Worth Bragging On

Thinking back on my life, I can think of countless times my mom bragged about me.  Even my smallest accomplishments made her proud.  I didn't understand the fuss over finally spelling "daughter" correctly (seriously, why the u-g-h??), perfecting my cartwheel or landing a duet in my church youth group's play.  Actually, I can understand the last one- I'm a LOUSY singer and the fuss was probably a way to give me confidence, even though I seriously STUNK.  I was easily embarrassed by the attention lavished on me for my accomplishments and just didn't get it!

Before I had Bryson, I remember people saying they didn't like seeing babies all over Facebook.  In hindsight, I realize those people probably aren't parents.  I'm a sucker for kids and puppies, so I never minded my newsfeed being plastered with gummy grins and first steps, but now those pictures excite me even more.  Now that I'm a mom, I understand why parents think seemingly mundane activities, like sleeping, are worthy of a shoutout on Facebook.  My kid is a cute sleeper and I would hate it if people had to miss that he passed out holding his bottle or that he's taken over Mommy's bed yet again.

I'd hate those of you who aren't my Facebook friend to miss the cuteness of him falling asleep on Mommy's pillow... with a bottle.

I am extremely blessed to have friends with babies close to Bryson's age.  Since I'm a new mom, there are so many unknowns and having people to bounce things off of is a tremendous help.  I have people to tell me what works for them or about their experiences with certain sippy cups and diapers.  I get to vent when I'm having a hard time with a new phase, and I have people to celebrate with when we reach a milestone.  As an added bonus, I get to see lots of baby feet, new crawlers and funny sleeping poses when I sign on to Facebook.

In having so many mommy friends, I have also experienced a concerning problem that I think all mothers can relate to.  Since children develop at their own pace, it's very easy as a mother to get wrapped up in what your child is or isn't doing.  At one time or another, most of my mommy friends have expressed jealousy for something Bryson is doing that their child isn't, and in turn, I have reciprocated those feelings for something Bryson hasn't yet mastered.

Yesterday, I was talking to a friend whose child wakes up at 3:15 AM like clockwork.  She's exhausted since she doesn't go to sleep at 7:30 PM like her child.  Of course, since she's so fatigued, she's jealous that Bryson sleeps so well.  Our conversation eventually moved to her child's new mobility and it was my turn to be jealous.  I have a child who has ZERO interest in crawling and prefers to stand.

I read an article a few weeks ago on parenting a boy that also addressed baby comparison and our conversation reminded me of it. In a world of competition, it's so easy to put your child on a stage and have them compete without their knowledge.  For some reason, we want "bragging rights" over developmental milestones.

All those years ago when I told all the boys in my class that girls ruled and boys drooled, I was right.  Go figure.  Babies have been studied for years, and it's a scientific fact that girls develop quicker than boys.  Of course, contrary to every female's belief, it eventually levels out and boys catch up to their female counterparts developmentally.  (Of course, every random scratch in public and other caveman-like behavior would make you think differently.)  So what does this mean for us moms of boys?  It means we get the shaft now, but when they're in their teenage years, we get deep voices while moms of girls are dealing with periods, girl fights and bras!

It's easy to get discouraged if it seems like everyone else's baby has reached a milestone and yours is far behind.  It's just as easy to get overly excited when your baby reaches a milestone well before his/her peers. (S)He'll reach one milestone months in advance and may reach the next one months late.  The timing doesn't matter- every baby will reach milestones at a different pace and at this age, worrying over whether he/she is slow or extremely gifted is silly.

I'm saying all of this [from the comfort of my soapbox] to try to drive the point home- each baby is his or her own person.  (S)He is perfectly content with his/her development and is happy right where he/she is. The only person in this competition is you.  Don't drag your baby into it.  (S)He already has too much going on in his/her body and mind.

Being a mom is hard enough without this weight we add to our shoulders.  In today's Pinterest-inspired society, women are expected to be tiny with an awesome wardrobe, to have an immaculate home with a design worthy of the front cover of Better Homes & Gardens and to be able to cook elaborate meals complete with an artfully decorated cookie for dessert.  Add being a super mom on top of it, and a woman's circuits are easily overloaded.  I say we, as women, declare to drop the expectations we put on ourselves and our children.  That means being healthy and attractive to your husband, but not killing yourself to be a size 0, using the homes we're blessed with to keep our children dry and safe and feeding our families healthy meals, even if they taste much better than they look.  Most importantly, that means continuing to be a super mom, but only because that's what your child needs you to be, and not to ensure your child is superior to other kids.

No matter where your child is developmentally, every milestone is worthy of praise.  His first tooth is exciting, and her first steps are worth celebrating, so even if your child is "late" to the party, it's worth shouting from the rooftops... and posting on Facebook.

Roxie

My Christmas list usually consists of things like Buckle jeans and Sperry boat shoes. I officially entered adulthood Christmas 2010 when the top spot on my wish list went to the Swiffer Sweeper Vac. Throughout college, the regular Swiffer was enough to clean the tiny kitchen in my 40-year-old townhouse. It got under the dishwasher, refrigerator and the washer & dryer that sat in the corner like an extension to the countertops (only a man would design this setup- who wants to cook and do laundry in the same room???) With a grown-up house, I needed the bad boy. Like Tim Taylor on Home Improvement, I needed POWER (insert grunts here) to tackle the tumbleweeds of hair roaming the baseboards of my new abode.

Quick, convenient and effective! It was floor care nirvana!

When Clay and I got engaged, I found myself roaming Bed, Bath & Beyond for hours. A salesperson suggested we register for everything from trinkets like wooden spoons to more expensive appliances like the Roomba. I looked at him like he had a martian growing out of the side of his head and thought to myself that nobody was going to buy us a $300 gift and if they do, it won't be something boring like a floor cleaner.

Thankfully, I was wrong. Meet Roxie the Roomba.



Hubby's coworkers threw us a shower last Wednesday. A few of them went in together and adopted Roxie for us. I never thought the addition of a new appliance would be so fun. I’m fascinated by this thing. I like to watch her move across the floor and see what she can pick up. So far, she loves to feed on hair, dead bugs and the occasional blanket. She isn’t a fan of raw broccoli florets, but then again, without ranch dressing, neither am I. While I was cleaning the rest of the house Saturday, Roxie was busy working on the floors. When her job was done, she scurried back to her dock and I swept. The debris pile was only a quarter of the normal size. Job well done, Roxie.

On Roxie's first night at home, Jenna, the scaredy-cat Dobie/Lab mix, was not too gracious about sharing her territory. When Roxie got close to her toys, Jenna's maternal instincts kicked in and she leapt on her toys in a heroic effort to protect them. On several occasions, she jumped at Roxie and knocked her off her path. After a few attempts, Jenna is much more comfortable with her new buddy and lets her frolic through the house uninterrupted.

"The older you get, the better you get... unless you're a banana." Thanks, Rose Nylund, for these words of wisdom. I feel less like I am on the road to walkers and Aspercreme after writing this post. As the big 3-0 approaches, that phrase won’t suffice. Maybe I can find an appliance that mops and dusts to alleviate a little of the pain.