I Hated Feminism... Until I Had Sons.

In my young and naive teens, I completely hated the idea of feminism.
All I knew of feminists were the stereotypes:
Man-haters
Bra-burners
Hairy armpits
Loud and angry
I mean, these ladies just needed to lighten up, right?!

I'm glad to say that I know better now, but it took me until motherhood to figure this out. Specifically, it took two little boys.
Of course feministic ideals benefit women and girls, but there is a good amount of benefits for the men in our lives as well. I wish we could just eradicate the word "feminism" from our dictionaries because I believe it implies that to be a feminist is to be feminine in some way. It's drilled into the minds of men and boys that they should not be feminine, so automatically they won't even entertain the idea of identifying as a feminist.
I would love to think that it's the only reason that some men aren't on board with feminism, although it isn't the case. But that's a post for another day.

When these little boys came into my life, I automatically started to think about what they will grow up to be like. Will they like cars or barbies? Sports or dance? Boys or girls? Blue or pink? I would love and accept them either way.

But would society?

From toddlers being called f****ts to dads masculinity being called out for doing their daughters hair, it's clear that equality needs to be attainable for both our sons and our daughters.
The thought of my boys being ridiculed for wearing a hairband, or playing with baby dolls, or even being a stay at home dad some day really upset me, so I started to search for ways I could make a difference in the way our society perceives masculinity.
My research always brought me back to one place: feminism.

At that time, I struggled with making the connection between my little boys and feminism. In fact, it felt downright counterintuitive.  Didn't feminists HATE men? But I'm not afraid to admit when I'm wrong, and my idea of what feminism is, was very very wrong. Any woman that hates men is absolutely not a feminist.

I would love to protect my little boys hearts from all the ugly hate in the world but unfortunately I can't always be there to do that. It's up to me to teach them to hold their heads high and be who they want to be despite what others might have to say about it. They'll know how to stand up for others that don't know how to stand up for themselves, and I have hopes that there are enough parents out there raising their children the same way. Maybe one day we can retire the word 'feminism' and make humanism happen.

How to NOT Suck at Relationships

I will have to include a disclaimer on this one: I'm not an expert. I'm not a couples therapist or a psychologist or anything special. And anyone has the right to disagree with this list.

I've been in relationships. Long ones, short ones, serious ones, ones that didn't work out, and finally, the one that lead me to the wonderful man I call my husband. I pretty much had the basics of relationships down by the time I got into my twenties. Of course I made many mistakes along the way. But some people seem to take a little longer to even grasp the basics. Entering their 30's while still dating like a highschooler.

But don't fear! Here's a basic, easy to follow list of the basics on how to NOT suck at relationships.

1. Don't Assume Anything. Ever.

Don't assume they will take out the garbage. Don't assume they know why you are mad. Don't assume they know how much you care about them.  This is only going to get you into some serious trouble right off the bat. Just talk, openly and every day. Are you mad at them? Tell them why. Don't make them ask you 5 times before blowing up at them. Chances are, if they are asking you why you're mad... then they probably don't know why you are mad.

2. Don't Listen to Those Shitty Facebook Pictures.

You've seen them, I've seen them. A picture in black and white, vignette around the edges, and some crummy quote or saying plastered right in the middle. Usually it's something along the lines of "Text her every time you're thinking about her, even if it's 3am. It will make her day." or "If she's mad, pull her close and kiss her."
I'll tell you what, if I get a text at 3am that wakes me up, I will get out of my warm cozy bed, and I will come and find you. Chances are, I will not be happy. Nor would I be happy if you try to kiss me while I'm angry. Not everyone wants this. And if you aren't willing to be the one to do it, then no one should be expected to.

3. Actually, Just Stay off Facebook Completely.

Your significant other should NEVER find out that you're angry at them through social media, for all the world to see. Your friends and family aren't going to be able to fix your relationship, so why are you dishing the details with them (and me)? I don't give a shit that they went out with friends and left you home, or that they picked up hours at work and ditched your dinner date. Hey! Maybe, talk to them about it! I bet they have a better chance at fixing it than me! Chances are, people will either think that you're a shitty person, or will think that your boy/girlfriend is a shitty person. Do you really want that?

4. Don't Expect Diamonds.

Or an XBox, an Ipod, a laptop, a fancy home. It goes right along with the shitty Facebook pictures. Would you blow a weeks worth of your earnings to get them some expense crap? If not, then why are you expecting it? Or hey, maybe you DO think that's how you show affection. Let me give you a few other options.
Grab their plate for them when they are finished eating so they don't have to get up.
Pick up that movie they've been wanting to see on your way home from work and watch it together.
Scrape the ice off their car in the winter before they have to leave for work.
Things that say, "Hey, maybe I didn't buy you a fucking yacht, but I got your back."

5. Don't Go Psycho.

So maybe things didn't work out this time. That happens. Sometimes it ends on a good note, sometimes it's a little messy. Either way, don't turn into a psychopath because it didn't turn into what you wanted. If you start bashing them to Facebook or anyone who will listen, you'll start to be known as a psycho. That doesn't generally start your next relationship off on a good note. Learn from it, let it go, and move on. You'll be just fine.

A Very Special Thanks

Father's Day is just around the corner, and it always seemed to me that Father's Day doesn't hold that special impact that Mother's Day does. Everyone I spoke to around Mother's Day was trying to figure out that perfect, sentimental gift or outing for their moms.

I think that Father's Day should have that same feeling.
Because I know one very special man in my life that deserves that.

He became a father in 2012. He was scared, and so was I, since this was our first baby! He grew up helping to raise his nieces, but this was his very own flesh and blood that we were solely responsible for.
He spent nights awake with our son, walking with him, bouncing him, telling him about the world. I could see in my sons eyes when my husband was holding him, there was a very special bond there, one that I wouldn't be able to understand.
Of course we have our own bond as well, but... this was just different.

Time passed, more quickly than we would have wished it to, and our baby grew. He learned to walk and talk, and he needed us every step of the way. And his dad never missed a beat when it came to keeping up with him.

Then came baby #2, and it was a whole new world. We were more confident, and sometimes one of the babies needed to wait a few minutes while the others needs were met, but everything was ok.
My husband was still there, strong as ever, the steady rock that our family has come to rely on. He naps with #2 on his chest, close to his heart, and has his own sling to hold him close when we are out and about.
I can see that same look in my second sons eyes.

It's such a beautiful thing to see, and I'm so proud of my husband. Not every woman and child is so lucky to have such a great example of fatherhood in their lives, but we have it.
I know that he doesn't always think that he is enough, and he worries that he wasn't cut out to be a dad. But I don't think he was more perfectly built for anything else.

I often envy how easy he makes it look, although the struggles of parenthood are real for him too. I can only hope that his sons see him for the amazing father he is, and grow to be amazing fathers as well.

Thank you Steven. I really mean that.

Why Don't We Talk About Two Under Two?

I'll give it to ya straight:
Having two babies under two years old was not part of the plan.
My first (Ivan) was only 9 months old when I found out that I was pregnant with Ezra. The day I found out, I remember having a full blown panic attack. And crying. There was lots of crying.

It isn't that I didn't want more kids. At least one more baby was in our future, but I was thinking a little bit farther into the future.
A lot of my anxiety stemmed from the fact that I wasn't thinking about what Ivan would be like 9 months from then. I imagined 9 month old Ivan, and a newborn, and that was scary.

The months leading up to Ezra's birth, I scoured the internet for advice on raising two babies under two years old. Can you guess what I found?
Close to nothing.

I could spend all day wading through articles and forums about first time moms, surviving multiples, ect.
The few articles I did find really only told me one thing: You're doomed.

So I spent most of my pregnancy mentally preparing myself for this to be the absolute hardest thing I would ever endure in my entire life.
As you can imagine, that doesn't make for a very peaceful pregnancy.
But, now Ezra is here, and nearly 3 weeks old already. Man that goes fast. And I wanted to be the one to step out of the darkness and shed some light on the world of two babies under two.

First of all, you are NOT doomed. It isn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but this has been a lot easier than I expected.  Ezra has already started to fall into Ivan's routine, and it's making the transition pretty smooth.

Second, you will never know how baby #1 will react until #2 shows up. I was so positive that Ivan would be very jealous. I also thought he might want to try breastfeeding again when he saw little brother doing it. Man, was I wrong. Ivan is a fantastic, helpful big brother (with no interest in nursing anymore)

Thirdly, any anxiety, or even possible resentment, that you are having about a second pregnancy so soon will fade away when the baby shows up. Well, I guess I can't say that with 100% certainty, but it was try for me. I spent a lot of the pregnancy being anxious about the upcoming change, and there was a lot of hurt thinking about how Ivan would no longer be my "baby." But the bonding process seemed a lot smoother this time around, and all those feelings went away quickly after meeting Ezra.

I may be missing some points I wanted to mention. Both babies are asleep and I should be too, but I felt it was important to (hopefully) but to rest some of the fears that others might be struggling with through their journey to two under two.
Just remember that you're a lot stronger than you will ever give yourself credit for, and these days turn into years much, much too quickly.

The Big Breastfeeding Breakdown (Almost!)

My breastfeeding experience with my first son was definitely NOT all rainbows and butterflies. We struggled with everything from nipple shields, false information (including supplementing!) low supply, shallow latch, and blisters.
Yes, blisters. On my nipples.
Ouch.

But, about three months in, we sorted everything out. No more nipple shields, no more supplementing with formula.
I was so proud of the both of us for working through all the issues and terrible advice. We went on to happily breastfeed until he was about a year old. I was 3 months pregnant with my second son when he weaned himself.
It was a nice, gradual, gentle process for the both of us. Though, I was still sad to see the experience end. But... in six short months I would get to pick up where we left off with number two!

Or so I thought.

When 35 weeks rolled around, I set up a birth plan. I didn't want the same birth that I had with my first son. I had an epidural, 12 hour labor, 2.5 hours of pushing, nurses took him and I didn't get him back (or even get to hold him for the first time) until a few hours after he was born.

I was convinced that all the intervention had something to do with our horrible start to breastfeeding. So this time was going to be different.
And it was!

He was born with no pain medications, placed directly on my chest, the nurses did their business while he was skin-to-skin on me, and we breastfed right away. This time was going to be so smooth!

Fast forward, to the first few days home. Baby boy #2 (lets make this easier, #2 is named Ezra) wouldn't wake up to eat. I tried every suggestion I could find online. Every. Thing.
He would only wake up on his own every 4 hours to eat. On top of that, he struggled with figuring out how to latch.

He lost weight, more weight than what was considered normal. He would latch for about 30 seconds, pull off my breast, get frustrated, root around, and when he couldn't manage to latch back on right away, he would just fall right back to sleep.
I was so scared. The hospital assured me that the sleeping would get better.

About a week in, he became more awake. Ezra now is almost 3 weeks old, and he is still struggling with his latch. It takes a good 15-20 minutes to get him to latch on. This has become extremely frustrating since he wants to eat every 30-60 minutes. I'm barred to the couch 3/4 of the day. I have an 18 month old to chase after, this makes things a little tricky!

But finally, to the heart of the story.

We went shopping today, and like clockwork, Ezra became hungry about 30 minutes in. I have no qualms about feeding in public, so I tried to nurse him in the sling. I tried. And tried. He wouldn't latch. Again.
My husband and I had a serious conversation about the possible, actual, NEED to supplement. (Trust me, I know the horror stories, since my occupation as a breastfeeding counselor.)
We quickly finished up, and ran to the nearest Walmart. Ezra screamed out of hungry frustration all the way there. I bawled in the passenger seat.

All that work, making sure the birth was perfect to get breastfeeding off to the right start.
And I still failed.
I didn't want to sacrifice my baby's virgin gut. I didn't want supplementing to hurt my supply. I didn't want our breastfeeding journey to end.

Hubby ran in and bought the small pack of pre-mixed formula.

But I couldn't bare to use it. We pulled off to the pack of the parking lot and I spent the 15-20 minutes to latch him on, and he did eat. All while my 18 month old sat impatiently in his carseat.
I felt a little better. We weren't cracking open the formula. Not just yet anyway.
Although Ezra was still hungry after that good long feed, I strapped him back into the carseat and we headed home.

The formula sits up in our cabinet for now. I'm hoping to keep trucking through these challenges and end up throwing it out. I hope. We will see what the new day brings.

The Dark Side of the Postpartum Mommy

No one warned me about the effects of postpartum hormones could have on a new mom. Everywhere I looked, I saw ads with moms swooning over their new little babies. In movies the women would light up when their tiny infant was in their arms.

And then there was me.

It didn't take as long as the websites all said it would. 3-4 days after birth, that big wave of hormones could cause up to 80% of women to experience baby blues.

I only got 1 night.

The second night in the hospital with my first son, my husband and I were cuddling up our new little addition while the TV played in the background Toy Story 2. The song "When She Loved Me" started to play (you know the part when Emily decides she is too old to play with her cowgirl doll named Jessie...) That's when I lost it.

I couldn't seem to stop the constant stream of tears. I took an hour long soak in the bathtub there in the hospital and just thought. I thought about how my life would never be like it used to. I thought about how I wasn't good enough for this little human. I thought about how this would effect my marriage.

But those thoughts didn't go away after the bath was over.

I cried every day, all day long, for weeks.

I knew I loved this little baby with everything that I had, but I didn't feel like I would ever amount to the mother he deserved. I thought about whether he would be happier with another mom. A "perfect" mom.

Those feelings did fade after a few weeks. But I was absolutely unprepared for what those hormones put me through.

And it happened again (though less intense, and for a shorter time) when my second son was born.

I've started to feel like new moms might need some kind of... warning, you might say. I would have loved for someone to tell me, "You might be emotional after your baby is born. That is okay."

No one should feel like a crummy mom because they need to cry after their baby is born. But who wants to spoil the blissful high of pregnancy?

Maybe some day, a little more information will make it's way to the public, and help new moms realize that they ARE good enough, no matter what those nasty hormones have to say about it.

When Does It Get Easier?

I was that new mom once, just like you. I would drag my weary body out of the bed I didn't get any sleep in and throw on my "nice" pair of yoga pants. I would try my best to juggle the new role as mother every moment of my being, and I would fail as much as I would succeed.

I know you're overwhelmed, and nothing is like it used to be.

And this is when you ask yourself, and every mom friend that you have, "When does it get easier?"

If you're like me, you never really get the answer that you're hoping for. We're all hope for a specific timeline of when our lives will resemble some form of normalcy. But the overwhelming majority answer our question with, "it doesn't."

Nothing could be more discouraging in the midst of your sleepless stupor, while those postpartum hormones are crashing.

Being a parent isn't easy, I'm afraid to say. But I want you to know that it DOES get easier, just not in the way you might think.

One day soon, these nasty postpartum hormones won't have you crying at the drop of a hat, and it starts to get easier.

One day, you'll realize that taking you're adorable addition to the grocery store alone isn't so scary anymore. You'll know what to do if they start to cry, and the diaper bag will be packed and prepared for anything.

One day, you'll be planning a day trip without anxiety about how the little one will act. Instead you'll be excited to see their reaction to your adventure together, and you'll know to take the little meltdowns in stride.

One day, and it's sooner than you could imagine right now, you're baby will sleep through the night. You'll have time to yourself in the evening and not even know what to do, and it will get easier.

One day, you'll have an intelligent little person to walk beside you, to have a conversation with, and you'll have the privilege of knowing what all your hard work accomplished. 

In the meantime, just know that it's okay to feel this way. It's okay to not have the answers right now, and it's okay to mourn your pre-baby life, no matter how badly you wanted this baby.

It doesn't make you a bad mother to cry. 

But at the end of the day, just remember that it DOES get easier.