Gomberg: Four reasons being a millennial parent rocks

There's a lot about raising little kidlets in the 21st century that I assume makes parenting easier than it used to be. One obvious one is modern medicine so that, as a friend of mine said, "our kids won't die of smallpox." And then there is all of the modern technology, like the power-operated swing my mom envies as she remembers her hand-crank version that allowed her 15-minute naps when I, a colicky baby, would finally hush for a bit. (Yeah, yeah, I realize not hushing easily might be a bit of a theme in my life.)

There are things that probably make it harder, too. Quality childcare these days is remarkably expensive (in our case, more than our mortgage every month), and while it's worth every penny, it's not accessible to everyone.

With access to so much information, it's easy to get two conflicting bits of info about the same topic, and everyone from your neighbor to the grocery store clerk has parenting advice to offer whether their insights have been solicited or not.

And, there's the inevitable internet-search-deduced cancer diagnosis for what is probably just baby acne. But, from diapers that show you by color if any piddle has been piddled to glow-in-the-dark binkies, parenting youngins nowadays is pretty rad.

Here's what I think are quite possibly the best things about being a millennial parent:

The internet — Duh.

Now, I know I said it can cause confusion, but there have been many days when it has saved my life, or at least my temporary sanity. For example, nobody told me the dirty details of the umbilical nubbin's healing process. We knew it would dry up and fall off, but I just pictured a cute little baby belly button when the remnants of our human connection had fully served its purpose.

Nope.

One day, while Elenor was at the store, I changed Harvey's diaper (if she were there, this story would have been about her because our agreement has been, as our friend Deb puts it, that I'm in charge of Harv's input and she's in charge of his output) and I saw blood on his onesie. The nubbin was half-on half-off in a terrifying flappy manner and what appeared to be either Harvey's brains or guts seemed to be coming out! What. The. Crap!?

I immediately texted my sister and our birth coach friend, worried we had somehow already broken our baby. And in the crazed two minutes between my text and their response, I was able to glean enough information from Google not to completely melt down — a very useful thing for a parent of a newborn. Turns out that's the normal healing process. By the time Elenor got home, I was just rocking totally-healthy Harvey in my arms silently crying tears of relief. Thanks, Google.

Camera phones — I realize that's not what they're called anymore, but having cameras on our phones, which we always have on us, is amazing.

I was filming little baby Harv the other day, who's 10-months old and super verbal but not as interested in mobility. I have probably 10 minutes of collective footage and at least 50 various photos of him in what I think is an ALMOST-crawling position. Will I capture the moment ­­­­— whenever it may be — that he first crawls or walks or rides a bike? The likelihood is high! Will I need lots of digital storage? That likelihood is correspondingly high.

Apps — How did people track anything before apps? If it weren't for one app, I wouldn't have known when I was ovulating. And if it weren't for another, I wouldn't have known when gestational Harvey was the size of a papaya, or what side I had nursed him on and for how long. What meds are OK when you're breastfeeding? Say it with me: there's an app for that.

Power to change — This is my favorite. We are now the biggest generation ever, having surpassed the baby boomers in number, and are by and large a very forward thinking group. We're redefining divisions of duty in our houses and we're helping our employers see the benefits of accommodating our parenthood in the workplace (let's hear it for paid family leave!).

So, while we might have it the better than ever, like our parents, we'll make sure our kids have it better than us.

Marina Gomberg's lifestyle columns appear on sltrib.com. She is a communications professional and lives in Salt Lake City with her wife, Elenor Gomberg, and their son, Harvey. You can reach Marina at mgomberg@sltrib.com.