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I have been doing this parenting thing for just about three years now, and as I go along I realize that a lot of what people said to me before I had kids, often ad nauseum, seems to have turned out to be untrue, an exaggeration, or an understatement.

The number of cliches I heard or suggestions I was offered, while well intentioned, have proven to be misguided. I was sure I could navigate and anticipate so much more than it turns out I was able to, mostly because I banked on or assumed that things would unfold in a certain way.

Well, turns out no one passed my kids, or my body, the memo. It also appears a lot of my friends didn’t get the memo either.

So I’ll happily debunk these myths. Or at least qualify them. Every new parent should be armed with the best preparation and coffee pots possible.

One cup of coffee will be enough

I have friends who never touched a cup of coffee a day in their life until they had kids. Now they own a Keurig, a Tassimo, a 14 cup machine, and are on a first name basis with the local Tim Hortons and Starbucks employees. Chances are, if you didn’t like coffee before, it’ll be your best friend soon.

You will never sleep again

I can not count the number of times I’ve heard this one. Yes, sleep will be different, no doubt. And in the early days, it will be scarce. But eventually these 5am happy toddlers will become teens who need to be dragged out of bed and then we’ll be frustrated by that. You WILL sleep again. Eventually.

Boxes of wine are just for parties

I’m not saying you NEED to have wine. I am saying that after a long day entertaining and/or attempting to settle a child, it’s nice to have to have easy access to a tall glass of relaxation.

Nine months up, nine months down

Some people leave the hospital after having their baby wearing their pre-pregnancy jeans. Most though, do not. My son is past the nine month mark and I’m still trying to kick these last pounds. I’ll be 35 this week and my mother says she is still trying to kick the last pounds from me.

She who looks like you, will be like you

Look at this comparison shot:

The nifty 70s outfit and the super safe-looking car seat might give it away, but in case it’s not otherwise obvious, the picture on the right is my daughter and the left is me. We share a face, even more so now as she gets older, but that kid is her dad through and through.

Television is not there to be a babysitter

Except, sometimes, it is the best and cheapest one available.

A year of maternity leave isn’t enough

Okay, this one is a toughie. The reality is that for a lot of people it just isn’t enough. Lots of women would stay home if only money would allow. But what I didn’t realize is that I, personally, was a better mommy for my daughter when I was back in the work force. I have quite a few friends who chose to go back to work early, and a few who never planned on taking more than six months in the first place, and didn’t regret it.

I acknowledge that people in the United States would kill for the chance to have the leave we are granted in this country, and I am grateful for it. I also acknowledge that not everyone wants to take advantage of it.

Sleep training works in days, just do it already!

It is true, that for a lot of children, they just need to be shown how to sleep. What isn’t true, though, is that any kid can be sleep trained in three nights. Everyone told me that, and there was some truth to it for my kids, but for a lot of people I know it took a lot longer than that.

Last time I checked there wasn’t a one size fits all anything for any kid. Any method that doesn’t account for different personalities (read: ability to hold out and scream for HOURS) does parents a disservice and makes them think they’re doing something wrong, when in reality, their kids are just more persistent.

Newborns are adorable

All I’ll say about this is that one of my friends said it best when she said that she was glad mother nature blinded her from seeing how scrawny and wrinkly her baby was until the point when her baby was finally adorable.

Your baby will sleep soooooooooooooooooo much better when they start solids

…or if you give cereal before bed…or if you put cereal in the nighttime bottle…I only have anecdotal evidence to back me up here, but it’s mostly untrue. It can work. But more often than not, it doesn’t change a thing.

You will change a million poopy diapers a day

I had no idea that some little kids only go once a week! My son went every four days. One thing is for certain, sadly but truly, the focus on your child’s digestive system is borderline obsessively insane in the early days. I used to call my husband on poo day to advise him of the dirty diaper’s arrival. I also ended each of those phone calls with “I used to be cool.”

The car will be your saviour

If your baby is crying, just strap them in for a ride!” I honestly think the only place my child cried more than she did at home, is when I had the audacity to strap her into the car seat. It can work. But it is definitely not a miracle cure for all. Even though I was promised it was.

The Terrible Twos are the worst

Funny, but before I had kids I had never heard anything but that. Along comes my kids and all of a sudden all of my friends with older kids were all ‘oh, but wait until the Trying Threes!’ And I can’t share what the Fours are called in polite company. I think, as you navigate each wonderful stage of development, that they all have their challenges. They are challenging in different ways, and some will be more challenging on some parents than on others, and some kids will navigate some stages better than others. I was a great obedient, studious teenager. But I’m pretty sure my parents could have done without me from ages 18-22.

You will just somehow know what you’re doing

Everyone told me before my kids were born that I’ll just figure it out. Learn as I go. Meanwhile, almost three years in, I am pretty much flying by the seat of my pants. I don’t find parenting intuitive. I find it a big long practice of trial and error.

For all of the cliches, and there are many, so far I have only found one to hold true.

Blink and you’ll miss it! They grow so fast!

This is, of course, not to be confused with ‘”enjoy it while you can,” because that is sometimes impossible when you have a screaming newborn or a tantruming toddler. But it is true that the older they get, the faster time seems to fly.

In the early days of being a parent, when I was stressed and at my wit’s end, a good friend said to me the days are long, but the years are short. And while those days, at the time, seemed to have gone on forever, likewise, they were a lifetime ago.

So despite not just magically knowing what I’m doing, I do know this: Through trial and error, a heck of a lot of wine, and plenty of commiseration from other mothers, I think my children and I are figuring it all out – together.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 6 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

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Parenting is hard. Being a mom or a dad, is hard.

Pulling that battery out of your 8 month old’s mouth? Easy choice.

How to handle epic tantrums? Not so easy.

The thing about parenting is that most decisions we make are fraught with indecision, weighing pros and cons and, ultimately, uncertainty about whether or not we are doing the right thing.

When my daughter cried non-stop, I wasn’t sure if I was making a bad decision opting to co-sleep. When I was concerned that maybe my milk was low in supply or had something in it that was upsetting her, I wrestled with whether or not I should wean. And when I chose to give my daughter formula, I struggled with whether or not I made the right choice.

What I didn’t understand then, is that the choice I end up making, the one I’ve come to terms with, IS the right choice.

It doesn’t need to be the right choice for someone who chooses differently, but that doesn’t make it the wrong choice for me.

I try to be laid back about other people’s choices. I am a very ‘live and let live’ kind of person. If you enjoy sharing your bed with your husband, two young kids, a dog and a cat, more power to you. It’s not wrong if it is okay with you.

All I ask in return is that I’m not made to feel like I’m doing something bad by my children by insisting they sleep in their cribs.

I have yet to meet a parent who makes a choice that I wouldn’t personally make, where they said ‘I don’t’ really care if this seriously screws up my child for life.’

I’m pretty certain that most parents who opt for breast feeding until their children are 2.5 or older, or parents who confidently give a bottle from day one, both love their children equally and are doing what they feel is right and best.

Neither are weird, neither are neglectful and neither should judge the other for their choice.

And yet, as often happens, both moms will get judged, sometimes by each other, and often by onlookers. It happens all too often. I’ve witnessed it many many times. You can’t win. You can’t please everyone.

Co-sleep, you’re indulgent. Insist on the crib from day one, you’re not respecting your child’s need to be close to mommy and daddy. Let your child cry it out, you’re neglectful. Refuse to let your child cry it out, your masochistic. Breastfeed, you’re glued to your baby. Bottle feed, you’re feeding your baby poison (yes, I’ve actually been told this before).

The list, sadly, goes on and on. The number of ways we can ignore or indulge our children’s needs never ends.

So how on earth are we expected to know what the right answer is?

Dr. Spock has it right. He may have written in a very different generation, a very different reality, but his insight is timeless. Because it is true, every parent is different and every child is different, and every circumstance is different.

A mother isn’t better off breast feeding if she resents it.

A parent isn’t better off at home full-time with their child if they don’t enjoy it and prefer being out in the paid work force.

Leaving your child to cry isn’t best if it’s impossible for you to stomach.

No choice is the right choice if it feels wrong. So I chose to make my decisions based on what is right for me.

When I broke out my bottle while my girlfriends broke out their breastfeeding pillows, I stopped feeling guilty and realized we were all feeding our children. And I stopped caring that I was doing it differently.

I’m sure I’ll mess things up along the way. I know I’m not a perfect parent. But I also know that there is no such thing. Every parent makes decisions for themselves and their children that they feel are best for them. We all love our children and want to do what’s right.

My choice might not be yours. And I might even find your choice weird. But as long as you think it’s right, who cares what I think? I might not always be 100% confident in the choices I make, but I am 100% confident that I am making my choices with the best of intentions.

Once I realized there is no such thing as a perfect parent, I released some of the pressure to keep trying to be one.

I don’t have to be perfect.

I just have to be good enough.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 6 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

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“The moment a child is born,
the mother is also born.
She never existed before.
The woman existed, but the mother, never.
A mother is something absolutely new.”
- Rajneesh

I’d like to say I’m the boss. I’d like to say that after almost three years, I am finally getting the hang of this whole parenting thing.

Truth is, every day is a new challenge. And every day I find myself trying to decide if I should laugh or cry.

I have children who are full of spirit. They laugh and cry with more emotion than most other kids I’ve met. That results in the highs being really high, but the lows being really low.

Yesterday, for example, my older child, my wonderful daughter, was being incredibly disobedient. She was disobient to the point where I wanted to cry from frustration. She wouldn’t listen. She wouldn’t co-operate. Threats and punishment meant nothing to her.

So, while we drove home from the library where she had just made a scene, I said, full of anger, ‘Mommy is very dissapointed in you! You would not listen to me and you would not behave!’

In response, in her sweet 3 year old voice, she said “I’m sorry mommy.”

What am I supposed to do with that? Be okay with the craziness that happened just minutes before? Forgive all? Move on? Or, should I remain angry?

Regardless of whatever my head was saying I should feel, my heart melted. And as my heart melted, I got even more frustrated.

How can someone I love so much make me so frustrated?

I survived colic!  So shouldn’t this be easy? I should have the patience of a saint, but I don’t.

What I do have now are those sweet moments to temper the frustrating ones.  Which I’m grateful for. Which I rely on. The thing about parenting a spirited kid, or any child for that matter, is that they have a full hold on your emotions.

A great day can be ruined by your tantruming kid. But, at the same time, a horrible day can be saved by your child’s hug.

At the end of each day, I go to sleep knowing I’m a parent. Whether it was disciplining or playing, reprimanding or hugging, being frustrated or having my heart melt, I was a parent.

And, because I’m a parent, I fall prey to all of the associated frustrations and the trying times. But, because I’m a parent, I’m also privy to all of the rewards, the joys, the smiles, the hugs and the love.

That’s why my heart melts through the frustrations.

Because I’m ‘Mommy’.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 6 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

Photo Credit: Simmbarb

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Sean’s great post last week got me thinking.

I don’t know about you, but I was the world’s best parent before I had kids. I knew all of the tips and tricks to get my fictional children to be obedient awesome little beings who I could get to sleep wherever, eat whatever, listen whenever…I had the answers to everything.

Along comes El Screamo, followed by Fussy McFussypants and all of a sudden, my genius succumbed to reality. Try as I may, not only does it turn out that I do not have the answer to everything, I have come to realize I really don’t have the answers to anything.

In fact, I’m fairly certain our kids go out of their way to keep us guessing. Just when you think you’ve figured something out, woosh, the rug gets pulled out from under you and everything changes.

The last thing these kids want is for us to get complacent.

I can’t count the number of times my husband and I said we were over the colic hump. Except, we totally weren’t.  And the number of times we ‘fixed’ our kids’ sleep issues are countless.

I distinctly remember my friend I talking, with brutal judgment, about a mutual friend and her ‘nap-Nazism’.

“She’s crazy.” My friend told me.

“She refuses to let her kid nap in the car. And if you dare throw a birthday party during nap time, don’t expect her to show up.”

And I scoffed. I had no kids yet, so, what did I know? So I scoffed.

“She’s soooooooooo uptight!” I’m pretty sure I said.

Fast forward about a year, and I almost wanted to call the friend I bashed to apologize. I decided against it, because she might not appreciate that I bashed her in the first place. But I no longer thought she was crazy. I’d rather be a hermit with a happy kid than a socialite with a miserable one.

Among the things I swore I’d NEVER do, and then ended up doing;

• Hold my baby to get her to nap. I would have hung her upside down and swung her to the sounds of Kenny G, if it got her to nap. If napping on my chest was the only way she’d sleep, then on my chest is where she’d go.
• Co-sleep. Oh heck no, I wasn’t going to share my bed with my baby. My baby will sleep in the crib! Except, it turns out, the only way she’ll sleep is in bed with me, so cuddle up little one, and let’s get us some rest.
• Switch to formula so early. I really wanted to do what was best for my baby. It took a little too long to realize breast is only best for baby if it’s also best for mommy.
• Leave my baby to sleep when I could be going out. I want to get ‘Never Wake a Sleeping Baby’ cross-stitched and hung on my wall.
• Be a slave to naps. There are no plans that are important enough that it’s worth risking the potential fall-out that often comes from messing with the nap schedule.
• Give a soother ‘before breastfeeding is established’. I tried a soother on day 3 with both kids. Anything to get them to stop crying, I was going to try
• Be ‘that person’ in the mall with the screaming kid. MY kid will know how to behave in public from birth! This is why I don’t go malls.
• Plop my kid in front of Baby Einstein DVDs to get a break. I am so grateful for those bizarre DVDs now!

Among the things I will never do again:

• Judge a parent for the choices they make for their family and sanity
• Think I’ve figured something out with regards to my kids’ behaviour or sleep issue

I often refer to parenting as The Practice of Parenting. There’s definitely no science to it. There is no x+y=Z. It’s more like, maybe x + potentially Y = hopefully Z.

Once we learn to ride the waves we might start feeling like we have a handle on the whole parenting business. But I don’t think I’ll ever truly feel in control of it.

I think back on the pre-parent me and want to just point and laugh and say ‘lady, you have NO idea!’. But of course, nothing is more annoying when you’re not a parent than being told ‘you can’t understand if you don’t have kids’.

But so far, I can say, unequivocally, that the best parents I’ve ever met are people who don’t yet have children. They have all the answers. They know how to get kids to sleep, eat and behave.

I freely admit I don’t have a clue now. I was a much better parent before I had my kids. Now I rule my life by the mantra that I don’t have to be perfect, just good enough.

With all of the above said, I do know lots of perfect parents.

The parents who listen to their gut and to their instinct, and take cues from their kids, are the ones I look to as examples of wonderful parenting.

The parents who ignore other people’s judgments of the way they do things are the ones who inspire me.

Because the best parents aren’t the ones who necessarily have the most portable kids or the best-behaved in public. Their kids might not be dream sleepers or adventurous eaters.

The best parents I know, the ones who I look at as examples of what good parents are, are the parents who have happy kids who respect and love their parents.

There is no one way to parent, and no way to know how you can and will parent your kids, until you meet your child and learn who they are and what they need.

The best parents are the ones who acknowledge that, and raise their children accordingly.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 6 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

Photo Credit: maya picture

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“Enjoy these early days. They go so fast”

Ha. If I had a nickle for every time someone said that to me in the newborn days.

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Sometimes I really wonder how we made it through. Sometimes I look back on those days and wonder how I managed to come out on the other side with my sanity and my marriage intact.

But here we are, 2.5 years and another child later and we’re still together, so obviously we did something right.

I remember when I was in the thick of it, asking my mother how in the world she and my dad survived. She looked at me like I was nuts, but then she understood. It’s not that I don’t think a marriage can survive colic. It’s just that I was sure that 37 years ago when my mom was dealing with it, there were far fewer resources to help her, and back then, men didn’t commonly take the brunt of child rearing. I knew that handling my colicky brother fell almost completely on my mother’s shoulders.

I couldn’t imagine how she wasn’t resentful, or how she didn’t feel isolated and alone. How did they survive?

She flat out told me how difficult it was for her. My father was just in the early days of a career that involved shmoozing so he was out ‘networking’ when she’d be home with her screaming son.

In fact, my mother had to give up her career because back then, you were only entitled to 6 weeks of maternity leave and she didn’t trust anyone would be able to ‘love’ her son through the colic and care for him the way he needed to be cared for.

My mother said she just did. That was her response to my question. “We just did.” Because ultimately that’s what getting through those days are about. Survival.

37 years later, my parents are still married, the colic a distant memory. They survived.

And so did my husabnd and I. I credit many things for helping us get through. Mostly, I think it was that my husabnd understood that I was in hell, and picked up as much slack as he physically could. He did take hours on the night shift. He did help organize a ‘kidnapping’ by my friends to get me out of the house.

But we did hit a wall. We did get to a point where we were both so physically and emotionally drained that sometimes I wondered if he’d go out and to pick up milk and never come back.

He always did come back though. Maybe he knew that it wouldn’t always be so hard. Maybe he believed there was a light at the end of the tunnel that I just couldn’t see. Maybe it was his committment to our family.

Whatever it was, I’m glad he gave us a chance. I’m glad he didn’t run, arms flailing.

It is so hard parenting a high needs kid. Especially when it’s your first and you’re still negotiating being a parent for the first time and you’re thrown into a situation where you need to learn new roles and new coping mechanisms.

The new demands of a little being are hard enough; the sleep deprivation, the dependance, the feeling that you don’t have any clue what you’re doing. Throw into the mix a screaming child and it can try even the strongest marriage.

It is naive to say that coping with a high needs baby won’t put a strain on a marriage. The key is to find a way to try to remember that you and your spouse are on the same team. But how can you remember to care for your marriage when it’s hard enough to find time to care for yourself?

I think what got us through was leaning on each other, rather than fighting each other. Not that we didn’t fight. I’d be lying if I said it was all rainbows. It was anything but. But we did take shifts, constantly. I’d hold my screaming kid until I was at my wits end, and then pass her off. My husband would do the same. We tried hard to never let the other burn out.

We also asked for help. We weren’t too proud to say it was as hard as it was.

I remember once calling my mother at 7:30 in the morning saying that I didn’t care how many people she and my dad needed to bring with them to help but that we NEEDED them to watch our daughter so that we could get and have some private time together. We needed it individually. We needed it as husband and wife.

That Saturday my parents, my brother, sister in law and then 4 year old niece showed up to watch my daughter, and my husabnd and I sat on a patio at 3:30 in the afternoon and shared the best pitcher of beer either of us had ever had. We felt human. We felt like a married couple.

I am forever grateful that we had family around to help. But if we didn’t, we would have called friends. We would have called anyone who was willing to give us what we so desperately needed.

There are no magic words, and no magic method that will keep you from letting a high needs child get the better of you and of your marriage. The goal is to survive, endure and perservere and to remember that you’re in this together.

Love created that blessed child. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that when said blessing is screaming in your face.  They key is making the remembering a priority.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 6 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

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Before I had my daughter, what I knew of the birth experience was the emotional first moments after parents meet their baby that I’ve seen on T.V. and in movies.

The subsequent days are usually shown to be this beautiful sentimental time where mom rocks baby quietly in a darkened room, looking adoringly at this new bundle of joy, singing lullabies and saying how truly in love with this new little person they are.

And this is what I envisioned for myself, an instant love, an instant bond and maternal instinct.

 And then I had my daughter.

And my world came crashing down around me.

I learned the dirty little secret that no one tells you. I learned what it’s REALLY like.

 I don’t know why there is this Mom Code. I don’t know if it’s because moms feel it’s a right of passage to be learned the hard way, or because they don’t want to scare their friends away from having children.  All I do know is that no one prepared me.

I might have been scared, or I might have said ‘that won’t happen to me, I won’t feel that way,’ but when reality hit and things weren’t as I thought they’d be, at least I would have known that I wasn’t alone and experiencing things and emotions that no one before me ever had.

Because surely, if this was normal, SOMEONE would have given me a heads up.  Why would no one warn me?

 So that’s it.

I’m airing our dirty little secrets.

I’m telling it like it is.

I’m going to break the Mom Code.

Because anyone willing to become a parent deserves to know. And any new moms going through what lots of new moms go through, need to know they’re not alone.

Newborns suck.

I don’t know why this is such a huge secret. Maybe because it sounds so awful to say, but they really suck. They take and take and take, and don’t even reward you with a cute gummy smile for your efforts. In fact, your efforts tend to result in sporadic sleep and crying.

Not all mommies fall instantly in love when they hold their babies for the first time.

Frankly, these babies are complete strangers, covered in goop, their faces are all swollen from delivery, and they just caused you excruciating pain. That instant connection is just not always there. And you’re not an awful human being if you don’t feel it.

Not every mom bonds with her baby easily.

In fact, it can take weeks or even months, and that’s NORMAL. The fact is there is a new being in your life who has totally taken it over, who has destroyed your body and your sleep, and, as mentioned above, is a stranger.

I cried so many times because I didn’t love my baby weeks into her life. I felt like an awful human being because I loved my niece more than my own daughter.

You will cry.

You might even cry every day for a few weeks post-partum. Your hormones are screwy, you are sleep deprived, and your life has just dramatically changed. It’s normal to cry. You’re not going crazy.

You may, at times, hate your baby.

I realize hate is a strong word, but I stand by it. You might also think you made the biggest mistake in the world. Yes, it’s true.

You may look at your husband and ask why you decided to have kids and suggest that you were much better off before you had them. And that doesn’t make you awful either.

 You may not get what you signed up for.

You may have an unusually difficult labour/recovery. You may have your baby two months early, or a baby that screams all the time, or have a child with special needs.

You don’t get to choose these things and yes, it’s hard when it happens to you. And yes, I’m sorry, but you have a right to think it sucks and that other people have it better than you.

Sometimes it’s hard in the early days when you’re the one going through it to get perspective that some people have it worse.

Breast feeding is hard.

And not a little bit hard. It can be excruciatingly hard and doesn’t necessarily come naturally to a mother or a baby. And I don’t know who said it’s not supposed to hurt but they lied. It hurts. A LOT! It can take a long time for it to feel comfortable.

I know women have been doing it for centuries. I’ve heard that a million times. We get it. It’s ‘natural.’ That doesn’t change the fact that for some women, MANY women, it is one of the hardest things that they will ever try to master.

You will feel incompetent.

You will have no clue what your baby wants most of the time, and will find it hard to digest that they likely don’t know what they want either. The mommy instinct doesn’t kick in right away with everyone. Sometimes it takes a while, a long while.

You will end up throwing out the window many of the naïve comments you made before the baby was born.

You don’t get to choose a baby who will nap when and where you want them to, who will be able to sleep in a noisy house, who will learn to be held and fed by everyone and anyone, who will sleep through the night from the get-go because you will work hard to make it happen.

You will learn very quickly that these little beings have their own minds, and that if you want them to sleep, and you want to get some sleep of your own, you may have to throw in the towel and bring them into your bed, even though was on that list of things you swore you would never do.

I don’t care what people tell you, you do NOT get used to sleep deprivation.

Maybe your body runs on adrenaline or denial of what you’re doing to it, but nobody can survive on 45 minute increments of sleep forever.

Being the mom of a newborn is one of the hardest roles you will ever have. It’s not easy, and it’s not always the way you see it on T.V.  But it does get easier with time.

Soon, they start to smile and coo and interact. And just wait until they start reaching out their arms for you to pick them, or hold them out for you to hug, or say ‘mama.’

It might not be easy, but nothing will ever be more rewarding.

Nothing will ever be more worth it.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 5 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

Image courtesy of suphakit73

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I get defensive when it comes to my experience with my newborns.

My daughter Abigail had colic, and my son, Zachary, we called Abby-lite in the early days. He was as fussy as a baby can be without being colicky.

So I’ve done my time.

That doesn’t mean I have the market cornered on difficult babies. Heck, one woman I know of had to take shifts standing under the kitchen light with her colicky newborn, 24 hours a day. It could always be worse.

You can’t possibly know if you haven’t been there. You can’t know the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of unworthiness, the feeling of failure, the feeling of frustration, the feeling of isolation, the feeling that it will never end, and that there is nothing you can do to change it.

You can’t know the true meaning of the insufficient word ‘fussy‘ until you’ve been given a Fussy Baby to care for and love. You just can’t possibly know.

There are levels of everything; levels of colic, levels of fuss, levels of high need. Everything falls within a spectrum. But to have a baby who falls somewhere on this spectrum, who is truly colicky, fussy or high needs, is to know a reality unlike that of your friends with children who are what anyone else would usually consider ‘normal.’

I felt alienanted from my friends with newborns when I first had my daughter. They were wonderful and helpful and kind and understanding. They held my daughter and let me lean on their shoulders. They were incredibly supportive. But they didn’t know. They could sympathize but they couldn’t empathize. I didn’t wish it on them. But I wish one of them could know. Any of them.

Being around their happy babies made me feel even worse about my miserable one. Are they judging me? Do they pity me? Are they glad they’re not me?

I wouldn’t wish colic on my worst enemy. And I really hate my worst enemy.

A Fussy Baby isn’t a baby who fusses. All babies fuss. All babies have off times, off days, off hours. They can’t talk. They can barely cognate. Lots have difficulty falling asleep and staying asleep. But, Fussy Babies are a particular breed. They take much more effort to soothe and to handle. They are unhappy more often than not, even if they’re not constantly crying.

I get defensive about my experience because of how markedly different it was from the people I was surrounded by in those days. I wished, during every second of visits with friends and their babies, that my baby could be more like theirs.

Why can’t she just sit on my lap and look around?

Why can’t she be awake and happy?

Why does she hate life so much?!?

There is something life changing about parenting a high needs baby. It changes your tolerance. It changes your perspective. It effects how you respond to other parents and their own experience. It can’t not. I was definitely quicker to freak out when my second child was fussy, because I felt I had already paid my dues with my first.

I now go out of my way to reach out to people who are going through what I did, because I know how alone they can feel. I get that there is a difference between someone who says they understand, and someone who actually does.

To have a resource of people who understand is invaluable. I wish there was such a resourse for me during those days.

I am grateful to have a voice, and to have a perspective and a medium through which I am able to offer the ear, the shoulder, and the understanding that I so needed.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 5 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

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My daughter screamed, on average, 20 hours a day, for four months.

Forty-five minute increments were her regular stretches of sleep. My husband and I would high-five if we got an hour and a half stretch.

She had colic.

All of my friends had happy, cooing, smiling babies.

I had El Screamo.

There was no one to commiserate with, or to vent to, who could really understand. I felt so alone. What I needed was a colic primer. But there isn’t one. So here it is. My own version of one anyway. For any one who is going through the torture of colic, I offer what ever wisdom I can possibly impart. I understand. I’ve been there.

Try to go easy on misguided people who are just trying to help.

I *may* have snapped at a man at Ikea who offered up the idea that my daughter must be hungry. Perhaps, “I just ripped my boob from her face about 3 minutes ago, so I’m sure that’s not it, but thanks”, was not the most reasonable thing to say in response. In fairness, he was the sixth person to say that to me that day.

Try to ignore people who tell you horror stories they’ve heard of other colicky kids.

You know someone whose son had colic for two years? Super. How is that supposed to be helpful? And really, if it lasted for two years, it wasn’t colic. 

Ignore people who tell you it peaks at six weeks, or two months, or three.

Nothing is worse than staring at that date on a calendar, only to have it come and go, while your kid remains colicky. It will get better. But no one can tell you when. Just get through today.

Release yourself of the guilt.

It wasn’t that coffee you had or that fight you and your husband had when you were pregnant, or your labour and delivery experience, that caused the colic. Your baby doesn’t hate you. You’re not doing anything wrong. They’re just having a much harder time adjusting to life outside the womb than the average kid. 

Remember you and your spouse are on the same team. 

He works all day and comes home to a stressed and exhausted wife and a screaming baby. Meanwhile, she’s just spent her whole day with said screaming baby. It really is equally hard on both of you.

It’s so easy to be resentful. You can’t take out your frustrations on your baby, so the natural thing is to take them out on each other. But you need to lean on each other.

Try everything.

Gripe water, Ovol, probiotics, different formulas if you’re formula feeding, or cutting out dairy if you’re breast feeding, soothers (you name a brand, we tried it), swings, swaddle, no swaddle, crib, carrier, car, co-sleep, white noise, tarot cards, try it all.

None of it may work, but at least you’ll know you tried. I’m a huge believer in eliminating all variables.

Have other people hold your baby.

I can’t count the number of times I passed off my little screamer to willing friends and family.

If you’re alone, there is nothing wrong with putting the baby in a safe place and walking away for a few minutes to regain your sanity. The baby is going to cry anyway and your ringing ears could use the break.

Do stuff for yourself.

Go for walks on your own when you have someone to watch the baby. Go to a local coffee shop or get a manicure. Do something, anything, to remind yourself that you are an entity separate from this screaming being who is ruling your life. You need to take care of yourself before you can take care of anyone else.

Don’t worry about creating bad habits.

You can’t spoil a newborn and anything learned can be unlearned. No one has been known to still be sleeping in a swing in kindergarten, or accept their diploma from the comfort of the Baby Bjorn.

Worry about those things later. For now, it’s all about survival.

My mother told me in those days, even though I didn’t realize it, everything I was doing and experiencing, was helping to create the person my daughter would become. I was tending to her needs, even though it felt like I was resenting her and just going through the motions.

But now, I have a secure, sweet, kind and hilariously funny two and a half year old.

I can say with all confidence that I wouldn’t give back one day of colic to change who she is now.

Leslie lives in Toronto with her husband, her 2 and a half year old daughter and 5 month old son. She is presently on maternity leave and enjoying the hectic and harried life with two young children.

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