parenting

And Now We Are Two: Loving My Baby on His Second Birthday

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Loving My Baby on His Second Birthday (Photo: Young white boy in pajamas running out of frame)

“Up Up Up!” my younger son cries, jabbing the air with his finger. I swing him up onto my lap, resting him on my left leg. He continues to clamber up me, holding onto my shoulders. “Up Up!” he says again. I can only say, “Dude, you’re as far up as you can go!”

But that’s his personality – always up, always bigger, always faster. Like his nickname of Little Bird, he’s both tiny and longs to fly.

Even when I was pregnant, he was constantly stretching and kicking, reminding me of his presence. He came into the world in a rush, almost a month early and with a labor so short that I gave birth less than a half-hour after we left the house for the hospital.

And now he’s two.

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Reflecting on Our Past through Photographs

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Photo: Framed photograph of a white man and woman walking down stairs in wedding clothes, surrounded by people on both sides

Holding my wedding photo, I look down and see a snapshot of a moment almost 12 years ago. My hair up and my dress poofing out, I’m stepping down the church stairs, holding my husband’s hand. We’re both grinning the grins of those who are young, in love, and finally able to wake up next to the person they adore. On both sides of us, friends and family are blowing bubbles and cheering.

Back in the present day, my four-year-old is sitting next to me on the couch. He points to the person on my right. “Who is that?” he asks. I respond, “That’s my friend Drew and that’s Nana…” as I go through and identify everyone in the photo. No matter how many times I identify these people, my kids still ask. There’s a sense of magic in the ritual. It’s as if I’m evoking that day for them, allowing them to experience something they could never participate in.

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The One Piece of Parenting Advice that Has Never Failed Me

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

The One Piece of Parenting Advice that Has Never Failed Me (Photo: Young white child holding the hand of a white adult)

“I can’t ask questions?” I asked my husband, my voice squeaking at the end of the sentence. “What am I supposed to say?”

When we decided to pursue speech therapy for my older son, we didn’t know what to expect. But whatever I was imagining, reducing the number of questions I asked my child wasn’t one of them. At the time, I felt like the speech therapist took away a core tool in my parenting and communications toolbox.

But since then, I’ve realized that no matter what parenting strategy I use, there’s one piece of parenting advice that has never failed me.

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When the Reality of Parenting Doesn’t Match Your Expectations

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

When the Reality of Parenting Doesn't Match Your Expectations. (Photo: Upholstered chair with a quilt with jungle animals on it)

This story was supposed to have a sweet and happy ending.

At midnight a few nights ago, just as I was about to go to bed, I heard my younger son (who is almost two) wailing. I rushed from the kitchen to his room. He was standing up in his crib, nothing visibly wrong. “Up up,” he demanded, hands raised.

So I picked him up. I walked over to his rocking chair, nestling him in my lap. I cradled him like a baby, one arm under his head, the other across his chest. My arm anchored him to me. His body sunk into mine.

“This might be the last time I do this,” I thought. “Take it in.” “Enjoy the moment.” “It passes so fast, you know.”

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Wrestling with My Son’s Inconvenient Imagination

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Wrestling with My Son's Inconvenient Imagination. (Photo: Young white boy leaning against a statue of a dinosaur hatching from an egg)

When I hear parents say, “I don’t like playing pretend with my kids,” I think, “Oh, I love it!” But then I stop right there. I’ve realized that like all things in parenting, there’s an exception. A big exception.

That’s because I love playing pretend with my older son (nicknamed Sprout) when it’s time to actually play. Just not all of the time. He frequently doesn’t distinguish – or refuses to distinguish – when it’s time to play versus time to get stuff done. If he’s supposed to be getting ready for bed, he’d rather pretend to play drums or zoom around a roller coaster. Taking toys away is no use – the really good stuff is in his head. He can sit on the stuffed chair in his room and weave elaborate worlds out of whole cloth.

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How Becoming a Chef Turned My Husband into a Feminist Role Model

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

White man in a white chef's jacket in a classroom, holding a piece of French bread pizza

Two weeks ago, I was finally able to call my husband a chef. Looking at him in his white culinary school jacket with his name on it, I realized this situation wasn’t quite what I imagined when I watched him walk across that stage. Because instead of him being the head of a high-end fancy restaurant, he was teaching a bunch of preschoolers how to cook.

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A Letter to My Kids on the Anniversary of the Trump Presidency

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

It’s been a full year since Donald Trump became president. A full year since he stood on the National Mall and swore to “faithfully execute the office of President of the United States,” just as Barack Obama had done eight years before. Attending President Obama’s inauguration was one of the most patriotic moments of my life. Instead of attending Trump’s inauguration, I joined with half a million other women in the next day to raise our voices in protest.

Photo of a white woman in a red and gold Wonder Woman shirt and black sweatshirt looking at the camera in a selfie.

Needless to say, I entered Trump’s administration ready to fight. In my Instagram photo from that day, I’m wearing my Wonder Woman shirt, my smirk and stance challenging the camera.

But despite my attitude, I was worried. In fact, I had been worried since I blearily read the results the morning after the election. I was worried for you and even moreso for the many families less privileged than ours. As we’ve seen since then, my worries about the treatment of immigrants, LGBT folks, black people, and poor families were justified. Everything has been as bad as we expected. In some cases, it’s been worse.

And yet.

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How to Reduce Your Mom Guilt and Still Love Your Kids

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Do you suffer from mom guilt, even when you spend as much time as possible with your kids? Try out these three tactics so you can be a less stressed, more content mom. 

How to Reduce Your Mom Guilt and Still Love Your Kids. (Photo: White woman and baby sitting on a furry beanbag.)

The last time my husband and I had a date night, my eighteen-month-old (nicknamed Little Bird) roamed his grandparents’ house, looking for us in every room. He called out “Mama. Mama” in this tiny little voice.

Thanks for the stab through the heart, kid.

Mom guilt is so real. Sometimes it’s deserved, sometimes it isn’t, and sometimes it doesn’t matter because your kids love you so much that they’re distraught if you leave for a split second, much less the entire evening. Yet we’re told to “take time for ourselves” and make sure you have “me time.” Good luck being able to minimize the mom guilt and still carry out self-care.

On top of the self-care piece, mom guilt actually hurts rather than helps our parenting. If we’re constantly paralyzed by feeling inadequate, then we can’t fully appreciate the times we are present.

As the Queen of Guilt – mom and all other types – perhaps it’s ridiculous of me to write this article. But because of my tendency to run right into Guilt City, no stops ahead, I’ve had to deal with it straight-on for the sake of my mental and emotional health. Taking these steps has helped me reduce my anxiety significantly. Hopefully, they’ll help you too.

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