Best Parenting Advice for New Moms

Your Instincts Aren’t Broken, Everyone Else Is Just Loud

When Jared was maybe three weeks old, everyone had an opinion about everything. “He’s crying because you’re holding him too much.” “He’s crying because you’re not holding him enough.” “You need to get him on a schedule.” “Schedules are too rigid for newborns.”

I was so confused I started keeping a notebook. Actually wrote down conflicting advice like I was studying for a test I couldn’t pass.

Then one day Jared was just… off. I couldn’t explain it. He looked fine, but something felt wrong. Everyone kept saying “new mom anxiety” but I KNEW something wasn’t right. Took him to the pediatrician anyway. Ear infection. My gut was right.

Now with Maddie, I still get advice from everyone (thanks, grocery store lady, but I didn’t ask), but I filter it through what I know about MY baby. She cluster feeds in the evenings and people keep telling me she’s “manipulating” me. Um, she’s two months old. Her manipulation skills are limited to crying and pooping.

Your instincts work. They’re not perfect, but they’re tuned specifically to your kid in ways that no book or blog post (including this one) ever will be.

“Sleep When the Baby Sleeps” Is BS

Can we please retire this advice? Please?

You know what else happens when the baby sleeps? Everything else. Dishes pile up. Laundry multiplies. You realize you haven’t eaten anything but crackers since yesterday. Your bladder is screaming at you. You just want to sit in silence for five minutes without someone needing your body for something.

With Jared, I tortured myself about this. Like, the baby’s sleeping, I should be sleeping, but I’m just sitting here staring at the wall eating cereal. Am I doing it wrong?

No. Sometimes rest looks like sleep. Sometimes it looks like a hot shower. Sometimes it looks like watching trashy TV while folding tiny clothes and pretending your life makes sense.

Do whatever you need to do during those precious moments. There’s no wrong way to rest.

Although real talk – if you’re gonna be up feeding every two hours, make yourself comfortable. That Boppy pillow thing? Get it. I spent way too many nights with a crick in my neck because I was trying to be tough. Being tough doesn’t get you extra mom points.

Every Baby Did Not Read the Same Book

Jared was pretty textbook. Ate every three hours, napped predictably, hit milestones right on schedule. I thought I’d cracked some code.

Maddie laughed at my confidence.

She eats whenever she feels like it. Her naps are suggestions at best. She’s reaching for toys earlier than Jared did but isn’t rolling over yet. She’s just… different.

For a while I was convinced I’d forgotten how to parent. Like, did I break my baby skills in the eight years between kids? Was I doing something wrong?

Nope. She’s just her own person already.

Your baby might not follow the timeline in the books. They might not respond to the same things that worked for your friend’s baby. They might be more or less social, more or less chill, more or less predictable than you expected.

That’s not a problem to solve. That’s just who they are.

Let People Help You Before You Collapse

Oh man, I was SO stubborn with Jared. My mom would come over and I’d spend the whole time proving how fine everything was. “Look! I made dinner! The laundry’s done! We’re great!”

Meanwhile I was running on three hours of sleep and hadn’t showered in four days.

What was I trying to prove? That I could do it all myself? That I didn’t need help? That I was a good mom because I was suffering in silence?

Such a waste of energy.

This time when people offer help, I say yes. My neighbor brought soup last week and I didn’t even clean the house first. My sister watched Maddie yesterday so I could take Jared to soccer without juggling a diaper bag and a screaming baby. I said thank you instead of “oh you don’t have to do that.”

People WANT to help. They remember what it was like. Let them.

You don’t get bonus points for making it harder on yourself.

Some Stuff Actually Makes Life Easier (Most Doesn’t)

The baby industry wants to sell you everything. Seventeen different swaddles, four types of bottles, gadgets you didn’t know existed for problems you didn’t know you had.

Most of it’s garbage. But some things? Life savers.

I went through like six different bottles with Jared trying to find ones that didn’t give him gas bubbles that made him scream. Turns out the Philips Avent ones just work better. Sometimes you gotta spend a little more for stuff that actually works.

Those weighted sleep sacks everyone talks about? I thought it was weird pseudo-science nonsense. But both kids sleep better in them. I don’t understand why, I don’t care why, I just know they work.

If you’re pumping, don’t cheap out on the pump itself. I started with some random one and my nipples hated me for it. Got the Spectra and it’s like night and day. Your body’s doing enough work already.

One thing that’s been amazing with both kids is having a portable diaper station. I got this mDesign caddy thing that has everything – diapers, wipes, creams, extra clothes. I can grab it and change the baby anywhere in the house. Middle of the night changes are so much easier when you’re not stumbling around looking for stuff.

But start small. Buy things when you need them, not when you think you might need them. Every baby’s different and half the stuff people swear by might not work for yours.

You Still Matter Too

This one’s hard. Really hard.

With Jared, I disappeared. Like, completely. I stopped doing anything for myself because I thought that’s what being a good mom meant. Total sacrifice. Give everything to your kid and whatever’s left over… well, there wasn’t anything left over.

I was miserable. And you know what? Miserable moms don’t make happy families.

Kids pick up on everything. When you’re running on empty, they feel it too. When you’re resentful because you haven’t done anything for yourself in months, they sense that.

Now I try to carve out little pieces of time that are just for me. Sometimes it’s taking a shower with the door locked and music playing loud enough to drown out any potential crying. Sometimes it’s calling my best friend while I fold laundry just to talk about something that isn’t baby-related. Sometimes it’s ordering my coffee exactly how I like it instead of just accepting whatever’s fastest.

It doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be something that reminds you that you’re still a whole person, not just someone’s mom.

Jared’s happier when I’m happier. It’s not rocket science.

Instagram Is Lying to Your Face

I had to delete Instagram when Jared was little because it was messing with my head. All these moms with their perfectly styled nurseries and their babies who apparently never spit up on anything.

I’m sitting there in my pajamas at 2 PM (again) with spit-up in my hair, looking at women who somehow managed to put on real clothes AND makeup while caring for a newborn, and I felt like the world’s biggest failure.

Here’s the thing though – those photos show maybe thirty seconds of someone’s day. You’re not seeing the hour-long meltdown that happened right before. You’re not seeing the pile of rejected outfits on the floor. You’re not seeing mom crying in the bathroom because she’s overwhelmed too.

Everyone’s struggling with something. Everyone has hard days. Everyone’s house is messier than their photos suggest.

Your real life doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s highlight reel.

The Perfect Moments Sneak Up on You

Last week Maddie had this epic diaper situation. I’m talking containment breach level disaster. It was on her clothes, my clothes, the changing table, somehow the wall… I don’t even know how physics allowed it.

And instead of losing my mind, I just started laughing. Because honestly, what else can you do? Jared heard me laughing and came running to see what was funny. He took one look at the scene and goes “Wow Maddie, you really went for it, huh?”

We all ended up cracking up while I cleaned everything up. It was gross and exhausting and somehow also perfect.

Those moments don’t make it onto social media, but they’re the ones that stick with you.

Nothing Lasts Forever (Thank God)

Right now it feels like you’ll never sleep through the night again. Like you’ll always be covered in mysterious stains. Like you’ll never feel like yourself again.

I remember thinking that with Jared. Like, this is it, this is my life now, I will never not be tired.

But look at him now. He makes his own breakfast. He reads chapter books. He helps with his baby sister and feels so proud of himself. Time is weird when you’re in survival mode, but it does move.

The constant feeding phase ends. The crying-for-no-reason phase ends. The feeling like you have no idea what you’re doing… okay that one might stick around, but you get more comfortable with it.

Try to notice the good stuff when it happens. The way they smell after a bath. Those tiny fingers that grab onto yours like you’re their whole world. The little sounds they make when they’re dreaming. It goes faster than you think.

You’re Not Screwing This Up

I know it feels like you are. Trust me, I know. You’re second-guessing everything. Did I feed her too much? Not enough? Why is he crying? Am I holding him wrong? Should I have started sleep training by now? Is that cry different from the other cry?

But here’s the thing – you’re here. Reading this. Caring enough to wonder if you’re doing it right. That already makes you a good mom.

Your baby doesn’t need perfect. They need you. Tired, confused, figuring-it-out-as-you-go you. And you’re giving them exactly what they need.

Some days you’ll feel like you’ve got it handled. Some days you’ll cry in your car in the Target parking lot because nothing went according to plan and you forgot to buy the one thing you actually needed. Both kinds of days are completely normal.

You’re not just taking care of a baby. You’re becoming a mom. That’s huge, life-changing work. Be patient with yourself.

Final Thoughts at 4:23 AM

Maddie’s stirring again. Jared’s alarm goes off in two hours. I should try to get some sleep, but I wanted to finish this first.

Motherhood is so weird, you guys. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done and somehow also feels like the most natural thing in the world. It’s boring and terrifying and magical, sometimes all in the same five-minute span.

You’re going to mess up sometimes. You’re going to have days where you feel like you’re failing at everything. You’re also going to have moments that are so perfect they make your heart hurt in the best way.

It’s all part of it.

Right now you might be sitting somewhere at some ungodly hour wondering if you’re cut out for this. You are. Even when it doesn’t feel like it. Especially when it doesn’t feel like it.

We’re all just making it up as we go along. The only difference is some of us have been winging it longer than others.

You’ve got this, mama.

Now go get some sleep. Or eat some cold pizza. Whatever you need right now.

xo, Sarah

PS – Seriously, the nursing pillow. Just trust me on this one.