Yesterday was the Littlest Brewster’s 9 month check up (insane, I know).
And the DreadBrewer accompanied us, per usual. He hasn’t missed a check up yet, good man.
After the visit, we compared notes and observations and I was amazed at the differences in how we perceived the doctor’s advice and recommendations.
I ask: “How much formula and how often? She gets 3 meals a day (at 8, 12, and 5) and 4 bottles (at 5:30, 10, 3, and 6:30).”
Dr’s reply (per DB): “I would start putting her bottles with her meals and only offer her water and light snacks in between.”
Dr’s reply (per me): “Oh my god, you are feeding her way too much!!! Do you want your daughter to be fat all her life?!?! Seriously, cut down on the formula.”
I ask: “Sometimes she wakes up at 3 instead of 5:30 and the only thing that will get her back to sleep is a bottle. Do you recommend that we let her cry it out or is okay to feed her?”
Dr’s reply (per DB): “I would recommend you don’t feed her in the middle of the night. It’s creating a habit that can be hard to break.”
Dr’s reply (per me): “You can’t get her back to sleep without a bottle? What are you, shitty parents?!?!”
Needless to say, I almost cried on the way home because I felt like a terrible mother after we left.
I will point out – I love our doctor and seriously doubt that my perceptions were the accurate ones of the bunch.
But, the pressure on parents in general, and moms in particular, to be absolutely perfect is mind-boggling. And I know that we, as moms, are our own worst enemies and harshest critics. And I am pretty quick to find criticism (be it real or imagined) regarding issues on which I am doubting myself. Heck, I can find criticism on issues that I think I kick ass on – it’s a skill I have.
I need to try to take a page out of the DreadBrewers book and be more confident in my parenting skills. After all, the Littlest Brewster isn’t starving (obviously), she isn’t diseased or demented or neglected – so we must be doing something right.