On the nest

This week I learned that a dear friend of mine is expecting her own little bird. My mind immediately filled with unsolicited advice to pass on. I'm pledging to keep most of it to my inner monologue but I'm sure some will leak out. Yet, how accurate will these small bursts of "oh my god, don't forget to..." so-called wisdom be? The Gman is a newly minted three year old and I'll be the first to admit, there's a bunch of stuff I've already forgotten and things that have already changed since he was born.

So instead of focusing on the details of what onesie is best or what makes the perfect diaper bag, I realized there is just one piece of real advice I could offer:

Do what works for you.

It's that simple.

One thing I've remembered - and continue to be reminded of each day - is that there are few absolutes in this child-raising gig. Ok, there are some basic needs that must be met, laws and such but they have a lot of room for personal choice. Just because something worked for me doesn't mean it's the right one for you. Yes, you must put your baby in a car seat, but you choose which one, whether based on color, size, price or star alignment. You have to feed your child every day, but whether you use a football hold for breastfeeding or the generic brand of formula from Costco is your business.

Even if everyone says you must get XX product or your baby will die/turn into a monkey/incorrectly spell "vacuum" its entire life, you don't have to if it's not right for you. Trust your instincts and stay true to yourself.

Another touch of advice? Go ahead and plan, but guess what? These suckers are unpredictable. I found that out at the start - when the G-man was born, our hospital, the one we'd toured, registered at, packed the bags for, was full and we were sent to a different one down the street. My primary OB wasn't on-call so we got the backup doc. I thought we would have a girl, and the G-man is quite the boy. The pediatrician we'd so carefully researched wasn't on-call that week so another doctor appeared in our room. Even the names we had discussed for months fizzled out when it was time to sign the birth certificate. But guess what? The other hospital was fine; we had full faith in, affection and respect for the OB; we ended up liking the pediatrician so much we switched to him as our first choice; and of course, the G-man is aptly named. Nothing says go with the flow like being a parent.

As a sidebar bit of sage reflection: Don't be afraid to ask for help, and not just for things like what brand of wipes are good, but for the real stuff, you stuff. I know, I know, that is a hard thing to put into practice and I truly wish I would have learned how to do it sooner. But I firmly believe, a happy mom makes a happy baby. And I wish you nothing but happiness.