I’m a journal whore. I cannot have enough blank books in every room of my house, just waiting for me to jot down inspired nuggets of brilliance, poetic stanzas, novel starters, effervescent bon mots. Or a shopping list that identifies that that I’m out of Pledge.
Like many dutiful first time mothers, I took pictures of my growing belly (and unfortunately, thighs and butt) every month until I had my daughter. But what exactly are you supposed to do with those photos? And don’t say "screen saver."
My daughter has officially reached that very important developmental milestone known as the sticker age. If it’s got an adhesive back, then to her it’s the single greatest thing since ice cream–Scotch tape included.
Ever since I was introduced to momAgenda, I’ve scoffed at those other datebooks. Try fitting pediatrician appointments, playdates, and field trips for two or more kids into those little spaces and you might as well just write it all on the back of your hand.
At the request of my husband, I have curtailed my purchases of hordes of children’s books for my avid little reader. And while being relegated to the library isn’t such a bad thing, there’s something about a crisp new book that I just can’t let go of.
Nothing says "last minute afterthought" than a present in a regifted gift bag. Believe me, I was the worst offender. But since having children, there’s just something about watching a little one tear through a nicely wrapped package that warms my heart.
It seems that poor dads-to-be get shafted in the baby gifts department. Sure, maybe they’re not so into opening up cute onesies or the softest burp cloths, but that doesn’t mean the dads don’t deserve a little token too come shower time.
With the digital age upon us, there’s no shortage of pictures of my kids.But unlessI want to myfriends huddling aroundmy laptop,there’s no actual enjoyment of my handiwork (the kids and the photos) to be had. I think it’s high time I develop a few of the photos and get an album that’s just as beautiful as the kids inside.
One of the hardest aspects of being a working mom is that first day back to work after maternity leave. All things being equal, most of us would rather be at home wiping bums than at the office with our noses up one. Or at least for a few more months.
Having a baby can even the most organized of mothers a run for their money. And save having a personal assistant, it seems like it’s a common known fact that moms just aren’t going to be able to keep everything together as well as they did pre-kiddo.
My first child, I’m fortunate to say, is healthy as a horse. But my second child: Ear infections up the wazoo. Even though there wasn’t a ton of medical info to keep track of, especially compared with children with real illnesses, there are many times I wish I’d written down what that Motrin dosage was or which antibiotic had her spewing fluids from both ends.
With all the hormones rushing through my body and my brain cells being sucked awayby the minute,there’s no way I could possibly keep up with everything that goes along with having a baby. OB check-up stats? Baby Registry? Daycare interview? Ack!
The lovely yet ill-conceived baby book is almost a guaranteed shower gift. While we all love to keep track of the milestones as best we can, let’s be honest, those early days are exhausting. If you’re going to spend the energy keeping track of details, it’s not going to be things like "the outfit baby wore on her sixth day" or "the date he got his fourteenth tooth"
I’m not a brag book kind of gal. It’s not that I don’t love showing off pics of my daughter–just ask anyone who’s ever come within six inches of me over the past year–it’s that I don’t need yet one more big thing to weigh down my already overloaded bag.
There were a few precious pieces of furniture we sacrificed after having kids, but our gorgeous coffee table? No way.