Category Archives: A Laugh At My Expense

A Mother’s Prayer

Saw this and it made me laugh. It’s by Tina Fey (SNL actress):

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

(Solid) Food Fight!

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Today, we finally decided to give Lucas his first taste of solid food. He was getting so interested in my food that I started to feel like I was teasing a puppy by eating my lunch in front of him. So before I felt like a bad mom who starves her kid, I decided that it was time to put something other than my boob in his mouth.

He was not interested.

And I had enough sense to take his shirt off and put him in a seat that’s easy to clean because I may as well have just stood back and thrown the food all over him. He probably would have eaten the same amount. But it’s not like it matters anyway since he threw it all up 20 minutes later. So maybe we’ll just try again in a few days

Once A Sun Devil…

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I’m not sure if I posted it yet or not, but Angel and I finally got our Michigan license plates in the mail.

A little background- my adorable husband ordered a custom license plate in Arizona saying “GO B1UE” to represent the University of Michigan. So when we moved here, I jokingly told him that if he gets a UofM license plate in Arizona, than I get an ASU plate in Michigan. So that’s exactly what happened. I have to represent the University that gave me both a BS and an MBA so that I can stay home and sew and talk to my baby about his poopy diapers. You know those stories about people with a Masters degree who don’t use it? Yep. Living the dream.

An Open Letter To Huggies Diapers

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Dear Huggies Diaper creator,

If the American Association of Pediatrics still recommends feeding your child more than once a day, then kindly send me the cost of my last load of laundry, the carpet cleaner that I just used, and the bleach wipes that are necessary to clean up what your diapers fail to catch. Every time.

Kindly (and by that I mean “shove your diapers”),

Christina

Playing Catch Up

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So it’s been a few weeks since I posed. As Angel would probably point out to me when I mention that I didn’t have time for something “but you’ve been home all day?” I suppose the boxes containing all of my belongings and a 3 month old baby who now is awake more often than asleep have been zapping all of my time.

So I’m flipping through the photos on my phone to try to remember what I did the last two weeks, and here’s something funny to point out: photos of myself to prove to Angel that I took a shower that day. Welcome to stay-at-home-motherhood!

A few important and note-worthy things about the new house. 1. I made a coffee bar in the kitchen. It hasn’t taken long for Angel to love it as much as I do (thank you, Pinterest), and now we probably spend more time there then anywhere else in the house. Well, at least I do from 9-noon when I’m up with the baby:

Next, Molly has learned that both the front windows are her height and that we have chipmunks in our yard. It’s a loud combination and she’ll sit here by the hour during the day waiting for them:

Next, she’s also learned the new house alarm beeps. In our house in Arizona the beep for the garage door was different but she knew that it meant we were home. In this house there’s no garage door beep, so she’ll wait for him by the front window (above) and then when she sees his car pull into the driveway, she immediately runs to wait by the garage door because DAD’S HOME!

I think it’s pretty adorable.

We finally finished putting up the plastic chicken wire inside our fence since it appears that Molly was small enough to get through the iron picket fence that was there. Now that she has a yard and a bed that she recognizes, I think she’s starting to finally realize that this is now home.

I’ve been unpacking boxes like crazy and still have a few rooms and a basement left. A few days of putting Lucas on the floor so I could unpack boxes to his screaming soundtrack, I decided “screw it” and baby and I spent a day in jammies cuddling in bed that we both deserved:

And as it turned out, Mommy desperately needed the day of baby cuddles and I didn’t realize it until the day was over. I felt guilty for not getting anything that I needed to done, but those baby cuddles aren’t going to be around forever and those boxes are.

Then we hit the road!

Molly freaked out a little more than usual when we pulled out the suitcases to pack, but Angel’s brother came in from Ann Arbor to watch her and she loooooves him! I started packing and got these in the mail:

Which I took as their way of saying “hey, we hear that you’re going to be flying alone with a 3 month old. We’re really sorry about that.”

The three of us went to Arizona for a wedding of two people who’s first date was actually our wedding! We stayed with a couple of our friends in Chandler and the evening of the wedding Lucas had his first babysitter(s)! We had Paul and Michelle babysit for a few hours so that we had our first opportunity away from Lucas since this whole adventure started. It was weird to not have the baby, but it was so nice to have a break for a few hours.

Unfortunately, I had a super short stay in Arizona and I didn’t get to spend nearly enough time with everyone who I wanted to! We got in very late on Thursday night, and I left Saturday afternoon with a wedding in between.

On Saturday morning I convinced Angel to wake up early so that we could go take family photos with Brooke from Keki Photography (if you need a photographer in the Phoenix area, I love her!):

Annnnnnd then I realized that a white patterned scarf over a white shirt makes me look about 20 pounds heavier. Awesome. Anyway though, the photos are adorable and I love my little family!

After a quick lunch with my brother and sister-in-law, Lucas and I were off on our own to Colorado!

I was so nervous to fly by myself with Lucas and so sad to be leaving Arizona without seeing everyone I wanted to or spending as much time with them as I would like that I just started crying when Angel dropped me off. My poopball must have known that I was nervous to fly with him, because as soon as we got on the plane, he curled in his knees and fell asleep in my lap and stayed that way all through the flight and the Denver airport!

He loves his little carrier, which makes my life at least 1,000 times easier.

In Colorado, everyone was excited to see Lucas and I didn’t even have to pick up my own child one time that I was there

Except maybe their dog, who was a little confused why she couldn’t play with the tiny human

Lucas and I got some good naps in during the afternoons when it was quiet. And by the end of the week he started something new: a preference to Mommy. There were a few times that he was fussy while my parents were holding him and then as soon as I took him he was calm. He also couldn’t fall asleep one afternoon until he grabbed onto my hand. Mommy’s not leaving you, little dude!

Since this adorable trend can’t last forever, I started replacing my hand with a security blanket and it seems to do the trick:

That trip was also too short, and I cried when I left Colorado as well. It’s not easy being on my own here. on the way back, I had a layover in St. Paul and was able to pick up another Starbucks mug for my collection

Lucas and I were having a great time in our hour layover. He was sound asleep and I was debating when I should wake him up and give him the bottle that I made because nursing when I’m alone in public I would have to charge admission to to pay the bail when I was arrested for public nudity. And then they announced that our flight was delayed by 2 hours and I called Delta every name in the book (in my head, naturally). Lucas must read my mind because this is the time that he decided to have a public melt down. So I took out the bottle, tried to feed him, and wouldn’t you guess that he chose this time to decide he didn’t want to drink from a bottle anymore. I kept trying because it’s not like I could just whip out a boob there at the gate, but Lucas kept screaming like I was killing him and everyone started looking at me and thinking “Oh my God, I hope I’m not sitting net to her.” Screw you all, seriously. He’s a very good child current tantrum aside.

There was nowhere in that airport to feed him, so I ended up sitting on the floor of the family restroom for 20 minutes feeding my child. Ugh. And gross. Those are the words that come to mind.

But after he ate, he was his adorable self again and I put his blanket on the floor of the gate area and let him lay there and play with his toys while everyone looked at me like “There’s a mom that has her shit together!” Or something equally flattering, I imagine.

Once I was home, life got back to normal. Lucas didn’t think he was as adorable as I did in his Mickey onesie:

And that just made me laugh. So like a good mom I took pictures of him screaming at me and sent them to my mom and Angel and anyone else who I thought would appreciate them and not call CPS on me.

I asked Angel to unpack his closet and he asks me “What’s left to unpack?” I appreciate that he doesn’t see messes, that’s really going to come in handy as soon as our munchkin puts momentum behind his movements

For one last photo for the post, I was unpacking the craft room that I negotiated in the move and it was nap time for Lucas. So I put him on the little futon in the room and went about my business and a few minutes later Molly found a spot for her afternoon nap as well. Dog: Man’s best friend.There’s just so much adorableness going on in that picture, I’m not sure where to start.

So that’s what I’ve been up to according to my iPhone photo album.

Haha

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I seriously hope I feel like this one day because right now I’m totally the “first time mom” woman who is fumbling under the blanket and secretly hoping that no one notices. But most of the time I just give up and bring a bottle with me so that I’m NOT that woman.

History Repeats Itself

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Hm…. Where to start?

First, my adorable baby apparently doesn’t want to be set down tonight, so I had to start this blog post 4 different times before I could actually get writing. And now I write this

I’m sorry, what was I saying?

Yes, that I’ve had to start this post 5 times because I keep stopping to try to make Lucas fall asleep.

Yep, 6th time’s the charm….

Sometimes it takes 7 starts to a

I digress…. And I also think I have at least 4 minutes to collect my thoughts this time

Nope, sure didn’t.

Okay then, so this week I think I finally got into the groove of being a stay at home mom.

Aww, that’s cute. There was a 20 minute pause between that last sentence and writing the rest of my blog because Lucas decided that he was hungry and I had to feed him. So let’s talk about nursing for a minute, shall we? It’s been going much better since we moved to Michigan. Mostly because I’m lazy, partially because I don’t have the resources readily available that I did in Arizona, but really mostly because I’m lazy, Lucas has been nursing 100% of the time. I haven’t gone near a pump or a bottle in about 2 weeks. In fact, I have no milk in the fridge because I had to put it all in the freezer or throw it out (and cry) because he hasn’t had a bottle in so long. Yay me! (And maybe a little bit Lucas). But I still call “BS” on books, people, and lactation specialists who make it sound like nursing feels like magical unicorns giving you hugs while you sip Mai Tais on the beach. It’s more like dangling it in a tank of piranhas who haven’t eaten in a week. What I wouldn’t give to be able to strap off my boobs, throw them in his crib, and get a good night’s sleep!!

Yesterday I took a shower (because I promised Angel that I would) and took Lucas to Target to get a sewing machine and then to the fabric store to get fabric for burp cloths and blankets. Why? BECAUSE I’M BORED! The fabric store was in the loveliest part of town: located between the Salvation Army and a couple of pawn shops (see: “Crap Castle”). The trip was even complete with two moms screaming at each other that the other was a “ho” in front of their children. Sweet, right? My mom apparently did the same thing when she moved a young family to California, so I have that in common with her, and that’s fine by me.

Sorry, another pause to read a Dr. Seuss favorite to Lucas and put him to bed, so don’t mind me if the next little bit of my blog post rhymes and has made up names that you’re not sure you’re pronouncing correctly but then it’s not like there’s an audience you’re reading to who knows any different, so feel free to skip a few pages to speed this bedtime up.

Anyway, what was I saying? Something about history repeating itself and I unknowingly did what my mom did when she was in my position.

Now that Lucas is in bed, I promise to have the rest of this post won’t be as scatter-brained as I think I’ve proved that I now live my life by.

So anyway, I was sewing these burp cloths all day yesterday just because it seemed more productive then watching more murder mystery shows on daytime TV:

I’ve gotten into the habit of not waking up until 10am, mostly because I don’t work and Lucas still lets me sleep. Last night I put Lucas to bed an hour late, so instead of eating at 7am and going back to sleep until 10, he ate at 8 and then daddy kept him awake while he was getting ready for work (grrrrrrr). So right after daddy left for work, I snuck another man into my bed. And by the grin on his face, he knew he didn’t belong there:

So after I decided that there was no sleeping through those giggles, I got out of bed to make coffee and run some errands but quickly changed those plans when I looked outside to find that my perfectly clean and snow free car looked like this this morning:

Angel was nice enough to clean off half of it when he left for work, but I secretly think he only did it to say “now you have no excuse for not changing out of sweat pants and leaving the house” but the joke it totally on him because I didn’t change out of sweats, and instead sat on the couch all morning with Lucas watching paternity test results on Maury:

Lucas gets very into finding out if the ho is telling the truth or not.

Angel probably knew the car stunt wouldn’t guarantee him that both Lucas and I would bathe today, so he sent me a text message about 10am saying “for dinner tonight do you want to” and then I honestly didn’t read the rest before I answered “yes!” I’m just glad he followed it up with “go to dinner in downtown Kalamazoo” and not “cook me a 7 course meal complete with lobster tail” So by 5 o’clock this evening, I was so excited at the idea of putting on jeans and going on a date that I had Lucas fed, bathed, and dressed and Molly pottied and in her cage, and I was in clothes that were clean and my hair was curled. Curled people! I don’t think you understand how excited that means I was.

We dug out my car, drove out of our crap castle, and went into town to a nice European restaurant. No idea what European food is? It’s like heaven when it means that I didn’t have to cook it. He even took me to grab a glass of wine before dinner where 2 ladies (one who works in OB) guessed that Lucas was either 2 weeks or 6 weeks old and were totally floored when we told them he was 3 months next week. Then came the famous follow up question that I get every time I leave the house: “Was he a preemie?” Nope, I fully baked my tiny baby. The manager at the restaurant mentioned that we had a “very well behaved baby” which is great to hear since he was being exceptionally fussy tonight at dinner and we were in an establishment that probably only had high chairs because they were legally required to and not because anyone brings children there. But “yeah, this one’s on the boob so he can pretty much go anywhere” (name that movie! *Sweet Home Alabama*).

When we got home, Angel and Lucas had a moment. When the two of them start smiling at each other, I hardly care that the guy living above us is running in place to bad techno music while he washes laundry at 11pm. I kid, I totally still care, but this is pretty adorable:

The first week of staying home was interesting. I may be the only person in this town who doesn’t shop at Goodwill and can afford to wash my jeans on a regular basis, and I get people whispering to each other when I grocery shop at my local Wal-Mart (that is seriously my only grocery store option around here. Fried food, anyone?) regarding my Coach diaper bag and clean hair. 9 days, 2 Kindle books, and 6 burp cloths later, I had a total melt down to Angel one evening about how I hated this place and he can’t move me out of here fast enough and I can’t stay in the house all day every day and I need to make friends.

To prove my point, I sent Angel a text message this afternoon that said “I just finished up sewing a baby blanket with matching burp cloth. I’m about to start sewing a new bedding set for our bedroom if you don’t help find me friends stat” He wrote back with a phone number and said “call this number immediately” for the phone number of a mom’s group leader.

Next week’s goal: adult interaction. I don’t care if it takes mom groups, extreme shopping, or jail. Mark my words that next week I’ll talk to someone who doesn’t speak 2 month old in a venue that requires me to put on pants.

Crazy going slowly am I.

TGIS

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TGIF? Screw that. I still have to wake up in the middle of the night, change 1,000 diapers, go to the grocery store, cook, clean, and have dinner ready by 6. How about TGIS when I have a hubby who takes the baby into the family room to play at 8am and lets me sleep until 11. Now that’s something to be thankful for!

Here’s what my new normal looks like in photo montage:

1. Wake up the sleeping beast

2. Get screamed at while I attempt to change a dirty diaper and get the baby dressed

3. Feed the baby

4. Baby peed in the process so change his diaper again

5. Time for morning cuddles. Eating is a lot of work (creepy sleeping but awake eyes)

6. (No photo) Mommy has 30 minutes to shower before the baby wakes up

7. Time pauses for a while because the baby is smiling. Everything else can wait

8. Use the phrase "dig out" in reference to your vehicle

8. Use the phrase “dig out” in reference to my vehicle

9. Bundle up the baby

10. After all of this is done, I have roughly 30 minutes of sleepy baby (as long as I don’t try to take him out of his car seat) before he starts screaming and it’s time to start this whole process over. Realize that you can’t get anything done in 30 minutes. Turn off the car, don’t dare touch the sleeping baby, and enjoy 30 minutes of peeing in peace, brushing my teeth in peace, pretending like I was ambitious enough to read (in peace), and picking up after the baby. In peace.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Thankful

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Today I came across two women who are desperately trying to have a baby and thus far have been unsuccessful. It serves as a reminder to me how lucky I am to have my son. I came to this revelation between his screaming in my ear while I was trying to burp him, and his throwing up on me after he burped. And you know what? I still feel lucky.

I also feel extremely thankful for the opportunity to stay home with my little man for at least the next few years. I always planned on going back to work because I never thought that I would be able to afford to stay home, and I feel lucky that I have the chance to stay home now. Now that my little guy is 2 months old, I can’t wrap my head around paying someone else to enjoy all of the fun firsts that are coming, see him smile, and play with him while I go to my marginally pleasing job.

In more lighthearted news, today I had another “Sorry about that, Mom” moment while I was at the mall with Lucas purchasing jeans that fit the new body that he gave me. I’ve been living 8 weeks in sweat pants and leggings and have decided that that’s not going to fly in Michigan where it’s a little bit colder. So I threw in the towel, went through my pre-pregnancy jeans, and gave away the American Eagle jeans that were made for girls who don’t have hips (I don’t fall into this classification anymore). My tummy may still go back to the flat that I once knew, but those hips are here for the long haul. While I was trying my jeans on to see which ones I can keep, I realized that a lot of the low rise jeans that I had weren’t made for a mom who constantly bends down to pick up a baby, a baby in a car seat, a pacifier that the baby threw on the floor, or to retie my shoes (What? Not everything in my life is “baby.” I still have my shoelaces). So I’m keeping this and my muffin top in mind when I’m out looking for jeans and end up with two of the most attractive “Mom Jeans” that Dillards sells. Don’t know what “Mom Jeans” are? I suggest you watch more old Saturday Night Live, or just check out this:

http://www.nbc.com/saturday-night-live/video/mom-jeans/1357040/

“Give her something that says ‘I’m not a woman anymore. I’m a mom!‘”

I used to make fun of my mom for these, and now this is totally my life! Thanks to my adorable baby, I have an ass that rappers love to sing about and the option to show plumbers crack or leave the pacifier on the floor of the store as another casualty of the situation.

The jean situation reminded me of this week’s Modern Family episode where the older daughter is babysitting the young son on New Year’s Eve. The boy invites a girl over and when the daughter kicks the girl out of the house, the son storms away and the daughter yells after him “Some day you’ll thank me for this!!….. Oh my God. I owe Mom a big apology.”

I have a feeling that I’m going to feel this way more and more for at least the next 18 years. Starting with my new Mom Jeans with a waistband so high that I can tuck in both my rapper ass and my hazardous boobs (because those took up a new home somewhere just north of my belt).

Babies are adorable so that we don’t eat our young because let’s be honest here- if he wasn’t cute, none of this would be worth it.

I’m going to go change out of my puke stained pajamas now and cross my fingers for 4 hours of sleep.

He’s lucky he’s cute.

This sleepy hug rights all of the wrongs

Hurricane Angel

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Okay, you remember me telling you all about how I won Mom of the Year by ignoring my screaming baby to vacuum and clean my house with my ipod? Yeah, I was able to keep the house spotless, dishes washed, and have it ready to be shown to potential renters at a moments notice. ALL WITH A SICK BABY. No problem.

Until Friday night when Hurricane Angel blew through town.

I appreciated the help and having him back. And he appreciated the baby which was perfect because by Saturday morning I was ready to tap out. I actually left the house alone and it was ah-mazing. And then I took a nap, read a book… and no I’m totally kidding. But I was able to leave the house alone and it felt like vacation not having to carry around 8 pounds of baby in a 15 pound car seat being pushed by a 10 pound stroller.

On Saturday night Laura was in town so we went over to a friend’s house to see her. And because Lucas doesn’t really know the difference between 3pm and 3am yet, we took him along with. When we got home at 11pm, we put him to bed and I swear to you he slept from midnight to 7am straight and I couldn’t believe it when he woke me up and the sun was coming up. It was a refreshing change from stumbling for the light switch at 4am while screaming curse words.

On the topic of curse words, Angel and I decided that we were going to copy what our friends do with their daughter. She’s only 9 months old, but they have decided that they need to change their vocabulary and have a swear jar and for every bad word they throw $0.50 into the jar that gets deposited into her college fund. Luckily for our bank account, we decided to wait to implement this until after the move because I would hate to owe my baby that much money right off the bat.

Today when we were getting ready to take Angel to the airport, Lucas had the diaper blow out that we’ve all been waiting for. We cleaned him up, changed him, and about 15 minutes later I could smell him from across the house. So we cleaned him up, changed him, and went to the airport. After Hurricane Angel blew out of town and I returned to the dwelling that was once my organized house, Lucas blew out diaper number 3. At this point, painter’s drop cloths in my family room would be appropriate but instead my poor dog is hiding somewhere in the house far, far away from the explosions going on down south in the land of Lucas. I don’t blame her, I’m actually a little jealous that she doesn’t have to deal with this.

That’s it for tonight. I need to get some dinner and then bundle up because it’s been freezing (literally) all weekend. I had to turn the sprinklers off because they iced over my sidewalk. It’s been in the 20’s at night and 40’s or 50’s during the day and my heater broke. Luckily the one upstairs in the bedrooms still worked, so Lucas and I spent most of last week in our rooms and the loft until I figured out how to light the pilot light on the fireplace in the family room. Before you judge- we live in Phoenix so fireplaces here are totally asthetic and we’ve never used it in as long as we’ve lived in this house. We probably still wouldn’t use it if I had heat downstairs.

I can smell my son, so it’s probably time to stop typing and go change the plastic cover on the sofa because I am a classy lady.