Becoming a parent is a life altering event. You go from being in charge of just you, to having this whole other human being that relies on you for everything. They also somehow quadruple your laundry load.
It’s intense. And it colors everything in your world. Suddenly you find yourself wearing these parenting glasses that change the way you view everything. It’s like Predator vision, only everything is in primary colors and has soft rounded edges because holy shit everything is a death trap.
The Wellbanks before we were both Wellbanks
It’s great, because kids are awesome and great (and I’m just going to keep saying great over and over again because I have a three-year-old and it’s great Great. Great. Great.) Continue reading
I messed up today.
I yelled at my kids this morning because I was frustrated over ten thousand stupid things but also not really one thing in particular at all. Raised my voice because I was trying to get the baby down for a nap while the toddler played her toy pots and pans like drums. What I really needed to be doing was the million other things that were waiting for me. But instead I was stuck in a loop of getting the baby almost down and having her awoken by her sister. Rinse and repeat.
Caffeinated and hoping for the best
This morning I even found myself pissed off at the baby, whose only crime is that she is in full blown separation anxiety/cling mode. Her chunky cheeks jiggled as she began to cry when I tried to sneak off to the bathroom alone. Continue reading
Seven steps for enjoying St. Paddy’s Day like you did before you had kids.
Step one: Dress your kids up in their St. Paddy’s Day finest. I am talking head to toe green, orange, and white. You’re going to need a gigantic green bow for their hair. This works for girls, boys, and patient dogs alike. Put giant green bows on everyone, you won’t regret it. Take pictures because OMG how cute are your kids in matching/themed/clean outfits? Immediately post said pictures to Facebook and Instagram (#littleleprachauns #luckyAF), and tell your husband that maybe you should have another baby #luckynumber3. Spend the next half hour changing a blown out diaper, navigate a meltdown over what socks to wear, and repack the diaper bag three times because SOMEONE keeps pulling the diapers out and throwing them around the kitchen. Tell your husband it’s time for that vasectomy. Load up the car with everything anyone could possibly need for the next 24-hours, for your ten-minute ride to your parent’s house. Continue reading
On the days when my arms are full but my heart is not, I try to remember why.
When everyone needs something right now, and I just don’t feel like I have anything left in me to give, I try to remember.
When they’ve already eaten lunch and are asking for snacks but I haven’t even started my breakfast, I force myself to remember.
There are very few things worse than a hangover. I can actually only think of two, one of them is a hangover at 36-years-old, the other thing is toddlers. Really really loud toddlers.
Because parenting is sometimes like a hangover from which there is no recovering
If you’ve experienced either of these things then you know that while you’re in them, they seem to go on endlessly and have no real cure.
Fortunately I have a list of ways to help. And this list applies to both overindulging and the tiny little people living in your home and draining you of all your ever loving energy.
- It’s all about the right foods – If you’ve ever woken up from a late night of partying with that cottonmouth, head pounding, belly full of acid feeling then you know how important your first meal of the day is. Whether you’re using it to suck up all of the remaining alcohol, as a pillow soft Landing for your ibuprofen, or to fuel you through a long day of chasing after small children. Breakfast really is the most important meal of the day. Make it equal parts carbs, proteins, and grease and you will have no problem making it through two straight hours of Paw Patrol, or you know, life.
- You’re gonna need a bigger coffee mug– Maybe you were doing jagerbombs until the bar closed at 2 a.m. Maybe you were up every hour because the blankets were simultaneously too soft and too hard. Just maybe, if you were really lucky, you woke up in the middle of the night to a small toddler face two inches from your own, saw your entire life flash between your eyes, and were so unimpressed that you were unable to fall back asleep. No matter what the reason, it’s now morning and you’re exhausted. My tip, brew a fresh pot of coffee, skip the mug, and put a straw in that bitch. That carafe is your mug today.
- Water is life – Alcohol dehydrates you. So does caffeine. It’s cruel and unfair, but you’re going to have to suck it up buttercup and re-hydrate. You’ll need to drink half your weight in ounces in order to maintain. Then you’ll want to add an extra two ounces for every alcoholic drink your downed the night before. Add an extra three ounces per toddler you have at home.
- Silence is golden – It’s much easier to recover from last night’s happy hour or a three-year-old’s birthday party if you can get some quiet time for your brain to recover. Whether that means a nice long bath (bonus points if you throw in a fistful of Epsom salts in for detox purposes) or locking yourself in the laundry room because that’s the last place your kids will look for you. Get your grey matter some time to heal.
- And the only real cure for both a hangover and parenting a toddler is the same, just abstain– Yeah, you’ve heard this one before. The only sure fire way to avoid a hangover is not to drink. And the only surefire way to not have toddlers is to not have babies. Who among us hasn’t sworn off alcohol after a particularly bad morning? Or said, “I really don’t think I want anymore kids.” only to eventually find yourself doing just that. Nothing lulls you into the false sense of security of, “we can handle another one.” quite like the sweet coo’s of someone else’s sleeping newborn.
The moral of the story is that only YOU can prevent hangovers and toddlers. Just say no.
Dear daughter, today you turn three. And although I will miss your tiny little voice, and your tiny face, I am excited for the year ahead of us.
This year you surprised me in so many ways. Your personality is clearer than ever. You are the charming little weirdo with a great laugh who is quick to use it. You’re brave, braver than I could have ever hoped you would be. Whether it’s facing down the dentist for the first time or spending your first nights away from me, you’ve gone at it all with the same determination. Continue reading
Shit changes fast around here, and as soon as I’m used to the current state of things, it changes again.
I’m still in survival mode. I say still because I think I shifted into it somewhere around my sixth month of pregnancy, maybe somewhere around my second round of strep throat? The “baby” is now almost seven months. It’s been a while. Maybe it’s not even really survival mode when you’re coming up on the one year mark. Maybe this is just my life now.
I’m okay with it. Because between the old life and the new, the moves and the changes, we’re all managing to survive. And that’s good enough for me.
Stuff, stuff everywhere…
Today marks two weeks since we moved into our new house. All the rooms are still piled high with boxes. We arrange and then rearrange while we try and figure out where to put all of these toys. Every time I think I’m making progress I find another box, jam packed with more brightly colored crap. I am inclined to think that Pandora’s Box was just full of mismatched doll outfits and random Lego pieces. Continue reading
To the woman who made fun of me today at Target,
I saw you…
You were openly mocking me. I don’t think you knew I was watching, I was in the back of the store, a few rows away tucked almost out of sight.
I get it, I really do, I make an easy target with my unnaturally slow gait, my arms always lifted just so, the slack jawed look on my face. You’re not the first person to make fun of me. You’re not even the first person to do it in front of me. It has happened for as long as I can remember. Continue reading
Halloween is almost here. And while I may not be sticking to my pre-parenting traditions (scary movie marathons, obnoxious decorations, and drinking my weight in pumpkin beer), I am still finding time to be living in a constant state of fear #isthisyearoveryet?
Don’t look too close, something may move…
You see, when you are a parent of small children, everyday is Halloween. Someone is always asking you for something (trick-or-can-I-have-more-crackers), there are costumes, and cobwebs. Lots and lots of cobwebs.
And like I said, shit is scary. I’m talking more than just the day to day cray that is 2017. Toddlers are scary. I mean, they are known for the weird things that they say and do. And weird things become terrifying things when they happen in the middle of the night.
As a matter of fact, life with a toddler is kind of like Halloween married a scary movie and they had a haunted house for a baby. And now you’re stuck changing that baby’s diapers.
Parents, you are doing everything wrong! Yes, I mean you. Every. Thing.
That’s what the headline read as I scrolled through my newsfeed on my phone while nursing my 3 month old (apparently that’s another big no-no, no phones while breastfeeding. Babies need eye contact while nursing. PUT YOUR PHONES DOWN RIGHT NOW AND ENGAGE YOUR LITTLE SQUISH WITH YOUR EYE BALLS). Continue reading