That's how you know I've got something to say - the fact that I'm using the most sacred of times, nap time, to write. Generally, I spend nap time with a coffee and a book, but I've been itching to post for about a week now.
When I initially started this blog, I wrote an entry about unsolicited advice. I didn't realize at the time (how foolish of me) that unsolicited advice only gets worse after you've had a child. It's incessant. It's like that fly that's in your house that you've been trying to kill for a week, but it keeps coming back, landing on your nose while you're drifting off to sleep causing you to unintentionally smack yourself in the face.
Weston is 7.5 mths old. He is happy (or at least I like to think he is), healthy, fed, clothed, and most important of ALL - he is ALIVE. That's right. I've managed to keep another human being alive that relies solely on me to take care of his every need. Two of them actually, if you count my husband. I feel like I must be doing something right. I haven't had CPS knocking on my door. I pick him up when he cries. I give him medicine/take him to the doctor when he is sick. I tell him every day that I love him. I think I've got a handle on the basic idea of motherhood. Sure, there are times when I've nearly pulled out my hair, thinking, "What do you want? What do you need? Why don't I know all the answers?" When I feel that way, that's when I reach out to people and ask for help or advice.
My sister in law is my primary source. Having kids so close together in age, I feel like she and my niece go through everything just ahead of me and Weston. She always reassures me, lets me know her tips and tricks, and is a great sounding board for when I think I'm going to lose my mind.
My cousin is also an amazing source of knowledge. She doesn't have children, but she has 10 years in the medical field with just a few months between her and becoming a nurse practitioner. She knows her shit. She also keeps me level headed when something like Weston having a fever comes up and I'm sure we have the plague but really it's just that he has a cold and I need to cool my jets.
My favourite part of having those two people in my life is that they don't push information on me. They don't assume I want their advice, they don't assume I'm a complete idiot when it comes to being a mother, and they don't assume I need to be advised on how to handle my own child. It's something I appreciate greatly.
Y'know what I don't appreciate? Y'know what makes me rant like a lunatic to my husband (who is so lucky to have me)? Y'know what puts my blood pressure through the roof and makes me (a bit) crazy?
Fucking unsolicited parenting advice.
I do not fucking want it. I don't understand how I can be any more clear on this.
Did I ask you how to take care of my child? No? Oh, okay, you're just going to tell me anyways. That's cool. Have at 'er.
No. It's not cool. It's easily one of the most annoying parts of being a parent. Actually, I could handle the sleepless nights (seriously, my kid is allergic to sleep), the explosive shits, the projectile spit up all a little easier if I didn't have people telling me what I need to do, what I should do, what I am doing wrong.
Not only do I not appreciate unsolicited advice, I don't appreciate when the same advice is pelted at me over and over again. Despite me saying I have already tried what they are advising, or that it's not something I feel comfortable doing with my own child, it's still repeated. I mean, that's the thing - Weston is my child. I will do as I see fit, what I think is best for him.
As a sort of public service announcement, here are a few things that I will/won't be doing with my child, in the event someone feels that they must comment/advise:
1) I don't do, nor am I interested in trying, crying it out. He cries, I console him. He gets up in the middle of the night, I go to him. He reaches for me, I pick him up. It's as simple as that. Oh, you tried crying it out and it was successful for you? Great. That's fucking awesome. Now why don't you and your perfect parenting style go eat a dick. Thanks.
2) I co-sleep. Not all of the time, but when he's been up 3-4 times a night, that's usually what saves both of us from losing our minds. You don't co-sleep? You think that's a bad idea and baby will have attachment issues? Great. If he's still asking me to wipe his ass when he's 20, then I'll start worrying. Until then, he can be as attached to me as he likes.
3) We do baby led weaning. Haven't heard of it? Look it up, and then shut your god damn mouth.
4) I don't have a set date to have him weaned off breastfeeding. It works for us. He is a happy and healthy baby. I am feeding him. Who fucking cares how long we plan on doing it for? Again, if he's trying to breastfeed at 20, then maybe I need to take a closer look at our relationship. Until then, I don't see any sort of Oedipus complex arising in him yet, so I think we are fine.
5) I'm more apt to listen to Weston's doctor (y'know, the one with a MEDICAL degree), then a "well meaning" person who believes they know best. If Weston's doctor says he is or isn't sick, does or doesn't have an issue with something, I'm going to go with that. Sure, doctors can be wrong, but I think they're wrong a lot less than Dr. Google.
I'm at the point now where I do not care whose feelings I hurt (who are we kidding, I never cared anyways). If you can't keep your opinion to yourself, then I will no longer keep mine to myself. If you tell me how to parent my child, I will tell you to stick your head up your ass (or depending on how little I've slept, it may be something much more profane).
Peace out, bitches.
