9 Things I Learned in My First Year of Motherhood—That Are True at Any Stage of Life

It’s been a year of this parenting gig. Officially now.

In some ways, it feels like Luca has always been here. That we’ve always been washing bottles and reading board books and buckling and unbuckling the car seat.

But sometimes it feels like this all started last week, maybe just a couple days ago. There are times when I look at him and think: I’m actually entrusted with making sure you turn into a functional, capable human and that you are also caring and kind and know how to do your own laundry.

I’ve heard so much about the first year of motherhood. How it’s tiring and it’s trying and it goes by fast. So, so fast. That you’ll never be happier, but also, just wait, because it only gets harder from here. How to balance work and how to balance housework and how to balance your relationship.

Some of that advice I’ve internalized and some, like everything else, I’ve had to just experience for myself. But when I started looking back on this past year, I realized that so many of the things that I did learn—or at least, have tried to learn—are just good things to remember for life, whether it’s in the parenting context or not.

Here’s what I want to remember:

No one is exactly where you are—and that’s ok. 

My biggest wish, when I was going back to work or when I couldn’t deal with all the dishes in the sink or the unmade bed or all the things and goals and thoughts, was that there was someone I could look at—someone who was in the exact same place as me—and just do exactly what she had done. I wanted someone to hand me a very specific outline of what worked for her and I wanted to follow it step by step—from her career choices to what color she painted her kitchen. But the truth is, no one’s day-to-day life looks the same. And even though I know this, inherently, it was only in taking a step back and realizing that other people’s decisions can’t be mine, did I start to gain some perspective. What does Amy Poehler say? “Good for her! Not for me.” 

Slowing down can be a good thing. 

The whole winter after Luca was born was an exercise in slower living. We weren’t running from this to that or making plans that filled up entire weekends. Truthfully, a trip to Target was basically the best thing ever—which is not how I’ve always been. Things have definitely picked up since then, sometimes too much even, but there are times when I’m sitting on the living room floor on a Sunday morning and remind myself that if all the grand plans for the day aren’t met, the world won’t come to stand still.

Get in on the group chat. 

Because who else can you message at 3 a.m. after a breastfeeding breakdown—and actually get an answer? Or exchange 867 photos with—and know they’re actually being looked at? The group chat kept me sane and made me feel less alone and was a way to stay connected to people who knew me when I was a 14 year old with a questionable blonde streak in her hair.

You’re still you, no matter what. 

I danced in a small-town bar until 2am. I sat on the beach at midnight eating smores around a bonfire. I had drinks on a rooftop in the middle of the summer. I went to kickboxing and read books in the backyard and hung out with my husband. It’s so easy to get swept up in all the new-ness, in all the must-do’s and have-to’s and the guilt, the ridiculous amounts of guilt. Sometimes it’s good to go back to the basics and back to the beginning. To do the things that make you, you.     

Guilt is almost never, ever worth it. 

Speaking of the ridiculous amounts of guilt, it was there in spades this first year. Whether it’s about going to work or not making organic purees from scratch or letting your kid your sleep in your bed cause you’re just so tired, everything you ever read or see or happen to overhear in an elevator somewhere will make you feel like your decisions are wrong, wrong, wrong. Whatever. Life isn’t static and, wait, what was that first point about ‘no one being where you are,’ again?   

Everything is a phase. 

This applies equally to baby-related things and life-related things. The guilt I felt over not making my own purees was huge. Huge. And seriously, he ate purees for like, 2 whole months before deciding he’d much rather eat real food, teeth or no teeth. If I had known how short a period of time it was going to be, I definitely wouldn’t have stressed about it so much. Same goes for just general life things. I can get so myopic and think things are always going to be one way forever and ever that I forget that really, it’s pretty much the opposite.

Accept help. 

That whole ‘it takes a village’ advice? So so so true. I cannot express the amount of true-ness in it. I’ve always been surrounded by lots of family, so the idea that people help each other out was nothing new. But I know not everyone feels this way. And oh how short sighted that is. Our parents, our siblings, our extended family, our friends—they were there for us this year in such a monumental way. I am more thankful for this than I could ever wrap my head around.  

Write it down. 

Even if it’s just on a scrap of paper that you stick in a notebook somewhere and don’t find for five or six years. Even if it’s just a note on your phone or a caption on Instagram. It doesn’t have to be some scrapbooked piece of art that you frame and hang over your bed, it just has to be somewhere. 

Trust your gut. 

I’m going to get this tattooed somewhere super visible and make myself read it, mantra-style, every morning. It’s the tried and true lesson. When all the anxiety and the worry and the fear is taken away, it’s just that feeling. Always. Listen. To. That. Feeling.

And that was just the first year. I wonder what year two will have in store.

What did you learn your first year of parenthood? What are the life lessons you stick to no matter what?

Interesting and Inspiring

Here, a rotating roster of interesting and inspiring reads and finds and thoughts: 

I'm filing this away under must-do with Luca in a couple of years.


I don't know what I like better: Actually watching Scandal or reading Pheobe Robinson's recaps. This is from last week's episode but come on. I could read this all day: 

Mellie went in hard. Like when you get summer-reading assignments in high school, but you spent the 11.9 weeks of summer straight chilling, so you have to binge-read Beowulf, Animal Farm, and Machiavelli's The Prince the night before school starts. Mellie. Went. In. She then broke Fitz the hell down like an improper fraction and let him know how much she has given up for his sorry, trifling life.

Feel like watching an Italian movie? Here's where to find them. (L'ultimo Bacio is my Italian version of Dirty Dancing...I could watch it over and over.)

Are you a Millennial Mom too?


Local Westchester commuters, where to eat on the Harlem Line

How good does this look?

I listened to this podcast on my walk with Luca the other day and now I basically want to make a green smoothie every morning.

[photo via unsplash] 

Happy 1st Birthday, Luca!

We were busy celebrating all weekend, but I wanted to stop in and wish my favorite little dude a happiest of first birthdays. 

On Thursday—his actual birthday—I took the day off from work. We started out by surprising him with a bunch of balloons. I didn't think he'd actually understand what was going on, and I still don't know that he totally did, but he loved those balloons. And he smiled anytime he saw them for the rest of the day. 

After breakfast we picked up my cousin and went to storytime at a local library. I know I've said it before, but I wish they did these on the weekends too. 

The three of us went to brunch at Cooked and Co—it's been open a few years already but if you're local and haven't been, definitely go. The unfortunately named "I'm on a diet wrap" is awesome. (As are the Nutella banana muffins.) 

We had to run a few errands before coming home and ordering pizza. Actually, another local to-try: Il Forno, which opened a couple months ago in White Plains. They don't have a website it seems, but their pizza was so good and, since it's basically a market, they have tons of Italian stuff like (my favorite) Mulino Bianco cookies. 

Our parents and siblings came over for cake and to open a few presents. We ended up just getting a Carvel ice cream cake because, I mean, #birthdaytraditions, but I had no idea that the blue icing literally stains. Luca went to town and got it on his hands and then all over his face (that might have been my fault), but I had to scrub it all off. Oh well, it was totally worth it. 

We have a few more festivities planned and, as you can imagine, I have so much to say about this first year of motherhood. More on that later.   

Ten and Eleven Months

At 10 months, Luca:

• Weighs...more than 18 lbs? We haven't been for an official check-up, so I'm not totally sure. Now, at just a few days short of a year, I would estimate he's somewhere around the 23-24 lb mark. 
• Eats everything. This month was huge and he now gets 3 actual meals a day, with no bottle afterward. He eats it all: pasta, chicken, vegetables, hummus, guacamole, pastina, puffs—and all without teeth. 
• On that note, he loves food more than anyone. He's always so curious about what everyone is eating.
• Still has no teeth. (Even my dentist seemed a little shocked when I told him!) 
• Pull himself up on everything: the couch, the coffee table, chairs 
• Takes everything out of the cabinets. He particularly loves the one with all the pots and pans and another that houses all his puffs, baby food pouches etc. 
• Crawls all over the place. There's a video of him from early July where was just getting the hang of it, but now he's all over the place.
• Loves peek-a-boo. He has a little play area on the side of the couch, and the curtains in the living room come down on it a bit and he'll now go behind them and play peek-a-boo with us. It keeps him entertained forever. 
• Opens books and flips through the pages.  
• Is still super good-natured. He laughs easily and smiles a ton.
• Cries sometimes when I leave in the morning. Really it just happened after vacation, which makes sense, since he was with me for 9 days straight. But if HE's the one leaving though, he could care less.  
• Love love loved the water at the beach. He'd laugh when he splashed water in his face and cry when we pulled him out. 
• Climbs the stairs, but hasn't figured out how to get down yet.
• Is super curious is about everything. 
• Is quick to get frustrated if things don't happen fast enough 
• Has an hour right before he goes to bed that's my very favorite: he's fed and clean and we'll play on the floor or on the bed and he's so engaged and giggly and it's the most fun ever. All day is worth it for that one hour. 
• Ten months also marked the end of the "lying down" monthly pictures—he wouldn't do it, as hard as we tried. So sitting up it is. 

At 10 months, I:

• Can't believe how much has changed with Luca over the past month. I don't know why, but it seems like he made the biggest leaps—the most noticeable ones, is probably a better way to put it. My little baby who was content to cuddle on the couch now just wants to be free to crawl around and explore. He's so curious about everything. He'll perk up when he hears the door opening and he always wants to know whats going on. He's a total social baby and I admit that i really love that about him. 
• Spent Luca's 10 month birthday in Montauk for my sister-in-law's bachelorette party, sleeping till 9 and lying by the water all day, before eating dinner in a trendy restaurant with my hair done and ending it with a bonfire on the beach. It was so fun and i loved every minute of it. It's funny because I went to my other sister-in-law's bachelorette party in the middle of may— basically the start of the summer—and it felt so different to leave him then. At that point it was really the first time I had been away from him for a night and I was a little sad to go, but it also made me, in a good way, remember a little more about who I was. This time, I was looking forward to it—to eating without having to cut up someone elses's food and to sleep past 630. I missed him, of course, and I'm sure i talked about him too much, but it was nice. It's nice to be me still. 
• Am liking working. Being a full time working parent is no joke and it's a constant adjustment and it's a constant wonder and worry, I think. But I think I've realized that being a full time, stay at home parent is not for me at the moment. Maybe one day it will be, because you never know and you can never say never and all that. But right now, in this moment, this is ok. 
• Had a devastating loss at work recently, and it has made me question so many things. Not question so much as double check. To take inventory of my life and say: Yes, this is working or no, this isn't. To cut myself some slack for not living on green juice and hot yoga, but also to know that this is the only life and it's now or never. We don't get a second chance or any of that. It has put so much into perspective. 
• Think this summer was one of the best. One of my most favorite, hands down. But I am so looking forward to fall, too.

At 11 months, Luca: 

• Is still eating everything—and loving every minute of it. Aside from honey and milk, we basically give him whatever we're eating. He's had pulled pork and burgers, gnocchi with pesto sauce, spaghetti sqaush, lots of meatballs and let's be real, ice cream, cake and, at least once, the inside of a cannoli too. 
• Says mama and dada. He did this awhile ago actually, but I don't think I wrote it anywhere. 
• Crawls everywhere and can easily get up and down. When we're home, he has free roam of the kitchen, dining room and living room, which is all open. 
• Can go up the stairs, and is just learning the whole "turn around' party about coming down. 
• Cruises around all the furniture
• Is obsessed with pushing the buttons on the DVD player. Thankfully, we never actually use it. 
• Puts his arms up so you'll pick him up and points to things he wants.
• Had his first haircut 
• Took his first steps! (It was 10/24, to be specific) 
• Still has no teeth (Seriously.)
• Was a ring bearer for the first time. And he slept the entire way down the aisle, while I carried him. It was always the plan for me to carry him, but we assumed he'd be awake for it. 
• Is wearing size 18 months clothes. I don't know why I didn't record this sooner but, I'm just surprised he's wearing this size. 
• Went pumpkin picking for the first time, saw horses and goats and chicken for the first time and ate--lucky him--apple cider donuts for the first time. We're way into fall over here.  
• Is dressing up as a tiger for Halloween    

At 11 months, I: 

• Wonder sometimes how long our little routine will last. In the mornings, I wake up with Luca and make him a bottle and then make myself breakfast. He sits in the corner of the couch and I'm next to him as we "eat" together. Where normally mornings are so chaotic and consist of me trying to do my hair without Luca lunging for the straightner, this part is just such a nice way to start things off. 
• Am thinking alot about Luca's socialization. A ton of John's family was in from Italy for my sister-in-law's wedding in early October and our cousin's daughter, who is 4, was among them. She and Luca became fast friends and it was so eye-opening for me to see him interact with her. While my friends have little kids, no one in our immediate family has under-5 year olds, so Luca doesn't really get that interaction with kids his own age on a daily basis. This is where, to be honest, I wish there were more library or other programs either in the later afternoon or on the weekends—as a working parent, I can't go at 11am, but I would love to go on a Sunday morning. I did find one that I'm hoping to start with him in January. I also started looking at 2's programs at some local nursery schools for next year. 
• Had such a good time with John's family from Italy. They stayed with my in-laws, but we were there almost every day and they're just all so welcoming and honestly, have always made me feel like such a party of their family. Plus, it really just makes me miss Italy like nothing else. 
• Think so much about the work-life balance. Does everyone? Am I the only one who asks everyone how they do it, why they decided what they decided, etc. etc. I just find the whole topic so so fascinating. But that being said, I also know I can't focus on it so much. So much so that I lose sight of things as they are. I actually want to write a whole separate post about all that. 
• Am in the midst of planning Luca's first birthday party, which has an "our little pumpkin" theme. 
• Have been taking Luca on walks in the afternoon and listening to podcasts while I do it. I don't know why I've just gotten on this bandwagon now but, they're all pretty great. 
• Cannot even believe that Luca turns a year old in a few days. There's so much to say about it and then really not all that much that hasn't been said already. Mostly, I keep thinking back to this time last year and it's just so much. It was such a hard time for me on so many levels and I'm so glad that we're here, with a happy almost-1-year old. 

Thoughts on Writing Right Now

I’m reading the book BigMagic by Elizabeth Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love fame. I picked it up a couple weeks ago when I stopped by Barnes and Noble to take an hour to write and read magazines and otherwise sit and spend some time with myself, as I’m known to do in that store and many a library.

The book centers around creativity and its importance in our lives. I’m only about halfway through but it talks a lot about fear and about how you really have to just choose and then enjoy the things that feed that creative part of yourself.

I also happened to listen to the first episode of the accompanying podcast while I took the baby for a walk the other day. A few things about it in particular hit home, namely that procrastination is just fear, which is so so true for me.

But anyway, creativity and creative outlets and what works for me and what I want it all to look like have been on my mind lately.

I may not blog here super regularly at the moment, but I’ve been blogging, in some form or another for years. (Actually 2001 to be exact, if we’re counting my Live Journal with the awful black background and white type.) As a writer, the idea of expressing myself in a place where people can read what I’m thinking and feeling, in a way that helps me process what I’m thinking and feeling, is gold. I love it, truly. I’ve written about personal stuff, but also about other things, like local jewelry and being Italian and episodes of Lost.

People talk so much about how blogging has changed and that it isn’t what it used to be and it’s dead and what’s the point and on and on. And that’s probably true. But here’s what I know is also true, for me: I still value good, true writing above all else. The kind where the person talks about what they’re feeling or seeing or whatever small, seemingly mundane thing they’re going through. 

Maybe that small, mundane thing isn’t important to anyone else. But maybe it is. Maybe it’s exactly what someone needs to read on a Monday morning after a Sunday night breakdown because it’s hard to be all the kinds of people you want to be at the same time.

I can admittedly say that I’ve wanted to come back to this space, to writing regularly, for awhile. I’m needing and wanting an outlet right now—especially as I figure out this new season I’m in, with all the clichés that come along with it. But I’ve held back because I wonder: Is it too different? Am I too different? Am I stuck in 2009, when I could post quotes and inspirational photos, back when there was no Pinterest or Instagram?

And then I think: Who cares? Honestly, though, who cares? What if I just put out there exactly what I want to put out there, and then see what happens? We carve out and create the spaces that surround us. Without the shoulds and the have tos. That, I’ve realized, is as true in life as it is in writing.

[photo via unsplash]

Luca’s First Haircut

My sister-in-law gets married on Saturday and we’re in total wedding prep mode over here. I’ve got lists of things to get done before Friday—including, randomly, to buy an iron—and we’ve spent the last week hanging out with a whole bunch of Italian family who are in town.

John and I are both in the wedding party and Luca is the “ring bearer.” I put it in quotes because he can neither walk down the aisle nor be entrusted to carry any actual rings, but he’s got his tux + Converse sneakers combo ready to go and so naturally, needed to trim down his messy hair to match.

One of my close friends recommended we go to Magic Cut forKids in New Rochelle and ask for Raquel. Are you in Westchester? Because I’m recommending the same.

The place was small and clean and totally set up for kids: Ratatouille playing, Elmo peeking his head out from behind the TV and a colorful xylophone at the ready for when the fidgeting started. Raquel was quick and professional and the cut cost $25.

Luca did pretty well, if I can get all proud-mom on the situation. He’s way not into sitting still these days, but he was so distracted by everything around him that by the time he started wanting to move around, it was all over anyway.

Here’s some photos, just to commemorate the milestone:

(He is totally laughing here, I swear.) 

After! 

Post-Summer Reading

Tomorrow is officially the first day of fall. I wore jeans all weekend, even though it hit 80 degrees both days, and I bought pumpkin at the supermarket because clichés are clichés for a reason and sometimes, I’m happy to take part.

All this to say that we’ve got one more day to talk about summer reading. Not the making lists of vacation reads kind, but the in-summary kind. I read this post awhile back, and I love how they all listed both what they were reading and what they're favorites were. It immediately got me thinking about some of my own favorite books I've read over past summers. Books that, even though they weren't highbrow or by some little-known author, just meant so much to me, especially in retrospect. Especially as September hit and I was back home, or back at school, or back to real life, whatever that entailed at the time.

The Babysitter’s Club series. I don’t think there’s a 90s kid around that didn’t devour these, and I was no exception. I remember, in particular, being 9 years old and going to Italy for the second time with just my grandparents and having maybe 9 or 10 of the books with me. They were stacked high on my white nightstand—one was for sure a “super special”—and even though I loved hanging out with my cousins, and even though I was happy to be there, those books were this small tie to home, which I felt like I had left, for the first time. I think I finished them all about halfway through the 6-week trip, though by that time, I didn’t need them as much. Even now, as an adult, whenever I’m in Italy and go in to that bedroom, I’m convinced one will have been left behind, fallen behind that nightstand or kicked, haphazardly, under the bed for me to find.

On the Road. The timing was so right for me when I read this book. It was the summer after my freshman year of college and I felt so wide open. I was working at Banana Republic, spending afternoons at the beach with my high school friends and going on first-time road trips with my college friends. I would read in the mornings, lying in a bathing suit in my parents’ backyard. It was that one, rare summer before internships and full time jobs, where we were all home and everything felt new and old at the same time. My copy is worn out, with lots of sentences underlined and starred. I was convinced I knew much more than I actually did and that I could do everything, always. Life was free and an adventure and I wanted all of it. It’s all rose-colored now, so many years later, but I think, really, that’s just the way it’s supposed to be.

White Teeth. The memories of this book are so specific. I had just finished my study abroad program and picked this up in the English-language section of a bookstore in Padova, where I living, before taking the train to Rome to wrap up my final week of an internship and then ultimately make it down to my grandparents house in Calabria. The whole month of July that I spent there was different that year—things were quieter, slower. I was different. I hadn’t been home in six months and even though I had old boyfriends and future jobs on my mind, time felt suspended. I would flop down on my grandmother’s couch in the living room and read, mostly in the mornings or in the early afternoon. It was cooler there than in any other part of the house. I felt much more sure of myself, much more safe in myself. I got a tattoo and I drank too much wine and I texted on a small grey cell phone with clumsy keys. Sometimes I’d fall asleep reading and sometimes I’d just sit and underline. There's one in particular that stands out, even now: “She was living her young life in capitals.” That’s what it felt like, and I was sure it would never be any different.  

Lean In. Everyone read this book that summer, and so did I. It wound up being the summer before I was pregnant with Luca, though we didn’t know that at the time. I don’t think I’d ever given too much thought to whether I would work or not after I had a baby because I always assumed I would. What I did was so wrapped up in who I was. There were points in the book I agreed with, that I hadn’t really thought about, and points that left me with an “eh, ok, I get it.” kind of feeling—probably like everyone else, too. But I do remember frantically, feverishly almost, explaining it all to John—I could do all of it, and we could do all of it—and just wanting him to get it, to understand. Fast-forward just a year later and everything had changed and a year after that and I’m in it. I don’t go back and reference any particular parts of this book, and maybe more than the actual words, it was just the feeling that I got from it that has stuck with me. That on those days when I go to work with just mascara on, or I can’t find my office key or the baby spends all day in his pajamas, that actually, really, I can—and we can—do all of it.

This summer, while we were on vacation, I read Girl on the Train, which was exactly what I wanted it to be—engrossing, recommended. Maybe 5 or 10 or 15 years from now I’ll remember it, and see myself in the side yard of that first beach house we rented, reading while Luca napped in the stroller next to me. It’ll be in good company, at the very least.