The less-than-Glamourous yet magical time of life with a newborn
Won’t you take stock with me? Copy and paste this list, fill it in, keep it to yourself or share it with me firstname.lastname@example.org It’s amazing to see what sorts of themes develop when you answer such simple questions. Find out what’s on your mind! Scroll down to copy and paste your list.
Making : Messes.
Cooking : Reheating frozen meals and enjoying food that friends are dropping off.
Bright lights, a blue sheet, instructions spoken in serious tones. I’m shivering despite the lower half of my body being deadened. Unfamiliar faces briskly go about their business around me in the crowded room.
I never imagined giving birth by caesarian section.
It may not surprise you that in some research Bupa recently did, it showed that lots of parents are turning to Google to confirm or deny their parenting fears, and answer questions about that are bound to come up in that First Thousand Days of parenthood.
While it’s comforting in some ways to know that there’s potentially support at the end of our fingertips,
Postnatal depression; the gift I never asked for or wanted. Fighting my way through it made me stronger and taught me self-acceptance.
Now that I’m in my First Thousand Days, and pregnant with my second baby, I worry about postnatal depression returning for a rematch even though ‘theoretically’ I should have all the tools I need to tackle it again.
These hacks were passed down on my Italian-American side of the family (it’s no surprise that many of them have to do with food- mangia!) These low-tech tidbits ended up in our family cookbook and I thought it only fair to share the wisdom with the wider world.
Before they became meme’s or pins, life hacks were advice passed down from generation to generation.
I came across a section in our family cookbook called “Did you know tidbits,” a section jammed with tips,
I attempted to board my flight to Sydney yesterday and the attendant stopped me, asked how many weeks pregnant I was, snatched my doctor’s certificate, and studied it suspiciously. “Wait here,” she said, while passengers politely sidestepped me and disappeared down the jetway.
Every airline has different regulations for flying while pregnant so even if you think you know, double check. Then check again.
At 31 weeks, it’s my last trip for the foreseeable future.
I’ve got one cracked nipple, one leaky boob, barf on my shirt, and haven’t showered in three days. It’s 2:00PM and just spend 45 minutes trying to settle my baby before army rolling out of her nursery like a ninja so I could go slam a bowl of cereal for lunch, only to notice I’m out of milk.