Zara Check Bow Dress (so cute with black leggings and this red coat)

Zara – 30% off all clothing, which is a rare deal for this retailer.

Top Picks: Panels Shirt with Pom Poms, Gingham Shirt with Bows, Contrast Frilled Dress, Pom Poms Dress, Metallic Maryjane

Janie & Jack – 30% off everything. This normally expensive retailer has some great deals today!

Top Picks: Horse Print Top, Bow Top, Peplum Vest, Sweater Cape, Petal Pink Trench Coat

Gap – 50% off everything, don’t miss their $9 sleepwear sale with code BLKFRIDAY

Top Picks: Plaid Flannel Ruffle Shirt, Tiered Long-Sleeve Top, Shimmer Bow Headband, Glitter Hi-Top Trainers, Cozy Fleece (great boy options, too!)

Old Navy – 50% off everything, a great place to stock up on basics

Top Picks: Printed Thermal Top ($5!), Pintuck Baby Doll Top, Flannel Tunic, Cowl-Neck poncho, Milk & Cookies Pajamas (Little V’s favorite!)

J.Crew – 40% off everything

Top Picks: Sequin Heart Tee, Max the Monster sweater, Sequin Tulle Skirt

Plus, Target is running a special where if you spend $50 today, you’ll get 20% off a future purchase. Time to stockpile on household goods or get a head start on Christmas shopping!

When Mr. Wonderful first suggested we spend the rest of his paternity leave going to Europe, I thought he was out of his mind. Little V was only 2 months old at the time, and the idea of hauling my sleep-deprived, half-crazed self with a baby in tow just seemed insane. I could barely get through the day by day, and he wanted to travel?!

“Fine,” he said. “You’re no fun.”

Sigh. Apparently giving birth to a baby also turned me into a party-pooping old grouch.

So I relented, though in the weeks and days leading up to the trip I was half-hoping that a minor catastrophe would happen. Just bad enough where Mr. Wonderful would have to admit cancelling the trip would be for the best, but of course not so bad that anybody got permanently hurt. I did end up with a foot injury, and Little V did pick up an ear infection (we went to urgent care two days before the trip), but Mr. Wonderful cheerily carried on with his packing. So off we went. And here are some things I learned:

Hotel vs apartment. With a baby, it seemed like renting an apartment (with an elevator! And a washing machine!) would be a no-brainer. But after staying at three different hotels and three different apartments, we learned that a couple of overnights at a familiar hotel chain is nice when you first land in a new country. After an exhausting flight, all you want to do is check-in and rest. In addition, they have more at stake when it comes to your baby’s safety and will generally provide a safe crib/pack n play for your child to sleep. We rented one apartment from a man who obviously did not have kids of his own, and though he offered to provide a crib, it looked questionable in terms of safety.

After you’ve recovered from jet lag though, renting a larger apartment or staying at a resort phu quoc is definitely more comfortable. And don’t forget the washing machine. There’s just as much baby laundry to do while traveling as you did at home!

Stay for at least 2 weeks. We read that most babies recover from jet lag in a couple of days, but it took Little V (and therefore us) about five. Mr. Wonderful and I both agreed it definitely would not have been worth it to suffer through jet lag only to pack our bags again and head home. You can visit allworld.com to find things to do in your preferred destination.

Try to stay in one place. Having a child does slow you down. Gone are the times when you can walk ten miles and squeeze in ten tourist sites a day. There’s no such thing as “grabbing a quick lunch.” Thus staying in one place meant we could take our time visiting the local attractions and not feel pressured about doing everything at once. Little V also seemed to fare better when we weren’t rushing from one city to another. If you’re looking for disabled friendly travel destinations, check out Wild Spirit Expeditions website.

Train vs car (keep it short). Though many parents told us that renting a car was the way to go, I’m not entirely convinced that’s true. We did both, and there are pros and cons to each. When Little V got fussy on Costa Verde train tours, at least we could take her out, bounce her, and distract her with outdoor scenery. Also, both parents could take shifts. With a car, we could stop whenever we wanted to (and it was nice not to drag our luggage from A to B), but after a long ride Little V would become inconsolable. Mr. Wonderful ended up speeding to our next destination, while I resorted to entertaining our seven-month old with my iPhone. Regardless of your mode of travel, knowing about car accident lawyers can be essential in case of any unforeseen incidents on the road. Contact a Rockford personal injury lawyer if you get involved in a vehicular accident caused by a negligent or reckless driver.

Injured in a car crash in Southfield, MI? The car accident lawyers from Mike Morse Injury Law Firm can help. You may also consider hiring this Southfield car injury lawyer who can provide expert legal assistance. In the end, Mr. Wonderful and I agreed that our car rides should be limited to a total of 3-4 hours a day. If you’re going camping, check out these off road camping trailers.

It’s not so bad after all. If you’re feeling apprehensive about traveling abroad with a baby, don’t! In fact, with your expectations in check, it can be a wonderful experience. I ended up being glad we went. With Little V, strangers would stop to coo and talk to us. We had many more conversations with people than we did when it had been just the two of us. It was a very different type of traveling than when Mr. Wonderful and I traveled around the world, but an enriching one nonetheless. Most importantly, we made new memories together as a family (which is the point of paternity leave, anyway!).

Have you traveled with a baby before? Would you do it again? What were some of the things you learned?

I felt exhausted but happy for the first two days after I gave birth. Then Little V started losing more weight than what the doctors considered normal. I was struggling with breastfeeding, but hey, most new moms do. Within 48 hours we had not one, not two, but three lactation consultants offer advice. Someone was always telling me something was wrong. The shape of my nipple. My baby’s latch. My baby had a tongue tie. But don’t worry, there were solutions to all these things so I could keep breastfeeding. I was constantly reminded that “breast is best.”

“I thought you just stick a baby on the boob,” said an exhausted Mr. Wonderful, who gallantly sat with me though every consultation and every feeding.

If only. It’s so natural for mama dogs and cows and horses; why couldn’t it be for me?

I pressed on. I was told to take up a breastfeeding vacation. Sit on the couch all day, watch TV (I’m not the TV watching type), and breastfeed. Have water and snacks within arm’s reach so I never had to move. I can tell you now my favorite moments in the Full House reunion but still can’t figure out why Little V could breastfeed for hours and still be crying in hunger. The only time she seemed to eat enough was when we reluctantly gave her a bottle at night.

I felt like a failure.

A lactation consultant finally told me there was nothing wrong. Not with my breasts, Little V’s tongue, or her latch. She was just a slow, inefficient eater. After they reach 4 weeks, most babies will finish a nursing session within 30 minutes. Little V would always nurse for at least an hour (sometimes two) and still be unsatisfied.

I was told to just keep at it. It would get better. And for most mothers it probably does. But I started dreading each breastfeeding session, knowing I wouldn’t be able to leave the couch for hours. I’d hold my pee until I couldn’t take it anymore, and set Little V down in her crib so I could dash to the bathroom as she screamed for more food. It was never enough.

I spent hours reading breastfeeding forums, trying to glean the threads for tips. Everything seemed to point at perseverance, that it would be worth it in the end. “I’m so glad I never gave up,” wrote one mom after another. I cried myself to sleep, berating myself for being weak.

Eventually, I resorted to a supplemental bottle feeding after every nursing session. It was the only way she seemed to get full. But the guilt and sense of failure crept in. Was I taking the easy way out? Was I giving up?

Seven weeks after delivery, I went to my OB’s office for a routine postpartum checkup. She came in and asked how I was doing. “Fine!” I chirped, figuring that was all anyone wanted to hear. She gave me a hard look. “The results of the test you just took indicate you have postpartum depression.”

I was a bit stunned. Sure, I wasn’t my normal self, but what new mother is? It’s not like I wanted to harm myself or the baby.

So we talked, my OB and I. She asked how breastfeeding was going.

“I hate breastfeeding,” I whispered hesitantly. Then with vehemence, “I HATE breastfeeding.”

There was awful relief as the words slipped out. What had I just done? Did I really just confess that I hated feeding my child? What kind of inhuman mother would actually say that? And out loud? I was half certain the OB was going to put my statement on record and call child protective services.

“Then stop,” my OB said simply. I looked at her dubiously. “But breastfeeding is better,” I countered.

“Breastfeeding is better. But not at the cost of your well-being. You need to take care of YOU. Your child needs a healthy mom more than she does breast milk.”

“Look at me,” she said gently. “I give you permission to stop breastfeeding. I think you need to hear that from someone.” I nodded and turned away, fat tears rolling down my cheeks.

At Mr. Wonderful’s suggestion, I cut down from breastfeeding all day to once in the morning and once in the evening. I would pump and bottle feed the rest. Within two days, I felt like my old self again. It’s strange how depression works. You don’t realize you were living in a fog until the grayness lifts. You just assume that you really are inadequate and unlovable, that your friends and husband can’t stand you because heck, you can’t stand yourself. And when that becomes your thinking day by day, these lies become the truth.

Even without the struggle of breastfeeding, motherhood is still hard. I’m almost always tired, and washing bottles isn’t any fun. But now there are times of joy. I know many mothers experience bonding while breastfeeding, but for me that never happened. It wasn’t until I cut back on breastfeeding that I suddenly wanted to talk, play, and share cuddles with my baby. So THIS is what motherhood is supposed to be like.

Little V is now three months. She never became an efficient breastfeeder. She still gets hungry after feeding for an hour. But I no longer beat myself up over it. I remind myself that breastfeeding is a choice. Mr. Wonderful has made me promise that if I ever find myself starting to feel resentful or upset, I’d skip a breastfeeding session and give her a bottle instead. Still, guilt flooded over me when I caved in the first few times. What was I doing? I didn’t HAVE to give her a bottle. I could technically breastfeed. Was I being selfish? Was I choosing my quality of life over what was best for her?

And then I look at Little V, her eyes crinkled as she sticks her tongue out and gives me a huge smile. She coos, as if to say, “I just need you, Mom.”

I haven’t written a post in awhile, and while the break during these last two months have been unintentional, I have started wondering about the course of this blog. What do I write about if my daily outfit nowadays consists of pajama bottoms, a Madewell tee (which is, by the way, the perfect, slouchy shirt), and an oversized cardigan?

Write about your new life right now, a friend suggested. About motherhood and the way you’re experiencing it.

It sounded so simple. And yet, I worried. Will writing about parenthood struggles and the everyday mundane feel relevant to my readers? Will people lose interest when I start talking about sleep deprivation, the challenges of breastfeeding and bloody nipples (yes, I said that), or struggling with postpartum depression? This is my life right now, but who would care?

My husband gave me my Mother’s Day gift this morning, a t-shirt that said, “World’s Okayest Mom.” It was not only a confirmation of who I am, but an affirmation that it’s ok to just be ok.

And I realized this: I never started a blog to garner lots of followers. It was always about sharing what was real and authentic to me, even if that came at a risk of being raw and off-putting. I may never have the greatest blog, just like I’ll probably never be the greatest mom. But that’s ok. As long as I stay true to me.

I hope you’ll stay around.

Last week I made a trip to the hospital, expecting to get some IV fluids after a night of vomiting/diarrhea and then head back home for some much needed rest. Instead, I ended up delivering a baby girl 14 hours later! Little V arrived 3 weeks early, with all her fingers and toes (yes, I counted).

It’s hard to believe these photos were taken just days prior, on the way to a nice dinner with Mr. Wonderful. He had bought me tulips (tulips were the first flowers he ever gave me), and we had talked about the “need-to-do” checklist we still had to go through before the baby came. Eat at our favorite Japanese restaurant one more time. Get a head start on taxes. Put up the Etsy print I ordered above Little V’s changing table.

There are moments when your life changes in an instant. Death. Suffering. Life. A baby enters your world and it is true – suddenly nothing is the same again. In 48 hours our lives have become focused on how to keep this five-to-six pounder alive, to ease the effects of jaundice, to make her poop and pee at least 10x a day, to rush her to the ER when her temperature dipped to a scary 92 degrees.

A baby comes reminding you how fragile yet miraculous life is. Looking out the car window on the ride back home, I marveled at how incredible it is that we were all given birth by somebody. How we all used to be so, so small. And survived.

Parenthood has arrived. Hopefully we’ll get our taxes done.

Nanette Lepore dress (rent it here), J.Crew statement necklace (steal), Clarks silver kitten heels (love these)