It was 2014 and we had been married less than 6 months. I taught RPM (spin) Friday nights at 5:30 and my biggest fear (I’m sure every female instructors fear!) was to start my period on the bike in the middle of teaching! Have I mentioned I over share? Anyway, around the time I was supposed to start I’d always prepare. Well this Friday I didn’t. Didn’t even think about it till I got home and thought holy moly that was lucky…wait I feel like I was supposed to start. We had plans to go out with our friend Tyler for drinks and he was at our house waiting for us to get ready to go. I thought “no big deal take a test before we go that way you can drink in peace”.
I took a pregnancy test. Two lines. I called to Pat to come to the bathroom (super weird request when you’re still trying to keep the romance alive). With a shaky voice I ask him how many lines he see’s. “Two. wait what does that mean?” Me: “umm I’m pregnant” We stand there while time stops waiting for a reaction out of us until finally Pat looks at me, “we’re…happy..right?” Me: “yes… right? aren’t we?” Pat: “yes”. After making the decision we were excited and happy about this we also agreed not to tell anyone until we were really sure! Poor Tyler sitting in our living room having no clue whats going on but strangely apart of our story.
Right away we started worrying. We got books, people bought us books, there were real books and kindle books until my eyes crossed. So much information I felt like I was drowning in reading material. Which sounded like the dream until it was happening and the information was slowly but surely choking the life out me. All of these American books were great. However, there was just so much information and all of it contradicted itself. “Attachment parenting: constantly being attached to your child and sleep with them in your bed and wear them during the day.” Then there would be a book that suggested exactly the opposite. “baby should never be in your bed. Or even allowed in your room, let them cry it out”. Well which is it?
Reminds me of the show Last Man Standing when they are talking about parenting and the mom says “No one gives you a book on how to raise a kid” and the son-in-law comes back with “there are literally thousands of book on that”. True.
Finally my sister-in-law suggested a book on French parenting. Open to any suggestion and on the verge of panicking I bought the book. Mind Blown! From the first chapter I was hooked! I couldn’t put it down and was so excited. Finally something that sounded like it fit our lifestyle. Fitting the baby into OUR life instead of turning our lives upside down to accommodate the baby. Having a frame-work of rules but then freedom within that frame for them to grow. Getting baby to sleep through the night at 4 weeks old. Sign me up!
It got to the point where I would say things and my husband would automatically come back with “we aren’t French”. But we are now sweet heart! At least we tried to be. I feel like we sleep trained the French way and it went really well. They do what they call “The Pause”. When they wake up and make noise you pause before going to get them. Give them a chance to go back to sleep on their own. Easier said than done. Especially when you are sleep deprived and wondering if its real crying or if that sound is permanently going on in your head.
Rylan is 2 years old and I learned the hard lesson of nothing ever goes as planned. So while I started with great intentions that famous quote going around rings true as ever.
“We were the best parents in the world, till we became parents”.
I don’t know who said it but they are a genius. We all think we have it figured out and know what’s going to work but the truth is we don’t. Not even close. Are we raising Rylan French? ummm depends on the day, who you ask, and how much sleep I’ve gotten in the last week. I have moments where I throw a tantrum and scream that we are going back to being French! Then I’m reminded that we are not French, we were never French and our daughter is perfectly fine. Damn that husband and his voice of reason.
That being said this parenting crap is hard and I wish each and every one of you good luck. Its kinda like the Hunger Games out there. So to all the moms that find their way here. I’m with ya! May the odds be ever in your favor!