Friday, January 3, 2014

parenting fails, 25 days old

First. I am really sorry. I am totally behind on reading everyone’s blogs and commenting. I’m working on it, I swear. Right now I’m just too busy failing as a parent to make time for thoughtful commentary BUT I am reading. Comments soon to follow, scout’s honor.

And now, without further adieu, eight ways[1] I’ve failed as a parent in less than thirty days. At this rate, child protective services is on their way who knows what gems the next 18 years will hold!

1. Visits from guests who have not demonstrated satisfactory immunization histories
Friends of ours mentioned that they had once tried to visit another friend and her new baby only to be turned away until they were up to date on ALL OF THEIR VACCINES AND HAD RECORDS TO PROVE IT. We laughed our naïve little heads off for hours at these silly, overly cautious and foolishly prudent parents. And then we cried. Because we are bad, bad parents who barely required our guests to wash the snot off their hands.

2. Copious hours of forbidden “screen time”
The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that you refrain from exposing your child to screen time before age two. But with Netflix as my new breast friend[2], this child is bound to grow up thinking that the Duggars and the Kardashians are his parents. So he’ll be a… fundamentalist Christian with between six and nineteen children and a series of very short Hollywood marriages. NOTHING CAN GO WRONG!

3. Formula is liquid poison
As my three loyal readers already know, we descended into the world of formula feeding last week after a few unsatisfactory weight checks and what appears to be low milk supply <waves to the crowd, gesturing at boobs>. And now, at least from what I can read on the big, bad interwebs under the cover of night, deciding to supplement is basically akin to feeding my delicate snowflake liquid poison/committing child abuse AND all cans of formula should come equipped with (a) no fewer than four pre-written rejection letters from ivy league schools and (b) referrals for a bevy of psychotherapists. Dearest child, you’re welcome.

4. Our empty baby book
Our empty baby book. In which I have literally written not one word. But we did save the NYTimes from the day he was born. Because he’ll DEFINITELY want to read coverage of the “crisis” facing the Insane Clown Posse as of December 9, 2013. (And while I haven’t written a thing in his baby book, I did totally give myself a GIANT pat on the back for saving his itty-bitty hospital bracelet that looks like it would fit around the ankle of an ant. I intend to present it to him at his high school graduation/his first meeting with his probation officer. I’m pretty sure he’ll thank me.)

5. Allowing my developing-bad-habits-as-quickly-as-possible newborn to sleep everywhere other than his crib
I know. This is a tired, old story. But nearly a month in, it still holds true. E will sleep anywhere as long as it’s not in his crib. In my arms. In his stroller. In his carseat. In C’s arms. In the arms of unwitting and possibly intoxicated strangers encountered on the street in the dead of night. Etc. It’s a fine balance because on one hand, you want him to sleep, but on the other hand… I forget. I’m too tired.

6. Humiliating onesies
I have allowed my son, on three non-consecutive occasions, to wear ridiculous and humiliating onesies – Hand-Me-Downs all of them, I swear – that say things like “Daddy’s little hero!” (above a little embroidered taxi cab because, um, obviously?) and “I love hugs!”
In my defense, on at least one of those occasions, it was 4 am and my adorable boy had just sent a stream of hot urine at least a foot in the air, landing directly in his left eye. As soon as I finished laughing hysterically[3], I had to dress him as soon as possible and the little taxi cab number just happened to be on top. <hangs head in shame>.

7. Baby as dinner napkin
As aforementioned, see (5) supra, my son, the little devil, prefers to sleep in my arms over literally everywhere else. And because I’m nothing if not a pushover, I indulge him. Which means that I eat most of my meals while he’s draped underneath me like a dinner napkin. So far, I’ve pulled sandwich crumbs from his hair and pretzel crumbs from the tiny folds of his neck – seriously, who knows what lives under there. And, if I’m being honest, it’s possible that a piece of veggie burger got wedged somewhere in the depths of a striped SwaddleMe. So far he doesn’t seem to mind.

8. More germs
As if our unvaccinated visitors weren’t enough cause for health department concern, I would be remiss not to mention the added germs[4] of our beloved six-year-old Labrador retriever. Truth be told, during one lazy afternoon breastfeeding marathon, during which I was glued to the couch and allowing the Kardashians to parent my offspring, I may have looked on idly as our dog did a drive-by lick of the baby’s bare newborn head AND his pacifier. Also, we let him have a pacifier. I guess that’s nine parenting fails. <Curtsy>.

Contemplative Ezra. Day 25.
On which he looks like he's already about 10 years old
and his mother weeps while mumbling some cliche about the passage of time.

[1] Truth: this started out as “five ways” but then, wouldn’t you know it, I just kept thinking of other ways I have failed.
[2] See what I did there?
[3] For those playing at home my laughter would be yet another parenting fail.


  1. LOL, #1 cracks me up, b/c my daughter was born in December and we were out and about with her almost immediately and had guests over all the time -- and I don't own a bottle of hand sanitizer, and it's never occurred to me to ask if someone had gotten a vaccination. I mean... geez... I hope I have the kind of friends who wash their hands after they pee, right?

    Also, I think I've said this to you before, but DO NOT WORRY about creating bad sleep habits right now. During the 4th trimester (months 0-3 of life), it's all about getting baby to sleep HOWEVER THE HELL YOU CAN. He just went from being cradled in your womb 24/7 to being held only a tiny fraction of that - that's a drastic reduction for him, and he needs time to adjust just as you do. There is plenty of time to work on good sleep habits later - do not worry about it the first few months. It really doesn't matter, I promise.

    You're doing a great job. It's overwhelming as hell in the beginning, but you'll find your rhythm, and it will get easier, I promise!

    1. Glad to hear we're not the only (reckless!) parents out there (kidding). We're making our kids tough, right?

  2. He is so handsome! And I just live this parenting confession blog!

  3. I am laughing so hard. Do keep the stories coming, in between episodes of the Kardashians!

  4. None of those count as fails to me! 7 made me laugh, I've picked many crumbs out of James' hair as I eat over him.

  5. Aren't germs supposed to be, like, a *good* thing for kids to be exposed to now? It's the little ones in their sterile bubbles we need to worry about. I'd pretty sure you're on the cutting edge for great parenting with 1 and 8.

    As for the 'Daddy's little hero' onesie: how could you? No, seriously.

    1. So I think what you're saying is,... you'd like to inherit that particular onesie for your baby on the way? Say no more! It's in the mail. :)

    2. Ha! I'll send you my address and it'll be the take-home-from-the-hospital outfit. H will love and appreciate that :)

  6. Hey! You're doing a great job. I think you are funny and I'm willing to bet you're doing the absolute best you can, which makes you AWESOME. So it's in that spirit that I say, make sure you cut yourself some slack, ja? Promise? It's just that I have friends who hide behind humour to mask how they really feel, so I'm hyper over aware of it. Lecture over. Go kiss that cutie head!

  7. Ha! Sounds to me like your doing a great job! I did alot of the same things with my daughter (including the tacky onesies/tshirts..."daddys little squirt" comes to mind :)
    Keep up the good work!

  8. The part about the ugly hand me down onesies with cheesy expressions is SO true. And WHY do they all have some type of transportation on them? Also true about dropping food on my baby. And hand washing? Oh dear. And are babies supposed to be sleeping in those things called cribs? Shit.

  9. My baby daddy (and husband! and sperm donor! what a combo!) loves football. Therefore, we have been given numerous onesies with statements like "Daddy's little quarterback" because despite the fact that he's still in utero, we can't wait for his first concussion.
    According to Carters, Gerber, and the like, babies love super corny puns AND embroidery. Baby boys specifically like vehicles and monsters. Why.

    1. Embroidered taxi cabs and cheesy monsters. So, so right. Gah. Good luck with that first concussion - that'll be one for the baby book!

  10. Just be thankful that once you had Ezra, people didn't go out and buy every single pink outfit on the planet! Ugh. I maybe had one pink thing in my closet and now the house is full of Pepto Bismol pink!

    Oh yeah, and I am guilty of most of these as well. We all do what we need to do to survive the first couple months!

  11. This is hilarious... and so relatable! We got a hand-me-down onesie that had a picture of a dog, in sunglasses, and the words "I love sausages!" on it. How do any of these things relate to one another?! I imagine some poor woman in the Phillipines having to make that and being so confused as to what it all means...

    And yeah, the baby-as-napkin thing -- I just dropped a huge splattering of chicken korma all over Max's face the other night! It wasn't piping hot or anything and he didn't seem to mind until I started to freak out, then he started to cry, then I started to laugh hysterically and it was really ridiculous. Defo a "please don't call Children's Aid" moment...

    1. Dying laughing over the sausage loving sunglass wearing pup. What adult came up with this? And why didn't another adult stop him?