Last weekend, Alex and I were really feeling the itch to do some spring cleaning. I have been mentally compiling lists of house projects all winter long while simultaneously trying to be (slightly) realistic in knowing that only a fraction of it will get done. Given our hectic life with an almost-one-year-old, the odds are stacked in favor of me spending this spring and summer chasing after a toddler rather than power washing my deck or painting my bedroom.

But, I’ve been feeling really frustrated lately. Held back. Mystified while wondering how I’m going to survive toddlerhood with a very high-energy child, let alone accomplish anything. I find that at all times while I am trying to get things done, I am either tripping over a two-foot-tall creature who is directly beneath my feet or I am leaping across the room like a gazelle in order to thwart her from climbing a bookcase or swallowing a tack. Honestly, I am exhausted and my house is a disaster zone.

And lately, the tidiness of my house has become a symbol for my struggle with motherhood. Quite often I feel my thoughts echoed in the dust bunnies (or lack thereof) collecting in my corners, my emotions strewn across the floors with the laundry, my mood altering between hopefulness and hopelessness with the piling up and emptying out of dirty dishes from the sink.

I want to somehow do what I know is impossible: catch up. Catch up with all the things that have gone undone this past year and then not allow them to go undone until I give birth to another child (at which point I will start this whole crazy thing over again).

I want to go crazy on the kitchen—scour the sink with a toothbrush, scrub the floor by hand, disinfect the refrigerator shelves. Without a tiny mouth trying to eat the cleaning gloves off my hands. I want to clean the kitchen—not because it’s important, but because it would make me feel less like I am drowning.

Back to the weekend though….Given these recent feelings, I was determined to get something done this past weekend. I looked out our windows at the sad state of our property—our yard littered with leaves, sticks, and weeds, bordered on all sides by the pristine lawns of all our neighbors. I was going to do something about this (with the help of Alex, of course). So, I strapped Emerson onto my body, and headed outdoors to attack the mess. As I raked, I felt exhilarated and satisfied. I felt more like a human being than a mother.

I decided to capitalize on the momentum. So, when we were finished outside, I continued to spring clean the inside of my house. There were sponges and soap, vinegar-soaked q-tips and microfiber cloths. I cleaned inside cracks and crevices until I was sweaty. Yes, I could do this. I could be a mother and a human being and accomplish things. Heck, I was going to get all my house projects done this spring. Okay, most of them. Some of them. It was going to be grand.

Then, Emerson needed my attention. As I took the baby from Alex’s arms, I told him I felt amazing after all the cleaning I did, but I had no idea how other families—families with even more children—managed to get anything done…ever. He simply said, “you need to lower your expectations. Then it’ll be easier to feel accomplished.”

“Yes, lower my expectations. That will help,” I replied.

I began to carry Emerson upstairs to change her diaper while secretly thinking I cannot lower my expectations! I don’t know how to do that. I will just have to find a way to maintain the insane level of productivity I managed to pull out today. 

Little did I know, I was about to be schooled in the ways of lowering one’s expectations. As I plopped Emerson down on her changing table, I saw a soiled cloth diaper lying on the floor. As I bent down to pick it up, I noticed something. Poop. Sizable. On the floor. Old. A bit hardened. Flattened by someone’s shoe.

I was imagining it, right? It was something else. I had to be mistaken. My grown husband would not throw poop on the floor, step in it and then walk all over the house, and on our new carpets, with poop on his shoe (while I was hard at work spring cleaning!). No. Yes. Yes, he would.

I let out a wild “grrrrrrrrrr!” as I finished changing Emerson’s diaper. Then I yelled down to Alex, informing him of the foul infraction he had committed. He tried to deny it, he tried to tell me I was imagining it. But, one look at the bottom of his shoe shut him up. He came upstairs and quietly took the baby out of my arms while cautiously backing away, bracing himself for my fury. But, I said nothing. I just grabbed some wipes and got on my hands and knees. I was too frustrated by my inability to maintain an immaculate life.

As I tried to distinguish wood markings from poop streaks on the wood floor, I knew I had to let this go. I hated it, but I had to let it go. There was nothing I could do about the fact that Alex had tracked poop all over the house. I could not retrace all the steps he had taken with his dirty shoe in the past hour. I could not steam clean the carpet that he had danced on with Emerson or wash the billion toys that were lying on the dirty floor. I had to give it all a once over and then be done with it. I had to be okay with the fact that there are now trace amounts of poop in more locations than I am aware of in my house (and that’s probably the case all of the time). I had to lower my standards and my expectations.

“Don’t worry, baby, it’s just a lit bit of feces,” Alex called to me. As much as I wanted to resist that comment, he was right. There is poop on the floor and I have to find a way to accept that. Yes, this is my life. Forget spring cleaning. Forget the OCD state of houses past. A child lives here now—that is what my mess says. Nothing more.

As Emerson’s first birthday approaches, I find myself taking stock of the past year. One way I’ve been doing that is by creating lists in my head…some of which I’ve decided I will share here. Up first: twelve items I couldn’t have survived the first twelve months without.

I remember the enormous list of “suggested items” I printed out when registering for baby gifts. I ignored half the suggestions, opting for a relatively minimalist approach, but now looking back it’s amazing to see that I could’ve gotten by with an even smaller list of items. This is surely not an all-inclusive list, but without giving it too much thought, these were the first items that came to mind…..

1) Baby carriers. Multiple.

Reasons: The reasons are unending, really. On the whole, though, wearing your baby just makes life easier. Most babies are happy in a carrier, which makes parenting them easier. You can comfort and engage your child while simultaneously going about the business of your life (i.e. get stuff done with the use of two hands!). It’s also a great way to breastfeed or allow your child to nap in public. What’s more, babies that are carried cry less, are smarter and learn more, and benefit from plenty of skin-to-skin time. Wearing your baby also reduces the risk of SIDS and helps comfort colic. I could go on and on about the reasons I could not live without, and highly recommend, baby carriers.

I will say, that it is beneficial to have a few different options. For instance, I heavily relied on the Moby Wrap during the newborn phase, then a combination of the Ergo and a standard Ring Sling (they don’t make the one I used anymore, so I’d recommend a Maya Wrap) for the next phase, and now I rely solely on the Ergo, which will work for a few more years.

2) Exercise ball.

Auntie bouncing 3-week-old Em

Reasons: I purchased an exercise ball while I was pregnant after using one in my birthing class (great to use during labor!). After I gave birth, the ball was tossed into the corner of a room as there was little time to clean or organize with a newborn in the house. I thought we’d eventually deflate and store it until we discovered the ultimate newborn soother: bouncing on the ball while holding the baby. Emerson rejected the rocking chair, bouncy seat, swing and sleep n’ play. But, holding her while bouncing on the ball was magic (it mimics the bouncing a baby experiences in utero when their mama walks). And, truth be told, at almost one-year-old, it is still our go-to sleep inducer. We deflate it and bring it with us on every overnight trip.

3) Wool Diaper Cover. 

Reasons: We do cloth diaper in our household, but this recommendation is not for cloth diapering families (though I do recommend it for that, as well). We use disposable diapers at night, because Emerson “sleeps” for twelve hours and is a very heavy wetter. But, we were so frustrated for months dealing with annoying diaper leaks. Emerson woke up soaking wet constantly. Pajamas and bedding destroyed. Sometimes daily. And all of my “genius” ideas to jimmy rig some kind of leak-stopping device eventually failed. Until I discovered wool diaper covers. They are totally old school. The one Emerson has makes her look like she’s wearing a man’s swimsuit from the 1920s, but it’s inpenetrable. Wool does need to be cured before it becomes waterproof, but after that point nothing gets through. We have not had a night time leak since we started putting the cover over Emerson’s disposable diaper! No more doing laundry and changing the bed EVERY DAY. Bonus: wool is self-cleaning and only needs to be (hand) washed about once a month. Really.

4) Nipple Cream + Nursing Pads.

Reasons: I could not have made it through the first four months without these items. My nipples took a beating. It was the worst. Cracked, raw, sore and sometimes bleeding nipples. Enter a gallon of nipple cream every hour. I used a combination of Mother Love and Lanolin (which is also great for healing cuts, scrapes, diaper rash and to cure your wool diaper cover). And nursing pads. Everyone is different, but personally I went through a truck load. I had them stashed everywhere—nightstand, diaper bag, coffee table, bathroom, car—so I’d never be stranded without them….leaking or sometimes literally spraying like a fire hydrant through my shirt.

5) Bambo Nature Diapers.

Reasons: If you use disposables and/or want to use a non-toxic, sensitive-skin-friendly diaper, Bambo Nature is where it’s at. I have only tried non-toxic diapers on Emerson (but I’ve tried them all) as I personally cannot stomach the scary health risks associated with most disposable diapers. But, I have tried a wide variety of “regular” (think Pampers and Huggies) diapers on babies during my time as a nanny and daycare teacher. And I have determined that Bambo Nature is amazing. So amazing. They remind me of Honest diapers, but work so much better. They are the most luxurious (yes, I think a diaper can be luxurious) I’ve ever seen or felt. They are thick, super soft (rare for a non-toxic), fit well, super absorbent, contain blowouts and leaks, never ever cause diaper rash, all while being a healthier option for my baby and the earth.

Nature Babycare diapers run a close second. They boast all of the above benefits, and fit great (love the elastic backing). The only difference is that they are not as thick and absorbent for night time use, which is why I stick with Bambo.

*For those of you who do cloth diaper—I cannot live without Thirsties Duo Wraps. They fit well, don’t leak, and are friendly on the wallet since they are adjustable.

6) NoseFrida

Reasons: Just do yourself a favor and pick one up before you have a baby. This is something you want to have on hand right away when you need it. We were very fortunate in that Emerson never got sick until she was almost a year old. But, most babies get sick. A lot. And even in the absence of colds or flus, Emerson still had plenty of occasions that required booger suctioning. And a bulb syringe is completely useless and ineffective. The Nose Frida really gets all the boogers out and allows your little one to breathe, nurse, and sleep! I was up all night with my sick baby until I purchased the Nose Frida. And trust me, you will NOT get boogers in your mouth. Not even close.

7) Mustela Stelatopia Line.

Reasons: This line is made for babies with eczema, very dry or sensitive skin. So, it might not be a “must” for everyone. For us, it is. Emerson developed eczema pretty early on and it’s only gotten worse with time. We have tried so many products that are fragrance-free and made for sensitive or dry skin. Nothing helped. Most products instead exasperated her condition. This line is very pricey, but a god-send. I would rather pay for the moisturizer, cleansing cream, and milky bath than have to put the icky steroid cream Emerson’s doctor prescribed on my baby’s vulnerable body. Once in a while E does still have a flare-up, but Stelatopia has greatly, greatly reduced the frequency. Bonus: the line is made from primarily natural ingredients and is paraben-free (which is a must for me).

8) Regular, grown-up sized nail clippers.

Reasons: Babies nails grow at an insane rate, and they are razor sharp. This is the reason we put mittens on newborns. They don’t just cut themselves either—I had cuts all over my breasts when Emerson was brand new. Ouch. But, the problem far outlasts the newborn phase. Emerson still cuts us all up if we don’t keep her nails in check. The problem is, I was never able to effectively cut my baby’s nails with protective baby clippers. I would instead peel her nails off, as suggested to me in the hospital. But, this took FOREVER, was difficult to accomplish and was not very safe (easily draws blood). I was seriously crazy about the nail situation—everyone being sliced by them, but not able to find a way to cut them—until Emerson was 7-weeks-old when I took a chance and trimmed her nails with regular, adult clippers. It took me under a minute and for the first time, all of our faces were safe from the claws of Em. I continue to use adult clippers (which now requires a bit more distracting to accomplish). Of course, you need to do this in good light so you can see, and very carefully.

9) Beaba Babycook.

Reasons: It’s easy to make your own baby food using this baby food maker. I feel so much better about what I am putting in my baby’s body when it’s freshly prepared—no hidden ingredients, more nutritious, and much tastier than jarred food. This machine steams, blends, and reheats food. So simple. We even take it with us on road trips. Also BPA- and PVC-free.

10) Mustela Foam Shampoo for Newborns.

Reasons: First of all, it smells amazing! There is nothing like the smell of Emerson’s head after using this shampoo. But, the real reason I recommend it is because it treats cradle cap, or if used preemptively can prevent your baby from ever experiencing cradle cap, which can be tough to treat and not so pretty to look at. Emerson may not have a lot of hair, but she’s had a beautiful, cradle cap-free head from day one (let the ‘poo sit on baby’s head for a minute after rubbing in). The shampoo can be used through toddlerhood though it’s labeled “for newborns.” Also, it’s paraben-free and made from primarily natural ingredients.

11) Weleda Calendula Diaper Cream + Earth’s Best Wipes.

Reasons: Diaper rash is pretty inevitable in babyland. And it can get so bad that your baby’s skin bleeds or is open and raw. It’s terrible to watch your baby go through. There are a million and one products made to keep this condition at bay, and I have personally seen and used a great majority of what’s out there during my days working at a daycare and as a nanny. In my experience, one of the best ways to prevent diaper rash from happening in the first place is to use reusable cloth wipes and plain water the majority of the time (and non-toxic diapers or cloth diapers). Still, sometimes you need a disposable wipe when on-the-go, or as a final clean-up when there is poop involved. Wipes can do a number on a baby’s bum, though. Enter the thickest, softest, gentlest wipes I’ve found: Earth’s Best. They also have just the right amount of moisture and are chlorine- and paraben-free. Second, Weleda Calendula Diaper Cream. Because, rashes are inevitable sometimes (teething, for instance). This stuff usually clears Emerson’s rash up after only one application. Completely natural and paraben-free.

12) A Mama Group.

Reasons: Last is certainly not least here. I think it might be virtually impossible to survive motherhood with your sanity intact without a group of (hopefully like-minded) mamas to talk to. There are so many resources out there. Use them! It’s a great way to meet other mamas in your area (which, believe me, you will need!) and a great way to vent, regroup, and pick up tips. Mind you, leaving the house and finding the energy and motivation to seek out a group can be difficult with a baby at home. But, it’s so worth it. I started going to a group for new moms almost immediately after Emerson was born. And have subsequently joined an amazing mothering group that meets throughout my area. I’ve also been lucky enough to form play groups, walking groups, etc. with the women I’ve met through these groups. VITAL. to. my. sanity. P.S. Joining online mothering forums is also very helpful (there are so many to choose from).

There you have it. The twelve things that have proven critical to our survival this past year. Happy parenting!

Emerson made it nearly a year with her health intact—my strong little ox of a girl—until yesterday when she came down with her first cold. Of course, it had to end sometime. But, I will say that Emerson is much more of a trooper than I am when I’m feeling ill (I learn so much from her). For the most part, she continues to smile and laugh and be in a (relatively) good mood despite the ickiness inside her….except when I come at her with a tissue or a bulb syringe, that is. Then she absolutely loses it. She sobs and begs for me to hold her instead of de-boogie-ing her. (Side note: Why do babies hate tissues so much?!)

So yesterday, upon the suggestion of Parenting.com, I decided to irrigate Emerson’s nose and then suction it out. She can’t sleep or nurse comfortably right now, because she can’t breathe. We all got about four hours of sleep the night she fell ill. So, I felt desperate to ease my baby’s discomfort and let us all (especially the sicky-poo) rest. Being able to actually complete the de-boogie-ing task, though, meant having to restrain my baby, because she was not about to let me do it willingly. Parenting.com told me that restraining my baby would look and feel awful despite the good deed I was attempting to accomplish, and they were right. Actually, in my dramatic opinion, I think they understated it.

My child does not take kindly to having her limbs pinned down and out of her control (no matter how gently). She’s been that way since birth, fighting her way out of her swaddling blanket. In fact, she still considers blankets torture devices to this day. I have no idea why. Total tangent. The point is, when Emerson does not want something to happen (to her) she not only lets you know, but makes it incredibly challenging, if not impossible.

So, I had to restrain her to get the bulb syringe anywhere near her nostrils. And it was awful. So awful. Even though the end result was a baby who could once again breathe (and subsequently sleep and nurse), I hated every minute of it, because she hated every minute of it. I desperately wanted to be able to explain to her that I was trying to help her, that I wanted to take away her discomfort, not add to it. And I tried to. But, they were words she could not yet understand.

Later, before bed, I decided to repeat the process so Emerson could sleep longer than 15-minute intervals (literally what happened tortured us all the night before). This time, she was even more upset about it. I eventually gave up, because she just looked so terrified and upset and I couldn’t handle the fact that something I was doing was making her feel that way. I scooped her up and held her, and as she buried her head in the nape of my neck, arms griping my body with all her might, it occurred to me that while I could give up the bulb syringe (or finally purchase a freakin’ Nosefrida like I’ve been meaning to do all year!) I would still be faced with this predicament a billion more times in my life as a parent. I was just as upset as Emerson upon realizing that.

There will always be unpleasant experiences that I will have to inflict upon my sweet child, because they are in her best interests. It is my job to take care of her health, keep her safe, and give her the best chance at a happy/successful/psychologically-sound future. So far, that hasn’t required all that much discomfort on either of our parts. So far, I’ve mostly been the best-most-amazing-most-favorite-person-in-the-whole-wide-world to Emerson.

Now I’m transitioning into a different role, and I’m not entirely sure how to contend with the feelings that come along with it. In moments like I-need-to-suction-your-nose-so-you-can-breathe-and-you-hate-it-and-are-scared, I feel something closely resembling guilt. I know I am doing what is best, yet I feel so badly about it. As natural and normal as difficult phases (terrible twos/threes/fours/teens) are, I am not looking forward to no longer being the best-most-amazing-most-favorite-person-in-the-whole-wide-world. I am not looking forward to having to say, “yes, this is happening even though you hate it, it’s for your own good.” Whether that means suctioning my baby’s nose, cleaning the dirt out of her boo boos, sending her to bed at a reasonable time so she gets enough sleep, insisting she finish her homework, or enforcing a curfew….it all sucks. It’s for the best, and is a healthy way to love my child, but it’s not exactly fun.

I guess I’m having trouble accepting that while I am currently the ultimate panacea to my child’s every woe, it won’t always be this way. At times, I will have to be the scary lady with the bulb syringe in order to truly love my child.