Another Pebble on Baby Beach
Don't argue with the bell curve
The way I was going to dodge all the stereotypical haggard new mom behaviors, well, that didn’t really happen. It didn’t happen at all.
Yeah, I hate the sound of my own voice saying things like, “I just want to shave my legs. Is that such a luxury?” Hearing myself make jokes about the spit-up on my shirt makes me want to spit up on the rest of my shirt.
It’s not cute and it’s not adorable to complain about getting peed on or about being a new mother with severe personal hygiene deficiencies. You know why? Because it’s not special. Guess what: You are not the first mother to leave the house with baby drool on your shoulder or with mismatched shoes, and neither am I.
It’s one thing to be a bad mother (in fact, it’s probably the worst thing you can do, and no one will forgive you for that shit), but it’s another one to be hacky in your new maternity complaints. I have not been able to avoid the latter, and only time will tell about the former.
Hold on.
All of this self-deprecation is getting in the way of me bragging. Give me a second, I’ll be boasting about myself soon enough, but let me just finish the self-loathing so I can feel better about the boasting.
Not only do I find myself making all the stock mom complaints (tired, hard to find time for sex, hair not washed, stomach not flat, doing laundry all day, no free time, no girl time, no time with grown ups, back hurts from holding baby, arms hurt from holding baby, asleep by 9 p.m., lost track of world events, baby sitters are so expensive, going to the movie costs $9,000 now, you get the idea) I’m in serious danger of falling into another cliché, the competitive preschool waiting list thing. That’s right, after yapping about how I’m never going to be one of those despicable hover parents who need to get their genius child into the most elite preschool that charges you $17,000 a year for “creative play,” after insisting I was sending Buster to the $60 a month pre-school run by the park and recreation department, this bullshit preschool thing I was outrunning caught me by the scruff. It caught me and now it’s forcing me to go to open houses and do research and figure out what they mean by “co-op” and “Waldorf.”
It was all well and good to flaunt my working class roots, to insist on sending my kid to the same kind of free city preschool that taught me so much about chalk drawing and swinging, but the very impulse that snares all the other normally reasonable parents tagged me. What if I screw my kid by going all cheapo on his first school? Although logic dictates that a tricycle is a tricycle and any place that doesn’t allow him to swallow marbles and eat Laffy Taffy for snack time is pretty much the same as the next, I can’t be sure. What if there really is some voodoo magic in those fancy schools that enables pupils to tackle concertos and theorems while speaking multiple languages and excelling at Irish clog dancing? If I don’t place him in a learning environment that properly conveys “conflict resolution,” will he end up kicking the shit out of people and telling me to go fuck myself? What if?
So, I turned my back on the park and rec school for a moment and went to my first private pre-school open house (well, half of it, I was rolling on “mom time”). I must say, though I didn’t understand most of the information about learning styles, I was truly impressed by the diversity of the other parents on the tour. There were white people, and there were super white people. There were even a couple insanely white people, so at least Buster would be exposed to all manner of white people.
As far as bragging goes, while I might be failing at the job of resisting parental peer pressure when it comes to preschool, I’m already pretty okay with mediocrity.
If intelligence, or physical abilities or appearance, language skills, coordination, if all of these things follow a standard distribution, if most babies cluster around the mean in terms of when they crawl or walk or talk or get teeth or conjugate verbs, it’s unlikely my baby will be an outlier in any area, statistically speaking. And so far, I don’t find him to be many standard deviations from the mean (other than in terms of size, because he has a giant, outlying pumpkin head and is unusually tall and heavy, or in the parlance of toddlers at the park, he “is fat like an elephant”). As far as the type of skills you brag about to other parents, I’m going to say hello to mediocrity and give it a warm bear hug.
My boy is about ten months old, and he doesn’t exactly crawl yet. He just rolls across the floor or scoots on his belly. He has a normal amount of teeth. He kind of says “mamamammam” but he ain’t referring to me as he babbles. He sees the cat and says “kah” or “kee kah.”
So far, he hasn’t set the world on fire with his precocity. I assume he will not be scooting to the prom on his belly, so I’m not worried. Sure, there’s something fun about having the kid who crawls at five months, walks at six, talks in full sentences at a year, writes in iambic pentameter at two. It’s undeniably cool having one of those stunning children about whom versions of the same story are always told (“We were at the mall, and a photographer asked if we wanted to get her into modeling” – “We were out to lunch, and an agent said he’d be perfect for commercials” – you’ve surely heard versions of the show-stopping baby story, the baby who is almost constantly begged to become a child actor by strangers in show business promising residuals and college funds).
I’d eat the cheeks off my boy and he’s adorable, but mama knows he’s not so far from the mean.
When my parents said that they just wanted me to be happy, I kind of believed them but empirical evidence showed me that they weren’t exactly bummed out when I won the spelling bee or the state poetry contest. Side note: earnest poetry written by a nine year-old from the point of view of a concentration camp inmate might win a contest or two, but could also be the worst prose ever written.
I knew where my bread was buttered, and in the land of American Jews, it’s buttered on the side of achievement. I don’t hold it against my people, because my grandparents came here as immigrants and were thus obsessed with public displays of “making it” here in the land of opportunity, but it sucks when the only way to stand out or be unabashedly loved is to become a concert cellist or chess master.
And having only been a mother for less than a year, I already understand the urge to see your child as faster and smarter, to squint and strain looking for ways your child is edging toward the righteous tail of that bell curve instead of hugging the midline, with all the other short stacks, just another pebble on baby beach.
For me, I’m resisting. I’m embracing the notion that Buster, like most of our kids, will be mostly average, and to look into their faces expecting otherwise is to hang a photo of parental disappointment on the locker of their psyches.
So do we go into debt to send our toddlers to the “best” preschool in town because we want to give them every advantage, or are we secretly hoping to maximize the odds of their Harvard admission so we can brag about it later and throw around some false modesty classics like, “I don’t know where he gets his smarts! Or, “How we’re going to afford it, I have no idea, but what can you do? He just scores so well on tests.”
Trying to tie this shit together is like trying to shove everything you’re going to need for the afternoon into a diaper bag, but I usually attempt that, so here goes.
One of my first epiphanies as a mother is that I am not unique. The bliss, the boredom, the sense of grief for the old life, the panic over poop color and rashes, the elation over milestones, the wanting to drive away and never come back between bouts of wanting to stare at his tiny face forever, this is basically how it is. I didn’t break the mom mold, and instead of needing to be different, I find deep comfort in being the same. While the banality of my maternal concerns can bore me, so can a good night’s sleep and a bowl of broccoli, and I need those things.
It follows that accepting my child for who he is, whether he walks at ten months or sixteen, whether he says “kitty cat” or “domesticated carnivorous mammal,” will also be comforting in the long run. Most moms, most babies, toddlers, tweens, teens, young adults, old people, most of us will be unexceptional, we’ll all need buckets of love and acceptance just because, and not just because we have an eight-octave range or can dunk.
The thing I notice about Buster, the thing that makes me want to brag though I usually manage to shut up about it, is that he smiles at strangers. And sometimes he smiles at the front door. Or at the “domesticated carnivorous mammal” whose hair he is clutching in his fat little fists. He smiles. I can’t believe I’m not even slightly full of crap when I say that this thrills me and makes me more proud than anything. If my child is a happy person, if his little soul is peaceful and his moods moderately mild, if he enjoys himself and seems to interact well with others – that will be his inner self enrolling in Harvard and I’ll be kvelling. Happiness has eluded me like the cat (mostly) eludes the baby. I grab at it, I eyeball it, I grasp it momentarily by the tail but it out runs me and scurries away before I can get it to curl up on my lap.
I hope I won’t ever need Buster to do anything extraordinary, but if he keeps up the smiling, and by extension, the overall sense of joie, even his happiness is only average, that will be good enough for me. And much cheaper than a Waldorf school.
hope to hear you again on the carolla podcast.
it sucks without you there.
So what really happened with “no more T-Bone and Bald Bryan” on Adam’s podcast? I noticed he even removed the link the pre-order your book so I was wondering what’s the dealio? Inquiring minds want to know so please address this…?? Many thanks and the Aceman’s podcast is really hurting without you and BB… just so you know.
I agree! The podcast is best with the three of you, why are you and Brayan suddenly absent? What happened? Is anyone going to say anything?
teresa
just thought you should know how beautiful, funny and quick-witted i think you are…
The funny ironic curse of lying about why your not breastfeeding……My first was born in 1995 and I gave her up for adoption at birth. My breasts filled in and there was an ample supply and I had to let them “dry up”. My second daughter was born in 2000 and for whatever reason, pumping, and I admit, only one visit with a lactation specalist, it did not happen. So my baby was pretty much bottle fed except for the few measly ounces I pumped out the first month or so.
There were mother in laws, breast natzies, and judgement (I am sure amplified by my guilt from lack of interest to pursue it further). Then, while using this device to make my nipples larger I read about INVERTED NIPPLES. A light bulb when off in my head! That is the answer! I will simply hang my head in shame when people ask and say “no, I just can’t my nipples are inverted and no matter how hard I tried I was unable to make it work.” It was brilliant! It was like the word spread! People felt bad for judging me (except my mom who rasied us in the 60′s when breast feeding was not in fashion).
Then, at about six months old, while changing diapers for the Church (tee hee) I noticed other little girl’s nipples looked nothing like my daughters. She looked like someone took the tip of a pin and pushed her nipples in. No red flesh, just skin with two indents. My heart started to quicken, guilt spread over me, WERE MY DAUGHTER’S NIPPLES NOW INVERTED?
Well, she is 10 now, and yes, they are inverted. She asked me a few months ago (I assume she has since seen a few and noticed they are different) “mommy will these pop out when I become a woman?” I said “I am not sure, probably not, nipples are like belly buttons some have innies and some have outies”. She was fine with that answer.
Now, at 42 (SCARRY) I am again with child, and again it is a girl. My fiancee asked if I will breastfeed. I simply said “no”. I will ofcourse make an attempt when she is born for that “liquid gold” but I assume my breasts will not cooperate and I will have to be a working mother in some capasity as financially there is no other way. But I vow to not lie EVER AGAIN. I am older now. I was, and in many ways very similar to Teresa in my self deprocating way, hard on myself and felt judgement where I am sure there is none. But as I have grown older I am still meek but no longer willing to hurt myself or those I love to appease people who barely know me.
So I wonder, what will I say now? I jokingly told a few friends “I am sorry I just don’t love my child enough to breasfeed.” Because they know that is not true and it made me giggle with a silly sense of empowerment. I am willing to take suggestions on what my anwer should/will be.
Thank you Teresa for all that you do. I have always loved following you where ever you go.
Jillian
Portland, Oregon
miss you on the adam carolla podcast AND the parent experiment!!! have been listening since the LA radio show … think you really compliment adam’s personality. i pre-ordered your book. will be following your future projects.
Hey T,
Couldn’t find anywhere else to send you this, but I thought you’d be interested in this article about the origins of Glenn Beck.
While I agree with Adam about a lot of things, I think we do need to worry about blowhards like Keith Olbermann or Beck. They poison the national atmosphere with innuendo and radicalism and don’t seem to care about nuance.
Anyway, keep up the good work! Here’s the link:
http://www.salon.com/news/feature/2009/09/21/glenn_beck/
-Chris
Hey Teresa
The winter months are fast approaching and still no sign of your 2010 Calendar!
Get to work!
JM.
x
oops 2011.. :/
T – just wanted to say I love you, and wish you good luck in your new gig……..But, also hope that have time for Adam’s podcast. The chances of me listening to the podcast is always much great when you’re on!
Hi Teresa,
If you haven’t already, I’d highly recommend reading Sandra Tsing Loh’s last book “Mother on Fire”.
I also think she’d be a great guest on The Parent Experiment as part of a discussion on how to decide which school to send your children.
I am a fan of yours on the Adam Carolla show but figured my comment would be lost in all the despicable trolling. Congratulations on the book. Just read your article about your evil step mother. It was great writing. Hard to imagine having to grow up like that.
Now the hard stuff.
Since you got Jenny McCarthy to blurb your book I was wondering what your thoughts were on her vaccination stance? Are you going to get Buster vaccinated? I know it must be exciting to be getting the exposure and the sales could get Buster in the school you want but how about the resurgence of diseases like whooping cough because people are afraid to get their kids immunized? I would really like you to look into the pseudoscience, quackery and magical thinking espoused by McCarthy and the anti vaccination community. (then I want to ask you about Dr. Phil). I hope to hear your thoughts on this.
I enjoy you on Adam’s show and I even subscribe to “The Parent Experiment” just to hear what you have to say.
Good luck with the book and the baby.
You do NOT look like a tranny, Teresa.
Hi!
Great.. I looking forward for the book.. Please inform me.. when..
Thanks..
Reading this entry made me glad to know I wasn’t the only one obsessively obsessing about the normality of things. Although, being a single parent, I would obsess about things like what going back to work at 3 months would do to my daughter, and if I would raise a psycho by being too tired after work to play with her the minute I got in the door. But, I had to work, and dinner had to get made, and eleven years later of ‘doing the best that I can’ I realize that doing the best we can is the thing that matters. If the best you can is private school, that’s a triumph. If the best you can is community run daycare, that’s also a triumph. Now that she’s as old as she is, I’m glad I didn’t have the time to think up my neurotic thoughts, and lo and behold – she’s turned out better than if I had obsessed to the level I’m capable of.
I remember when she was almost a year – wishing she would start walking. I wanted it so bad. And when she did – I cried for three days because ‘my baby is growing up so fast’ and wishing I had a few more months of her being a baby. She still is growing up too fast. And alas – I now have enough free time to neurotically think about her becoming a teenager. Those thoughts may be far worse than any I may have had when she was a baby.
That was awesome T!
Looking forward to the book.
Teresa, pass this along to Adam for how to have his little girl pee in the woods (how I do it with my daughter). Start on a a piece of land with a slite slope, actually, the steeper the better. Have his daughter on the higher side of the hill facing downhill, with Adam facing her, uphill. Pull down her pants to the very bottom. Have her put her feet on Adam’s feet. Then Adam holds both of her hands, and have her lean all the way backward, but bend her knees as deep as she can go, so she’s almost got her butt on the ground. It works.
When you have a car handy, do it this way: open the car door. Have the child stand on the edge of the door entry facing into the car. Pull her pants down as far as they go, then Adam put his hands under her armpits and pull her backwards, her knees bending like she’s sitting ont he potty. The lower he can get her, the better. Then let’er rip.
I’m still doing these methods, 10 yrs into motherhood!
Just found your blog and thank you for some smart musings on motherhood. When I was pregnant the first time I couldn’t figure out why everyone didn’t just bow down. Didn’t they know I was carrying the Most Important Baby Ever? The thing is, while our children might be average on any number of measures, we are *supposed* to think of them as the most special people in the world. That’s how we avoid the aforementioned mistake #1 of being a terrible mom. Anyhow, I am on board with not getting crazy about my child being “average” and I am not grieving that I can’t afford Montessori preschool. Still, I think there is something to being so in love with your own child that you can see the special (and even the superior?) even if no one else does. You do too, clearly, and I bet that little boy keeps on smiling!
Ah, Teresa. I can count on you for a chuckle when I need one (is it selfish of me to ask you to devote more time to this blog??). The fact that you’re even wrestling with these motherly dilemmas is a sign that everything will be alright with Buster, even if you do decide to go into debt putting him through pre-school with the super white people! My baby boy is the same age as Buster, and, though the trials and tribulations of new-motherhood may not be unique, I so appreciate you putting into words your take on the whole crazy thing. Thank you! I’m looking forward to your book!!
P.S. Since you’re into research, if you haven’t read any books by Jane Healy, you should check them out (esp. Your Child’s Growing Mind). I think you’ll find them intriguing.
What an amazing post. I, too, come from stock that values achievement, and have chased elusive happiness as a result for most of my life. I have saved this post in my files for if and when I start to put that stuff on my daughter-to-be. Thank you, I adore your writing (and am still about to pee my pants at the “insanely white people” you encountered! How true!)
Good to see you posting again!
Unrelated to your blog post (sorry), here is something you might enjoy- there’s a character actor named Stephen Tobolowsky who has a podcast where he tells interesting stories- think of it sort of like This American Life or something. It’s kind of a longform thing, but I think you’d be into it.
Don’t take any offense when I say that I think this particular episode seems to be up your alley – A Good Day at Auschwitz: http://www.slashfilm.com/2010/07/02/the-tobolowsky-files-ep-34-a-good-day-at-auschwitz/
(note that the person pictured is not the storyteller in this case, but the subject of the story).
Anyway, please take care. Love your kid and take care of him, and you’ve done 75% of the work. As someone completely unqualified, I feel like most of the remaining 25% is not being your parents, and also not going too far the other way and inflicting a different sort of neurosis.
T, this is not on topic, but a few months ago (or so) you mentioned (I am pretty sure it was you) that you followed Michael Jordan on Twitter. I started following him and told people about it because I thought it was so funny and that Mike might be a retard. Some of the things he said were insanely dumb. I just tried to go to his account and it is suspended. I Googled “Michael Jordan Twitter” and found one or two articles saying it was fake and nobody had noticed for two years. Anyway, thought you might like that.
It is so hard not to think of your children as special snowflakes. No matter how average they are you will recognize the extraordinary.
I came to terms with the realization that my boy is not a genius. He always hit his milestones at least a couple weeks behind, he’s bashful, and has a speech delay (so he will not be landing acting gigs anytime soon)…
But on top of being drop dead gorgeous he is also the kindest, gentlest, and most loving four year old I’ve ever encountered.
Teresa, you really crack me up. I over think everything as well. I don’t have kids yet, but I am already anxiously preparing for it. I evaluate my husband’s qualities to see how that would translate to any future parenting abilities. Does the fact that he doesn’t pet the cat enough mean that he is cold? Does the fact that he won’t cook for himself and will instead just eat crackers mean that he isn’t nurturing enough?
I sometimes jealously regard my friends who do everything on the fly. They make huge decisions without agonizing over them and generally everything turns out ok. They have babies, quit jobs, move around the country with less thought that I spend on creating the perfect email.
I couldn’t be any other way, and you probably couldn’t either. I hope everything turns out wonderfully for you. You are such a great writer and I can’t wait for your book.
P.S The scooting to prom on his belly sentence was golden.
oh my god! I think we are the same person…haha! You’re awesome Shayna
Since you can never get enough of research, I would recommend this book. The title is “Better Late Than Early”, and delves into the age at which a child is really ready for formal education, and the powerful affect of simply spending time with your kids. Don’t underestimate the power of your own influence on your kid(s). Don’t be so quick to get them out of the house. Those are precious days.
http://www.amazon.com/Better-Late-Than-Early-Education/dp/0883490498
BTW, according to your recent comments on the Adam Carolla podcast, I’m an “abusive” parent, because I and my wife have 7 kids. Sorry. Just because you can’t get your mind around the idea of how to care for a large number of children, don’t condemn those of us who choose to do so.
I don’t even have kids yet I find myself stalking your blog. I had a similar absentee, bummer of a mom and it really gives me great joy that you are able to rise above your upbringing and be a loving mother. It is one thing I have nightmares about, will I love my baby enough to put it first no matter what? Thank you for giving me hope. My husband and I have talked vaguely of having kids, it’s kind of a scary subject for both of us; but reading your blog really helps ease my greatest concerns. I think I want to have kids soon, but the more I think about it the more unsure and scared I am. Thank you for your brutal honesty, irony, expressive joy, and keen wit on this subject.
I know you’ve heard this before but I religiously listen to TPE and I love Lynette, but it is just not compelling or interesting without you T, you are really missed
. But I understand you can’t give yourself fully to the Ace show and then be expected to tell the same stories, or make up new ones for TPE. Lynette has a great personality and great stories, but the show needs someone who has journalism background that will really get the most out of the guests.
I have absolutely enjoyed the evolution of the Ace show though! I’ve listened since it was out of LA and the format could not be any better as of now. You really provide perfect balance to the show. Well there is my Ass Kiss Rodeo of the day, I just had to thank you for writing and let you know that your words are not only theraputic for you, they are teaching tools for me. Your words are reaching audiences that normally wouldn’t give a “mommy” the time of day. Thank you for breaking the mold!
xoxo
Candice
Wishing you the best in all you do
My mom was an absent bummer too!! We are truly kindred spirits Candice
Wandering through our unbridled joy, boredom, pride and concern is the short continuous loop that they fabricate for us from the umbilical cord in the delivery room like a karmic and a little creepy biological balloon animal. I bucked the “conventional wisdom” of the upper middle class parents I worked with who actually said things to me like – you are crazy not to worry about the preschool your child is accepted to … what do you think will happen to them when they need to go to elementary school ? Shockingly, it hit me, oh yeah – I sort of expected it involved some pencils, a backpack, a lunchbox of pb&j and room temperature juiceboxes… and a socially stigmatizing kiss on the black top before separating in tears (mostly mine). I really hadn’t considered the idea that a public school or an ordinary but loving pre-school would grease the path to skid row ??
My kids were entirely different, I had a zen buddha baby who did nothing on time and always so late that eyes were raised, who when she wound up at that dreaded school was discovered to have a 145+ IQ, and another little spider monkey who did everything early who couldn’t be more mediocre if she tried (except that she’s a consumate approval seeker and so an A student, whereas her genius older sister only used her powers for evil (she could figure out the absolute minimum requirement to pass any class and would bitterly do it – the words “will there be extra credit, never crossed her mind much less her lips”). Cesar Millan always says you don’t get the dog you want, you get the dog you need – and at the risk of incurring Mom/Dad wrath, I think the same applies to children. I was a different Mom to my girls because 5 years is an amount of time that personal transformation becomes obvious in a variety of ways.
Good installment T !
“If my child is a happy person, if his little soul is peaceful and his moods moderately mild, if he enjoys himself and seems to interact well with others – that will be his inner self enrolling in Harvard and I’ll be kvelling.”
Well said, hot mom, thanks! Keep ‘em coming!
Hi, Teresa,
My mom listens to The Adam Carolla Show and she told me how you wrote a book and went through the whole process of getting an agent. She suggested I take a look at your blog (which is hilarious, by the way). I’m 16 and I’m also an author (yet to be published). I’ve already finished my first book and I’m about half-way finished with the sequel. Unfortunately, I’m STILL trying to find an agent to represent me. I don’t need to tell you how frustrating it is to be rejected so many times. I swear, it’s like people saying your baby is ugly, am I right?? Despite my aggravation, I refuse to quit.
If you have any advice for a fellow author who is SO ready to punch agents in the face… that would be great.
I also left the link to my blog, if you’re interested.
Thanks!
this-
” The bliss, the boredom, the sense of grief for the old life, the panic over poop color and rashes, the elation over milestones, the wanting to drive away and never come back between bouts of wanting to stare at his tiny face forever, this is basically how it is. ”
is what I have been fighting with a lot lately. my son is a month older then Buster, and I a needed that “get over it, every mama is going through it” reminder. great post-your blogs rocks!
Hi Teresa,
I’ve been a big fan of the Carolla Show for a long time and wanted to send you a link to a drawing I did of you and Adam and Bryan. I hope you like it:
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SS4ASHiUPRw/TFSS3IFcBFI/AAAAAAAAAYo/qc6bWxkyMnY/s1600/AceTeam2.jpg
Thanks for putting on such a great show for all these years!
Josh
It’s so good to wake up to a bit of witty and so on-target prose from you! I’m relieved to know that you haven’t been swallowed into the great abyss of Mom’s Clubs, play dates, gymboree, and indoor playgrounds.
“…and to look into their faces expecting otherwise is to hang a photo of parental disappointment on the locker of their psyches”…how does this sh*t come to you? You have a great way with the written word
Yay!! A new blog…what a beautifully written peace and I totally understand the being happy they are happy.
Btw, Waldrof is a no go, they allow NO TV…if Buster wants to keep up with Uncle Adam, he needs to start watching Celeb Rehab and Jersey Shore before he learns all his vowels.
piece – not peace! how embarrassing.
Great piece, I always love your work. Can’t wait for your book to come out and I really miss you on TPE!
I was fine and then all that stuff about smiling and I’m a weepy mess. Buster’s Mom, you are diabolical. Lucky baby. I’m a single guy who’s a big fan. Thanks T.
Hey! Glad to see you post!
And welcome to motherhood! I swear, nothing drove me crazier than my mom saying “all I want is for you to be happy.” Until I uttered those same words to my daughter. Really, in the chaos and despite all our craziness (meaning mothers), having a happy kid is an extraordinary achievement!
tee hee hee-’ white people and super white people’. You must have been touring either Camelot Kids in Silverlake or ‘Le Lycee De Francais’ in Los Feliz. Right? It get’s even crazier when you start deciding on elementary schools..ugh, don’t get me started!
*Funny blog post, t – looking foward to your book coming out, girl!