These funny first-day-of-school pictures will have you laughing into your (cold) coffee
Forget about the letterboard back-to-school school pictures, one mama has a genius first-day photo tradition of her own and her idea will make you laugh.
Leslie Brooks started her fabulously funny first-day of school photo shoots back in 2013 when her daughters were elementary school-aged. Now that her kiddos are teens and tweens, she’s made the pics into an annual event.
Brooks’ photos celebrate the freedom that back to school-time brings to parents, with scenes we all kind of dream about. From a relaxing doorstep massage to floating in the pool (on a unicorn while drinking a Starbucks Frap), Brooks’ pics totally nail the first-day vibe—from the mom’s perspective of course.
She’s not the only one who looks forward to the annual event. Her IG followers and friends wait anxiously to see what kind of picture Leslie and her crew will display each year. One commenter said “The most anticipated Instagram post of the year. We all look forward to the “First day of school” pic. You never let us down. 😂😂😂😂. Those faces. 😂😂😂😂😂”
So what do Brooks’ kiddos think of her annual photo shoots? The mom toldGood Morning America, “The kids say to me all the time, ‘this is our awesome tradition.'” Brooks went on to add, “We have so much fun with it, they really have come to look forward to the pictures every year. They even started coming up with costume and prop ideas.” But is she really THAT excited to see them go? Not really. “I adore my children,” Brooks said. “Summers are awesome and I really don’t look forward to them going back to school. I miss them incredibly.”
I stood in the doorway to our family room after settling the kids in bed and said to my husband, Billy, “Have a minute?”
I was anxious, although I hadn’t told him. Friends of ours were divorcing after 14 years, and the end of their marriage had started me thinking about ours.
I am not even sure I waited for his answer.
I told him that I’d been thinking about our marriage and that I’d give it a solid B. Maybe even a B+ on a good day. We were good friends, had three terrific kids, and didn’t fight about money or sex or family. I told him I thought we could be an A with some small changes.
“I feel overwhelmed by the sole responsibility of our financial life and I worry about something happening to me. I’d like you to help me manage our finances,” I said. “I’d also like us to do something together. Something just for the two of us not related to the kids. Let’s take dance lessons or volunteer or something else together, just you and me.”
Billy hadn’t looked up, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t listening. We often talked this way—me outlining a plan and him surfing the web.
I waited. He still said nothing.
“What do you think?”
He looked up from his tablet. “No,” he said.
I laughed. Surely he was joking. He was always joking. “No? To which part?”
“To all of it. I’m tired of changing to try to please you. I am tired of not being enough. You knew who I was when you married me. It was good enough then; it should be good enough now. I’m not changing.”
I blinked and swallowed, trying to buy myself a minute before responding.
We’d had this argument a thousand times: me shouting for something new, chasing change, and him quietly saying no. It was the central source of tension in our relationship. Usually, I overruled him and talked him into submission. This was a bit of a stunner; to say no to working on us was a powerful statement.
I was speechless.
I turned around and tidied the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, I went upstairs to bed.
I put myself in counseling the next week. I told the therapist that my husband and I were having marital issues, that he didn’t want to work on our marriage, and that I was there to learn how to help him change his mind. She gently explained that’s not how marital therapy (and most of life) works. “He’s either here, or he’s not. Until he’s here, we work on what you can control.”
Over the days and weeks that followed, Billy stood his ground. He had told me, throughout our marriage and the last month, that he wasn’t changing. The partnership I envisioned was not the one he wanted. I didn’t have to explain myself differently—he understood me. He simply disagreed.
With help from my therapist, I heard him. I understood that he was separate from me, with his own voice and perspective and path. I understood he wasn’t changing. I could accept that and stay, or reject it and leave.
I chose to leave.
Terrible days followed. Days when I doubled over in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store panicked that I was losing my best friend. Days when we had to tell our children news so painful that years later I can still see their faces as they heard it. But the truth, that we wanted different things and were not able to achieve those things together, never wavered.
We divorced.
Now I see that night and our relationship much more clearly. I can see the ridiculousness of my independently grading our relationship and devising a performance improvement plan. The idea that I alone knew what was best for us, never incorporating his viewpoint or acknowledging his dissent, was commonplace rather than noteworthy.
I’d become Billy’s manager rather than his partner. His steadfast refusal to change or visit a counselor belied the years of built-up anger. My controlling behaviors and his resulting resentment were threads woven as consistently through our story together as our memories of travel and our little ones’ love and laughter.
It took me a long time to get enough distance to look back on this and change my perspective. Truthfully, we are better parents separate than we were apart. Gone is the resentment of our defined roles. Gone is the quiet dysfunction that was woven through our communication. We are free from the patterns we created together that made it hard to breathe when we were together.
We are so far from that first crack that the children sometimes wonder why we divorced at all. They see us interacting easily now, chatting about movies we’re looking forward to or the new restaurant opening in town. They see the remaining positive connection and ask why we aren’t together.
Lottie asks most often because she doesn’t remember much of the time when we all occupied the same space and sometimes keenly feels the pain and complexity of living separately.
I tell her the truth.
Her dad and I are good friends and were bad partners. The divorce ended our partnership. It was very sad and painful, and we had to grieve that loss. But ultimately, separating gave us the boundaries we needed, allowing each of us to independently forge a relationship with our children and take responsibility for the direction of our individual lives. It freed us from the constant push and pull we were locked in. Years later, we could pick up the threads of the friendship and drop the weight of what wasn’t working.
Kate Chapman is a mom and stepmom to six. She writes about her modern-day Brady Bunch adventures at This Life in Progress. Drawing on her experience and background in psychology and sociology, Kate addresses the tricky topics of divorce, coparenting and blended families. She enjoys eating leftovers and hiding in the bathroom.
Looking at life from a different perspective can be a challenging lesson to teach young children. But this is how you can help your child shift their mindset from being focused on the center of self, to an observer of the world around them. This can be done through play and invites the possibility to engage others, objects, and landscapes in a creative way. Playing with perspective supports the notion that we are not limited to seeing things from one viewpoint. We can go beyond our limitations of what we see by using the inventiveness of our imagination.
Looking through a different lens can also help to shift a negative state of mind as it interrupts the way we see our surroundings in the immediate moment. Think of different perspectives as a cognitive brain exercise, in order to see things from a different aspect, we have to look outside the box and help shift attention from self to others. It is a social and emotional skill that requires empathy and understanding.
This activity can also be used as a tangible emotional self-regulation tool, pick up the butterfly and go for a walk when emotions are heightened, to take a look at life from a different angle.
Materials You Need to Craft Your Own Butterfly Perspective Lens:
Recycled box
Black Marker
Box cutter
Directions to Make the Butterfly Perspective Lens:
1. Cut out one side of the box
2. Draw the shape of a large butterfly
3. Cut out the wings of the butterfly
4. Take your butterfly on a walk, discover the world through a different perspective
Hi! I am an author, founder and educator. I have a Bachelor of Media Communications, Bachelor of Elementary Education Degrees as well as an Early Childhood Montessori Certification and in the process of completing a Master of Education. I live between New York and Byron Bay. I'm the mama of Grace, Theodore and Little Dude!
Always ask permission as a sign of respect and consideration for the child’s experience and perspective.
Approach with a gentle stride and a calm demeanor. Place your hand on their back and sweetly ask, “May I check your diaper? Then wait for 7-to-10 seconds, giving them time to respond.
When a child says “no” and it is necessary to change it, honor the “no” by responding, “I hear you, you aren’t ready, I can come back in a few minutes and ask again.” When you return, the intent and verbiage should be different. “I am back. It is time to change your diaper now. Are you ready?”
If a child says no again: “You still aren’t ready, I understand, hmmm, I am worried if the pee or poop sit in your diaper, it may give you a rash, and I want to keep your skin and body safe, it is time now.” Then acknowledge the disruption by explaining how you will support them. “I see you are busy playing, so I will do it quickly so you can come right back to play.” More respect and acknowledgment of them and their perspective. You are building partnership and modeling respectful behavior in relationships.
Stick with respect and offer choices, so they feel like they are in control. “Would you like to walk to the diaper table, or would you like me to carry you?” This is a crucial moment for the child, you, your relationship, and future diaper changes because you are honoring the child’s experience and this detail is not going to be lost on them. In fact, they are taking it all in, making notes on what respect feels like. You are planting some serious and powerful seeds in these moments.
If they resist moving and plant their feet or throw their body down, say (and this is a gem that you will use often) “Ah, I heard you say you wanted to walk, but now you are choosing to stay still, you are telling me you want me to carry you, I would be happy to help.” Then bend down, still with love and kindness, pick up their body and carry them to the changing table.
The key in these moments is to avoid engaging in this resistant behavior. Your only job is to steady the course, no matter what attempt at distraction your little throws your way. This is a stellar opportunity to practice acceptance of all choices. Whatever the child does, accept it, take it in, and adapt but steady the course. This diaper change Is happening, buddy.
Children want us to be leaders because it permits them to be leaders in their own lives. Even though they are making it hard for you, they are testing your relationship.
When you steady the course and don’t let them pull you into their distraction, they feel loved by you. When you let them distract you or wear you down and/or abandon your mission, they question your commitment to them, and you become untrustworthy.
Here is another opportunity to model respect and ask, “May I pick you up?”
Typically, they will raise their little hands to say yes. Asking if you can pick allows them to prepare their body to be picked up. As soon as you ask the question, their brains communicate to their bodies to flex the necessary muscles to prepare to be picked up. This enables your child to feel strong and participate when you pick them up. Grabbing a child to pick them up without warning is shocking and scary. Asking and waiting until you have their attention and permission will support them physically, mentally, and will build more trust between you both.
Now that the child is in your arms, gently and lovingly lay them down, supporting their head and entire body until they are lying comfortably.
Once the child is lying comfortably, take a breath, lay your hand gently on their belly and look into their eyes. Smile sweetly and ask, “Are you ready?” Wait for them to respond and then begin the diaper change.
First: Ask them to help while you remove their bottoms. “Will you please lift your legs in the air so I can remove your bottoms?” then watch as they gleefully shoot their legs in the air.
Second: Tell them what you are doing next. “I am going to use this wipe to clean your body. It may be a little cold.” Then gently wipe them and, if necessary, hold their legs up with a gentle, respectful grip.
Third: Hold the new diaper and show it to them. “I am going to put this fresh diaper on you now. Will you please lift your legs again?” They are usually thrilled to assist you in this way, and their legs go flying in the air. “Thank you! That is so helpful.” Then slide the diaper under their bottom and ask them to please lower their legs back down.
This level of commitment to respectful interaction around diaper changes will create a beautiful relationship between you and the children you care for. They will rarely resist having a diaper change because the experience will be rich in connection, and connection leads to cooperation.
Avoid giving children electronics to distract them during a diaper change. You will be teaching them to check out when someone is touching them.
Avoid negative responses to how their poop smells or how much they pooped. It is embarrassing and disrespectful to make fun of how a child’s body creates smelly or gross things. They will interpret it to mean they are gross or smelly. Stay neutral, matter of fact, no big deal, all in a day’s work.
Stay present with your little one when changing a diaper. Stay off the phone and avoid interruption until the diaper change is complete. Make eye contact as much as possible and talk with them about the details. They love you. They trust you. This is a beautiful time to honor them, teach them, and model kindness.
Sarah is a child behavior & respectful child care expert. She has been coaching parents in effective respectful care strategy for over 10 years. She makes complex parenting issues simple to navigate and her methods are clear, effective and provide immediate relief for both parent and child.ehavior specialist and
Beginning on Skyler’s first birthday, I started a tradition of writing a letter to him highlighting his likes, dislikes, achievements, funny moments, family adventures, playmates, and favorite television shows. In addition, I take a photo of him wearing a necktie as a way of charting his growth.
My vision, when creating and continuing this annual time capsule, was to present to Skyler, a ribbon-tied stack of letters and photos containing eighteen years of memories on the day of his graduation from high school.
Coming to the realization, many years following his autism diagnosis, that graduation, in a traditional sense, would not be a likelihood for Skyler was hard. However, it never derailed me from crafting those special birthday letters because I know one day in the future, I will share them with him.
Perhaps the silver lining or renewed perspective of Skyler not fleeing the nest this year, like his peers, is that I am privileged to share his daily experiences and accomplishments into adulthood.
I’m confident the day will come when Skyler communicates to me, on his own timeline, that he’s ready to receive my gift of thoughtfully crafted memories. Watching Skyler read and absorb every word, whether he’s 24 or 44, will be the equivalent of a graduation day to me—and I will be extremely proud.
So, on this eve of Skyler’s 18th birthday, I grabbed a few sheets of the special stationery that is used to pen his letters and a full box of tissues while I revisited every achievement, new adventure and challenge he experienced this past year.
This is my 18th birthday letter to Skyler:
To my handsome and admirable son,
I honestly can’t believe I am writing my 18th birthday letter to you. This past year has brought with it dramatic and unprecedented events both in our world and in your life.
It was around this time last year that the word Coronavirus became a part of everyone’s vocabulary. Due to the severity and vast spreading, our daily routines and public gatherings came to a drastic and lengthy halt.
You were unable to return to your ABA center for almost two months, which was much milder than most of the population who were forced to learn from home for an entire year—causing a significant regression of many skills.
While at home, Josh and I were desperate to keep your communication moving forward, so void of any therapist assistance, I created a PECS board and eventually transitioned you to an AAC device to revisit that method with you.
You clearly appreciated having the ability to make choices for yourself through the pictures which were evident by your smile when we all seemed to understand each other.
For the first time in years, you appeared eager to share your thoughts, needs and wants with us, so when the concept of “Spelling to Communicate” (S2C) was introduced to me, it seemed like divine timing.
Wow! I am SO glad we took that leap of faith and brought S2C into our lives.
Watching you utilize the letter boards to answer age-appropriate reading comprehension questions for the past eight months has been nothing short of incredible.
I frequently feel an overwhelming need to apologize to you, Skyler—for underestimating you and for my failure to recognize how intelligent you are and always have been.
From a health perspective, you have remained at a standstill. Thankfully, you have always been healthy and are very rarely sick. However, the hitting, banging and hair-pulling seem to be on the increase instead of you aging out of those ‘stims’ as I’d hoped.
I’ve never been convinced that your challenging behaviors are “just part of having autism” as we’re so often told and given medications to treat. I know deep in my heart that you’re demonstrating anger and suffering due to Ulcerative Colitis. I promise you that I will never give up researching and looking for answers to improve your quality of life. I pray every day that the solutions will come quickly so you will finally be relieved of your pain.
Despite your constant discomfort, your smile and deep belly laugh, especially when Josh wrestles with you, lights up the room.
If given the option, your daily meals would always include a Qdoba burrito bowl and Tucker’s bun-less cheeseburger with mashed potatoes in the rotation.
Watching Sesame Street, particularly Elmo’s World is still a favorite pastime of yours as is listening to an eclectic array of music. During our countless car rides to nowhere, you bounce perfectly to the beat of any song and launch into a hardy giggle when I freestyle my own lyrics—which are usually about food or bath time.
As I reviewed the very first birthday letter that I wrote you in 2004, a particular statement really stuck out to me. “My hope for you over the course of your life is that you continue to be happy and free-spirited. I want you to always try new things and never let anyone or anything stand in your way. I love the light in your eyes that seek out to learn and never quits even when times get frustrating.”
I didn’t know of your autism diagnosis on that day or even that year.
My greatest hope for you today is the exact same, 17 years later. Please never lose that spark in your eyes and determination in your heart to keep growing and achieving.
I love you with all my heart Skyler, exactly as God made you. I truly believe you were sent into this world as a vessel to teach me, and possibly everyone you encounter, some valuable life lessons.
I am forever grateful that I have been entrusted to guide and nurture you through this life. You are perfect, just as you are.
As I’ve always said, “Out of all the little boys in the world, how did I get the very best one?”
In a year of many ups and downs—both for my family and so many others around the world—I have learned to answer the question “How are you?” very honestly. Why waste time with the niceties of replying with the default answer of “I’m good” when I may not be feeling that good inside? My preference is to be open and honest when I am asked “How are you?” because what I have discovered is that the people in my life who truly care about me will want to hear my real answer, which is “I’m okay.” Yes, just okay. From my perspective, this pandemic seems to have brought out both the worst and the best in people. You learn who unconditionally has your back and whose love was perhaps only conditional.
My family has been on high alert since the pandemic began over a year ago, and with good reason. I’ve always had the ability to work from home, as my job as a Marketing Communications Manager for a global dairy company allowed for it. My challenge is that I am diagnosed with Hashimoto’s disease, an autoimmune disorder that puts me in the at-risk part of the population. My husband, Brent, works outside of the home as a contractor, so he’s needed to be extra cautious during the past year.
We have two amazing children, Noah and Amelia (Mia). Noah recently graduated from eighth grade without all the fanfare and celebration that typically comes with such an event. To start high school, he opted to stay home because there had been COVID cases at his school and he didn’t want to put his family at risk. Noah is also a competitive swimmer at the club and high school levels. Thank god he has an outlet to keep him active, grounded, and safely social. The other swim moms and I have made every effort to keep the kids connected and in the pool as much as possible over the last year; we help each other in the process.
Amelia is our angel with special needs. When she was three weeks old, she suffered a massive seizure that led to acute ischemic stroke. The doctors discovered that she has a complex vein of Galen malformation, quadriplegic cerebral palsy, and acute complex brain injury, which means a high level of care is needed in case of seizures. Amelia is nine years old now and needs constant attention and care. She is non-verbal and on a specialized diet. She’s e-learning for a few hours a day with the help of a nanny that works with her three days a week while I handle the other two. A few months ago, she started randomly vomiting and her doctors haven’t been able to figure out the cause of the issue. She’s been in and out of the hospital with my husband by her side for the most part. It’s scary, and I just want my husband and daughter home for the long term.
Needless to say, the past year has been both mentally and emotionally challenging for me, and I look for ways to maintain grace and balance each day. My workouts on the Peloton have been an outlet where I can find a release and ugly-cry if the mood strikes. I’ve taken care of my physical self, however, my emotional self might need some work still. Yet, I’m learning that perhaps I have more strength and resilience in me than I thought I did.
What’s been perhaps the most joyous and heart-breaking symptom of our situation is that it’s enabled me to clearly see who matters most in my space—who my true friends are. It’s been both eye-opening and cathartic. There have been moments when you need someone and they aren’t there. I acknowledge that everyone is going through different levels of crisis—and my family has to be extremely careful 24/7—but it’s difficult to watch friendships that I thought were so strong suddenly disappear. It’s nothing that I did, and I have no idea what they are going through, but there’s a feeling of loss and grief as a result of this. Even in the midst of all this, we still have so much to be grateful for. We’re still here, we are together, and we are taking the necessary precautions for our family.
Peeking through the clouds of lost friendships are some new ones. Strong communities of people have emerged in my life. I have bonded with some incredibly supportive people from the Peloton community and I’ve never even met them in person. Some of those folks also have children with special needs, and it’s that kind of supportive community that I never knew I needed. My very best friends whom I have known since grade school are my constants and I am beyond grateful for these women. The moms from my son’s swim team have become a second family to me, as we all try to support our children during this time. I can still see family members and my best friends over Facetime or Zoom, and I’ve even reconnected with people during all of this. I now have these unique and caring support networks that keep me going, but there is still a sense of loss in all of it.
But it’s not just us—everyone is going through their own personal journey during this time. It’s a global issue. I’ve learned that I have a voice and I’m learning how to use it, too. Writing and speaking are helping me build confidence while also being vulnerable. I’ve learned to answer the “How are you?” question honestly, and I’ve found it helps me relate to other people and build connections with them. People who make the effort during this time are people who truly have your back. As I’ve learned through this challenging time, the one thing that truly is what perspective you have and how you choose to use it.
My husband Brent and I have two children - Noah and Amelia, also known as “Miracle Mia”. I can often be found reading a book, running, or sweating it out at my local OrangeTheory. I also enjoy traveling and have a deep passion for raising funds and volunteering.
Disney+ recently announced the upcoming release of LAUNCHPAD, a curated collection of live-action short films that comes from a whole new generation of filmmakers.
The artists chosen for the inaugural season of LAUNCHPAD all come from underrepresented backgrounds. More than 1,100 filmmakers applied for the chance to share their vision and perspectives with the world, but these six stood out from their peers.
After the winners were chosen, each of the filmmakers were given the chance to work with an executive mentor from one of the Disney brand’s branches—Disney+, Marvel Studios, Lucasfilm, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures Production and Walt Disney Animation Studios.
This year’s Launchpad films were inspired by different aspects of life’s journey and follow the theme “Discover.” Mahin Ibrahim, Director of Disney’s Diversity & Inclusion, Market, who oversees the LAUNCHPAD program, said in a press release, “this first group of shorts by these six gifted filmmakers took our breath away. They are moving, provocative and entertaining, and they each convey a unique perspective on living in America today and the things you learn about yourself and others when you follow your own path.”
This season’s LAUNCHPAD films will debut on Disney+ starting May 28 and include American Eid written and directed by Aqsa Altaf, Dinner is Served written by G. Wilson and Hao Zheng and directed by Hao Zheng, Growing Fangs written and directed by Ann Marie Pace, The Last of the Chupacabras written and directed by Jessica Mendez Siqueiros, Let’s Be Tigers written and directed by Stefanie Abel Horowitz and The Little Prince(ss) written and directed by Moxie Peng.
“I peed all over myself and I ruined my new, special, sparkly shoes from my baby sister. It was my gift from my baby sister! It’s all ruined!”
This was not at all how I imagined my first night home from the hospital with my second daughter but that is the first thing I heard when I walked through the door.
No, the night I brought my newborn into my family fold was carefully planned and rehearsed in my mind. My toddler would come to meet us at the hospital, we would all go home as a family, we would turn in early. But the best laid plans are just that – plans- and reality is a grainier version of our dreams so often. At least it was that night.
One of the most important principles of integrating a new sibling into a family is to make sure that the older son or daughter still feels special during the whole process. So, we had slyly sleuthed out a gift “from” baby sister that she would receive at the hospital. In this case, in keeping with my daughter’s obsession with fancy shoes (not my fault, I swear), we bought her a pair of gold, glittery mary janes with huge bows on the toes. When she arrived to meet her new sister, she was ecstatic to see her and to try on her shoes. So ecstatic, in fact, that she forgot that she needed to make a potty stop later that afternoon while on a walk, fell while running down an incline on the sidewalk in the neighborhood and came home with a bloody knee, urine in her shoes and a very discouraged dad.
The bad news? Things didn’t go quite as planned. The good news? By the next morning, she had completely forgotten about the incident and was back to her happy self. AND, the more important things we planned DID work.
Here are some of the key moves I recommend and used myself to make the addition of a second sibling extremely smooth overall:
1. We talked about baby a lot before she was born. From pretending she was laughing when my toddler tickled my pregnant belly to letting my daughter feel her kick, she was very much a part of our lives before she ever existed on the outside. We also brought up in conversation what it would be like to have a baby (“When babies are little they don’t talk, they cry a lot, but we can give them little kisses on the head and we can love on them”) and also talked about funny things the baby would do so we had some jokes to laugh about when baby came (“The baby will toot a lot, she’ll have little burps, she’ll yawn”). It worked. “Hey, she did burp!” my daughter exclaimed that first morning home.
2. We kept my physical connection with my daughter intact as much as possible. When my eldest arrived at the hospital, her first question (after whispering, “hello mama” and giving me the tiniest wave) was to ask when it was ok for her to crawl onto my lap. It was the sweetest request and one I recognized as a need to know I was still her mom, still the one she could hold. I answered “right now!” and we had my husband hold the baby while I held onto my precious, big girl. Others have done this similarly – they have another person hold onto the baby when the older child enters the room or they have the baby in the bassinet so the child is coming back to just the parents. There is no perfect way. The most important is for your little (big) one to feel like they have not been replaced.
3. We introduced language and standards so both kids knew from the start that there was a give and take. We knew we would be saying, “Just a minute, I’m taking care of your sister,” quite a bit to our older daughter just given the way newborns tend to need attention. So, when we were helping our toddler with a task and our newborn started to cry or fuss, we used that same phrase with her as we finished up.
4. We attended to our own sense of loss. I underestimated how much I would miss my older daughter when I had my newborn. I watched my husband play with her, give her a bath and put her to bed. It didn’t take long before I really MISSED her. In the first few days, it was impossible physically for me to take care of her to the same extent he could. So, instead, I had my daughter sit with me as we watched a movie (special treat!), read a book or just snuggled.
5. We kept our same traditions. We’ve had a tradition for the past 3 years of snuggling in bed in the morning on the weekends as a family. My husband and I used it at first as a little reward for my daughter sleeping through the night but then it stuck and was a happy way for us to start the weekend, too. We used to call it, “Three Peas in a Pod” and she would climb in and pull the covers over all of us. Now we call it “Four Peas in a Pod.” It takes a little more maneuvering to make sure that no one (ie. me or the baby) gets mauled as she jumps in, but it’s worth it to preserve the sense of tradition for my daughter.
6. We gave my daughter little jobs to do to help us. We never tell her she has to help with the baby but we ask her if she can take the used diapers to the diaper pail and if she can find the fresh diaper for us. She loves it. Now she comes over and waits for me to finish changing baby so that she can do her job. She is thrilled to be a big helper. Every child is different but this totally plays to her personality to be involved and to be “big.” It also gives us something to praise during days where she is acting out a little because she’s not getting quite as much attention as she normally gets.
7. We planned mommy-daughter time. As soon as physically possible (for me at about 3 weeks in), I planned a mommy-daughter date where my toddler and I went – just us- no baby, and did something super fun. For us, it was going to a little kids’ concert and to the bakery for a treat. We left for long enough that it felt like an adventure for her (about 2-3 hours) but not for so long that I had to pump more than once to make it happen. I needed to reconnect and she did, too. Taking little breaks from the baby as soon as possible was so important to remind myself of what I have to look forward to, too. When you’re a new mom, you feel like “this is it – my life may ALWAYS look like this.” When you’re a second-time mom, you have more perspective as you look at your older child and see that they made it. Still, it’s easier to keep that perspective when you get moments away from the baby and with your older, more interactive child.
Planning to bring baby #2 home? Expect it to be amazing… and complicated and messy. Coming home to urine-filled, brand-new shoes and a crestfallen face of tears? Not my ideal. But the love my daughter has for her little sister is so worth all the drama. Yesterday she looked at the baby, looked up at me and smiled. “Isn’t she wonderful, mom?” she whispered. Alright, it’s definitely worth it, I thought, soggy shoes and all.
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I'm a pediatrician and a mama mindset expert. I host The Modern Mommy Doc Podcast, and am a mom to two young girls in Portland, Oregon. I'm also author of The New Baby Blueprint and The Working Mom Blueprint from the American Academy of Pediatrics.
I just finished an early morning exercise class. It was only 45 minutes long. By about minute 40, right when the final stretch got underway, I took a second to look around. Half the class had vacated the room and were on their way to the showers, rushing out to the rest of their days.
Now, I get that people have busy lives. I’ve definitely been in the “hurry out the door” pack before. There are times that important meetings or tasks take us quickly from checkbox to checkbox on our daily to-do list—no judgment there. But, still, the hasty mass exodus struck me as a powerful metaphor for the angst of early parenthood. For the frustration most all of us face as we hold our screaming newborn (or toddler) in the middle of the night and say to ourselves, “When will this be over? Can I just skip ahead? I’d like to leave this stage a little early.”
It’s so normal to wish away the painful parts of parenting, despite the admonishments of those further along the parenting path to “treasure the time you have.” I swear, those people must have memory loss. There are plenty of infant and toddler precious moments but there are also plenty more moments of pure stress and strife.
The real danger isn’t just with wishing the nasty parts away. It’s with these two fatal mistakes: 1. Trying to fix every natural stage a child goes through and 2. Expecting the transition through those stages to progress in a straight line, instead of a messy zig-zag.
It’s a trap reserved mostly for first-time moms and dads, but all second-timers fall into it from time to time, too, especially when they have more than one kid to juggle. I see it a lot in my practice. While a lot of new parents understand pretty quickly that feeding troubles and sleepless nights are just part of the game, some seem to bang their head against the wall with what seems like shock and terror as each new developmental stage (and headache) arises. They can’t seem to accept that certain childhood behaviors are just a normal part of growing up. And, while I’m impressed by their tenacious desire and willingness to problem-solve, sometimes I think they’ve been misled along the way by their friends and by our society.
No one tells them this crucial parenting pearl: yes, we can prevent and address a lot of health issues that come up for newborns and young kids but some things (like cluster feeding, sleep regressions and colic) are more about muddling through with the right perspective than they are about finding quick-fix solutions. Some things just take time to get better (major caveat here: if you have a serious health concern about your child and are worried about their safety or about potential illness, contact your doctor right away).
Plus (and don’t let this get you too depressed but it’s totally true), seasoned parents know that it’s not worth it to wish too hard for each stage to pass because they ALL have some annoying component in the early years. As soon as you breathe a sigh of relief that the “Terrible Twos” are over, in come the “Threenagers.” I mean, why do we even bother naming separate stages of annoyance for early childhood?
Please don’t misunderstand me. There are amazing, chart-topping experiences sprinkled in between the pain points. Like last night, when my eldest scampered up the stairs to sit through her baby sister’s bedtime story and song, crooning right alongside me to “Good Night My Someone,” my husband grinning as the two shared a hug and an Eskimo kiss. I tried my hardest to seal our fleeting seconds of peace into my memory, onto my parenting balance sheet.
So why is it so hard for us to get okay with the place we are in on our motherhood journey?
The more I struggle in my own house and watch others do the same, the more clearly I see the true reason: The rest of our lives, on the surface, have some semblance of controllability. All of our two-hour grocery delivery options and pick-up dry cleaning services trick us into thinking that, if we just complain to the right customer-service agent or do the right google search, we can fix most anything. We can get anything faster if we just pay more for it. Resolution is an easy click away. When we look deeper, though, nothing could be further from the truth when it comes to the challenges of non-consumer life.
Plus, we’ve made our vision of perfect parenthood a nostalgic mess. It can seem like the bar is set too high to ever reach modern-day parenting perfection. The further we get away from living with a village mentality – where we are sharing experiences and burdens with other parents and multigenerational mentors – the harder it is to see the truth clearly: no parent or child is perfect – we all have troubles and trials.
So what can we do? Get educated about normal baby and child development. Get mindful. Prioritize self-care. Plan really enjoyable, special one-on-one moments with our kids to balance out the negative drama. Surround ourselves with other parents who get it and with experienced confidants who can give perspective. Then, relax, get comfy and wait.
There are seasons. Seasons of struggle. Seasons of celebration. Seasons of muddling through. And, seasons of letting it ride -just being okay with the stage of motherhood we’re in now.
I'm a pediatrician and a mama mindset expert. I host The Modern Mommy Doc Podcast, and am a mom to two young girls in Portland, Oregon. I'm also author of The New Baby Blueprint and The Working Mom Blueprint from the American Academy of Pediatrics.
It’s Spring, the weather is warmer. It’s the time when people start venturing out more, especially after this last year! My little family hops on our mountain bikes and finds some hills to ride. Last weekend, we found a perfect spot for the boys to ride that’s fun for us too. I’m not the best rider, but I’ve improved over the years. I know enough to shout reminders at my kids, which I’d probably do even if they didn’t need it. I’m sure I’ll learn to keep more to myself when they’re older and let them blissfully take risks as I silently cringe. As I watched my kiddos zip around corners and zoom along the trail, it occurred to me that these biking reminders apply to life as well.
The consequences are different, but the reminders are equally helpful. You won’t be careening off a cliff or ending up in the weeds. At least, I hope not. You could, however, end up in a life you don’t enjoy or in a seemingly inescapable slump. No bueno.
To improve the flow of mountain biking (and life), remember these three things:
1. Look where you want to go!
If you’re looking at the scary obstacles, or down the edge of a cliff where you could plummet to your death, you’re more likely to go there. Keep your sights on where you want to go, especially around the curves. When things change direction slightly, it’s easier to lose focus or control. That’s the time when it’s most important to keep your sights on where you want to go. Eyes up!
2. Get some speed for the obstacles, then you’ll flow right over them!
Going over rocks, roots, and bumps are harder on the way up because you’re going slow. Once you get stronger, you’ll be able to go faster and roll right over the obstacles. No need to go crazy, but momentum keeps the flow going. You won’t even notice the little problems (bumps) along the way because your momentum will carry you over them easily. Same in life. If you’re not taking much action toward your goal, the problems seem insurmountable. Once you start taking action, you get stronger, and those little bumps aren’t a big deal anymore. You know you’re strong enough to handle them.
3. You’ve got to work a little at first to enjoy the fun that comes next!
When we first attempt any kind of incline with our boys, we get a fair amount of whining. (I’ll admit, when I first started biking, I whined just as much. Who enjoys biking up hills? My husband. 😬) Whining doesn’t help get you to the top, so I do my best to cheerfully get my kids to change their perspective. It’s not that you have to work yourself into the ground by working hard, but there’s always hard stuff! You’ve got to pedal those legs, take action, and make the uncomfortable stuff part of the fun. It makes you stronger and you learn to enjoy the entire journey, not just the endpoint.
Sometimes when we achieve goals it feels anticlimactic. We don’t take time to celebrate the achievement; it’s on to the next thing. If you enjoy the whole ride of life, not just the easy stuff or the successes, then you honor the whole experience. You celebrate, learn, and enjoy the whole trip. What journey are you on right now that you could celebrate more? Maybe grab a bike, go for a ride, and think about it!
Cara Maclean, Wellness Coach & Writer, works with moms to undo what keeps them exhausted. We cultivate the calm, joyful energy needed to handle any challenge with humor and grace. Author of Just the Way It Is: A Look at Gifted/2e Families, Spring 2022, GHF Press. Learn more at CaraMaclean.com
