Seriously. He can already do most of the things on the next milestone chart up, as long as it involves physical abilities. Not so much with the talking.

Other stuff I don’t want to forget: He really, really loves lying down, especially if he has a blanket and a cup of milk. He doesn’t eat very much but is willing to try new stuff without too much of a battle. His favorite shows are The Price is Right and reruns of Friends (I’m teaching him to clap during the theme song) because we’re never home for actual kid’s shows and don’t have cable. His favorite books are “A Child’s Goodnight Book” and “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” – both were mine when I was a child. He will sit through a longish story book but still likes the naming-things books too. Sometimes he gets out of his big boy bed when he’s supposed to be napping, but he’ll climb back in when he’s tired and wants to sleep. He can take off his shirt and put it on again (although it might be backwards or inside out) and takes off his pajamas most mornings. He loves to stretch at the end of Stroller Strides because he knows it means he will get to run around in a minute. He is extremely loud and active at home but gets overwhelmed and sort of quiet when there are lots of other children around. He’s still willing to be held by strangers and gives out hugs and kisses to practically anyone who asks. Brutus is still his best friend. I love him.

Only 2 years from this...

...to this. Amazing.

I’m going to give you the most important piece of parenting advice you’re ever going to get:

Don’t listen to parenting advice.

At best, what you’re getting is someone’s own personal experience with a very limited number of children in a closed set of circumstances that you cannot possibly replicate exactly. At worst, they’re suggesting your dip your kid’s binky in Jack Daniels to deal with teething pain. True story.

Of course, no mother ever in the history of the world has managed to have a baby without getting some advice, whether she asked for it or not. For the most part, it’s all really well-meaning and kindly and just a way moms connect to other moms. It’s practically an automatic response, just like saying “Fine” when someone asks “How are you?” Someone holding a baby says “Jeeze, these diapers I’m using keep leaking” and BAM! I’m spewing word vomit about brands and sizes and cloth diapers versus disposables all over their face. I am totally guilty of the unwanted advice attack, even as I tell myself to stop.

The trouble is, it’s so damn easy to mistake advice for guidelines and guidelines for rules and as soon as something starts feeling like a rule the mommy guilt kicks in when you break them. When you’re exhausted and bleary-eyed and someone at playgroup says “You should put the baby to sleep in the crib so he gets used to it right away. That’s why my kids are such great sleepers!” suddenly everything you’ve been doing is wrong and those naps the baby’s been taking in your lap have doomed you to never sleeping through the night again. You’re a terrible mother!

Or when you mention in passing that you’re not really sure what you’re supposed to be doing with your infant all day long. I mean…she just lies there. Sometimes she smiles, but since she can’t even get her own hand in her mouth yet it seems a little early for baby signs or story time at the library. “Swim lessons!” says one mom. “Kindermusik!” says another. “Read her War and Peace!” says another mom, “Even though she can’t understand it it’s never to early to start the classics!” And then there you are, suddenly doubting the happy cooing and peek-a-boo games you’ve been playing aren’t doing enough to enrich your baby’s teeny tiny mind and she’s somehow falling behind the other babies before she can even hold her head up. Terrible mother!

Even really benign comments, like “I always put on make-up in the morning, no matter how busy my day is. It’s important to me to make the effort” can sound like “Look at you, you slob! I am judging your unwashed hair and pony tail and yoga pants! Obviously you’re just too lazy to make an effort!” especially to a new mom. Hell, you don’t even have to be a new mom, since every single stage of motherhood is challenging, every single time. A sleepless toddler thanks to his new big-boy bed is just as exhausting as a colicky newborn. An infant having trouble nursing is just as stressful as a 2 year old who won’t eat anything besides Goldfish. We’re all scared of making mistakes, all unsure about some of our choices, all blaming ourselves for every cough and sneeze and bump and bruise, so we turn to those around us, desperate for that one mommy secret everyone but you must know. But when well-meaning advice makes us feel even worse it is no longer helpful. You are the parent, you get to make the decisions, even if it is the total opposite of what your best mommy friend told you worked for her.

Of course, some advice is good. I want to kiss the person who suggested stickers as toddler entertainment right on their mouth. I’ve gotten great advice when it comes to breastfeeding from my (now defunct) nursing moms support group. And the internet has helped me in countless ways when I needed to connect and get a new perspective on what’s going on with my crazy toddler.

But in the end, don’t let anyone’s advice get in the way of your happiness.

Yesterday morning at Target I had an experience that left me feeling alternately overwhelming guilt and extreme anger (neither of which seems warranted but I’m really tired and overly emotional right now).

The kids and I haven’t left the house since last Thursday and if it was up to me we probably wouldn’t leave again until it’s consistently above 70 degrees, but a lack of cold medicine and Goldfish drove us from our cave and out into the world. And by world I mean Target. We actually did pretty well getting ready and packing up to go so it was early when we got to the store.

Now, with one child, my standard method of getting said child into a store was to park as close to a cart return as possible, toss my bag over one shoulder and carry the child to one of the carts in the return. Then I don’t have to worry about anyone running away or distracting me in a Dangerous Parking Lot Situation and we roll right into the store. The problem is with TWO children – especially when one weighs upwards of 30 lbs and the other is sleeping in a bucket seat – is I cannot carry them both safely at the same time. It is possible but not easy and not something I like to do, especially with the toddler in his current state of extreme defiance. I just don’t trust him not to thrash out of my arm when I’ve only got one to hold him with. So what I try to do when I have both kids with me is park directly next to the cart return (even if it means parking super far away from the store)(I actually prefer far away because then no one parks so close to your doors you can barely fit in the space to get the kids into the seats), lock the car, grab a cart and bring it back to the car to load the kids one at a time. I’ve always felt very comfortable with this situation, because my proximity to the car at all times means even in the extremely unlikely circumstance that I were to suddenly – KNOCK ON WOOD – drop dead while the kids were locked in the car, someone would notice them.

Unfortunately, because it was still really early and I was at the Target Less Traveled (you should be so lucky – brand new gorgeous store, almost always empty) there were only 2 carts in the entire parking lot and both were in a cart return in the only row full of cars. I drove around for a minute, hoping I could stalk someone out of the store to their car and grab a cart from them but no one came out. So I decided to pull through a spot one row over from the return. That way although I would have to trek across a row of cars to GET a cart, I’d only have to cross the lane of traffic to put it back.

So I park the car, turn around to tell Little Evan I’ll be “one minute”, which he repeats back and holds up one finger, and get out of the car. At that exact moment, cars pull into spots near mine. The guy in the truck on one side smiles and heads towards the store. No one gets out of the minivan on the other side. It isn’t until 5 seconds later when I’m on my way back with the cart, being extra-super-careful not to ding anyone’s car on my way through the row that I can see two women in their van making dramatic motions and pointing towards my van, where you can clearly see Little Evan sitting in his seat drinking his milk. I get back to the car and press the “unlock” button as dramatically and obviously as possible, wrestle the toddler then the infant seat into the cart and start towards Target. Only THEN do the women get out of the van.

After picking up all the essentials – cough drops, graham crackers, tiny pink cowboy boots – I successfully navigate checkout without accidentally stealing anything or letting the toddler fall out of the cart and head to the car. I open the right door with the remote, lock the (still sound asleep) baby’s bucket into the base, drop my bags under her seat, and close that door. I roll the cart around to the other side, wrestle the toddler into his car seat, put my diaper bag under his seat and close THAT door. Now I have an empty cart and two kids secured in their seats, so I press the lock button, dash across the lane of traffic and shove the cart into the (still empty) cart return.

As I get back into the car, I look to my left and notice those two women are sitting in their van, just watching me with their judgy, judgy faces.

I can’t prove they were waiting for me to come out and they never said a word while we were in the store together, although I passed them several times, but I would bet a MILLION DOLLARS the conversation they had when they pulled into the parking lot was whether to call the police and report children left in a car. I wouldn’t be surprised if they wrote down my license plate.

Or, hey, maybe I’m just being paranoid! Maybe they were waiting to see if I needed help! They’re just Concerned Citizens and they want to watch out For The Children! Such As.

So here’s the thing: Am I doing this wrong? Is leaving my kids in the car for less than 30 seconds at any given time worth the looks of scorn and horror these women were sending me? Trust me, I am VERY AWARE of the dangers of leaving your kid in the car but…I don’t think that’s what I’m doing here. I would bet the number of children hit by cars in parking lots is a lot higher than the number of children who are kidnapped while their mother grabs a cart. Even if you add in children who were left in a car for up to 5 minutes while their mom runs into a convenience store to pay for gas or buy some milk I think “hit by car in parking lot” would be significantly higher. I am making what feels like the safer choice in a situation that doesn’t really have a better option – at least until Target gets valet parking.

What say you?

I had a MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH this week. It is epic. Truly life-changing. I actually cannot believe it took me this long to get here, because now it seems so totally obvious. Are you ready to hear about it? Are you super excited?

OK, here goes…

I am a homemaker.

I KNOW, RIGHT?

I’m serious though. In 6 1/2 years of marriage (the last 2 1/2 of which I have not had an outside job) I have never thought of myself as someone who is in charge of a home. I thought of all the stuff that keeps this place running – cleaning and laundry and cooking and dishes – as CHORES, chores I hated, chores I tried to avoid. I spent a lot of time and energy being pissed off that I was expected to do these things. It’s because I’m a WOMAN. It’s so SEXIST and UNFAIR and DAMN THE MAN for pushing me into this gender stereotype!

Until I realized wait a minute…I wasn’t pushed into a role I was unhappy with. I wanted this. Yes it’s true that the other option – me working and E staying home – wasn’t ever really on the table (the Navy doesn’t exactly let you quit just because your wife is tired of doing the dishes) but his job stability and paycheck was part of why I signed up for this marriage. Wait, that sounds bad. What I mean is knowing E could provide for me and our future children was one of the things I liked about him from the start. Wait, that still sounds bad. Before we even GOT married we decided I would stay home once we had kids. We just forgot to negotiate out what “staying home” included.

(If you still think the previous paragraph makes me sound like a gold-digger, let me assure you, there is no gold to dig. There is maybe a frappuchino or two and possibly a new toilet seat – SO SEXY – to replace the broken one. But no gold.)

My “ah-ha” moment came the other night while I was trying to make dinner. I say “trying” because it is difficult to cook while a toddler throws his entire weight against the back of your knees and screams for more milk. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but you’re much more likely to cut off a finger and I kind of like having a nice even number. So, in a conscious act of gentle patient parenting (something I am working on SO HARD with mixed success and/or results) I got down on Little Evan’s level and said, “Honey, Mommy needs you to go play in the family room. Mommy is making dinner right now, which is part of her job. You know how I watch you during the day while daddy works? Well, right now I need Daddy to watch you while Mommy works.”

It was like a light bulb went off in my head. MY JOB. Making dinner is my job. Housekeeping is my job. I should have work hours and a lunch break. I should be allowed to do my job without the toddler climbing up my butt. People DO get paid for these things – a cook, a housekeeper – so why shouldn’t I value my work?

(Of course, none of that applies to motherhood. Kids don’t give a crap about my stupid “job” theory, especially when they need something something right now NOW I WANT IT NOW MAMA SOMETHING FOR ME NOOOOOOW. That also means parenting duties during hours we are both home are still 50/50. I’m not some kind of June Cleaveresque mommy martyr.)

So while E is off doing…nuclear Navy stuff, I am here doing the house stuff. There’s stuff that needs to be done every day, stuff I hate to do, stuff that has to be done a zillion times a day, and stuff that only needs to be done every once in a while. So I made a list. Actually, I made three lists:

Do these every day
– Laundry
– Dinner
– Empty and clean sink (my tribute to the FlyLady method and the ONLY part of her plan I’m adopting)
– Put all the toys in the toy box
– Feed animals
– Scoop cat box

Do one of these each day
– Clean a bathroom
– Sweep/mop downstairs
– Vacuum upstairs
– Dust
– Clean out fridge
– Declutter flat surfaces

Do these as needed
– Menu plan
– Grocery shop
– Buy bulk items (toilet paper, diapers, etc)

Yesterday I scrubbed down the powder room and it felt AWESOME. Today I straightened up the dining room and feel FANTASTIC. If someone were to stop by for an impromptu dinner I could not only feed them, I could serve it to them on a clean table. The best part is I am no longer overwhelmed and angry about all this housework. When I’m not spending all my time putting it off and sending E angry glares for not helping it doesn’t really take that long to load a dishwasher. Of course, on the weekends there WILL be helping. And when I am sick/need a scheduled day off (and there WILL be scheduled days off) I’ll have a concrete to-do list E can follow. It’s not fancy and it’s not worthy of a book deal (or even an Excel spreadsheet) but I do feel like this is a major change for the better.

Secret bonus part of my new “job?” I get paid in impromptu shopping trips to Target for new black flats and bright colored tights, guilt free.

Now excuse me, I have to go shine my sink.