Roasted veggies and sausage and Dave comes to visit

In the middle of January, my dad came to stay with us for two weeks. Our daycare, aka Our Second Mortgage That Comes Without a House, didn’t start until February. And during a Skype conversation last fall, when it appeared both my parents had had too much to drink, my mother gaily volunteered to send…

LIVE: Jenny True advice column at Romper.com! NOT A JOKE

That’s right: A terrible mistake has been made! Starting today, every two weeks Jenny True will answer all your pregnancy and parenting questions at fabulous millennial moms’ site Romper.com! Email your questions to advice@romper.com. The first column is LIVE: “I’m Pregnant and Not in Love (with My OB).” Our resident advice-giver-outer Jenny True provides shouty,…

Steamed mussels and WTF back to work

I started off Sunday morning cupping my hand so my son could vomit into it. A few minutes later, back in fine spirits, he gazed at his father in the kitchen whisking batter for crepes. “It’s a high-whisk activity,” SJ confided to him. “I like whisk-y business.” Two weeks ago, a couple days before I…

Beef stew and careening into the holidays

These are the last days of my maternity leave. The weather has turned cold, so in the predawn we turn on the heat, which makes a satisfying boom and then slowly seeps up through the floor vents and smells like a different toxin in each room. The baby has his first cold, coughing as if he’s…

Ginger fruit bowl and fuck your baby advice

SOMETHING MY HUSBAND SAID RECENTLY THAT MAYBE HE SHOULDN’T HAVE: “I feel great! I got twelve hours of sleep last night!” The Barnacle, my sweet, sweet boy, is three months old, and already he’s lived through earthquakes and some of the worst wildfires California has ever seen. His new trick is shoving both of his…

Jenny and Baby Visit Rose and Dave: Special Bonus Edition

Even though my parents were just in San Francisco to meet the baby/Barnacle, I recently took the baby/Barnacle to Evanston, Illinois, to stay with them for 10 days. While we were still in San Francisco, Mom specifically said YES YOU DID MOM YES YOU DID that the ban on writing about her — or, more…

Chicken pot pie and WTF breastfeeding

It’s been quite the transition to motherhood or, as I like to call it, Mom Eats Last. Some days it feels like SJ and I are killing it: We get enough sleep, we eat, we shower, the house gets cleaned, the bills get paid, and we leave the house and return to it, all without…

Breakfast in bed and keeping the baby alive

I’ve settled on a word for how having a baby makes me feel: peeled. If I’m not lurching from one room to another in underpants I haven’t changed in three days and a maternity bra wide open on both sides like some kind of fetish gone wrong, my post-pregnancy belly hanging out like a plastic…

Nicoise-ish salad and WTF I GAVE BIRTH

So this is what I’ve been up to: giving birth, better known as simultaneously vomiting into a bag and gushing blood and amniotic fluid out of your vagina onto a hospital bed as you lie on your side butt naked in front of your husband and a roomful of strangers. CHILDBIRTH HURTS. OH MY GOD…

Mango plum crumble and WTF 39 1/2 weeks

I’m officially on maternity leave THANK THE FUCKING LORD, and just in time: I’m having all the symptoms of end-stage pregnancy. Can’t get comfortable. Can’t sleep. Gotta pee. Gotta poo. And then I’ll get a BURST OF ENERGY and, for example, wash all the cushions on both couches and vacuum them both. Then wash all…