My one good egg turned out to be one great kid. Now I’m a parent over 40, and loving it.
Thanks to my son I’m more confident than I’ve ever been–about showing my scratched-up knees in public, that is. As far as parenting exceptionally well, that’s a work in progress. But with my day job in PR for a psychiatric research institute, and my master’s in Social Work, plus an amazing little sister and great friends with kids older than my little guy, I know I’ll be just fine–my son, too, for that matter.
My blog will focus on the adventure, really, of parenting my son. Since I’ve never done this before, it should be pretty interesting–at least I hope you’ll think so. Initially, I wanted to write about travelling to Bulgaria, where I’d gone to visit my partner’s family before Yoan was born. Then, I thought why not share my experiences parenting a mixed-race child who is part Bulgarian and Jamaican and all American. Fate intervened, however, and it wasn’t too long after my son’s first international flight that I was asked to write a parenting blog with light therapy research as inspiration and, well, here we are.
Last summer, despite having just moved into our New York co-op, my partner Iordan and I bit the bullet and bought our tickets to Bulgaria. We had a nine-month old, and all of Iordan’s relatives and close friends were dying to see our son. Truthfully, I was looking forward to showing him off, time zones be damned.
Yoan had begun to sleep through the night at six months old but after we joined Iordan in Miami in July for a conference, our son’s sleep schedule got derailed.
So long to a blissful six hours of sleep per night. We were back to being bleary-eyed and grumpy. I looked like hell, and felt like it, too. The closer we got to leaving for Bulgaria, the more nervous I felt. To free up room in our suitcase, we left the white noise machine and night light at home. I’d sing to him instead: cheap and easy. On the first leg of our trip, he slept for barely an hour. Guilt hung like a pair of lead booties around my neck. more »
You know what’s annoying? You wake up to face the day aglow with the fact that you have achieved what had seemed so unattainable only a day before– parenting nirvana–and then someone says the wrong damn thing and just like that–you lose your bliss.
I remember once, on an unseasonably warm day, as Yoan played in the park attempting feats on the slide that had me biting my fingernails to bits, my mind drifted to the thought of just how lucky I was that my kid had made it past age three relatively unscathed. He never fell head-first in the toilet or mistook the peach-colored eco-friendly bathroom cleaner for juice. Our flat-screen remains where it has been for the past two years despite alarmist predictions that his out-sized curiosity would override any shred of restraint, and Yoan would drag the TV from the shelf, cover himself in innumerable boo-boos, and make us yearn for our 21 inch screen TV–you know the one that looks naked without a VCR underneath it, and no one would want, even if you were giving it away. Yep, my day was looking pretty, pretty good until she walked by me and said: “Jesus! Five minutes, honey.” Then to her friend, “He goes to sleep by 7:30 and I get so much done!” Zing! more »