Today's New Mom Confessions comes from Olivia who blogs at The Lovely Sisters. Olivia and I met through Rookie Moms and she lives on Long Island with her husband and adorable eight month old son Weston. She actually runs her blog with her sister, Jenny and it's chalk full of great tips and stories about their lives - everything from gift guides, to style, to Paelo recipes, it totally makes me wish I had a sister to blog with! When she's not blogging, she's teaching middle school Latin and Ancient History (Impressive, right?), quilting, cooking Paelo, and constantly rearranging her living room. Beyond her blog, you can find Olivia in all the typical spots, Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest.
When Laura asked if I wanted to do a New Mom Confessions post, I realized I had so many confessions my head started spinning. Isn’t that sort of the definition of being a new parent? Having so many parenting fails, hacks, and the occasional a-ha moment? I’m so honored to be sharing my confessions on Oakland Avenue, and please, don’t judge my crazy too harsh!
- Sometimes our days zoom by, and by the time I pick Weston up from my mom’s after school, and we get home, wash bottles, play, and make and give him dinner…I often don’t have time to eat! So, what’s a busy working mama do? I simply set up dinner for myself in the bathroom and eat during bath time! He’s a happy little fishy, so it gives me a good 15 minutes, sitting on the toilet, using the sink ledge as a table, to eat my dinner and watch my little guy “swim.” Sanitary? Probably not as clean as the kitchen table, but hey, it works! (Except, uh, for those times that he poops in the tub...way to kill an appetite!)
- I take pride in dressing Weston NOT like a baby. Is that weird? Probably. He owns nothing with an animal (except his alligator playing the guitar shirt, because uh, duh), nothing pastel, and nothing baby blue. Seriously. I also have these weird rules for myself about what he can wear; like, if we’re hanging at home, we change out of PJs to sweat pants, but if we’re going out, he has to put jeans on. Who cares? Me, apparently. I don’t even have those rules for myself. (Hello, yoga pants!) Motherhood makes you kooky about totally mundane issues no one else cares about.
- I rarely call Weston by his name. Usually he’s Bubba, Monkey, Munkin (that’s a combination of monkey and pumpkin), or the derivative of Munkin, which is Munkle. Sometimes he’s Boo-Boo, and often he’s Westaboo. I’m shocked the kid even responds to Weston!
- When I found out I was having a boy I was terrified I wouldn’t know how to talk to him, relate to him, or know what to do with him. I even felt disappointed for a little bit after I found out he was a boy, and...worse, I weirdly felt like I had let my family down. I have no clue where those feelings came from, but looking back, I’m going to blame hormones. That boy is my best friend, and quite simply, the nicest person I’ve ever known. Plus, he’s obviously going to be taller than his short mama, so I’ll need him around to reach things. (Forever, right? They never move out, right?)
- Speaking of short, I’m really short. This wasn’t a problem in parenthood until recently when Weston started pulling himself up and chewing on the crib! We had to lower the mattress to the lowest setting, which means that I can’t easily put a sleeping baby down in his crib. Which means...I often accidentally drop him slightly into his crib. He usually wakes up when I do this, and then the cycle begins again. I’ve started using a step-stool he got as a gift to put him in his crib!