Auto Talk

Alright folks, here's my rant for the day. So I watched a news clip today about what women want in vehicles. It was an overview of the New York Auto Show, and some of the new concept cars yet to come out. Accessories included: drink coolers in the glove box, adjustable foot pedals for the vertically challenged (ok, so for me that's pretty cool) and DVD players for each child's seat. These were just a few that they mentioned. After my moment of awe passed, admiring how far technology has come, I suddenly moved into very disturbed. One of the mother's comments in the clip about her children's individual DVD players in their minivan was, "the children rule our house, and when they're happy, we're happy." Since when do the children rule the house? And why do children need lack of conversation and video entertainment to achieve happiness? What happened to parenting the children, instead of children running the show? It seems our children today our being raised by TV, video games, and artificial baby sitters. I'm not saying that these things aren't okay in moderation. But I recall in my childhood days the encouragement of imagination. Playing the alphabet game, singing songs, or just plain old conversation while riding in the car. Some of the best life lessons I was taught as a child was riding in the car with my best friend Mindy. Her mom was always driving us around, and seemed to always have something new to teach us. Some of the best conversations we had were in their giant brown Suburban. I remember things like travel Bingo, checkers, slug bug, etc. Things we'd play as a family instead of each person in their own personal theater. I venture to wonder if most children even know how to play make believe anymore. I wouldn't be the person I am today without our childhood playhouse out in the backyard, or playing dress-up, pretending I was a Gypsy. We didn't need video games and DVD players. I know that my rant does not apply to everyone out there, so only wear the shoe if it fits. I'm just trying to figure out how children ever survived without wipe warmers, Wii play stations and bottled nursery water. The world of convenience that our society has created is absolutely mind boggling. I suppose next technology will come up with a remote to fast forward our children through their teen years, so we wont have to deal with it. (Hmmmmm, maybe I'm onto something!) I guess my point is, at no time have I ever heard "Raising a child is a breeze! Easiest thing I've ever done!" So why do we keep trying to find a way to make it so? Parenting is hard. But by not parenting, it will only become harder. So spend some time with your children! Whip out a board game, read a book together, or just plain sit down with a snack and chit chat! In this whirlwind of busy times, you will look back and cherish that car conversation far more than looking in the rear view mirror at little Janey/Johnny watching their own personal DVD.

TIP OF THE DAY: Talk to your children, they just might have something to say.

Stages Of Life

This last week has flown by in a whirlwind of events. I turned 31, attended a bridal shower, bachelorette party and baby shower, all in the last 7 days. When I finally had a spare moment, I took a few minutes to talk to my best friend Mindy. In all the chaos and craziness of trying to participate in everyday life as well as raise my 8 month old, it dawned on me. I'm 31.....oh my god!! I'm 31! Then just when I realized I was a year older, my beloved Mindy states, "You're not just 30 anymore, you're actually IN your 30's!" At the time we giggled at our comedic selves (we often think we're funnier than we really are) but when I hung up the phone it started to sink in. 31? How could this be? Didn't I just turn 21? It seems like yesterday I was getting my license, waiting to turn 18, and then just dying to hit the golden 21. And now here I am. Married, with the house, the two dogs and my first baby. What happened? When did I grow up? It's so scary to me to see how quickly our lives change, and pass us by if we let it. For a split second, I was so sad. Reminiscing in all those silly teenage times and mischief I caused as a young adult. Yes, those were good times. But in my brief moment of sadness, I heard my baby Brianna with her giddy baby babble. As I smiled in pride at my genius of a child, it hit me. Yes, it's true those were good times. But these? These my friends are GREAT times. I may now be 31, but am having the time of my life. So far things have only gotten better as I've gotten older. Hopefully this trend will continue. If that's the case.....then with passion and excitement I say, "look out 40 here I come!!"

TIP OF THE DAY: Don't be afraid to stand in the spotlight, it's your time to shine!

Morning Glory

Halle-freakin-luiah! There is a God! As most of you know I'm the one who gets up with Brianna every night, due to my husband's occupation as a police officer. Not only do I get up every night, but I am up every 2-3 hours throughout the night for the local dairy feedings. It has started taking quite a toll on me, which is probably why it is difficult to muster up energy to find my way out of my PJ tee throughout the day. In addition to the complete lethargy, my complexion is looking a little, okay a lot, exhausted. The circles under my eyes, have gone from dark to darker, and my mother finds herself humorous in nicknaming me "Rocky Racoon." Just as we seem to say to ourselves, " I can't go another night, I'm exhausted." Somehow that secret pocket of limited energy (or sleepwalking as I call it) manages to get us through one more night. Just when I think I'm going to die from exhaustion, and am running on fumes, miraculously I keep going. Then.....there was last night. The holy night, the sacred night, the night that the baby slept the entire night! The entire blissful night!! I woke up several times during the night in a complete state of panic, realizing she had not awoken. Was something wrong? Was she alright? I ran into her room throughout the night to check and make sure she was breathing, confirming that she was okay. Not only was she okay, but she was sound asleep! Could this be the turn around? Another milestone of sleeping through the night? One could only hope! Although, how is it that she finally sleeps through the night, and I'm still getting up every 3 hours to check on her? Is this some kind of mommy joke, that you veterans forgot to tell us about? As excited as I am to possibly see some extra Z's in my future, it saddens me that this is all going so fast. It is so true when people tell you that they grow right before your eyes. It seems as everyday there is something new she is doing or learning and this first year is going by in a flash. I'm so blessed with her growth as a person, and my growth as a zombie, I mean mommy. So keep your fingers crossed all, and hopefully we will have another peaceful night.

TIP OF THE DAY: When the rooster crows, throw a rock at him.

A Party Fit For A Princess

All right ladies, I must share a story about a birthday party I attended this last weekend. It was my friend Jen’s daughter who just turned one. To give you a little background, Jen has four beautiful children. However, the first three are all boys. She loves them dearly but since the day I met her, she has longed for a little girl. This is a woman who has known her entire life, all she wanted was to be a mommy. And boy did she get her wish x 4. She was so excited with each pregnancy, wondering if God would bless her with a boy or a girl. Well, as I stated earlier she repeatedly heard that blessed statement, "it's a boy!" Not once, not twice, but thrice! Three times was NOT a lady for Mommy Jen. After the third boy, there was a small sadness for Jen. Not because she wasn't thankful for her wonderful boys, but because let's face it.....the poor woman was drowning in testosterone and loads of blue colored laundry! Then the announcement came, our Jenny was pregnant again! (For those who know our Jenny, this was pretty standard over these last years. Kudos to Daddy Adam!) We were all sick with anticipation. Could this be it? Could this be the innie vs. outie we've all been waiting for? Well guess what, Mommy Jen received that glorious news. Queen Jen (who truly lives up to her name) was going to be blessed with her princess! After years of boy themed clothes, games, birthday parties, etc. It was time for female revenge. Princess Myah's (Jen's one year old daughter) 1st birthday party! I have never in all my life, seen such a beautiful sight of bejeweled decor for such a party. The house was raving in femininity, glowing with perfect shades of pink and green. The inside was pinker than the pink on a crayola crayon! Mind you to even get into the house, you had to walk through the hanging jewels on the front entrance. Which was just the beginning! There were decorations everywhere, adorned with hand placed rhinestones! There were Myah shrines throughout the home, with pictures of her throughout the year and all accented with jewels of course! There were four different birthday hats for baby, two of which were tiaras. I would expect nothing less for princess Myah! As you looked around in awe of the fabulous surroundings of girl power, I spot them.....more jewels! Jewels hand placed on the table cloths, wall decor, high chair decorations and even in the polka-dots of her pink favor boxes. And I do mean in EVERY polka-dot of these terrific boxes! Jen had done three wonderful 1st birthday parties decked out in boy themes, but this time her knack for event decorating truly shined. The ambiance of pink and green mini pails filled with jewels and tea lights, along with sparkles everywhere reminded me of when I was a little girl. Playing with dolls, dressing up, and loving anything sparkly. Okay, I admit I still love anything sparkly! Needless to say the party was fabulous dahlings! I am so excited and glad to be a part of watching Jen create this wonderful family. She is an awesome mom to both her boys and baby girl. With that said, I gotta tell ya ladies......in regards to this party, I think we've been outdone!

TIP OF THE DAY: Ladies, be careful of your princesses. They will dethrone you someday.

Baby Steps

In my new motivation for encouraging myself to start getting out more, I'm attending a group called MOPS. It stands for Mother's of Preschoolers, and so far has been an absolute blessing and saviour. They provide nursery care, while you get together with other mothers, have some potluck lunch, and discuss family issues while keeping our faith on track. Every other session there is either a speaker or a craft. Needless to say it is a great outlet for meeting new people going through and having gone through exactly what I am as a new mom. Today was my 4th meeting that I have attended and I had made up my mind that this was going to be the meeting I put Brianna (my 7 month old baby girl) in the nursery. Although, keep in mind I have said this for the last couple of meetings now. But I hadn't yet been able to muster up the courage to be without her. You see, because as I mentioned in my previous post, that she will only breastfeed, I have never been away from my sweet angel. And so the thought of not being with her is still very scary. Normally I just hold her throughout our gathering, with some relief from the wonderful mentor moms. But I knew, that if I kept this up, I would wind up with a seriuos hip monkey with giant seperation anxiety. Possibly me more than her, on the latter of the two. So, today was the day. With confidence and determination, I took the baby to the nursery, and the wonderful women in the nursery were eager to take my adorable baby girl donned in pink. It seemed so fast. Shouldn't there be some sort of goodbye ceremony? Maybe some brief counseling for the mama? Something? So I headed to my table to revel in my first "alone time" experience. I should've been ecstatic, exuberant right? A break from the baby! Finally! And then in what should've been a joyous moment, I was asked one of those extremely deep and meaningful questions. "How are you?" One of the moms asks in a kind greeting. That's it, that's all it took. The tears came. I explained that this was the first time I was putting the baby in the nursery for our meeting, and I was having hard time. Thank god, they were so empathetic and compassionate, because I felt like a blubbering nutball. They told me it was normal, and I'm not the only one, and with their kind words and hugs, was able to pull myself together and take a breath. I mean really, you would've thought I was never going to see Brianna again! When in reality, she was 30 feet away from me in the nursery. Of which I checked on approximately every 5 mins. throughout the entire meeting. It wound up that she was an absolute angel in the nursery, and content as could be with the wonderful nursery attendants. I was so proud of my baby girl, but then I had sudden feelings of confusion. I didn't know whether or not to be happy she did so well with the attendants, or feel sad that she did so well without me. The conclusion I decided to come to, is all of them. For I'm sure the feelings of sadness of being without her, will last just until she starts movin' and a shakin'. And then I foresee in the future that I will be pleading with the nursery attendants in a state of insanity, "please can't you keep her a little longer?!" As I sit enjoying my free time without her. I'm not there yet, but I trust all you wiser more experienced mothers with toddlers, and believe you when you say exhaustingly, "don't worry you'll get there. TRUST me." Today was yet another milestone for me, with many more to come. Although, have the kleenex supply ready for me, for if I'm this bad taking her to nursery, I can't imagine preschool, kindergarten, etc. Does it ever get easier? Is there hope for my emotional rollercoaster of a ride called motherhood? When do I become normal again? But then again, I suppose if loving my daughter immensely and missing her when she's not around makes me an abnormally blubbery fruitloop, then you know what? Oh well!

TIP OF THE DAY: Don't try and walk before you crawl.

Family Planning

It seems as though I am losing track of my days at times, and have to occasionally call my mom, husband or friend to reassure myself of what day it is. The biggest transition from having a full-time career to becoming a stay-at-home-mom is, I feel as if I'm the living version of the movie Groundhog's day. I get up in the morning, am usually in my PJ tee most of the day, feed the baby, change the baby, play with the baby, put the baby to bed and get up every 2-3 hours at night, until it starts all over. The frequent advice you get as an expectant mom, is the experienced mother gazing off into the distance and stating, " ahh, I remember those days. All babies do is eat, sleep and poop." They failed to mention the fact that that's pretty much all you will be doing as a parent as well. Minus the sleep part.....and a lot of the times the eat part....which correction, just leaves poop. Although, if it's a good day I might get to actually shower, and if I'm really rambunctious will put pants on and check the mail. For those asking why my husband doesn't help more at night, here's the scoop. My husband is a police officer, so I am the one who gets up all night, every night, with the baby because I really don't want him tired when making a split decision about his life or somebody elses. So basically he's off the hook. I want him rested so that he may come home to us every night unharmed. Although, come back after he's been a mule's hiney and I might have a different attitude for you. In all fairness, he is an extreme help in so many other aspects, that I almost don't mind getting up in the night. For those of you who don't know, I was currently working in Physical Therapy full-time, and was suppose to be back to work 4 months ago after my maternity leave. That was my plan anyway. I am still currently nursing my 7 month old daughter, who was born slightly premature, and getting this child to nurse was about as easy as getting my cat to enjoy her bath. After 6-8 long weeks of every 1 hour feedings, nipple shields, bottle supplementation, breast pumping, mastitis, nipple sores, blocked ducts and lactation consultants the child decided she would finally go booby pro. Thank goodness! What a gift, what a blessing was my thought every time I nursed my baby girl! Don't mind the fact that I would be covering my mouth trying to muddle my screams due to the mastitis. Along with the tears streaming down my face in this time of "joy" and the feeling of daggers stabbing every square inch of my breasts. (And that's a lot of square inchage right now, let me tell ya.) Now that she has chosen champion breast feeder as her profession, she has also decided that she is refusing any nutrition from a bottle. Whether it is breast milk or formula, a bottle is out of the question per the little princess. So where does that leave me? That means the dairy must always be available and open, and guess what, I'm the dairy. Including fat cow after baby fanny to boot. In reflection of the situation, I've sobbed, I've screamed, I've laughed and I've learned in regards to this new plan that was not in my outline. We're struggling to manage our basic bills and barely making the mortgage on what was once a 2 income home to 1. Also, not in MY plan outline. As my best friend will attest to, I am an extremist. A complete planner, who thought she had her life outlined. How dare this little bundle of joy deviate from the plan! Doesn't she know that she is suppose to follow MY plan? MY outline?! Then it dawns on me as I laid her down to sleep tonight and she lay there so peaceful, so perfect, so worth every strife, struggle and tear. This is what it's all about. It's pure bliss and I would do it all over again no matter what any plan said.

TIP OF THE DAY: Your plan, may not always be the plan.

A Lunch Date

It was 11 a.m. this morning, and I was still in my PJ tee (which is not unusual throughout the day for me) when a friend called who had returned from her vacation. We briefly caught each other up on the last couple of weeks and then she alerted me that she was going to be in the area. Then it came....the question....the one I've been avoiding. I'm thinking, oh no, please don't ask what I think you are about to. And then it comes, she asks "do you want to go to lunch?" I quickly thought of all the reasons this idea was absolutely absurd! Was she crazy?!? Take the baby to a restaurant? By myself? You see, I've been out to several restaurant outings by now, but always with my husband,my mom, or my dad. They've always been there to be my crutch, help me get the baby in, get the baby out, help carry the diaper bag, which is followed by us all taking turns holding her while we eat our meal. Not because I couldn't or wouldn't do these things myself, but just because they have all been so helpful and supportive. Then suddenly realizing that my daughter is already 7 months old, and I haven't even gone on a lunch date by myself, I thought to myself....how hard could it really be? No sweat right? I got this! So I confidently say, "Okay, yeah, let's do it!" Then she says," okay, how about 12:15?" I look at the clock in a mild state of panic and realized that's only an hour away. Was she expecting a miracle? Again in this odd state of confidence, which has been rare these last few months, it boosted me to agree to the lunch outing. I hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and thought....I can do this! Now granted when we are planning on going somewhere I usually start the getting ready process 2 hours before. But apparently I thought I had magical powers this morning. I jumped in the shower, got dressed, threw my hair back, got the baby dressed, fed the baby and was out the door. The whole time I'm thinking this is perfect. It will be the baby's nap time, I will feed her before we go and she will be asleep in the car before we even get to the restaurant. And then I just know she will sleep like an angel for our lunch date. When we pulled into the parking lot the baby was still wide awake and overdue for her nap. Regardless, she seemed to be in good spirits. It was then, unloading the car seat, that it hit me. That smell, that stench, that odor of...... EXTREMELY STINKY BUTTER! I don't know why it smells like that to me, but it does! Again keeping calm, and realizing it's just a dirty diaper, so far so good. The waitress takes us to the table where my girlfriend and her 18 month old son are, considering we didn't arrive until 12:30. Even still, pretty good time I must say given the circumstances. We give our greetings, pick our soup and then I tell her I will be right back, I'm going to change the baby's diaper. I head to the restroom, with baby and diaper bag in tow. Then I realize, where is the changing table? I'm looking in every stall, and of course the family stall is locked. No problemo! I will just wait a minute. As the stench started to consume the restroom, I realized this child needs to be changed! For the love of god, a clean diaper please!! I go out and ask the hostess if there is a changing table in the restroom. And inevitably the answer was that it was in the family stall, the exact stall I couldn't get into! So I head back into the restroom, realizing it was either the bathroom counter or the floor. Obviously I chose the counter. Which consisted all of about 12 inches across between the 2 sinks. I pull out my travel pad, put the baby down for a standard diaper change, and then she smiles at me. It's then that I see poo drenched pants, coat, and onesie (all brand new I might add) that I just got her dressed in to look cute for our lunch date. As I pulled off her pants and unsnap her onesie to assess the damage, I see the poo up her back, down her legs and across her tummy. I gasp in terror, not only because I had no idea what to do, but because the wretched smell took my breath away! Apparently the prunes that she tried for the first time last night decided to kick in right at this opportune moment. I started pulling out gobs of wipes, and utilized almost the entire stack of paper towels next to the sink. I kept wiping and wiping, what at first seemed to be smearing and smearing. It was then that 2 other patrons entered the restroom. Oh my gosh what they must be thinking! The stench was awful and the evidence just sitting in the garbage can ripening with odor! Once they finished they headed to the sinks to wash up. The exact area I was completely spread across, with wipes, poopy clothes, diaper bag, etc. I apologized profusely, and was comforted by the women who stated they've been there before. At this moment it dawns on me. Suddenly I burst into prayer. Dear Lord, please, I am begging you, let there be a spare outfit in the diaper bag. Holding my breath I frantically search the diaper bag for spare clothes. At the very bottom, I find a complete new outfit ready for wearing. It's as if I heard the music of "Alleluia" in the background with beams of light! Phew! I wrapped the poo drenched clothes in paper towels and shoved them in the diaper bag. As I have now hurdled through the worst, it's then another new mom finally comes out of the family stall and says,"they're a handful aren't they?" All I could muster to say through my beads of sweat at this point was, "yeah, heh heh, handful." She then alerted me that she was done with the changing table now if I needed it. And although what came out of my mouth was a polite thank you, my thoughts said, "well gee! It's a little late!" Like somehow this was all her fault. I finally got the baby dressed and was able to return to the table about 10 minutes later. By this time our soup and salad had arrived, and I finally got to sit down with my girlfriend whose lunch date has been somewhat solo up until this point. The baby sat in my lap squirmy and antsy, due to the fact that her toys were in the diaper bag. I didn't dare open it in fear of releasing the smell of those butterry, poo filled clothes that were stashed inside, and not wanting to stink out the surrounding restaurant patrons. At this point, I was actually able to eat my soup and salad and have some conversation with my friend. As we were wrapping things up and the waiter was clearing the table, it's then at the speed of lightening my child goes for my water glass. As I try to save it, it goes flying across the table dumping everywhere including all over my friend's pants. I am mortified and repeatedly state how sorry I was. We did our best to sop up the mess with napkins, getting napkin donations from our surrounding table mates, and the waiter also assisting with towels. Trying to keep myself together, I thought well this can't get any worse, just hang in there. We started gathering our things to head out, and I put the baby back in her car seat. As I turned back around, I manage to knock over the other water, this time across the table and onto her 18 month old son. Again, we sop up with napkins, the waiter comes back over with towels, and it's at this moment I could no longer hold it together. I started to cry in utter embarrassment. My girlfriend reassured me it was no big deal, and that things like this happen. The fact that the staff was so understanding and awesome helped to. Then I look over and within seconds the baby had fallen asleep. Figures, NOW she sleeps. Finally, we head out to the car, I pack the baby in, get in the front seat and take in a deep sigh of relief. I get home, and all I can think about is getting back into my PJ tee, my comfort zone, even though it was now almost 2 pm. As I tried to wind down and recover from my lunch outing my best girlfriend calls, and I tell her about my outing while the baby is napping. We are both laughing hysterically along with me crying at the same time in relief that it was over. I was shocked once I hung up to realize we were on the phone for almost 2 hours!! As I reflected the day, I realized it didn't go well, but I made it. And I did it, and I got out of the house that I seem to be hibernating in. The afternoon carried on as usual. It's then something all too familiar hits my nostrils. I smell it again! Stinky, smelly, stench oozing from the diaper bag. "Crap!" I say to myself. (No pun intended) I forgot about the clothes in the diaper bag. Considering it was 4 hours later, let me tell ya, it wasn't pretty. Everything got to go in the wash immediately. Looking back on the day, at least with having such a chaotic lunch outing, they have to get better from here, right? I'm just proud of myself for doing it, and we all survived. Yeah me!


TIP FOR THE DAY: Don't poo where you eat. It stinks.