The hardest thing about being a new mother for me?:  I keep waiting for a report card that will never come.  As a self-admitted Type-A perfectionist, I have to confess, I like to be told whether I’m doing a good job.  Perhaps, even need it. When I was a student, this meant shooting for the A+, when I was a lawyer, I had the billable hour or my bonus at the end of the year as a benchmark.  Now as a writer, I’m used to constant feedback about my work—on the Internet, in the newspaper, from reader emails.  Of course, it’s not always good, but at least I always know where I stand.  As a newly minted mom, however, I find that there is suddenly no yardstick, no way of measuring whether my hard work each day has added up to anything, and whether, as silly as it sounds, I’m mastering this whole motherhood thing.      

Sure, there are moments when it is clear I am screwing things up:  the Great Poo on the Wall debacle comes to mind, or those terrible, frightening moments, when I can’t seem to comfort my crying daughter no matter how hard I try.  And there are small victories too—figuring out how to fold up our ridiculously overpriced and complex stroller, belting the car seat into a taxi in under a minute, that first time the baby slept straight through the night.  But I realize motherhood is a long road, and in the grand scheme of things, folding a stroller (or even poo on the wall) does not a good mother (or bad mother) make.  Nor do I actually believe that when my daughter is grown, can my value-add as a mother be measured by her successes (or failures).  That sort of thinking places too much pressure on her and on me, while leaving little room for all of the other factors at work, like genetics, even fate.  And most hypocritically of all, I’m actually opposed to what I’m inherently doing by asking for some sort of measurement; I’m, in essence, treating parenthood like it’s a profession.  Children aren’t widgets, and they shouldn’t be receptacles for

Julie Buxbaum

our own hopes and dreams.

So where does that leave someone like me who thrives on feedback?  I am not sure.  When I was pregnant, I felt good when I ate correctly, got enough sleep, felt like I was taking the best care of myself that I knew how.  That easily translated into the best care for my baby.  (That it occasionally lead to a bit of neurosis over which foods to eat, how hard to work out, well, that just came with the territory.  I’m obviously used to neurotic.)  Now things are much less simple.  There is no diet to follow and no amount of baby Einstein videos or time spent reading to my daughter or hours banked at Gymboree can guarantee that I am doing things right.  Nor should they.  There is no secret alchemy to parenthood, I’m realizing.  Only love and patience.

So these days, I’m cutting myself some slack and grading on a curve.  On the patience front, I’ll be honest: I’m averaging about a B minus.  But on the love front, I’m just going to go ahead and give myself the A+.

Are you a Type-A or Type-B?  How does that affect your pregnancy and parenting style?

Julie Buxbaum is a graduate of the University or Pennsylvania and Harvard Law School.  A former corporate attorney, she wrote the best-selling books The Opposite of Love and After You. Visit www.juliebuxbaum.com for more about Julie and to purchase her books.

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Welcome guest blogger Robin Gorman Newman, founder of Motherhood Later…Than Sooner where she blogs about life in the “later” mom lane. Robin’s honesty is stunning; her story is heart-warming.  Thank you Robin for opening yourself up to us today.

I didn’t plan to become a later mom.  Life took its course.

I met my husband when I turned 30, and he was 29 .We were on a singles trip.  He had gone to SUNY Binghamton with my sister, and if I had ever visited her at college, we might have met sooner.

I’ve always been one to believe that things happen as they’re meant to.  We married two years later, and we both had active careers.  

Ultimately, I left the Public Relations firm where I was a Vice President, wrote my first book, How to Meet a Mensch in New York (mensch is a decent person), and launched a public relations practice.  The plan was to build a successful home-based business so when we had a family, I’d be around for my child.

We didn’t work on getting pregnant right away. We wanted to enjoy couplehood before parenthood.

When we decided the time was right, we experienced fertility challenges, and later went the adoption route.

Seth came into our lives in February 2003, and we are blessed to have him.  He was “born in our hearts.”

I was 42 when I earned the title of mom.   I had never dwelled on age, but, as I embarked on mommy & me activities, I often felt like the oldest mom in the playground.   Where were the other 40 something moms?  Surely I wasn’t alone.

I needed to meet peers: Others in the same raging hormonal phase of life, others who understood life in the sandwich generation (parenting a young child and caring for a senior parent), and others who had more life experience than baby experience and wanted to share the parenting experience.

I launched Motherhood Later…Than Sooner.  We started as a support group in New York and now have chapters worldwide. Through it, I’ve made some close “later” mom friends – women where age isn’t an issue but an asset.

We often talk about the upside and challenges of being a later mom.

One point of debate is patience.  I personally feel I have less, since I was my own person for a long time.  Others would say they have more because they are thrilled to make someone other than themselves the center of their universe.

There are those in society who believe it’s best to be a young mom.  You’ll be around longer for your child.  My take on that is that sickness knows no age, unfortunately.  And, later moms are often quite diligent when it comes to practicing self care.  They understand how vital it is.

Later moms have worked longer, and if they had a career and are now parenting fulltime, they might have risen further up the corporate ladder than a younger mom, and perhaps are more willing to step away because of all they achieved.  They also potentially have higher spending power, making later moms a highly desirable audience for marketers.

Later moms know themselves well.  And as a result, might not sweat the small stuff, and they have the wisdom to share that comes with age.

Later moms are HUGELY grateful.  While the circumstances vary, the road to parenthood has generally been a challenging one.   And, perhaps even a milestone they thought they might never reach.

In the end, what counts the most is the love for and from your child.  My son doesn’t care how old I am.  True love knows no age.  

Are you a later-in-life mom?  Does Robin’s story relate to you?  What’s the best thing about being a “later” mom?  What’s the hardest thing?

Robin is the author of How to Meet a Mensch in New York and How to Marry a Mensch.  She’s the founder of http://www.LoveCoach.com and http://www.MotherhoodLater.com and has been seen on The Today Show, CNN, Good Day NY, etc.  She blogs on MotherhoodLater.com about life in the “later” mom lane.

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The Top 5 Things This DAD Wishes Someone Had Told Him Before the Baby Came
by Hugh Weber

1. Parenting isn’t a situation where MacGyver or Mr. T are going to be of any assistance to you. There are no solutions to this dilemma.

Perhaps the biggest misconception that I had coming into fatherhood was that I would somehow be able to “figure out” my child. Oh, I knew there would be stages. I had heard about the terrible twos and teething, but I imagined that between these milestones I would figure the super-secret song or noise or funny face and that I would magically disarm the greatest of tantrums and tears.

This was incredibly misguided and now feels borderline stupid. Any “solution” you come up with lasts 30 minutes at most. In many cases, it only lasts about 30 seconds. Get used to it. Keep trying. Go Dad!

2. You will never again be able to make a single decision without considering the impact on your child.

Since the birth of my daughter, there have been no decisions that have been made without considering the impact on her. This is true in use of money, use of time and prioritization of life’s many scheduling conflicts. This doesn’t mean that I always make the perfect decision, but it means I consider them in light of her.

Prior to the baby, there were purchases that would be made very impulsively without a consideration of impact. Prior to the baby, I worked some long nights and extended social gatherings engaged in without a handwringing thought about a waiting meal or wife.

I can be honest in saying that even marriage didn’t have this impact on me. (My dear wife, Mrs. Dude, wasn’t terribly excited to hear this, but it is absolutely true.)

If fathers were being completely candid, I think they would have to admit that even in their actions that are less-than-fatherly they still consider the impact on the family.

3. Picture the worst possible imaginable disturbing (borderline criminal) thing that could be done to you by a child, increase it by several orders of magnitude and expect it to occur weekly.

I’m going to leave out some details here. It’s for your own good. You see, my daughter has had some digestive disorders in these first couple months that have required group participation in the process of waste excretion. I know this is vague language, but I can assure you it’s better that way.

In less eventful activities, my daughter has managed to project formula vomit into my ears. I have been covered from elbow to shoulder in a goop that most closely resembles the most incredibly foul baby poop mixed with a liquid form of death.

There is nothing sweet or adorable about this. It’s just a fact.

4. Your wife at her best will be a fundamentally different person than the woman you met on your first date. Your wife at her worst will be an infinitely more terrifying person than the monster you imagined under your bed as a child.

There is no judgment implied in this. Plain and simple, the rules have changed. Learn the rules and it will all be fine. (Editor’s note: Mrs. Dude smiled and nodded when I read her this realization.)

5. Know your limits. If you don’t know your limits, trust friends and family when they tell you that you’ve reached them.

This is not to say that we are all ticking time bombs, but I have heard too many fellow moms AND dads say through tears “This is never going to end. I am never going to sleep. I can’t handle this anymore.” to believe that I am the only one.

Speaking personally, there are times (each and every day) when parenting is completely overwhelming. You are exhausted, the baby is inconsolable and the tension between you and your wife is high. Unless you learn to recognize when you just can’t handle any more stress (emotionally, spiritually, physically), there is a high likelihood that you will put yourself in a position to do and say things that you wouldn’t normally think possible.

So step away. Take a deep breath. Call a friend. But most importantly, acknowledge that you are overwhelmed and don’t take it out on your spouse or child.

BONUS # 6: This change…this baby…represent an opportunity to change life for the better. Please, please, please take advantage of it.

I don’t care whether you’re fighting addiction, have crappy financial management skills or just need to “grow up”, this baby gives you an excuse to become a better person. It’s like a reset button in life. Focus on the future and on something other than yourself and you’ll be amazed at what’s possible. I have friends and family members who struggled with all sorts of demons. Their decisions to embrace fatherhood and become good dads have made all of the difference in their life. Take the challenge. Make a commitment. Be a great dad and an even better person! Your kid is depending on you.

Hugh Weber is the founder of the website www.dudetodad.com, conceived in 2008, where he presents a video blog, product information, links to other dad blogs and more. You can follow him on twitter @dudetodad and you can find him on Facebook. He and his wife are the parents of an adorable little girl.

Calling All Dads! What’s your top 5 list of what you wished you knew before the baby came? If you partner is expecting, what do you wish someone had told you about her pregnancy?

Ladies, what do you wish your partners knew? Here’s your chance to tell them.

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