Chaos Ensues: Part I

Well it's been quite some time since I've posted anything. 2010 was a whirlwind year. It was filled with some of the highest highs and lowest lows. My son turned two in November and just before then, I realized I had resented him somewhat since he was born.

That's not something a mom likes to admit, especially to the entire world through a blog post. I got married at 22 and started a family at 24. I realized I went through a quarter-life crisis last year. There's so much pressure on people in our age group to be at a certain place in our lives at this age. I had to grow up so fast, and hold so much responsibility that I cracked under all the pressure. It damaged a few close friendships and countless other intangible consequences.

In times like this, I like to focus on what I gained and learned from my experiences. I learned more about life and myself in one summer, than I had in the last few years. I'll start from the beginning but this is going to take more than one post. I'll try to get the whole story up too...

It started about a year and a half ago. I suddenly had a renewed self-confidence that was bursting right out of me. At the time I had just graduated from college and landed my dream job.  I had a hard time in college. It was a lot of pressure to keep up with school, work, buying a house and being a wife - and that was before I was pregnant. I remember crying on my way home one day thinking, why can't I handle all of this? There are so many more people in this world who do it in worse circumstances than I am. Why can't I handle it as well as them? After graduation in June of 2009, I of course felt relieved. Relieved that I no longer had to be a wife, mother, full time student, and super star employee (among other things like sister, daughter, best friend, etc.). I could scratch one thing off the list of responsibilities.

My career was thriving. I was promoted to Senior Account Executive in late 2009. Though it seemed I had everything a girl could ask for, I had a feeling deep inside that I was missing something. An emptiness I couldn't understand.

Let's Talk Boobs by Cali

When I found out I was pregnant with my first child I was overwhelmed with what I had to do! Take
prenatal vitamins, find a Dr., go to said Dr., A LOT, find a pediatrician for your baby, register for baby
items you are unfamiliar with and have no idea what you need, go to baby shower, get the rest of the
things you need. Can't forget dealing with the things that happen to your body, whose boobs are these?
Where is my baby bump? THERE it is! Why are my boobs leaking? I need nacho cheese Doritos at 2am.
Why can't I sleep? No I really wanted cooler ranch Doritos? What do you mean you can't find
peppermint stick ice cream at the store? I could go on for weeks! So hard to prepare yourself
emotionally for what is about to happen.

Eventually it crossed my mind "oh my gosh I am going to have to feed this being!? Now I get to my
point. I knew breastfeeding was best. I knew that I wanted to do what was best for my baby. So why
not? Well from the very beginning of my son's life I ran into SO many "booby traps."
Booby trap number 1 for me, formula! I had more cans of formula than I knew what to do with before my son was even born! Samples, checks you name it, they gave me even more IN the hospital too! Other road blocks included a total lack of support and advice. After my son was born we were thrown into a breastfeeding class that had at least 15 other moms and their own new bundles of joy and ONE lactation consultant, with a half hour to help us all.

That was no good! We got a quick once over and I was told he had a great latch. Well okay then, this
will be smooth sailing! Then the melt down came, my first night home, no milk had come in, baby was
crying, I was crying, my boobs hurt, chaos! What do I do? Oh yeah, all that formula they gave us (see
how that works?) Then it happens, for me the most crippling blow to my attempt to breastfeed...
Nursing. In... PUBLIC!? Going out was scary, leave the house? What if the baby gets hungry? What if I
have to feed him in public? What if someone is offended and says something rude to me? I was so sure
I would crumple into a pile of tears that I resigned to staying home. But that got old fast as my father
came to town a few weeks after my sons birth and we were off to the races, lunch out, shopping, visiting
family, and it felt GREAT to be out and about, except for that cold sweat panic when the baby got
hungry, so formula it was (again, see how that works?). I felt so much guilt as my milk supply decreased,
and his formula intake increased, what a slippery slope.

My return to work also yielded many issues for me. Working in the food industry as a server provided
many pitfalls. Long shifts often, what we refer to as "doubles", left no time to pump, when can a server
stop and breath, let alone sit down for 10-15 minutes and pump? It was the end of the end. I would be
lying if I said sometimes I don't feel pangs of guilt about not breastfeeding him longer. However I
learned a lot from that first attempt.
With the birth of my daughter I felt ready, I was prepared with support groups and more knowledge than
the first time around. While I took the diaper bags that the formula companies used for marketing, I hid
away, gave away, threw away the samples, keeping the bag and even the occasional convenient cooler
bag. This time around the hospital I delivered at had changed things around; instead of one class with
many moms and one lactation consultant, they had a lactation consultant that came to my room to
help. I had people to call when I got home and realized, oh yeah this hurts! I came to realize, well yes, it
hurts at first (only the initial latch, not the entire time), and about two weeks (if even that) later it didn't
hurt. Wew! I made it through, with no formula. Then the big hurdle... Nursing. In... PUBLIC! Maybe it
came with a little bit of age, maybe it came with a little experience, but this time around I figured, I really
didn't care what anyone else though, I would not put someone else's needs in front of my child's. Armed
with a few nursing bras and a few nursing shirts, I was ready to take on the world. I did it! Here we are,
five months into breastfeeding and I feel like a superhero!

Two great "movements" that have come around since I had my first child that I would like to give credit
too are, Ban the Bag and Best for Babes. I was very happy to see that the hospital I was delivering at was a participant in Ban the Bag. I feel that it's really setting mothers up to fail, "breastfeed because it is best for the baby."

But here is some formula for when you fail". It would be like a doctor sending you home with a prescription
for chantix to quit smoking, and a pack of cigarettes, what good is that? I can't say enough great things
about Best for Babes, they are doing a great thing, and I recommend that site to any mom that is
breastfeeding, wants to breast feed, or is struggling with breast feeding. If I can do it, you can try! But
importantly, if you don’t suceed, do not beat yourself up over it. Because while breastfeeding is good
for your baby, having a hapy healthy (phsically, mentally and emotionally) mama is really what matters
most!

Have any mama’s here run into any “Booby Traps?”

What is the Ideal Age to Have a Baby?

An awesome survey was conducted by ForbesWoman and TheBump.com to find out what women feel is the ideal age for having children. At 24, I certainly was viewed as being "really young" when I gave birth to my first child. But was I? 59% of the survey respondents who had children after 35 wish they had been younger. 

Designated 'Hitter'

My 15 month old son has adopted the ever-irritating habit of hitting. He winds up, looks you in the eye, and boom! Smacked right on the face, arm, leg, or whatever is closest. After the initial swat, he keeps going. He don't hit, the baby sitter doesn't hit, and I'm not sure where this behavior came from. And for whatever reason, I (his mother of all people) am the only one he hits. Luckily, he hasn't been hitting anyone at the sitter so I don't have to deal with that yet.

I thought the was just trying out his new-found skill, not realizing it hurts people. So the first few times, I would make a big dramatic scene and say "Ouch!" which was followed by fake crying and exaggerated sad faces. My dramatic performance did demonstrate that this hitting, indeed hurt someone. He'd bury his face in my side and look up at me, sweetly saying, "Hi." This was his way of saying, "sorry Mom!"

The next day, we go through this charade again. And the next day. And the next day after that. After a few days, I resort to, "No, that hurts!" This has the same result.

I don't want my kid to be the 'hitter' unless they're talking about his baseball skills. At 15 months, I thought it'd be a while before I had to deal with behavioral issues. Has anyone else had an experience like this? How did you get through it?

Formula Follow Up

Someone sent me a couple videos in response to the Formula Case. I thought I'd share :)

It's the Little Things

As a mom there are so many milestones we look forward to. Much like the way we used to imagine our weddings, we now imagine our babies taking their first steps and saying words. These huge developmental monuments are so important, but now that we're going through this whole "raising a child" thing, there are other moments that make life so much sweeter as a Mom.

Josh lifted up my shirt the other day while I was slouched on the couch. Lifted just enough to see my yucky mommy tummy and said "ooohhhhhhh." Of course, my initial thought was "what's that supposed to mean?!" But then I remembered he's just a baby and wouldn't know the difference... I still made it a point to inform him that his gigantic self did that!

My son took his diaper off for the first time. Luckily there wasn't any poop in it!

Went into the bedroom one morning to get him up and thought he got into a chocolate bar. But how would he do that if he's in his crib? This diaper had poop in it. A lot of poop. It was everywhere... gross...

Somehow this little person who's only been alive for 12 months has studied his parents so closely that today he went over to the remote, picked it up, aimed it up at the TV (it sits on our mantle) and clicks! When the channel changed he said "OOOOOooooooooo!" Typical male...

He amazes me. My new favorite thing is watching him stack. He likes to stack his blocks, his cups, anything that will stack. It's so cute! Another new thing is taking the back "chair" part off his little Mickey Mouse car and trying to put it back on. There are two pegs he has to get into relatively small holes. He pulls it out, puts it back in, pulls it out, all over again.

And the babbling. I love the babbling. It's almost like he's speaking another language that sounds remotely familiar. (perhaps because I've spoken that language before?) He says things and it sounds like he's saying something that totally makes sense but he's not. He comes into a room and says, "Hi guys!" Or drops something and picks it up saying, "I got it." I always reply back because I want him to keep on talkin'!

I love the millions of little moments that make motherhood one big milestone.

Baby Formula: Brand Name vs. Store Brand

When my son was born last year, the thought of buying formula after breastfeeding was not a happy one. I wanted to make sure I gave him the best, but just found the price tag hard to swallow. After about 3 months of formula feeding, my sitter mentioned that her daughter who also had a tot my son's age started buying generic baby formula. Her daughter took it to the pediatrician and asked what the difference is. Guess what the answer was - NONE! After that, we were generic all the way!

I have read so many blog posts and articles about the equality of brand name formulas (like Enfamil and Similac) and generic formulas, but with the marketing of these brand names as "better" than generic, it's no surprise that common consumer doesn't think otherwise.

Recently, a landmark federal court jury verdict confirmed that Mead Johnson, the maker of Enfamil LIPIL Infant Formula, has engaged in false advertising by stating that store brand-infant formulas sold at Walmart, Target, CVS, Walgreens and other retailers, do not provide the same nutritional benefits as Enfamil.

The jury found that Enfamil advertisements were false and misleading, especially since store brand formulas have the same nutrients at the same levels as Enfamil. In the process, they have exposed the truth about infant formula: store-brand infant formulas are nutritionally equivalent to, and confer the same developmental benefits as, the more expensive national brands like Enfamil. Buying a heavily marketed formula from a big pharmaceutical company does not get you any closer to breast milk.

So what does this mean to Moms? It means we could have been saving up to $600 a year by using store brand formulas, which cost half as much as Enfamil LIPIL and other national brands. Luckily I made the switch and assumed the cost savings after just a few months. I felt it was SO important to pass this information along because as a mom on a budget- I know you need that $600 a year!

If you're looking for more back up information check out articles about Brand vs. Store Brand formula on these sites:

Baby Center
BNet.com
PBM Products (manufacturer of store brand formulas)

As an added bonus, Consumer Reports is giving away an excellent source of unbiased recommendations - the Consumer Reports Best Baby Products Book. This trusted manual can help any Mom navigate the world of baby products by recommending necessities that are safe, affordable and suit any lifestyle. This giveaway is all about spreading the word! Here's how to enter:

Initial Entry:
Leave a comment here - What's your take on this issue? Does the court ruling change your mind about buying store brand?

1 Extra Entry:
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Giveaway ends January 11, 2010 at 7:00 pm EST. Thanks for entering and good luck!

First Haircut Jitters

My child is starting to look like a raggamuffin. He had a full head of beautiful dark hair when he was born. As the months passed, those dark locks lightened up to a bright cheerful blonde. Then he went through the balding phase. You know, that phase when all they do is lay there and move their head right and left. He had a mohawk. All the cute little locks on the top of his head stayed right in place as the hair from the sides and back rubbed off.

Now those locks are a little long. If I put him in pink, I'm sure you'd think my baby was a girl. Ok, maybe I'm just a picky mom, but it's getting long. I keep thinking about how badly he needs a haircut. He's so squirmy I don't think he'll ever be able to get a trim! He is in constant motion. I feel as though I'm diapering a monkey sometimes. Arms, legs, hands, feet, everywhere! He won't hold still. Not to change a diaper, not to put his shoes on... nothing!

What's a mom to do? I've read article after article claiming they've got the tips and tricks to keep your baby occupied for their first haircut. Give him a toy? Yeah, that'll get old in about 30 seconds....

So now I just have to wait and see how long I can stand his hair to be before I take the plunge and try to get his haircut!

How to Throw a Simple, Stress-Free 1st Birthday Party

I was nervous about throwing my son's first birthday party. I wanted to make sure he had a blast and that my guests had a good time, too. How do you satisfy both a one year old and a group of mostly twenty somethings and grandparents??

Simple, cut out the stress, don't make a big deal of it, and party! I went cheap on the decorations. After all, my son is one, what's he going to care if the house doesn't transform into a Sesame Street or Tonka truck room? I had a birthday table cloth, banner and balloons already on hand. That was my decor! Hung it up and bam- instant party!

We did easy food too. I lack a dishwasher - you can imagine how fun it is to clean up after parties and holiday dinners with no dishwasher! So we went with pizza, wings, a veggie tray and macaroni salad. Everything was eaten! We didn't have one piece or pizza or one wing left over! I have a tendancy to over do it on the food when throwing parties, so I really wanted to just make Josh the focus of the party. Not the food, not the decorations, just the birthday boy!

It was a success! Everyone enjoyed watching Josh play with his new toys. The food was all eaten! I had almost no leftovers! It was great. Just wrapped up some cake and sent everyone on their way.

Perfect. Forget the favors and themes and over-the-top decor... At the end of the day the baby turned one. He will never remember that fabulous Go Diego Go theme with the full size cut out of Diego himself. Relax! You set the tone for your party. I have plenty more years ahead of me to make a big deal out of birthday parties - I want to make sure he'll at least remember them!

Is OCD Hereditary?

My husband is a neat freak. Everything has its place. When we first got together I thought it was cute. Now, it kind of irritates me. I am not a neat person. I like organized chaos. It may look a little messy to you, but I know where everything is. He is the yin to my yang. Keeps my butt in gear when I get lazy and don't feel like putting things in their designated "place."

I'm pretty sure my son has inherited that trait. It's so cute! It started a couple months back when he was about 7 or 8 months old. He'd stand up in his crib when he was done napping or sleeping and by the time we got in the room his stuffed animal would be in his hamper. The hamper sits right next to his crib. We thought it was so peculiar that only the stuffed animal would make it to the hamper while the toy in his crib would be on the floor- every time.

Then after we noticed his preference of Ally the aligator being in the hamper as opposed to on the floor, he started "helping" with laundry. I'd bring the basket downstairs, dump the clothes on the floor, and sort into piles. As soon as the clothes hit the floor, here comes Josh, picking up each article of clothing and placing it back in the basket. He'd give me a look like - "Mom, you know this is where the clothes go. Not on the floor."

Now he's starting to help me put his toys away. He picks up each block and puts them into the bag. Going around the room to make sure he has them all. I love it! I'm just amazed at how he knows where things belong. I guess after living in a house for one year, you pick up on where things get put away. Haha

As long as he doesn't get on my back about "where my bath towell goes" (like someone I know), it'll be great to have a little helper around the house! ...Or does this "wanting to help" thing wear off at some point? Teenage years, maybe?

Hormones

Hormones are the worst. Starting at the delicate age of about 12, us women become ruthless monsters. All thanks to hormones.

These chemicals change and make me so emotional sometimes. When I was getting married, I would be driving in my car and think about my friends and how much we've gone through together over the years, now they're in my wedding, and blah blah blah... I'd cry. Yes, just the thought of happiness, made me cry tears of joy out of nowhere. Then the whole changing of the name thing was just too much for me. I built an identity on my maiden name and now I have to change it?! I wanted to change it, but I had to have a breakdown first.

Then I got pregnant. Need I say more? Ok, then I'll on. The first trimester wasn't bad. Toward my 14th or 15th week, those crazy juices started flowing. Pop music fans- remember that song "Piece of Me" by Britney Spears? Well the lyrics are about how she can't do anything without it ending up in the tabloids. I know, PUH-LEASE. Riding in the car, the song would come on and the part of the song would come on and I'd just get so sad for Britney! **Insert crazy guy crying "Leave Britney alone!" here**

"I'm mrs she's too big, now she's too thin." That lyric got me every time. I would think about my massive rear end I'm sitting on and how horrible it would be for the public to point it out and headline it on People and OK! and the rest of the tabloids. Don't get me wrong, I'm not having a pitty party for Britney Spears, I was crying (yes, I shed a tear to this song) because my hormones were raging out of control!

I would sob and sob and sob during my second trimester. Nearly everything would turn me into a raging, psychopathic bitch or a crying, bumbling idiot who needed a hug. That went strong until about 30 weeks into my pregnancy. Then it shut off. I was getting ready. Nesting, being in control.

Then I got to my baby shower. Blaring "Move bitch get out the way" (a la Ludacris - yes it was that kind of move), I sped to my shower. Singing along "move bitch," my big, huge 8 and a half month pregnant self got to the parking lot, after holding it back the whole way, and started to sob. "I can't believe I'm having a baby!" Seriously, picture this singing Ludacris... they let me have a baby. HA!

What are some of your fun stories you can blame on your hormones? Does it ever work? Do you ever verbally knock your man's lights out and get away with it because you're feeling "bitchy?" C'mon tell!!

Birthdays

I've been thinking a lot lately. Reminiscing about my pregnancy, the birth of my first baby, and how fast the first year has gone. My son, my baby, my first born, will be turning one year old on Friday. I can't believe it. The time has gone so fast.

When he was first born, I'd hold him and sleep with him on my chest, and soak up each and every second. Always thinking about how these days would be gone before I knew it. And they were. In the blink of an eye, Josh was eating baby cereal, cutting a tooth, saying his first word and walking.

I took the day off from work on Friday so I can celebrate with my little man. I was always so excited when my mom got to stay with us on our birthdays. It just made the day so much more special. That statement made me think. She took the day off work so she could spend time with me. That means the day must have been special for her, too. Why wouldn't it? She carried me around for nine months, gave birth to me, raised me... Of course this day is special for her.

Our attitudes toward birthdays are so self-centered. "It's my day!" As a mother, I'm totally re-thinking that statement. My birthday is not all about me. Yes, I was born and the world changed forever... haha, but the most important factor was the fact that as the first born, my birth created a family. My parents' love for eachother, created a family. That's such an astounding thought that I could only understand after becoming a parent.

This year, more than ever, I want to spend my birthday with my parents. The ones who brought me into this world. The people who fed me when I was hungry and taught me the importance of the "Clean Plate Club." The people who grounded me because "it worked" and didn't ground my younger sister because she needed "different" discipline - grounding "didn't work." The people who put up with my shinanigans as a teenager (and as an adult).

Now that I'm a mom, there's nothing in the world more important than being with my baby on his birthday. I still remember my 16th birthday. The teenybopper boy band group LFO was popular (yes, gag me now) and my friend had gotten us tickets to a small concert on the night of my 16th birthday. I wanted to go SO bad! What better way to spend your Sweet Sixteen than with a girl friend and crooning prubescent boys? My mom was disappointed that I wouldn't be around, but she understood that I was a teenager and it was "all about me" that day. Looking back, no, I wouldn't change it, but I certainly do appreciate her more for being disappointed. If she didn't care at all, what would that have meant?

But don't get me wrong, I still deserve to be treated as a queen on my birthday. I'll just make sure to share some of the love with those two people who put me here and gave me a day all to myself!

Thought I'd throw this clip in here. I can totally relate to this commercial. I'm sure you've seen it before. It just reminds us how prescious these years are before they become their own people- with jobs and boyfriends and lives outside our happy little home.

Rubber Pants and Always Pads

Pee. That's all I can say. There's so much pee! Everynight we get up in the wee hours of the morning to our son screaming at the fact that he is soaked in pee. His diaper, jammies, sheets and sometimes his favorite aligator gets a bath in the golden shower. We've tried everything! At first we thought it was the diapers. We had success with our local super market brand and they were about $10 cheaper a box. Which, as you know, really adds up when you're going through so many diapers!

The first few times this happened he was in the generic store brand diapers. He peed so much that the silicone inside had seeped out into his PJs and he was covered in this jelly-like goo. Not a fun experience to get up to a screaming baby and have to bath him at two in the morning because he had a diaper explosion. Then we switched to Luvs. Same thing happend.

After restricting his fluid intake before bed to only sips of water with dinner, then a bottle at bedtime, we had some success. Success meaning the diaper didn't explode it's gooey guts all over him. We went to Babies R Us to pick up some rubber pants, thinking this would at least contain the goo, and found these cool absorbant inserts. They're like big thick Always pads without the sticky. Just put one in front and it boosts the absorbancy of the diaper. Pretty cool but the best part was they were less than $4 for a package of 30. I could handle that.

We tried both the inserts and the plastic pants over the diaper. It seemed to work ok but he'd still pee thought. He just wasn't soaking to the point of needing a bedding change at 2 am.

I wasn't too keen on the plastic pants after that. Since he was peeing and getting the inside wet I was afraid of what that would do to his skin. He has pretty sensitive skin and I don't want to give him an un-needed rash.

So, after all of this for about two months, I think we finally have it figured out (knock on wood). I have continued limiting his liquids at night and added more solid food. This kid eats and eats and eats. I added some applesauce to his bedtime routine. I give him some Gerber Graduates snacks like the wheels or crunchies and about an hour later we move on to applesauce. He loooves applesauce.

Since we've added more solid food and are using the inserts, we haven't been getting up at 2 in the morning to a wet, screaming baby.

Trial and error, ladies.... Hope this keeps working or I don't know what I'm going to try next!

A Mish Mash Mad Mom

Some of you may remember this post, Too Many Hats, back from May. Obviously being a new mom and a twenty five year old recent college grad with a house and a family is tough. I've been going through my own personal stuff right now. The bad part about it is that it's been stuck in my head and I've been trying to figure it out without the support of my best friends, my rocks. My communication skills have been lacking over the past months. So bad that I've pretty much secluded myself by not feeling like talking on the phone, or even get out of the house.


I just feel trapped. I've been trying out how to not feel so trapped. I don't even know why I feel this way. Shutting myself in - no phone calls, no leaving the house - was the complete opposite way to deal with it. Little baby is growing up. He's not as "portable" as he used to be. I used to be able to toss him in the car and go. Let him sleep in the car seat. Not have to worry about him getting into much. That's not the case anymore. As he's gotten more mobile, I found myself becoming less mobile. I'm afraid to go anywhere when I get home from work because he needs to eat. He might be crabby the whole time. He might poop and I'd need to find somewhere to change him. I don't even go to the store because that means I'd have to bring him. I don't want to resent him, but I feel like I don't know how to balance all of this.

I need some bull shit in my life. Just good old fashioned bull shit. The kind of bull shit where I can sit around with my best friends and talk about what happened on Grey's. The kind of bull shit where I can take off the mommy hat for 30 minutes and just be myself. It's overwhelming to feel responsible for someone every single moment of every single day. I guess I've just been having trouble balancing the damanding feeling of motherhood with myself. The person who makes me, me. I feel like I've totally changed and might have had an identity chrisis.
And my blog! Ugh! I feel sooo guilty for not posting every other day like I had been! I just feel so lazy and have such a hard time getting my ideas out of my head. I hate it! I love blogging and I love my readers! I want you to stick around! Please don't let my lack of communication skills impede our bloggy love! ;)

I'm just learning that, as a mother, I will never have alone time ever again. Or at least not for another 18 years... My only alone time is in the car. When I'm driving to and from the sitter's. After that I have to entertain Josh for two hours before the hubby gets home. Then I have to entertain him.

I think I've finally figured it out. I've always been a person who things about the future and not about the now. Even when it comes to my future 45 minutes from now. I'm so busy thinking about everything else I have to do that I can't chill out for five minutes and call my best friend to tell her about the really embarrassing zit I have on my nose. I can't enjoy my son when I get home from work because I'm thinking about all the other work I have to do.

That's no way to live. I'm living in the now--- for the important "now" stuff. Save the future living for the actual future and not 45 minutes into the future.

Has anyone ever felt this way? Mother or not... I think we all deal with "growing up" in different ways. It took me to produce another life for me to actually "grow up." haha. There could be a punch line in there, but I won't embarrass myself.

What do you think? Are you going through this too?

11 Month Recap

Josh is fast approaching the 11 month mark. Which means he's also fast approaching his first birthday!! I can't believe it. He's grown so fast. Everytime I look at him he's grown even more. This past weekend my husband's best friend got married. Josh was just starting to walk, 12 to maybe 14 steps in a row. He slept over my parents' house so Mommy and Daddy could have a few cocktails and not have to wake up at 6 am with a massive headache to mother/father a rambuncious baby. I picked him up from his overnight stay and he was full-blown walking. It's amazing how fast he learned that. He just turned 10 months when he decided it was time to take his first steps, now three weeks later, he's walking from room to room, sippy cup in hand.


He's getting his seventh tooth. That's really fun. He was just 4 months old when he started teething. Back then he was just crying his normal baby cry. Now that it's been a couple months since he cut a new tooth, this one's a doozy. He cries his little head off. Tears flowing, nose running. Poor guy. He whines when the pain isn't quite so severe. It's kinda cute actually.

His little teeth are doing their jobs. He is totally over baby food. (Thank God) He eats what the family eats for dinner which is SO much easier! I make sure he gets all of his fruits and veggies, grains and protiens. He actually wants to start using the spoon himself. He gets it, puts it in his mouth the right way, but just can't figure out how to get the food on there. Is there a tutorial or something for that??

He learns more and more everyday. It's so fun to watch. He's so smart. He puts all of his toys in their place. Blocks go in the dumptruck so he can dump them. He throws his stuffed animals from the crib into the laundry basket and all the other toys go on the floor. I think it's because whenever he has a diaper explosion, that's where Daddy and I toss them. So cute!

I love being his mommy. It's so weird to see my little baby turn into a toddler. He is looking more and more like a little boy and less like a baby. He walked into the dining room today carrying his sippy and crying for mama. Makes me smile :)

Random Tuesday Thoughts

Well today's random thoughts were mysteriously deleted from my "to edit" list... nice...

My little baby was actually crying for Mama from his bed yesterday morning. It was the cutest thing ever. Then on the way home from the sitter last night, I saw him from the rearview mirror waving his hand at me and saying "haaaaaa." It was SO cute! I love it! It's those little things that happen everyday that make me love being a mom. Everything he does. It's just so cool to watch him learn.

My little man is a little monkey. He's so strong for 10 months. He's walking. Not too steadily yet, but he can get in a good 12 - 14 steps before he needs to sit down (or tumble down). This is another reason he needs to wear a helmet. It used to be that he was just so wild that he'd fling himself into the side of the changing table or hard spot of the couch (I still don't know how he managed to do that). A helmet with a faceguard.

He was walking at my in-laws' house today and was making it quite far, so I just let him go. And of course he stopped in the doorway and fell at just the right angle to knock his noggin on the side of the door frame. He had a line shapped goose egg that turned black and blue. Luckily his bangs covered it up and you couldn't really see it after the swelling went down.

Last week he had a bruise on his nose for a while. He was smart enough to pull down the mobile above his crib and take it apart. Like a little engineer he dismantled each peace and wove the part holding the animals at me like a victory flag when I walked into the room.

He's such a little stinker...

Wordless Wednesday

This is what an 11 pound baby looks like in your belly:

And this is what an 11 pound baby looks when he's born:

My chubby little man. Read my post: My Baby is a Freak: A Birth Story

Wardrobe Malfunction

One thing you have to accept as a mother is that your wardrobe is an extension of necessities carried in your diaper bag. Then there are the absentminded times when you just don't care.

A few weeks ago, it was sunny and beautiful outside- a great day to take Josh to the playground. He just loves those baby swings! We live fairly close to the park, so I just load him up in the stroller and off we go! I was feeling particularly skinny that day. There were a couple sun dresses I hadn't worn since my vacation in Punta Cana so I decided to throw one on and show off my MILF self. Then the wind started to blow. Picture a Mad Mom strolling her baby through the neighborhood then, WOOSH, up goes the dress. And this was a grannie panties kind of day. I wasn't even wearing anything underneath that I could be proud of. I thought for sure that was a fluke. How could wind blow upward anyway?

Then the next gust, then a constant breeze. Nice. I resorted to bunching up my dress and holding it against my leg in one hand, and steering the stroller with the other. Good thing my husband was meeting us at the playground after work and would DRIVE us home.

Then there was the time I wore my nasty shorts to the store. Everyone has them. Those nasty, worn out, dingy looking shorts. You've had them since high school so they're nice and broken in. And since they fit on your ever-so-slender rear end in high school, you of course must wear them now- just because they fit. This particular pair, straight from my cheerleading days (aaakk!) has developed a couple holes in the seem of the butt crack. I only wear them around house where I dont care who sees my undies (or grannie panties depending on the day). Well, I had been home for a while and my husband just got home from work. I needed to run up to the store really quick for those last minute necessities. Totally wore the holy pants. Big. Giganic. Hole. In my ass. How embarrassing...

Other awesome wardrobe malfunctions:

My t-shirt serves as a tissue
Is that POOP? Nuff said...
White blouse became a napkin on spaghetti night. Forgot until I wore it to work... at least the stain was barely visable by then...
Got dressed for company THEN burped the baby... bad idea
Had a baby washcloth hanging out my pant leg one day

Letter From the Cook

Dear Husband Who Will Never Read This,

I am 99% certain you will never see this post that is why I chose to vent here, to my beloved readers, so I don't explode in your face over something seemingly small.

When I cook dinner, please at least give me some inkling of a hint that it was appreciated. I know that you don't mind that I don't cook everyday, but when I do it would be great if I could get a "thanks, that was good." Even if it wasn't. Just lie. Lie through your teeth.

When you come home from work in the evening and Joshua is screaming his little head off because I'm preparing your meal and not playing with him, please feel free to take him up to bed. You get home at 8:00 from work, which is perfect timing for a trip up to bed. You're going up to shower anyway, can't you take the baby with you?

I'm yelling "Joshua, no!" for a reason. This is because he likes to play in the coffee filters, canned goods, pots, pans, etc. He's even been in the potato bag today. When I'm running from the counter to chop the onion then washing my hands to grab the baby before he puts a dust bunny he found somewhere in his mouth, please say "it's time for bed, don't worry, I'll take him up." That would be grand.

When I yell up that dinner is ready (which is honestly 10 minutes before it's actually ready because I know you will do this), please respond audibly. So I can hear you. If you're upstairs, don't shake your head. Don't wait 3 minutes and then answer because by then I'll have forgotten what I asked you when you say "ok."

Five minutes later when I tell you that dinner is ready, please come down. Please make the effort to remove your eyeballs that are seemingly glued to ESPN and pry your buttcheeks off the couch to come devour my fabulous meal I worked so hard on.

One minute after that, please don't get an attitude with me when I get pissy because I've been telling you that dinner is ready four thousand times.

I don't cook dinner because I feel like I have to. I cook dinner because I want to do something for you. Please take a second to consider that.

There will be a quiz. No open notes.

Love,

The Cook
aka Your Wife

That One Time I Traumatized My Baby

It was a odd summer morning. I was in my usual morning fog. That "I-still-need-a-few-more-hours-of-sleep" fog. But I got up, got myself ready, grabbed the baby and headed out the door. The sun hadn't come up quite yet so it was just dim enough to need your headlights on. It wasn't exactly drizzling. More like spitting. I think of it as just enough water to come out of the sky to compare to that time the guy with food in his mouth was talking to you and you were sprayed with little bits of pre-masticated food. This whole summer has been odd. Oddly and unseasonably cool. In Cleveland we usually get enough good pool days before August, but not this year.

I got to my sitter's house, parked the car, got out, went to open the back door. Crap. It's locked. Go back to the front door. Crap. That's locked too. CRAP! The baby's still in the car! Oh. My. God!

I walk calmly up to the front door, to be greated by my always cheerful babysitter. As I'm making my way up the walk I keep checking back. It's a very quiet neighborhood and it's very unlikely anyone would break into the car just because there's a baby in it. I, seemingly very calm, looked at my sitter. I must have had that look puppies get when they know they've done something bad. If I had a tail, it'd be between my legs.

"Can I use your phone? I locked the baby in the car." Of course as I'm spewing this inconceivably hard to imagine situation out of my mouth, I see my sitter's husband is home. Luckily, I've known Tina and her family for over 20 years. She had the pleasure (haha right) of watching me and my two sisters when we were young. I am so blessed that Josh will have the same care that I had.

Anyway. I call my husband. No answer. I call my mother. Of course she answered but I knew what I'd have started at that point. As soon as I utter the words "Baby is still in the car," I swear I think I gave her a heart attack. She was her usual frantic self and I knew she would be all day long. But that's just because she's my mother and that's her grandson locked in there. Another mom pulls up as Tina's husband is checking to see if he can get the doors open. Great. Another witness to my stupidity. I felt like anyone who knew would think "wow, she should have never had kids," or "feel bad for that baby with a mother like that." Ok, I know I'm exaggerating, but that's exactly what I felt!

We called the cops and I explained to them that I had my son locked in the car. They came about ten minutes later. Meanwhile my mother is calling Tina, frantic of course because I locked her grandson in the car. Luckily, as I had mentioned, it was a cool drizzly morning. I waited out next to the car under an umbrella just looking into the car hopelessly. The baby would look back and me and give a good complaining wail. "Waaaahhhhhh!!!" The look on his face clearly said "WHY THE HELL ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE!? GET ME OUT OF THE DAMN CAR!!!" Clearly.

So to end my story, I'll let you know that Josh was safe and sound when the policeman unlocked the door. I pulled him out of the car and hugged him and made sure that in those 20 minutes he didn't some how injure himself or cry himself into hysteria. The police officer said- "Oh, I didn't know there was a baby in there." Seriously? Now I know how miscommunications in law enforcement could alter the result of an emergency. What if it were a day like today? It was 80 degrees when I dropped him off.

Now anytime I put Josh in the car, buckle him in and we're ready to go. He screams. The. Whole. Way. There. Do you think I could have traumatized him? The screaming and crying and carrying on didn't start until a couple weeks after that horrifying incident, but maybe I enduced Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder on him!

Mother of the Year