YO MAMA: Ringing in the holidays as a new parent

OPINION

We flopped onto the couch and sat slumped over for a few minutes like a couple of sun-wizened zucchinis. It was 7 p.m. and my husband and I already had our pyjamas pants on. It was New Year’s Eve 2021 — with a baby sleeping upstairs.

Holidays were a glaring opportunity to witness just how much our lives had changed since having a child. With one day blurring into the next in the great expanse of time that is Year One, it was easy to miss all the little changes. Holidays, though, were like landmarks in time. They gave us a little distance, allowing us to compare and contrast the past with the present. We remarked upon “what a difference a year makes” when reflecting on holidays and special events like birthdays, Easter, Christmas and now, New Year’s Eve.

Christmas was… different. Amid all the excitement and busyness, there were still nap times to be met. Those ornaments baby loved to touch? They were also major choking hazards. Hors d'oeuvres could scarcely be enjoyed as my husband and I attempted to balance our plates — and everyone else’s — out of our crawling baby’s reach.

Of course, our family also sang Christmas songs for the first time in years. We couldn’t remember all the words and our voices were pretty painful, but who cared? Our son figured out how to clap along (kind of) which eclipsed all other things. I read a picture book version of A Christmas Carol to my son and felt my own cynicism for the holidays melt away in a puddle of joy. In some ways, I barely recognized myself.

Which brought us to New Year’s Eve. A night we would, in that now distant time before baby monitors and night feedings, normally go out and force ourselves to stay up until midnight. My husband and I are self-professed homebodies and have always been grumpy about going out late, but even we had some standards. We would stay up till midnight, gosh darnit.

But could we still do it? Did we really have it in us anymore? When every night features a midnight wake up, the novelty kind of wears off.

In the end, we decided to try. The baby was sleeping soundly. Instead of collapsing into a heap of laundry, we poured a glass of wine and put on a movie. Yep, pretty wild.

Roughly halfway through the movie, I succumbed to a semi-conscious state. As the credits rolled, I groped for my phone and rubbed my eyes open to check the time.

It was only 8:30 p.m. Even with a cat-nap on the couch, we’d never make it to midnight.

I crawled into bed and waited for sleep to come. My thoughts turned to New Year’s resolutions. Where once I would have vowed to ‘learn Spanish’ or ‘do yoga every damn day’ my ambitions this year had changed too. There was really only one goal: Get more sleep. On that note, we went to bed.

A couple hours later, crying blasted out from the monitor.

Outside the window, I could see colourful lights speckling the sky. The damn fireworks had woken up the dogs, which had woken up the baby. It must be midnight. I went into the nursery and scooped my son up and out of his crib.

My New Year’s resolution wasn’t going very well at all.

But as I held my baby close, right up on my shoulder in his favourite spot, I kissed his cheek. Outside, big flakes of snow fell as red and gold and silver lights exploded in the sky.

“Happy New Year,” I whispered, pecking his cheek.

So, there I was, up at midnight after all. And I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

— Charlotte Helston gave birth to her first child, a rambunctious little boy, in the spring of 2021. Yo Mama is her weekly reflection on the wild, exhilarating, beautiful, messy, awe-inspiring journey of parenthood.

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