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At BabyShrink, we are inclined to believe Stefanie Wilder-Taylor is the long, lost lovechild of Erma Bombeck and Carol Burnett. How else to explain Stefanie’s sharp wit, stunning honesty and widespread public appeal? She is the author of two hilarious books: Sippy Cups are Not for Chardonnay: And Other Things I Had to Learn as a New Mom, and her second salvo, Naptime is the New Happy Hour: And Other Ways Toddlers Turn Your Life Upside Down, which will be released this Tuesday, March 25.

Stefanie will be on the Today Show that day promoting it. It will be her fifth appearance on the show as a parent/humorist/author.

We happen to love Stefanie. We read her blog, Baby On Bored, where she writes about her three daughters (including four-month-old twins!), her experience with postpartum depression, and about life in general, with the superior brand of humor that has also served well in her stand-up comedy pursuits.

We are naturally thrilled that Stefanie agreed to be the subject of the second BabyShrink Interview.

BabyShrink: Why did you start Baby On Bored?

Stefanie Wilder-Taylor: About three years ago, a few months after the birth of my daughter, Elby, I decided to start a blog since I was a writer who was unemployed due to HAVING A BABY. I’d been told how absolutely wonderful it was going to be to become a mother and had been looking forward to "the blessed event" for nine months. But I was in for a rude awakening. Not only did I have horrendous postpartum depression and not know what it was, but I felt unbonded to my baby, overwhelmed, full of regret and ripped off that I’d been sold a bill of goods that didn’t live up to the

{Photo courtesy of Alex Asher Sears Photo, Los Angeles}

expectation.

BS:  You don’t sugarcoat what it’s like to be a mom, and you’ve been very successful in being honest and funny about that.

SWT:  My first book deal came from my blog being seen by an agent and sold pretty straight away. I couldn’t believe that anyone would be interested in my decidedly unromantic take on the early days of my parenting experience but they were. Since the book received such a great response, I’ve found it’s my calling to be honest about everything. I’m feeling safe in the knowledge that others out there feel the same way.

BS: Tell me about your parenting approach.

SWT: Of course, the bonding did take place with my daughter and I love her in an obsessive, crazy, stalker, "mommyish" way. But I refuse to believe that there is one specific way to parent. I do believe that one should treat each child as an individual and parent that individual to the best of our abilities. Yes, you are a parent and you have to suck it up and make sacrifices. But I don’t think you have to live your entire existence thinking of ways to enrich their little minds and ensure they will get into an Ivy League school. Hey, I didn’t even go to college and things worked out okay.

I also believe that all parents lie, so you can’t compare your parenting to what others say. They all let their kids watch TV (otherwise how would you take a shower?). They all let their kids eat cookies (unless they’re completely crazy and controlling), and they all lose their temper once in awhile. It’s reassuring to say the least.

I must also say, I’m in praise of praise! The more the better as far as I’m concerned — this is in response to some articles saying parents overpraise their kids these days.

BS:  You had twin girls four months ago. Knowing you were prone to postpartum depression (PPD), how did you approach this pregnancy differently?

SWT: I did plan to go back on Zoloft the second I gave birth. When I found out my babies were coming early, I wasn’t so sure I would take the meds so fast because I knew I would be trying to pump as much as possible. But, my doctor was fairly insistent that the Zoloft wouldn’t affect my milk enough to warrant possible PPD, so I went ahead and started it. I still pumped for a month while the babies were in the NICU and even the nurses there told me the Zoloft wasn’t a problem.

BS: Has it been different this time?

SWT: It’s been different, yes. My PPD didn’t get nearly as bad in part from the anti-depressant and in part because I knew what I was in for as far as sleep deprivation. The first time around I was paranoid that my horrible attitude would chase my poor husband screaming into the arms of another woman or even another house. But this time, we knew it was just divide and conquer — make it through the first few months and things will get better.  This pregnancy I didn’t mess around and I’m so glad I went back on the medication immediately. With twins, I seriously wouldn’t have had time to be moping around the house all day.

BS:  Did your preparations and advance knowledge help?

SWT: Yes and no. Of course it helps to know that you’ve had another baby and survived it. But, part of PPD is chemical and that can’t be solved by knowing about it in advance. For me, that required meds — pure and simple, and I refuse to feel weak because I need a little something to get me through. Hell, I need meds with or without a baby or three.

BS: Did the twins being preemies and in the NICU make things more complicated, in terms of how you were feeling and recovering? 

SWT: On one hand, I think having the babies be in the NICU made it easier. I knew they were okay and I had a chance to recover from my C-section and fix up the house before they came home. On the other hand, the fact that I went on hospital bedrest and had these babies much sooner than I thought I would, combined with hearing there was a major growth problem with one of the babies, caused an enormous amount of stress. Even though it’s all over, the babies are safe and home and we have help, I realize I’m still recovering from that stress. And it will probably be awhile until things are back to normal.

BS: What can you say to the other moms out there who might also be prone to PPD but are afraid of reaching out to ask for help?

SWT: When I had my first baby, Elby, I thought I was crazy because I was crying inconsolably all day everyday. I felt ashamed that I didn’t feel connected to my child and that instead of feeling blissful I just felt sad and, to be honest, angry. But when, due to my inability to censor myself, I told my doctor exactly what I was feeling, he blew me off and said that "having a baby is a big responsibility" and to basically suck it up. So, not knowing better, I did. It took me 14 months to get the help I needed. It wasn’t until after my daughter was hospitalized for dehydration that I realized I’d felt stressed for months and needed help. I went to a shrink and was put on Zoloft and I suddenly realized that I hadn’t felt normal since my daughter was born. It was like a window opened. Hey, if you’re against pills and think maybe yoga or aromatherapy is going to make a difference for you than by all means do Downward Facing Dog or get a Glade Plug-In. But if you really want to fight fire with fire, I say GET HELP.

To read more of Stefanie’s thoughts, buy her books (linked above) and visit her blog at babyonbored.blogspot.com

BabyShrink.com is thrilled to bring you our interview with Danny Evans (better known to the world by his super-hot blog, Dad Gone Mad), my good friend of 15 years.

Since 2003, Dad Gone Mad has offered a colorful glimpse into bona fide, in-the-trenches fatherhood. With sharp wit and a healthy sense of self-deprecation, Danny plods through the havoc and collateral damage wrought by his two young children. Danny lives in Southern California and is currently writing his first book.

Danny has a lot to say to parents, and especially dads. Becoming a good dad, or at least a “good-enough” dad, isn’t easy. But despite facing the challenges and demons that many of us share, he’s got Hot Wife (one of my best friends) their terrific kids, and a career that is certain to skyrocket beyond even his current success. Danny and I recently spoke about becoming a father, learning lessons from our own
parents, and depression.

BabyShrink: Let’s start at the very beginning. Why did you start writing Dad Gone Mad?

Danny Evans: Dad Gone Mad was the lovechild of
misery and self-preservation. In 2004 I was working for one of those
enormous, Fortune 100 HMOs that everyone thinks so poorly of because
their focus in revenue, not health. I hated it. I was a nameless,
spiritless corporate drone and I frankly needed to distract myself from
those feelings. So I just started writing. About my life, my kids, my
marriage, my bowel movements and on and on. Somehow that struck a nerve
with people and the site has become what it is now because of their
support.

BS: How did becoming a father change you? 

DE: It changed everything. Beyond the obvious chaos
inflicted on one’s life by a wailing eight-pound shit machine, it
thrust me into a period of hardcore self-reflection about my life, my
choices, my general readiness to be someone’s dad. I always wanted to
be a father, but the moment I became one I wondered if I had what it
took to develop this little mass of pink skin and cradle cap into a
respectable, confident and driven human being. He forced me to think
about the world and the future from the point of view of someone other
than myself. That’s an enormous change.

BS: So, you didn’t just start out as a confident father?
There were times when you doubted yourself and your ability to be a
“good enough” dad?

DE: I don’t think it’s hard for guys to believe
they’ll be great dads when the child is just a concept. A fetus. A lot
of us are so hard-headed and macho that we think we can do anything if
we just decide to do it. We’ll run through a brick wall if we have to.

But we’re not a particularly emotional bunch, so I tended to believe that being a good dad simply mean warming up a bottle and installing the car seat and, when the child was old enough, teaching it to burp the national anthem.

That all disintegrates when the concept becomes an actual human
life. I was intellectually prepared, but the boatload of emotional and
spiritual ramifications that accompany such a drastic change in one’s
life can be a bit overwhelming. It brought to the surface issues about
my relationship with my own dad, my own aspirations in life, my own
priorities and learning to live with the all-consuming love I had for
this child. Like I said, it changes everything.

BS: So how did you get past the point where
all your self-confidence about being a dad started to disintegrate? How
did you build a real, not just intellectual, sense of confidence about
being a father?

DE: I think it’s more a function of time than
effort. As our son grew older and became more interactive, the bond
between us began to solidify. He became human, as opposed to just this
crying, screaming, pooping blob of skin. But I want to be clear on the
difference between connection and bonding. I was connected to him and
completely in love with him before he was even born. But like I said, I
didn’t know what to DO about him. The connection came when things like
eye contact and smiles and whatnot began to develop. Perhaps it’s a bit
selfish to say I needed something back from him before I could feel
that bond, but no one ever told me fatherhood was easy.

BS: What do you think society expects in
terms of being a “good dad”? How are you different than the way your
father was when you were growing up?

DE: I don’t know — or care, frankly — what society
expects. I know there are certain standards by which people are judged,
and by which their children are judged as well, but the bottom line for
me is doing what I feel is right for my kids. That’s not meant as a
cop-out or a cliché or as a sign that I think I’m better than other
dads — because I certainly do not. But they’re growing up in a much
more threatening time than I did and it scares me on their behalf. So I
expect that I will do not what is popular, not what the dads on Disney Channel
do, but what is right for my kids in their worlds. That’s a big enough
challenge, let alone trying to fit into some giant cultural cookie
cutter.

I think the father question touches on the most important issue in my
life. My dad grew up in an environment where he wasn’t valued or shown
love, and that certainly colored the way he fathered my sister and me.
My dad and I butted heads a lot, and I always had a feeling that I was
being controlled. I can understand that; having no control in his
youth, he wanted to have all of it in his adult life. I see the
opposite developing in my conversations with my own kids, and the challenge is finding that delicate balance of structure and freedom to explore the world.

BS: How would you respond to those guys who DO feel
society’s pressure - whatever that may be - to parent their kids in a
certain way? Say, in relation to their boys, and boys’ emotions. Just
the other day, we saw a guy yell at his six-year-old son for being a
“cry baby” when he fell and hurt himself. This guy really isn’t a jerk;
he just was embarrassed that his son was crying. What do you say to
guys like that who have a knee-jerk reaction to their kids’ feelings?

DE: I think the scenario you described about your
neighbor is actually reflective of the kind of machismo and robotic
behavior dads have tried to instill in their sons for generations. Boys
aren’t supposed to cry or feel or emote anything but toughness, and if
they do they’re labeled a “pussy” or some other such thing. It’s my
personal feeling — based on my own experience — that this type of
social stereotyping is why male depression has become such an issue in
our society. Men are not robots; we DO feel hurt and sadness and
disappointment. But because it’s not considered kosher for us to
articulate those feelings, we swallow them. And for some, there’s only
so much of that you can eat before it overwhelms us and makes us
(clinically) depressed.

I’ll be honest: I’m not perfect in this area either. My son tends to
cry over a lot of things that aren’t worthy of tears, and it does
frustrate me. But I try not to call him names or make blanket
statements about his maturity level just because he is prone to tears.
I prefer to help him understand why he reacts that way, and to give him
alternative tools to deal with disappointment. It’s NEVER easy, but I
think it’s worth the extra time.

BS: I think that’s a really interesting statement you make
about men, society, and depression. One thought in psychology is that
depression is anger and aggression, turned inward. So as a father, how
do you help your son to be appropriately assertive, but not aggressive,
without totally thwarting him? What advice can you give other dads who
struggle with the same problem - raising confident, strong and happy
boys?

DE: I think being a respected and assertive dad requires knowing as much about yourself and your own biases as you do about changing diapers and replacing a detached arm from a Barbie doll. I think a lot of us tend to parent from the perspective of someone
who wants to do better with his kids than our parents did with us.
There’s nothing wrong with that idea, but when parenting becomes a
competition with our own inner demons, the child is the one who suffers
most. I saw those sorts of behaviors in my own fathering early on — the
competitiveness and ulterior motivation — and it finally occurred to me
that I was robbing my kids of something crucial by behaving that way.
Fatherhood is almost never easy, but why make it harder by virtually
forcing the kid to be something he’s not.

BS: Yeah, it’s easy to just be reactive to what our parents
did: my dad did it THIS way, so I will take a 180 and do it the
opposite, just BECAUSE. What do you say to other dads who are
struggling with depression? About even recognizing that you had a
problem, that this was not “status quo”? About the stigma and shame of
getting help, going to counseling, trying meds? How did you get past
that barrier?

DE: We talked earlier about the societal norms
regarding fatherhood (which I believe to be sort of silly), but it’s
obvious that our world’s expectations of men in general make a
diagnosis of depression a serious spirit-crusher for men. We learn as
boys that men must be stoic, rugged and emotionless. We must ignore
pain. On the schoolyard, the boys who performed poorly in sports were
labeled a “pussy” or a “faggot”, words intended to convey femininity,
which in this context connotes weakness. But we are not emotionless,
robotic beings; we are entirely fallible and completely human. We feel
sadness, sorrow, fear, angst - but we resist it. It’s shameful.

That’s all BS. The National Institute of Mental Health says six million American men — almost seven percent of the U.S. male population — are stricken with a depressive illness each year. Sadly, it’s in our nature to hide from it through compulsiveness and
self-destructive behavior (e.g., alcohol, workaholism, infidelity,
etc.). In my personal experience, the only way to get oneself “better”
is to accept that we need help and attack the depression with a
shock-and-awe type of assault. There are studies that suggest the best
possible course of action is a combination of meds and therapy. That’s
the path I chose, and I’m glad I did.

If you feel stressed or anxious or irritable, or even if you just
think something isn’t right, address it. Swallow your pride and take an
honest assessment of your life and your feelings. Contrary to what we
most boys learned as kids, there’s no shame in asking for help. The
shame comes from ignoring a problem so long that it becomes a detriment
to your family.

For more on this and lots of other great stuff, visit Danny online at www.DadGoneMad.com.

Brooke Shields and Marie Osmond are celebrities who are helping the sufferers of postpartum depression by reminding us that it can happen to anybody. Like all new Moms, they were told that they are supposed to “fall in love” with their newborns the moment they are placed in their arms. But for up to 15% of new mothers, a combination of biochemical changes and other stresses can result in real problems. Women with previous histories of depression, poor social support, or other life stresses have an even higher rate of difficulties. Feeling unloving about the baby, feeling sad, overwhelmed, and irritable; having trouble with sleep and appetite, and feelings of worthlessness or guilt, can occur in up to 80% of new Moms and are commonly referred to as the “Baby Blues”, but when the symptoms last for more than two weeks, it could be Postpartum Depression (PPD), and it’s time to get help.

But new Moms are ashamed of these feelings, and often don’t ask for help. They are told to “get a grip”, to “appreciate your beautiful family”, or that “in my day, we didn’t have time to be depressed”. All these reactions make the PPD sufferer feel worse, and less likely to seek help. We now know that babies of untreated PPD sufferers have a much higher risk of developmental delays and other social, emotional and other health problems. Depressed Moms are not able to provide the strong attentive, responsive, emotional comfort and eye-to-eye contact that newborns need for their little brains to grow. Infants really only feel that they exist in the light of their mother’s eyes. If she is distracted by emotional pain, fatigue, and depression, the baby suffers. And as the saying goes, “If Mom’s not happy, nobody’s happy”. The whole family suffers from PPD. So, treating Mom for PPD helps Mom, the baby, and the whole family as well.

Living in Hawaii, as I do, or in other rural areas, can present unique challenges to new Moms. Many families are recent immigrants from far-away countries or the mainland, and are disconnected from extended family and friends who can help in difficult times. New Moms often feel stuck at home with a crying baby, and no energy to leave the house to get support and help. Other Moms are afraid of what people may think if they admit their feelings, based on highly publicized media reports of mothers hurting or killing their babies. A very rare but severe form of postpartum disorder, called Postpartum Psychosis, occurs in about 1-2 out of 1,000 Moms and can include feeling out of touch with reality, rapid mood swings, and obsessive thoughts of hurting the baby. This is a rare form of the disorder, and women with a history of Bipolar Disorder or other more serious psychiatric conditions are at higher risk of developing this disorder. Living on an island or other rural area also means that resources are limited, and it may be difficult to find treatment providers out there who are trained to recognize and address the problems faced by new Moms.

But help is out there, and it works!

For most women, a combination of counseling and short-term antidepressant medication makes all the difference. If you don’t want to try medications, ask your therapist about starting with counseling first, to see if that is enough – often, it is. Also make sure to ask about the importance of getting adequate sleep, exercise, and good nutrition….many studies show that these factors can help a lot! New Moms can ask their OB/GYN, Family physician, clergy, or friends for a referral to a psychotherapist who can help Moms suffering from PPD.

Let’s keep talking about PPD, so that we can have happier Moms, happier babies, and happier families!

Click this link for a great resource:  Postpartum Support International has regular, free, confidential chats, tons of information, and resources for moms, their families, and professionals.