One is the loneliest number

Um. Hi. I'm Amy. This is my blog. I've been missing for a while. Sorry. You probably forgot about us here.

I have excuses. Most of them are lame, so I'll spare you.

I do have one pretty good one...

While I've been away I've been gestating our second baby!!!! I'm just a few days shy of 14 weeks and feeling pretty healthy. We should be welcoming our little bundle around April 23. (Or not. Little Man was three weeks early, so I'm not marking my calendar or anything. This one will come when he or she comes.)

With Little Man, I was tired and sick. The nausea was pretty constant for about 12 weeks and there was some (but thankfully not much) puking going on. I was also really tired. This time the first twelve weeks were pretty much the same--except I never did puke (praise be!)-- but chasing a toddler around definitely made it seem much, much harder. Some days I didn't know if I was coming or going.

I'm not complaining. I know as far as pregnancies go, I've been blessed. I'm so, so, so lucky. Thus far (and hopefully throughout) I haven't have debilitating sickness or chronic pain. I can stay active and live my nine months virtually unencumbered. (Or as unencumbered as one can be while growing a human being--its all relative, right?)

In the photo above I'm obviously unencumbered on our recent 25 mile bike ride in West Virginia. Not every preggo would be able to do that, I suppose. It was, however, a completely flat 25 miles, so don't get too impressed with my feat.

But enough about my pregnancy symptoms and bike riding prowess. Lets talk about the title of this little post. See, I'm an only child. (Technically, I do have step siblings who I love very much, but because of age differences and living situations, our time together was limited.)  While I don't feel like being an only child made me lonely per-se, I did often see my friends with siblings and feel a twinge of jealousy. Beau, on the other hand, has three sisters. I'm sure that posed its own set of challenges when they were younger, but family get-togethers now are so incredibly fun. Beau and I both wanted to be able to give Little Man a sibling (or two, who knows what the future holds...) to share life with.

Part of me thinks we might be absolutely insane for having two under two years old. Sometimes our house is absolute chaos with just one energetic toddler. What could it possibly be like with two? I push those thoughts away and think about what it will be like to have two kids who are close enough in age to be buddies. Yes, basically I ignore the initial years when my twenty-three month old won't understand why mom isn't his and his alone. I'm ignoring the thought of my three year-old trying to play with my one year-old and being too rough or getting frustrated with not being able to play the way he wants. I know all of these are teachable moments; they are life lessons that need to be learned. So, perhaps that's why I ignore my inner anxiety and I focus on our sheer joy. Yeah, we'll go with that.

When I was pregnant with Little Man, Beau kept talking about going for Irish twins. Since he didn't go through pregnancy or labor, I felt I had the authority to veto that idea quickly. When Little man was about a year old I got more comfortable with the idea of going through the whole ordeal again. (And baby fever started to hit hard...)

And, well, to spare you the details here we are. We're happy. We're nervous. We're perhaps a little crazy. Most of all, though, we know we are blessed.

So, dear readers, thank you for your patience while I've been "away." Thank you for spending your time reading about and caring about my family. Hopefully I'm back and I'll be able to share our chaos with you far more regularly!

Any advice for a soon-to-be mom of two?

Traveling with a toddler

I'm pretty hesitant to post about mom stuff. I mean, come on, this is my fist time at the rodeo. What do I know? It's all trial and error for me.

With that said, I'm not sure that having four, six or eight kids would make me feel any closer to being an expert. (That's totally not something I want to test out, either.)

Recently, a few people have commented on my "bravery" in traveling with Little Man when Beau is unavailable to join us. I didn't ever really consider it brave. (Or stupid, or crazy, or inspiring or any other adjectives assigned to our adventures by outsiders.)

Just this morning we returned home from our weekend in Chicago for my first BlogHer conference. This time I didn't travel solo. My wonderful, sweet, kind mom came with us. Her pseudonym from here on out will be Granny Nanny. (Don't worry, she likes it.) I realized during this most recent trip that traveling with kids can be hard. It doesn't have to be. (And by kids, I mean my one kid. Moms of many, I don't pretend to speak for you.)

Here are some pieces of advice I have for moms of toddlers who want to travel. I've tested these on planes, trains and automobiles. They work. At least for my kid. I've even tried them out traveling solo with him. I'm still here to write about it. Go figure.

1. Accept help
This one is the hardest for me. Just ask my mom. She saw it first hand this weekend. I am fiercely independent. I have an "I can do it" attitude about most things. I fully realized the benefit of accepting help last night when Little Man was asleep on me and I was trying to figure out how to get my backpack down from the overhead and put it on without waking the sweet baby. Mom was further back on the plane, so I was going to have to do this on my own. (Yes, I realize I could have waited for her to get up to us. I didn't think about it at the time.) The sweet grandfather who shared our row of seating offered to get my backpack for me. Instantly I felt less stressed. He was also sweet enough to offer to carry my bags off, but that seemed like overkill given my proneness to fierce independence. I'm a work in progress, what can I say.

Likewise, I've had strangers offer to help carry the stroller down stairs where a ramp wasn't available. Doors are often held for us. These gestures are so, so helpful.

Say thank you. Profusely and sincerely.

And if you refuse help, do so politely as well. Don't be the one to make the person offering not want to help another solo mom some other time.

2. Don't expect help
People will help. Probably. Except for when they don't. Don't count on it, and don't expect it. Formulate a plan that you can manage on your own. That means you should have the means to carry all of your luggage and manage your child at the same time. When we flew to San Diego, Beau's company booked his flight and because of logistical difficulties, Beau had to book us on a different flight. Little Man and I flew across country on our own. The most difficult part of that was that I carried his car seat with me because we rented a car and I didn't want to rent a sub par seat (tried that once, wasn't impressed) and I didn't want to check his seat (the abuse that luggage takes can damage a seat and compromise your baby's safety). This meant that I had to traverse the airport in Detroit with a baby, a car seat, and a diaper bag. I erroneously didn't want to deal with a stroller in the airport, so I didn't bring one. There was no nice grandfather on his way to visit his grand kids to help me in this case. There were a lot of people in a hurry to get where they needed to be. I was just another ant (albeit a baby wearing ant) in a maze of other ants.

Instead of expecting help, I prepared to make the plane change on my own. I wore Little Man on my chest in his Baby Bjorn and made sure that I could balance his jumbo car seat on my hip and still walk a good distance at a solid clip. It would have been nice to have had help, but I didn't need it. We made our connection with enough time to grab a sandwich and have a college age couple comment on my car seat/baby carrying guns.

3. Prepare, but don't over pack
When I travel alone I bring extras. I have "just in case" stuff. A just in case magazine or two. My laptop- just in case I want to write. A water bottle just in case I want to fill it up after getting through security. Et cetera. You get it. When traveling with a person who doesn't contribute anything to the experience (aka your offspring), you get to play Sherpa. It ain't as fun as it sounds. Know how many diapers your little one will use, and then plan on bringing just a few more. (I know, mom, I over-packed diapers this trip...) Know which small toys and books will amuse your little one and just pack those. If your little person is as nosy curious as mine, you won't need many toys. The airport should be stimulation enough. And on the plane, Little Man could have played with the shade and little lap-table-thing for days. Know your child well enough to know what amuses him or her. A new toy? Get one. Can't survive without his or her lovie? Pack it.

Even if you aren't flying and the amount of luggage is a non issue, remember, you'll have to carry it, load/unload it, and pack/unpack/repack/unpack it. Bring what you need plus a little extra and call it a day. Do keep in mind that if you don't bring an extra outfit or two there will be a poop explosion or something equally messy and stinky. Preparedness is not synonymous with over packing. Know the difference. 

4. Give yourself more time that you think you could possibly need
This last trip, mom and I could have booked a connection that would have gotten us back to Richmond earlier. The layover would have been less than an hour, though. I wasn't keen on the idea of changing planes with a toddler in Atlanta with less than an hour between flights. We probably could have made it, but it would have been tight and I would have been stressed. Be aware of layover times, the size of the airport you'll be changing planes in, and any customs requirements when booking your flight. Plan according to your needs.

Similarly, plan to get to the airport earlier than necessary to get through security. On both legs of this trip I got pulled aside to have my bag searched. While it is perfectly within FAA regulations to bring as much food or liquid as is reasonable, my bags got flagged and the food packets got pulled out and the bag rescreened. Likewise, it takes a few minutes to take care of strollers and seats, get the little one situated back in the seat or sling, put shoes back on, etc. It is much easier if there is no real rush.

Little Man and I have made two road trips to West Virginia when Beau's work schedule didn't allow us to join him. The drive itself is a pretty straightforward five hour drive. I never plan it taking five hours. I know that we will stop at least once for a nice stretch, meal and diaper change. We'll play for a little bit and I'll let him expend some energy. I never know how long this will take and I have learned not to begrudge it. Giving him time to recover from being strapped in a seat for a lengthy period makes the rest of the trip go by smoothly. Be aware and considerate of your little person's energy level.(Because if you aren't you--and possibly the other 100+ people on a plane--will suffer through the ramifications of a baby who has too much energy and nowhere to go.)

5. Always pack food
Even if I'm driving an hour to see family, I pack food. It may just be a small baggie of crackers and a sippy cup, but it is food nonetheless. Sometimes that hour turns into two plus hours because of traffic. Sometimes a 45 minute flight sits on a tarmac for two hours. Sometimes the food/beverage cart on the train is out of food your baby can/will eat.  Those packed snacks can often keep a meltdown from happening.

And that is very good.


6. Be flexible
Travel is stressful. Babies and toddlers are stressful. The two of them together could very easily be a stress cocktail. Don't let it be. If traffic has you stopped long before you planned your leg-stretch stop, let the traffic dictate your stop instead of your agenda. If your flight is cancelled or your bag is lost, calmly ask the airline personnel how they are going to remedy your situation (and then thank me for reminding you to pack that extra outfit and a few extra diapers). If your baby ALWAYS eats a nutritious and balanced meal at noon but the plane is still ascending, distract him or her with a cracker or whatever you have handy and let your schedule slide for a day. Having goldfish for lunch one day will not have long-term affects on his or her health and wellness.

Travel is exciting and novel for your baby. It is also overwhelming. Schedules will be thrown off. Routines are out the window. Be ready to adapt to that three hour time change or missed nap. Plan for what you can (i.e. Little Man's inability to go to sleep at a decent hour the day we make the five hour road trip to WV) and be cognizant of the fact that you can't plan for everything (maybe a lost lovie or pacifier). You can only adapt. Be ready to adapt to any number of events.

I truly believe that babies react to our stress. If you are flexible and calm, your baby will use those cues to formulate his or her reaction to the trip. 

Here's wishing you safe and happy travels.

What other general travel advice do you have to share?

June update, sort of

Ok, so I'm a little late with the June update, but there has been a bit of progress in West Virginia. We have done some demolition which is always fun. We are almost to the point where we can start making the middle floor habitable. More on that in a second.

The big news, though, is that I am currently writing this post from West Virginia. Wait, what? Yeppers, folks. We have wifi and I am a happy camper. You know who else is a happy camper? Andy, our super cool renter who has been reliving the sad, sad days of life pre-Internet for much too long over the past few months. He's pretty thrilled. See, it is quiet here. Like eerily so. Had I not gone up to the village Monday to take care of some stuff and go to Starbucks, I could have easily gone over 24 hours without seeing anyone but my Little Man. He's not the best conversationalist, being one and all. (Reason #4,239,742 that I love Starbucks.)

Despite the normal solitude up here, this past weekend was not so quiet. This weekend Snowshoe hosted a Grand National Cross Country (GNCC) Racing event. It was decidedly un-quiet. Andy, said super cool and helpful renter, warned me against coming up this weekend. In fact he said he did everything in his power to not have to work this weekend so he could, as I believe he put it, "get out of Dodge". But, since the modem was being delivered and I am a control freak, I wanted to make sure everything was hooked up as needed. Also, because Andy was going to be gone I didn't want the package with the modem sitting out front when ten gazillion people descended upon the mountain like locusts.

(Photo by Cinnamon Mitchem)

Come to think of it, from a distance dirt bikes might sound a little bit like locusts descending upon the mountain.

This is what one end of our road looked like while races were underway.

 

 

Yep, that's the top of the stroller. We were silly enough to walk up to the village to check things out. Walking back entailed being just a few feet from the racing dirt bikes. Needless to say, naptime was cut a little short. (And I had visions of bikes careening into us or rocks flying at us. #notarelaxingwalk)

 

We got a little closer to our house and realized the street was being crossed by the racers. Hmmm. How does one cross over when one is not on a dirt bike and is pushing a stroller?  

One waits for the perfect moment when there is an appropriately wide gap between riders and one runs like a crazy person. In the meantime, we watched. I thought Little Man would be scared of the noise, but he was absolutely fascinated.

 That's because he's all boy.

(Photo by Cinnamon Mitchem.)

 

As he watched the various races with rapt attention, got muddy, and rolled around, his mom had a vision of what this little person might be like in about sixteen years.

 

(Photo by Cinnamon Mitchem)

 

And while it might be creepy that I have a photo of two random strangers on my blog, I seriously think that the blond boy on the quad is giving me a brief glimpse into my future. It makes me want to cry. Not because he's dirty and someone has to wash those clothes. And not because what he's doing is dangerous and scary. Because I bet his mom looked at him when he was one and getting mud on the knees of his Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls, blinked, and opened her eyes to this grown person.

 

Sigh. Look at me getting all mushy.

 

Anyway, if Little Man wants to forgo the dirt bike and quad riding and become, say, an artist, I've got material for him on the very same mountain. 



 

Even with the distant buzz of locust dirt bikes, there is serenity in this sunrise. (I know, I know, the transition between the boy on the bike and the sunrise probably needs work. I just wanted to show you guys how cool the low-lying morning fog looks and let you know that even though the mountain was crawling with locust-people, it is incredibly beautiful.)

Ok, enough of outside, I told you there was demolition done.

This actually took place in May. The only work I did this weekend was some spackling, sanding and color testing. And I didn't take photos. And I told you I was writing this from WV (where I could just snap a photo), but that was yesterday when I started writing and now it is today when I am finishing. Forgive me.

But lets go back to our May demo. Remember the rooms with the stinky carpet?

It is gone.

And for good measure, we pulled up the little bit of hardwood in the hallway.

Why, you ask? Well, now we have a blank slate upon which to put a lovely new floor! I'm super excited to get busy painting and putting in floors. Someday in the relatively near future we might actually be able to sleep in a bedroom instead of in the middle of the living room. (But don't get too excited, there is a ton of work to do to get us to flooring instillation. Boo hiss.)

Jealous of our current set up? You should be. Its bleakness made Betsy cry. Yep. It's that bad.

First birthday party

Let's be real. I'm not one of those moms who can execute a perfectly organized, adorable themed party. I'm just not really that much of a detail person. More so, I'm not one to remember to take photos of everything.

And, Little Man is one. So, really the "perfect" party would have been more for me to show off than for his enjoyment. So, we kept it pretty sweet and simple.

I did put quite a bit of effort into designing the invitations because I figured I couldn't let my vast experience in graphic design (read: eight years of advising a yearbook and ten years of school newspapers) go to waste.

This is what I came up with:

I simply designed them using Adobe InDesign, printed them on card stock at Staples, stuck a mustache sticker in the middle and glued 1/4 of a piece of 12x12 scrapbook paper to the back of the invitation. I got a combo pack of paper at Target, so there were different patterns of paper for every 4 invitations. The argyle above is my favorite. Because of that "vast experience," they were pretty quick and easy to whip up.

As far as theme went, I decided that a "Little Man" party seemed appropriate since I refer to him as Little Man here. There were mustaches, and that was pretty much as far as I took it. I got finger 'staches, but totally got so busy with everything party related that I didn't take many pictures of kids and adults "wearing them". Mom fail number two: an improperly documented first birthday party.

Take my word for it, finger 'staches are fun.

I kept decorations pretty simple. We did balloons and streamers, a "Happy Birthday" banner I plan to use for all future birthdays (from Target), and some chalk "art" to welcome guests and show where activities and beverages were.

The only mustache decoration that I did get was a wall decal that I put on the glass of a shadow box frame with some of the paper from the scrapbook pack I got for the backing of the invitations. It'll hang in Little Man's room as soon as I get around to figuring out where exactly it belongs.

It looks off center, but I had to put it where it was for the "e" to fit on the glass. 

The only other mustaches were on the cakes.

I got a cake from Costco because, really, who doesn't want an excuse for that chocolaty goodness? They say that they don't do custom cakes, but I put a note on the cake order form that I'd like a mustache, but if they couldn't customize it I'd take a dinosaur for my son's mustache party even though a dino made no sense at all. 

They did a mustache. 

Because Costco freaking rocks. Even though they left off "First" between Happy and Birthday. Whatever, we got a fat, brown mustache on our cake. 

I wanted Little Man to have his own cake to smash and go crazy with, so I had a dear friend who also happens to be an incredible baker make some cupcakes.

They were adorbs.

They were also pretty healthy. (Especially when compared to the Costco cake with two pounds (!) of fudge mousse in the middle...). She used fresh strawberries for a strawberry cake and a cream cheese/whipped cream type frosting. And, as you can see, she also used chocolate molds to make chocolate mustaches. Isn't that the cutest thing ever?

Anyway, on with the smashing. Notice I removed his shirt in preparation for some messy eating.

 First, he took a look at the cake. (This was after "blowing out" the candle. Where I inconveniently stepped in front of the camera. Mom fail three.)

He's eyeing the cupcake as I remove the paper. He's so going to dig in and smash away. Look at him sizing up that cake. He's at the ready. He's going to pounce.

Oh, wait. No, there is not an ounce of cake smashing joy there.

But he liked looking like a Big Man, so that was cute.

After that anti-climactic thrill, I went inside to cut and serve the big cake. After that was done and I was enjoying my slab piece of cake, I thought maybe Little Man takes after me and would rather dig into a slice of quadruple chocolate, super sugary cake.

This was a little more of what I was expecting, though he still wasn't as messy as I thought he'd be when I envisioned his cake smash.

 After getting cleaned up, Little Man played at the bubble station with his friend Ellie.  By played, I mean he shook a bottle of bubbles as Ellie stood next to him and played with a plastic cup. One year-olds are cray cray.

 After Ellie went to play on the swing, Little Man pretended to drink from the empty cup.

I know, I know. I throw a wild party.

Because our neighborhood is full of kids of all ages, I tried to have activities that would amuse them all. I had a sidewalk chalk area that was fun for the older kids for about 27 seconds.

Or however long it takes to trace everyones' feet and draw a few pictures. I think after that they went next door and played in the play house. After the party I brought over the streamers and balloons and they decorated it and made a fairy play land. It was pretty cool, and they enjoyed it very much. Yay for imaginative play.

The party was a success. There was snack food, more than enough cake, and just enough beer to keep our neighbors and friends chatty without anyone waking up the next morning on our lawn. 

One of my favorite images from the party is of these two future and forever BFFs.

Hey, it is hard to get a 12 month old and a 6.5 month old to look at the camera at the same time. (Or at all, apparently...) Despite that, there's a whole lot of cuteness going on there.

All of this happened on Memorial Day, but Little Man's actual birthday is the 29th. Here he is on the morning of the 29th. My one year old baby. Sigh.

Even right out of bed he's a happy guy! I'm a lucky mom!

Since he'd tasted and enjoyed refined sugar for (pretty much) the first time on the 27th, I thought I'd give him a breakfast treat on his actual birthday.

I made homemade waffles with fresh strawberries and real whipped cream.

 Holy yum.

I'd never actually made "real" waffles. I always use that boxed stuff.

Never again.

Perhaps soon (after I experiment a bit more), I'll post that recipe. You'll love me for it.

Little Man liked the waffles almost as much as I did. Here he's blurrily signing for more.

My new plan is to do waffles with strawberries and whipped cream for every birthday!!

After breakfast it was time for the reveal of Little Man's big present. Dude got a trike! 

He loved it. Look at that concentration.

                                                

Look at him showing off for the neighborhood ladies. Heeeeyyyyy, ladies. I've got a ride now. 

I could just eat him up. 

I can't believe it has been a year. In so many ways it seems like so much less than that, but then at the same time it seems like I've loved that little person forever. 

I can't wait to see what this next year has in store for us. It'll be an adventure, for sure!

Do you have any birthday traditions like waffles or a banner? 

Big changes for this girl

My dad was a teacher at a community college for just shy of thirty years. He married a coworker, an English professor. When I was a teenager I'd see her grading papers for her classes and think she was absolutely insane. I distinctly remember saying (on more than one occasion) that I'd NEVER even consider being a teacher. And certainly not an English teacher.

Fast forward to college where I decided that teaching wouldn't be so bad, but there was no reason anyone in their right mind would choose to teach high school students. Right out of college I got hired at a high school that had a separate campus for ninth graders. That seemed doable since ninth graders couldn't be that much different from the eighth graders I'd just student taught. 

I fell in love with it. The kids were interesting and challenging.

Two years later,  I moved to Virginia and got hired at a 9-12th grade high school and was assigned both ninth and 12th grade classes. I was 24 years old and terrified.

They weren't so scary. They were kind of fun, receptive, smart, funny, (and yes, frustrating, lazy, snarky and cocky). I fell even more in love with my job. I knew I had found my calling and was at home in the classroom.  I spent the next ten years there. And at the risk of sounding arrogant, I think I was pretty good at it. 

While I'm not noble by any stretch of the imagination, I feel that teaching is an absolutely noble calling. I proudly tell people I teach. I take my job very seriously and work very, very hard to be the very best teacher I can be. I have been guilty of  putting my job before my personal life more than once.

Today did something I never thought I would do. I officially and respectfully submitted my resignation. Looking back at this post, I probably already knew that today was coming, but the part of me that lives to teach has been in denial.

Last week human resources gave me the daunting task of either resigning or coming back to work "at the first available vacant position for which I am qualified." That language scared me. There are 11 high schools in my school system, 15 middle schools and an alternative school.  I knew that my school didn't have a vacant position. I decided to resign. (The school really is that great.) And then Wednesday I got an email saying that my school had a part time position waiting for me if I wanted it.

It was, for all intents and purposes, exactly what I wanted.

Except it wasn't.

And I decided to check the "I do not wish to return to a position at the end of my leave" box.

That makes it sound like it was really easy. It wasn't. I hemmed and hawed and soul-searched until the last possible moment.

The end result: I'm no longer a teacher. (OK, that's not true. I have a class I need to teach on Monday, so I should probably not be quite so melodramatic.) I'm no longer a high school teacher. Whoa. Short of a few community college classes here and there, my entire professional career has been in high schools. And now it isn't.

While I'm a little bit dazed, I'm also completely confident that I have done what is right for our family.  Today Little Man giggled as I chased him, he shoved food into his mouth with his meaty little hands and he stood on wobbly legs and moved his hips like Elvis. I got to see all of that. I'll get to watch him grow and change next year, too.

We're excited.

What changes are happening in your world?

Books for Parents

I told you yesterday that I have stuck to one resolution in my whole life. Here it is.

If you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of a nerd. It's true, and I don't mind one bit.

One of my nerdiest endeavours is my book log. In 1999 I decided that I was going to resolve to read two books a month (or 24 books a year--sometimes months get hectic) starting on January 1, 2000. Because I have a terrible memory, I started writing down which books I read. Eventually the notebook entries got transferred to a spreadsheet (soooooo nerdy!) and now I have a digital log of all of the books I've read over the past 12 years.

Stop judging me. This is a safe space.

There have been a few years where I didn't reach my goal of 24 books. Other years I've greatly surpassed it. The cool thing about the log is that I can look at it and tell what was going on in my life each year. Tons of Brit. Lit? Finishing up my master's degree with back-to back Victorian literature classes. Fluffy beach reads? The year I got separated from my ex husband and spent the summer engrossed in more desirable, fictional worlds while laying on the beach. Books pertaining to pregnancy? 2012, the best year yet.

In looking back over my log, I realized that I read a lot of really interesting/ informational/funny/silly books on pregnancy and parenting and I thought I'd share some of them with you just in case your reading material is going to quickly shift from, say, Victorian literature to pregnancy and parenting books. Taking a trip to the bookstore and browsing the pregnancy/parenting aisle can be overwhelming. There are thousands of other titles that I'm sure are fantastic. These, though, are the ones that I picked up and enjoyed or found useful.

The Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy was my pregnancy Bible for all nine months. What to Expect, another popular title. was just a little too much for me. What I liked about this book over WTE was that instead of being scary with all of the possible things that can go wrong each month, there is a very handy chart at the start of each chapter that tells readers when/if a doctor should be consulted. It's very matter of fact and calm, like talking to your supportive doctor versus consulting Web MD. (Never do that while pregnant, BTW.)

This book is huge, but laid out in a way that is manageable. Each month is laid out as a chapter or section (then broken down to weeks), so I could focus on what was happening to my body, my mind and my baby. I'd read what kinds of changes to expect, what was normal, possible and concerning. I could go on about this book for pages, but I'll spare you. I'll end with this: if you are pregnant, planning to become pregnant or thinking about someday having a baby, this is the one book you need. If you touch nothing else from this list, do use this book as your basic all-in-one guide.

I got Beau My Boys Can Swim for Christmas last year. He kind of glanced at it, chuckled, and tossed it aside. A few days later, though he read it. It is only 112 pages and has pictures-- little cartoon-like drawings-- so it is totally easy and quick to read. It covers all of the stuff that guys should know about pregnancy (gas, hormonal surges, delivery, etc.) in a really funny, light way.

Some of the online reviews of this book suggest that author Ian Davis is insensitive and uninformed. When I purchased the book, I realized from the (perhaps a little offensive) title that it wasn't going to be like the Mayo Clinic book. Davis uses anecdotal events from his wife's one pregnancy to help other expectant dads out. It's like a new dad taking an expecting dad out for beers and a quick preggo-primer and this is something I think lots of first time dads would like. I know Beau has had quite a few conversations about pregnancy, parenthood, and childbirth with the guys at work to get the inside scoop.

I actually read the book before giving it to Beau. Some Amazon reviews suggest that anyone who enjoys the book is a moron who shouldn't reproduce. I happen to have enjoyed it and think I am the opposite of a moron. Instead of that harsh evaluation, I can say that anyone who enjoys this book is the kind of person who makes light of serious/sometimes scary/overwhelming situations and can have fun learning. I was stoked Beau read it. (But I was also stoked when he joined me at the maternity classes for some "real" information.)

From the Hips has a lot of overlap with Mayo Clinic. With that said, I'm glad I read both. This book uses lots of anecdotal information from "Anonymoms", which I generally found to be useful. The layout is a lot more fun, modern and playful. This book is kind of like sitting around with a variety of girlfriends who have all had babies, have had a glass of wine and are telling you the truth about their experiences. The tag line says this is an "open-minded" book and I really do think it is. For example, when it discusses breastfeeding it acknowledges that breastfeeding isn't for everyone, some people just can't get started for whatever reason, pumping and some work schedules just don't work, etc.

To be honest, I stopped reading the book when I got to the delivery portion. I wasn't really ready to read the anonymom accounts of that. It scared me a little and made me want to avoid the actual birth process. I think that reaction was because of where I was in my pregnancy when I started reading that section. When I looked over that section again after having Little Man, I'm not really sure what freaked me out so much.

But then, maybe that's because my birth experience was worse than the ones that had scared me in the book...

I think I was working at Barnes and Noble when this book was first published. I didn't read it then, but I hated it. I was so annoyed that a quasi-celebrity was trying to get back into the mainstream of pop culture by writing a book. I assumed she was vapid and unfunny.

I'm kind of a B-word, that way.

After the ladies on the pregnancy forum I was a part of raved about it, I thought maybe I could let that opinion slide and check it out. I'm glad I did. Jenny McCarthy is funny. I could relate to her. (She weighed her boobs--I totally wanted to do that!)

This book is irreverent and a little pointless, but it did offer chuckles and some relief because of her brutally honest reflections on what was happening to her body. I had quite a few "Thank God I'm not the only one" moments. I think that's important during pregnancy because at times you really do feel like you are the only one. (Despite thousands of years of pregnancy and childbirth..)

This book, like the two pregnancy "guides" above, should absolutely not be read from cover to cover in one sitting. When my sister-in-law lent it to me early in my pregnancy (at about 18 weeks) and I flipped through it, she advised me to tuck it aside and refer to it as I got to each stage addressed. So, when we got on the airplane a few hours later, I tried to read it from cover to cover. I think I made it three pages. She was right. Not only is it a lot, a first time mom has no way to really relate to any of the material. It was much more effective to read as I was going through each "stage" of nursing.

After Little Man was born I asked Beau to bring this book and the breast pump to the hospital and I began reading (and pumping...). It was very helpful. Each section has been equally helpful as I reach each milestone. In fact, I referred to the book just a few weeks ago when I was trying to figure out how to introduce solid food to Little Man and still breastfeed him.

I'll come back to it when it is time to wean him, too. Very handy and usefully organized.

I would say that most parents leave the hospital with their first baby not having a clue about what to do. Beau and I felt like that. We got home, put Little Man in his crib to nap and looked at each other with a dazed look on each of our faces. What the heck do we do with this human being? How do we not screw him up? Where is the instruction manual? This book was recommended to me by Cyndi. This is her Bible of childhood. I purchased it shortly after Little Man was born when Beau and I realized we had no idea what we were doing, what we should be looking for, or what to expect. It is kind of a five year extension of a pregnancy book in that it discusses changes to expect, milestones to reach, and various kid-things. Praise God.

It has become my baby Bible. Like the pregnancy books I discussed, a portion of this book is laid out in a super friendly way--month by month which I refer to as I reach each point in Little Man's development. It also deals with other topics which are so plentiful I'm just cutting and pasting a list from the Amazon book description to spare you guys the pain of my lengthy explanation:

• Basic care from infancy through age five
• Guidelines and milestones for physical, emotional, social, and cognitive growth
• A complete health encyclopedia covering injuries, illnesses, congenital diseases, and other disabilities
• Guidelines for prenatal and newborn care with sections on maternal nutrition, exercise, and screening tests during pregnancy
• An in-depth guide to breastfeeding, including its benefits, techniques, and challenges
• A complete guide for immunizations and updated information on vaccine safety
• A guide for choosing child care programs and car safety seats
• Ways to reduce your child’s exposure to environmental hazards, such as secondhand smoke
• Sections on grandparents, building resilience, media, and multiples
• New chapters on sleep and on allergies—including food allergies
• New content on prebiotics and probiotics, organic foods, and other healthy lifestyle topics
• And much more...
(Thanks Amazon!)

This thing is just shy of a thousand pages. It is basically the instruction manual you realized you needed when you came home with your first kid. I highly recommend it. as a very handy resource.

 

I was going to leave Bringing Up Bebe off my list, but when I really thought about it, I wanted you to know I enjoyed this book. Not all of it. But enough of it to find it very useful and informative. More than that, it was interesting. I really enjoyed looking at motherhood in a non-American context. I think part of my interest comes from being an educator. I see the good, the bad, and the ugly results of parenting. Given the ways kids have evolved in the thirteen years I've been in the classroom, perhaps the American methodology is not working. I really wanted to see how another culture approached parenting.

 

This book is not a Bible, nor does it intend to be. It is a book of observations on how the French style of parenting differs from that of the American style and that there might be some wisdom in the French style. Obviously, we are not in France, so to take this book as a how-to would be silly. Instead, I encourage new parents to look at this book as a sociological study on a different parenting style. Parts of the book made me want to be French--specifically the chapter on "doing their nights" and getting kids to eat real food. (Because a culture of sleeping babies who eat real, non-chicken finger meals appeals to me.) If you read this you might find yourself adopting parts of French parenting so that you, too, can have independent, sleeping, eating, polite, mindful children.

 

Or, maybe, you'll chuck the French style and adopt your own methods of creating independent, sleeping, eating, polite, mindful children. That is totally possible. No one, especially the author, is saying American babies have to be rude, dependent, cretins.

 

I probably have other titles I could recommend. This is a good enough list to get you started.

 

Do you have any suggestions? What worked for you?