Oct 15 2015

Pumpkin Patch Redux

Pumpkin Patch Redux

So we tried again.

This past weekend, we drove alllll the way back to the pumpkin patch for a redo. It was important to me that P be able to replace her “yucky” memories with new ones — and I needed to do the same. Part of phobics’ irrationality is that we tend to associate completely unrelated things with the sick event, even though we know they don’t really have anything to do with anything. (i.e. “I wore this outfit the last time someone threw up. Better not wear this outfit anymore.” Or we might remember the exact date of the last time we got sick and then become uneasy around that same date every year. Ridiculous, right? We know.) Anyway, since the pumpkin patch threatened to become a semi-scary place, I forced myself to go back ASAP.

What a relief to see the happy, non-feverish version of P! First stop: the face-painting clowns. She chose the glittery rainbow option and sat exceptionally still. Continue reading

Oct 8 2015

Confessions of a Parent with Emetophobia Pumpkin Patch Fail

<span class="entry-title-primary">Confessions of a Parent with Emetophobia</span> <span class="entry-subtitle">Pumpkin Patch Fail</span>

It’s October, which means it’s almost Halloween, which means I’m allowed to tell you a horror story.

For most of you, this will not be a horror story at all. This will sound like a standard, Duh-You-Have-A-Toddler-What-Did-You-Expect? story, and if you have kids, no doubt you will have been there, done that. But I am a parent who has an irrational fear of throwing up, and I can only see this experience through that lens. Continue reading

Jul 15 2015

Thank You for Saving Her Life

Thank You for Saving Her Life

Very few of our family and friends know the Snuza story, and that’s mostly because it’s so horrifying to relive. It’s also because I worry that it makes me sound incompetent, like if I actually knew what I was doing as a mother, there wouldn’t be a story in the first place.

Every time I DID tell someone about it — my parents, a handful of mom friends — I would start shivering as if the temperature had dropped. My teeth literally chattered. And while this particular story has a happy ending, I know the content may be immensely upsetting to those who have experienced a loss, and I am so, so sorry for that.

For all of these reasons, I wrestled with whether or not I should publish this post. But if it helps even one family, I think that I should maybe risk the judgment. Continue reading

Jul 12 2015

My Mommy Must-Haves, Part II: The Newborn Phase

My Mommy Must-Haves, Part II: The Newborn Phase

People will have you believe that you need a whole lot of GEAR to sustain that eight-pound being you just brought home from the hospital. And it was secretly a lot of fun to fill a multi-page baby registry with novelties and trinkets and doodads. When we owned our home in Michigan, we stocked the nursery with everything we thought she’d need until she was, like, five years old. But since we’re now renting a temporary house in California, there’s no pressure to paint and get all fancy for Baby Number Two. We don’t even know if we’ll still be here for his first birthday, so it seems pretty pointless to think beyond the first few months of babydom.

Unfortunately, “people” are semi-right. You kinda do need a lot of gear — just not nearly as much as we thought the first time around. So what do we ACTUALLY need to pull out of storage? What REALLY needs to be washed, cleaned, and prepared before we leave for the hospital? Again, not an expert — but feel free to listen in (and contribute) while I think through this list and try to get organized because OMG WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME.

I was able to narrow down my pregnancy comfort items to three, but had to expand my newborn must-haves to ten. The first five are obvious, but I think it’s a safe bet that most parents will need these: Continue reading

May 8 2015

Goodbye, Friends

Goodbye, Friends

The first time I took Peaches to the day care she loves, she was six months old and could barely sit up unassisted. As I left her there on a floor mat, wobbling between two cooing grandma types, I couldn’t even make it to my car before I burst into embarrassing sobs. The women at the front desk definitely cringed a little. Six months is way too young to leave a baby, I thought, hiding my eyes behind massive sunglasses, and for more than a little while I resented having to work.

But as Peaches grew, she learned things. Continue reading