Being a new mom is hard. You’re tired, full of raging hormones, and you may or may not be so sleep deprived that you’re nearing a mental breakdown.
And that’s after spending the past 40 weeks being tired, full of hormones, and sleep deprived.
Being a new mom is hard… wait, I think I said that already… Continue reading
Your baby registry- you’re never sure if you’re asking for too much or too little. The chances are, you’ve registered for the wrong stuff all together.
This pregnancy has been significantly different than my last for lots of reasons. Not least of which is that I am already a mother. For some reason that seems to make pregnancy fly by. Where my first drug on and I felt like it would never end, I am now staring down the barrel of only having nine weeks left.
Tiny shoes never get old. Never.
I also don’t have to worry about registries or showers this time. We are having another girl, and only two-ish years after the first. I still have almost everything I need from last time.
Last night my daughter did the thing that we don’t speak of. You know the thing. The thing that all parents spend the first few weeks daydreaming about (because, you know, no nighttime dreaming takes place).
It’s the thing that you inevitably spend months Googling, wondering when it will finally happen, and eventually end up falling into a weary acceptance of.
You know, that thing. Continue reading
My entire life I have heard of The Curse of the Second Child. It’s like The Curse of King Tut’s Tomb, but with less carnage and more apathy. At least, that’s my take…
I can remember overhearing parents talk about it when I was a child, myself. Then, as I grew older and my friends became parents, I would hear them joke about it.
The second child just isn’t as big of a deal as the first… they’d say.
Don’t mind so-and-so, she just has second kid problems…
The theory was that you had already spent all of your excitement/energy on the first kid, so when the second one rolls around it’s just not that big of a deal. Continue reading
Have you ever heard the phrase horse latitudes before? If you haven’t, don’t worry, it’s an outdated term with several different interpretations that the average person would have no call to know. The origins of the saying have absolutely no baring on what I’m about to tell you. That is, other than to briefly explain what it is so that you can better understand where I’m at right now.
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my
The horse latitudes is an old sailing phrase that indicated that a ship had reached a location with calm waters and no crosswinds. Of course, this was prior to the days of two and four stroke engines. Are you impressed that I know that terminology, because you should be? With no prevailing winds, large ships would find themselves stalled out in the middle of the ocean. Supplies would begin to run short and sailors would start to panic.
The inhumane (and insane) fix for this often began with water rationing. The animals on board, specifically the horses, would bear the brunt of this solution. When the ships remained moored in the middle of the sea they would begin unloading their least precious cargo, the horses. This would both lighten their load and reduce the use of their finite resources.
I’m sitting on the toilet, pretending to eat a fake carrot as my toddler stands less than an inch from my bent knees begging me to keep going.
“Eat more, mommy.” She says, and pushes the carrot back to my face. Again I make the “om nom nom” noise and pretend to nibble on the tip. “It’s ice-cream!” She yells, reminding me that I can’t even eat a fake carrot correctly, because now it’s been transformed into a fake ice-cream cone. Get it together, mommy, her face says. Parenting is kind of your job. Continue reading
Every year since we first began dating, my husband and I have thrown a St. Patrick’s Day party. The tradition began as “kegs and eggs”, which was basically just an excuse for some serious day drinking. Over the years, as all of our friends began having children, it evolved into something a little more family friendly.
By the time we had our first child our annual green and orange clad shit show had morphed into something different. It had become part wild party and part daycare, complete with an arts and crafts table.
We served champagne and juice boxes, we catered to everyone. Continue reading
Being pregnant is a wonderful, amazing, miracle of an experience. You get to create this life inside of you, and then feel it grow and develop. Eventually you baby grows to become a tiny person that you will grow to love more than you ever thought was humanly possible. Plus, there is nothing quite as wonderful as new baby snuggles.
Pregnancy may be a wonderful, amazing, miracle, but it’s also the most goddamn exhausting experience of your life. Continue reading
I have an unpopular opinion that I’m going to share here with you guys today. And I sincerely hope that the village people of the internet don’t gather with their pitch forks, torches, and try and storm my Barbie Castle in the night.
“Trash Can Jenga”
Guys, motherhood isn’t a job. It’s just not. I can’t tell you how many posts/memes/articles I have read that begin with, “Being a mother is the hardest job I’ve ever had.”
It’s not a job, and I’ll tell you exactly why it isn’t a job. Continue reading
Well, Thanksgiving week has finally arrived. I don’t know how that happened, it was summer about a week ago, but suddenly the leaves are all falling from the trees and I am staring down the barrel of making dinner for 20 on Thursday.
Between mouthfuls of what will hopefully be the most delicious bird anyone in my family has ever eaten, we will inevitably discuss Christmas and what is at the top of everyone’s wish list this year.
Usually, I wait until the last minute to figure out what I really want and hastily throw a list together that includes scented candles and socks (although, between you and me, scented candles are my jam).
This year, I am planning ahead, and starting my list early. Today, even. And as I make it, I realize this list may be handy, not just for me, but for any of the moms that may be on your list.
Allow me to present to you a surefire list of Christmas gifts for any mom on your list.
- A full night of sleep. One that is done in a large bed, with plenty of pillows, and covers to be distributed however we wish. Oh, and we’d like to be completely and utterly alone. I’d settle for six hours, but the real gift would be 20.
- Clothes. Personally, I am on day four of the same pair of pants. I have three that fit me right now, but apparently the other two are currently in the vast wasteland that I like to call the laundry pile. Maybe the mom in your life needs new work clothes, or maybe it’s yoga pants, but I’m sure that she needs an additional something. And most importantly, something that fits. For me, this year it will be nursing tops. I can survive with the same three pairs of pants, but not the same two sweaters when the newborn comes. Dear Santa, please bring me a shirt that lets me get to my boobs as quickly as humanly possible, with at least two back-ups.
- Laundry service for a month. We are only a family of three right now but I do about six loads a week. Sure, the machines do most of the hard labor in this situation, but for every six hours of work they do, it means twelve hours of folding, hanging, and putting stuff neatly away in drawers for mom.
- A family photographer. The White House has a staff photographer that follows the Obamas around 24/7, so I would imagine that Michelle Obama is never missing from any Christmas morning pictures of the family opening presents. Now, I know that I’m not America’s First Lady, but I am the first lady of this family. And like most mothers, I’d like some shots of all of us together over the holidays. A camera with a self-timer, a selfie stick, whatever it takes to be a part of those Christmas morning pictures, Santa!
- Snacks that are both delicious and healthy. No, I’m not talking about chocolate that makes you skinny (and if we’re doing big gifts this year can we please do away with the word “skinny”). I am talking about healthy snacks that are already made. As moms we are often running around making sure that everyone else has what they want and need. We often end up famished and grab the closest and easiest thing to eat. This thing is rarely a bowl of freshly sliced fruit or cleaned and peeled veggies. An unending bowl of guacamole that is always freshly made and never turns brown? That would be the stocking stuffer to beat this year.
- Someone to do the dirty work. I am not talking about the temper tantrums or scrubbing toilets (but please see number seven) I mean poop and snot bubbles. Personally, I would like a week off from thrashing diaper changes that leave me, inexplicably, with poop under my fingernails. But maybe the dirty work for the mom in your life is spit up or changing a teenage boy’s sheets. I’m sure we all have that one dirty job that we need a break from.
- A cleaning service for approximately one month. This one is pretty self-explanatory. I’d like my month to be from Thanksgiving to New Year’s, or as I like to call, it “5 weeks of 5,000 messes”, but maybe that’s just me.
- A gift certificate for a Mom for Hire (and if that’s not a thing, it needs to be). This can be reserved for any time you are sick or hurt or are in some way unable to mom. It will be good for a surrogate mother for your children, and also one to take care of you, because sometimes a mom needs someone to mother them, too.
- A massage. There, this one wasn’t so hard, and it would easily fit into Santa’s sack. Mine can be given to me by my husband, but only if he suddenly possesses the hands of someone that cracks walnuts for a living. A gentle loving touch isn’t going to help these muscles. I need someone to get mad at the knots in my shoulders.
- A way to freeze time. Or more accurately, a way to hold onto these moments. I know sometimes we mothers complain (and some of us way more than others *raises hand guiltily*), but we know how short our time with our kids really is. Worse of all, the number of holidays that we get to spend with our kids under our roof is even further I wish I could bottle this time, these feelings, these moments, and hold onto them forever. Yes, even the high-on-freshly-baked-sugar-cookies-running-from-room-to-room-screaming-at-the-top-of-her-lungs, moments. I want to hold onto it all, because some day they will be gone.