Motherhood: Lessons Learned

When we decided to get a pug puppy back in 2007 (after me waiting almost 30 YEARS for this little ball of fur), I did a great deal of due diligence research. I searched out the most reputable breeders in the area, visited the local dog park to get owners' vet recommendations, read my Pugs 101 book cover-to-cover, and purchased doggie health insurance. I typed up and printed out a lengthy list of questions to grill the breeder, to make sure we weren't inadvertently supporting some backyard puppy mill. Likewise, the breeder wanted a good deal of information from me before we even met, to make sure she wasn't handing off her pup into the hands of a dog murderer. How long had we been married? (Only one year...minus 2 points) Where did we live? (in a 3-story townhouse...minus another 2 points) Would the dog have a yard? (technically yes, all 10 square feet of it. Minus 1 point) Did we have any other pets? (2 cats. Minus 4 points) What was our plan of approach to handle potty training? (Uh...take him outside when he needs to go? Minus 7 points) At the end of the conversation I somehow managed to overcome our -37 point score and convince the breeder that we were in fact capable decent puppy parents who would provide a safe, secure, loving home. Even despite our lack of adequate turfgrass square footage. 

Suffice to say, the pug has had more than a comfortable life with us. He has been doted upon hand and foot, catered to his every whim, received only the finest veterinary care (to the tune of $2745 for doggie MRI's and a spinal tap when he had his seizure a few years ago) and been properly socialized with trips to the dog park, petsmart, and doggie daycare. So it stands to reason that all the due diligence and preparation was well worth it...we successfully mastered the art of raising a puppy.

Raising a baby, it turns out, is not quite as simple.

Even though I attempted to be as well-prepared, everything I thought I knew, all the books I read and classes I took, turned out to be only a teensy-tiny small sampling of the extraordinary skills required to master motherhood. Sure they offer a breastfeeding class to teach you how to properly hold the infant in the right position, but what do you do when it's 3 am and the baby's been screaming for 5 hours from acid reflux and you're not sure if she's eaten anything at all? Sure you can read the chapter on how to wrap the baby in a swaddle, but what do you do when the kid is 4 months old and busting out houdini-style 6 times every night and crying to be re-swaddled (only to bust out again)? It's like they only give you enough information to make you THINK you have a vague idea of what you're doing, only to realize later that this is entirely a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-puked-on-pants gig.

I'm no motherhood expert by any means, but at least at this point I feel capable of reflecting on some of the parenting disasters lessons I've learned. On Mother's Day last year Caroline was still an infant, with so many milestones yet to come. Now she's a walking talking bundle of energy who has keeps me on my toes at all times. But I feel so much more capable, so much less like a newbie. I've been around the block a few times (while jogging and pushing a running stroller, no less!) so in honor of the holiday I thought I'd share some of the motherhood truths I have slowly uncovered in the last year. Here's what I wish I could go back and tell my pre-baby self.

1.  You will sacrifice your dignity on the delivery table. And it's never ever coming back. Remember Dante's Inferno, Abandon all hope, ye who enter here? They should post a nice big sign above the door to the labor and delivery wing at the hospital, abandon all modesty, ye mothers who enter here. Back in the day I was as modest as a mouse and hated the thought of all the, um, 'in your face' action required to bring a baby into the world. But the many incessant visits to the obgyn's office throughout pregnancy (and the increasing uncomfortableness of those visits) truly does take a toll on your modesty. And by the time the baby was ready to make her grand entrance I think I would've flashed my girly goods to the janitor if it meant we could speed up the process and get the whole thing over with. It turns out this was just the beginning of the end of any shreds of modesty I had left. Now with a toddler running around I have an audience for any and all bathroom activities. Nice.

2. Never ever ever make any bold declarations with the word 'never' in regards to parenting. It will come back to bite you, guaranteed. Whatever lofty ideals you espouse pre-baby will surely come crashing down in ways you never expected. Exhibit A: I always swore 'I'll never let my baby watch tv.' I didn't watch much tv when I was a kid (thanks mom!) and I figured the baby should be similarly sheltered. Besides, in our overly-media-saturated society I feel strongly that kids these days are losing the ability to engage in quiet creative free play by themselves. I vowed that MY kid would NOT watch tv until she was at least 3 years old. HA. HA. HA. What you naively don't realize is that sometimes Daddy will have to go out of town all week on business trips and after 3 days of running the household entirely on your own you will be craving 10 MEASLY MINUTES to sit down and eat a meal in peace and quiet. Or that the baby will require a militant medication schedule composed of 3 different medicines, and sometimes a little tv is the only way to kill 30 minutes peacefully after medicine has been dispensed before she's allowed to eat. Or that the thought of driving 4+ hours alone with a carseat-averse toddler will make you RUN to the nearest Best Buy in search of portable DVD players and Disney movies.

3. Whatever it is, this too shall pass. This is not forever, it's just for today. This is probably the most helpful concept I've learned to embrace. In my pre-baby world, the parameters were pretty consistent. The rules and routines didn't change. Thus when the little bundle of joy came along it seemed like, ok, I'll learn to master [swaddling/feeding/burping/whatever] and we'll be set. But as soon as I learned to deal with whatever challenge I was facing, the little rugrat also adapted and changed the rules again. I became a master swaddler, she became a master escape artist. We finally transitioned to sleeping in the actual crib vs. the papasan chair, and she discovered a whole new big 'playground' in which to climb, roll, and play instead of sleep. She started walking and is freely able to choose what toys to play with, and now she doesn't want to be confined to the playpen for playtime. All the little improvs and sanity-savers I've devised, she works around them and presents a new challenge. I didn't grasp this concept in the beginning, and it seemed overwhelming...when she was 6 weeks old and fussing and crying all the time it seemed like 'what have I gotten myself in to?!', not realizing that this was just one phase that would pass, only to be replaced with a new phase and a new challenge. Now I'm better about trying to take it all in stride and know that whatever is going on today, probably won't be going on in another 3 months. She changes constantly.

4. Trying to find new mommy friends is like going on a blind date, with so much more at stake and without the benefit of free dinner. I have several friends that are moms, but most of them a) live out in the burbs and b) have kids that are older than Caroline. Thus arranging playdates with them is a bit of a challenge. So I decided to embark on a mission to find some new mommy friends that live in the city and have kids closer to Caroline's age. In sizing up potential new friends I run through a checklist of characteristics that would make match.com envious. Is she clean and well-dressed, but not so well-dressed that I feel like a schmuck in comparison? Does she travel with a well-stocked, somewhat cute diaper bag full of essentials that I could borrow if I forgot something? Is her kid a holy terror who makes my skin crawl or would he be a good influence on Caroline? Could we survive a trip to the zoo/park/playground/shopping mall with kids in tow and have a good time, or would it feel like more work than it's worth? Turns out I have high standards and, like dating, not everyone fits my criteria. But unlike dating, after an unsuccessful mommy-date I'm still hungry. They really need to create a website for this.

5. The 'work' I do today has forever lasting implications. There's still a lot of debate today over the benefits of stay-at-home moms vs. working moms, and I too struggled with the decision about whether or not to go back to work. I missed the projects. Interacting with professional colleagues. The thrill of giving a successful design presentation. Watching my designs come to life through the construction process. Feeling like I was contributing something useful to society. I flip-flopped back and forth several times before the baby was born, and after, about what I ultimately wanted to do. But the thing that kept coming back to me was the thought that, at the end of my life, what will be the measure of success of my life? Will I be hailed in the landscape history books as one of the most cutting-edge landscape architects? Will my name be etched in glass in a distinguished alumni wall of fame? Will I look back and think, man I'm so glad I worked all those nights and weekends and got the Providence Park project construction documents issued in time? Or would I look back and think, man I wish I'd been there every single night to tuck my daughter into bed and read her a story? There's just no comparison. I choose my daughter, hands down. I'm fortunate that I even have the option to make such a decision. Sometimes I feel guilty for being so tired at the end of the day, since I didn't go to "work" at an office all day, but then I remember that my work at home right now is just as important (and just as tiring!) as slaving away at a desk job. Only my boss at home throws temper tantrums when her needs aren't met. (ok maybe my 2 jobs are more similar than I thought...)

Before becoming a mom I had never....

-agonized over the logistical implications of visiting 3 different cities in Louisiana on Christmas day. (Doing the frantic house-to-house dash without children involved is tricky enough...doing it while toting an infant and an entire carful of her gear: INSANITY.)

-polled my friends for the solicitation of the best butt cream (Boudreaux's, Desitin, or good ole Vasoline? Which has the most water-resistant formula? The best coverage? The longest-lasting? Inquiring minds want to know.)

-searched high and low for the absolute perfect Halloween costume in July (It's never too early to start planning ahead...)

-agonized over the number/frequency/timing/consistency of bowel movements. I am now an expert on poop.

-seriously considered purchasing the background check that is offered for every caregiver on care.com for the low low price of $19.95. 

-put a bottle of hand sanitizer in every single room in my house. and had to re-fill them on a regular basis.

-argued with a rubber ducky over whether the bathwater is indeed too hot. (the duck keeps insisting it is too hot. I think I got a defective duck.)

-forgotten to feed my dog his dinner. (poor pug just gets lost in the shuffle sometimes...)

-squealed with delight at the sight of a newborn. anybody's newborn. complete-and-total-strangers-in-church's newborn. 

-actually enjoyed getting out of bed in the morning 

-installed a carseat in less than 2 minutes with one hand (next time i'll try for blindfolded standing backwards)

In spite of the enormous learning curve, I think I've adapted pretty well to my new mom role. And it's so true when they say, motherhood is the hardest job you'll ever love. I feel so blessed to be the mother of sweet bubbly little Caroline. She brings more joy to my life than I ever could've imagined. And even though Winnie won't admit it, I think secretly she's starting to grow on him as well. (Perhaps the abundance of food dropped from her high chair helped warm his heart.) 

Happy mother's day!