Category Archives: Afternoon Humor

22 Weeks

Poor second baby.  I call this post 22 weeks, but I’m nearly a week late.  Let’s use our imagination, shall we?



Baby is:

  • 22 weeks.  Websites vary on the estimated size of the 3rd boy in my life (!!) so I listed them in the photo and then took some liberties with the estimations myself.  Doesn’t a foot long sub sound like something that I need to shove in my face the second I’m done posting this?  I honestly think so, too.
  • Kicking.  He’s made the transitions through “I can’t wait for the baby to kick.” to “Ooo, how cool is this?!” to “Please stop kicking me in the ribs.”
  • Getting taste buds and nerve endings.  I suppose those are important senses.

I am:

  • A whale.  I’m pretty sure that my pants stopped fitting roughly 20 minutes after I peed on that damn test.  They say that you show faster the second time and I’m here to tell you that that is, in fact, true.  It’s like this ball of cells started to split and my body was all like “HELL YEAH!! I remember this!!” and instantly took on the figure of my 9 month pregnant self.  I may be exaggerating,  but the feeling is real.

Oh, the memories:

  • Pregnancy insomnia.  I thought I was lucking out with this one and still able to sleep through most nights without bathroom breaks.  But last night I woke up at 2am and have been awake ever since.  I’m so tired.
  • Awesome finger nails.  I bit them all off out of boredom this morning while watching infomercials, but you’re going to have to trust me that they were there until then.
  • The need to nest.  We’ve already ordered the crib and dresser and I’m making Angel drive a Uhaul to Grand Rapids tomorrow to pick it up because OHMYGOD if I don’t have a crib set up immediately than it will never get done.  I think Angel appreciates this phase of pregnancy the best because his To Do list blows up and my nagging is on threat level extreme.  He’s so lucky to have me.

What the hell:

  • Acid reflux.  I remember it very clearly, but not until third trimester and I’m still a few weeks away from there and I’m already through my first bottle of Tums.  Insider trading tip: invest in Tums.  I know what’s coming.
  • I itch.  Like crazy.  I’m a walking ball of oily hormones and I want to scratch my skin off.
  • Cravings.  If it’s sugar, I want it.  Last month I came home from Costco with a box of 36 bags of skittles, at which point Angel deemed me unfit to go to Costco unsupervised.

I suppose this is the best time to tell you how this  little adventure began.  We were in San Diego for my best friend’s wedding and I suspected that my alcohol consumption was about to be hindered so I took a pregnancy test before heading to the rehearsal but then totally forgot about it (poor second baby.  I forgot about him before I knew about him).  So when I came back later to see a faint second line, I was the person who wasn’t sure if it was real or because it had been sitting there all morning.  To eliminate the confusion we stopped at the store on our way to the venue for digital tests.  I had just chugged a bunch of water since I was running around so it came back “-NO” and I cautiously enjoyed adult beverages for the weekend.  The morning after the wedding Lucas woke me up on east coast time so while I was half asleep watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and packing to drive up to Disneyland I took the second digital test and did a double take when it said “+YES”.  So I woke up Angel with my pee (true love), and he looked at Lucas and said “You have 9 months to get out of diapers.” and now here we are, 22 weeks into it.

Keeping pregnancy a secret through first trimester is like trying to function normally with the flu that you can’t tell anyone you have. Pair that with holiday parties and I looked like a total alcoholic to my friends here.  I kept saying that I wasn’t drinking because I was so hung over from the night before which explained the look on my face, running to the bathroom, and volunteering to be DD.  No friends, I wasn’t really hung over every day of December.  That would have been more fun.

Hormones, y’all.  When they woke me up at 2am to go to the bathroom and then watch infomercials, around 4am I found myself crying into a jar of pickles.

Over watching Toy Story.

I’m so pregnant.


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Stop! Family Time!

I can’t believe that one short day after I vowed to keep up my blog I missed. But I swear to the internet that I posted yesterday in my head. Unfortunately, it looks like none of that actually made it to the WordPress app. My brain apologizes.

Happy Day 52:

I finished crafting my mantle. Disregard the wall color, soooo not my choice and clearly doesn’t match any decor in our house. Mmm…. Pea soup.

Happy Day 53:
A family selfie from the beach of Traverse City at sunset. Not pictured is Molly in my lap. We all made it up here and look forward to some awesome family time this weekend thanks to the surprise of my awesome husband for booking the hotel this weekend and planning our Michigan Wine Country getaway!


Enjoy your families this weekend everyone! And don’t forget to call your moms and dads and tell them sorry for throwing a fit when they took you to dinner on vacation. They swear, they thought you liked chicken.

46, 47, 48- Oh My!

Sorry I haven’t posted the last few days, my toddler has had a raging case of toddler…





For Day 46: p


We got Lucas a water table and he L.O.V.E.S. It!

Day 47: crafts



That raging case of toddler that I mentioned? It’s not just limited to the dinner table.


There’s no crying in Hobby Lobby!

And day 48: this dude just cracks me up. In this photo, he’s as close to the TV as possible watching Mickey Mouse with his hand so far down his diaper that it’s coming off. He walked around the room to play after this with some serious plumbers crack while I just laughed and laughed. Boys- it’s nature.


Cheers! It’s finally summer in the Midwest



The Happiness Project

I’m 41 days into my “100 Happy Days” spin-off project and I’m happy (pun intended) to report that it’s working.  I’m less bitter, smiling more, and getting my sense of humor back.  Conveniently, this is just in time for the “Terrible Two’s” to strike the Rivas household…. with gusto.

I’m not going to publicly shame my kid but I will say that he doesn’t share this sentiment.  His favorite word is “nonononononono” while shaking his head and if it’s something he has to do like be put into a shopping cart or get his finger out of the plug it’s “NOOOOOO” in the loudest screech possible by questionably human toddlers.  His favorite move is the back twist to get away from you picking him up and then he immediately throws himself on the ground and cries and thrashes like I’m trying to hit him with a baseball bat and he needs to get away from me.  I tell you this all because I want to warn anyone who may cross paths with me anywhere that I’m really not chasing my toddler down with a baseball bat or leaving him in the donation pile at Goodwill, I’m just doing my best to raise a polite member of society so please watch your feet because he’s likely throwing a fit on the floor in the process of this quest.  His favorite places to throw fits:

1. The grocery store.  No, you may not play with the chili seasoning, the milk must stay in the cart, that wine bottle is not for you.

2. The parking lot.  I’m not going to take your sippy cup away from you, it is necessary for you to be in the car seat, I don’t have a ball that you can play with.

3. In the rain. I can’t stop the rain from hitting your head, nonono don’t throw a fit- ….on the wet ground.

4. On playdates.  Can you hurry this one up, sweetie?  Mommy has to run to the grocery store to get rice and I would really appreciate if you save it for the onlookers there.


For all of you judgmental folks who are giving me looks like I need to peel my kid off of the grocery store floor because this is more my fault than his or all of you readers who have never had a toddler and are sitting there thinking “my kid would never do that.”  Let me set the record straight: Yes, yes they will.  But I promise to not give you the same looks that you’re giving me.  I’ll instead mask my disgust with your toddler by looking at my well behaved child and saying “Oh, I’m so lucky that you never did that!”


This is why mom’s drink.


Anyway, I’m a few days behind on my happiness posts.  Yesterday it was our Special Wednesday (which was a trip to Barnes and Noble to play with Legos because it was cold and rainy):

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And today it was just having fun at the dinner table making this ball of joy giggle.  Lucas will never have a better Mom than me (even when I let him throw his fits in public).

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Happiness Unplugged

I left the house all afternoon without my phone, this should prove to you when I say that I’ve been a little “unplugged” lately. I’ve read 2 kindle books, taken my kiddo to lunch and get cupcakes, and done some sewing, all without my phone. I was so used to not checking things that going to bed last night I knew I had something going on today but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what and was just waiting for the “where are you?!” Phone call. It came. Twice.

So anyway, on Saturday, we went to Livonia (a suburb of Detroit). We went to the state’s nicest mall and walked around for a while, took my computer to the Microsoft store (read: “teach me how to use this. Don’t judge me.”) and then went to a fun dinner before heading over to Angel’s college friend’s house for a party. It was all so much fun!


On Sunday, we came home and did nothing. Yep, nothing. I let the dishes pile up, we had leftovers, and we all hung out in the family room while I read on my kindle until it died and then I read on my kindle app on the phone. I didn’t take any photos because no one showered or got dressed. You’re welcome.

Yesterday I made tacos for cinco de mayo, finally cleaned my kitchen, and finished my kindle book. We also tried (and failed) at our first attempt to put Lucas in a toddler bed. You win this round, kid.

I took Lucas to the store after the world’s worst toddler nap to pick up stuff for tacos. The only way he would stay calm was if he sat in the basket of the cart and played with the can of beans and the box of rice. Pick your battles.


Today, I took Lucas to lunch downtown Kalamazoo with Heather and her daughter. Then we got awesome cupcakes and I went home because I had pushed nap time by about 2 hours at this point. On my way home to put Lucas to bed he fell asleep in the car. To anyone with a toddler who wakes up the instant that you move him and never goes back to sleep and then melts down and screams all evening: take my lead. Roll the window down, grab a folding chair and beer, and tailgate nap time


Days 21 and 22

I was having too much fun enjoying myself yesterday to stop and blog. So here’s yesterday’s happy thing(s): a new haircut and another Special Wednesday with my 20 pound boyfriend at the children’s museum.





And for today’s happy thing, I just found this online and love it. It’s a really quick read by a humor mommy blogger as an answer to someone’s rather rude post to her regarding her body: A Letter To Anyone Unhappy With Their Body

It never hurts to have a reminder that we’re awesome just the way that we are.

Smile on, friends.


My poor sidekick hasn’t gotten a break on the teething front.  It’s been one right after the other and his stupid teeth spent some time going up and down (and up and down, and up and down, and I think you get the idea) looking for the most annoying way to make their final appearance.  So I’ve spent the better part of 2 weeks keeping my son high as a kite on baby Tylenol and Oragel.  Right when the teething stopped, we lost a nap and spent a week learning how to live on a 2 nap schedule, which Lucas has decided is just as annoying as his teeth.  I think he’s done giving me a teeny, tiny middle finger every nap time and he’s back to slobbering like a rabid dog.  So one can conclude that angering Mommy is his entertainment every day, or a third tooth is on its way in that teeny, tiny mouth of his.

In the midst of this teething fest, we took Lucas to the beach and into the lake.  It was soooo much fun, but unfortunately was extremely windy so the sand became little death pellets that I had to shield Lucas from.  Other then that, he loved the water and Daddy was laughing with him in the waves, which melts my little Mommy heart.  You know what else melts my heart?  This face and those sunglasses!


I miss the days that Lucas was in a car seat and would just sleep when we took him to dinner with us.  Those days are quickly becoming a faint memory.  If I leave him in his car seat now he flips out on me and when he’s in a high chair or cart that really only lasts about 30 seconds before he wants to be held or to eat or to be entertained.  It really makes things more difficult and our restaurant choices down to just loud bars with high chairs (see: Buffalo Wild Wings).  I used to take him to dinner, set him on a seat, and never hear a peep out of him thinking that I didn’t understand why all of these parents said it was so hard to go out with children.  And then Lucas learned how to scream and I started carrying around a plethora of toys in my diaper bag and cringing at the thought of being in quiet places.


On Friday night Angel’s coworker offered to babysit Lucas for the night and who are we to pass up some free babysitting?  May God strike down anyone who passes up free babysitting.  So Angel took me to dinner a movie.  Last time we went on a real date like that, I had Lucas 9 months later.  After Despicable Me 2 and some sushi rolls, we went to Target to get baby formula and wine and rolled our eyes at the parents who’s children were throwing a fit in the toy aisle.  Haha, suckers.

We’re in the land of solid foods.  He wants to eat the peaches right out of our hands



Watermelon, avocado, ground turkey- he’s on it.  And I imagine that I’ll stop worrying about him choking on his food 6 years from never.  It’s best to feed him while totally naked and right before bath time on a tile floor.  Little man is meeeeeeessssssssssy!!

He probably got 2 of these into his mouth.  3 max.

He probably got 2 of these into his mouth. 3 max.


Last night Angel went to the Taste of Kalamazoo with some old college friends, and since I have a 13 pound sidekick with an 8:30 bedtime I agreed to stay home and implement an 8:30 bedtime for Momma.  I’m not sure when my fear of the night developed because I spent years living alone, but somewhere along the way I started freaking out when the sun goes down.  There’s no way that sound coming from the freezer is the ice maker.  It’s someone who froze ice cubes in their own freezer, broke into my house, and went to fill my ice maker before he comes upstairs to KILL ME.  Clearly. And I don’t believe in ghosts but when the sun goes down I’m a little bit more open minded.

And in my blogging hiatus, my little dude turned 8 months old.  High five for successfully keeping him happy and healthy for 8 months!  (I’ve pretty much given up on monthly photos at this point because this is all I get)

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At one point, my little man threw a 20 minute fit because I put clothes on him, thinking that it was too cold to let him keep playing in just a diaper.  He totally disagreed, and was crawling all over the floor screaming, crying, and throwing himself on the ground.  I was holding out to let him finish because really, who’s the adult here?  But you can’t win them all, so I gave up and took his clothes back off and he instantly got quiet and started smiling.  Yeah, well, don’t get used to this.  You won’t always get your way



I can’t complain though.  My little sidekick is happy and healthy and absolutely adorable

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I may be biased.


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.