Well, Happy Thanksgiving to ya. I've been skimpin' on the posts a bit this week due to the holiday and my work schedule, so as soon as the holiday weekend comes to a close, I'll be posting regularly again.
We spent the day with my side of the family today, and it was real nice. I stuffed my face. And I don't even care.
Normally I try to be very good with my portions. I generally try to eat healthy foods, but I don't really have anything that's off limits. My general rule of thumb is just to select healthy portions of whatever it is I'm eating.
Before I got pregnant, I lost 18 pounds by doing Weight Watchers online, and I loved it. It really helped me to learn what healthy portions are, and now that I'm back at my goal weight after having Kaylee, I just try to eat appropriate amounts of food.
But, not on the holidays. The holidays are a free for all. Especially when you have my mom and my mother-in-law cooking for you. The holidays are really the one time a year when we have a really big, special, traditional dinner, and I want to enjoy it all. Today I felt completely stuffed - not a feeling I'm particularly fond of, but it was totally worth it.
We ended the night with Dennis and I teaming up against my dad and brother for a good old game of Bash Five. My brother cheated, but we're not quite sure how - he wouldn't give up his secret. But, it doesn't matter because Dennis and I won the championship of the world game - we beat 'em 2 out of 3.
Well, I know this was a rather boring post, but I'm sort of gorked out on food right now - this is the best I can do right now.
Are you going shopping on Black Friday? I'm planning to hit a couple stores in search of some sales after lunch sometime. I miss enough sleep as it is these days, though - so you won't find me at those crazy 4 a.m. store openings. Thanks, but no thanks.
Feel free to come back and share your good Black Friday deals or crazy shopping stories.
A few weeks ago, my boss called me and told me that I did not have to come to work on November 24th because she over-scheduled our staff. Yay, right? Sure, but it's only a "yay" if you remember to mark it down on your calendar that you, in fact, DO NOT have to come to work. Since my brain cells seem to be escaping my body at an exponential rate these days, I somehow managed to forget to make this itsy little correction to my calendar.
So, I get up, get the baby ready, get my car packed, and right before I get ready to leave, I realize I don't have the stroller in my car. Dennis still has it in his Jeep. And he's already left for work. Which, is a problem because the babysitter walks her kids to school every day and pushes Kaylee in the stroller. I call Dennis up to tell him about our little stroller situation, and lo and behold, he happens to be at the babysitter's when I call him because he realized we forgot to make the stroller switcheroo this morning, and he was there to drop it off for her. He informs me that while the babysitter is still willing to take Kaylee today, she has just informed him that I told her weeks ago that we didn't need her today after all.
CRAP.
I was just thankful that we had our little snafu with the stroller, beacuse what if I had actually shown up at the babysitter's this morning? All snazzy in my work clothes, la-dee-da, "Here's Kaylee - I sent pears and squash with her today - there's an extra bottle for you to keep at your house in case I forget to bring one like I did LAST week, your check's in the mesh zippered pocket, and oh - by the way - she's got a mean diaper rash, so be sure to put lots of the Burt's Bees on her bum today? Ok? Ok. See you after work! What? You're not supposed to be watching Kaylee today? Silly lady. I knew that. I thought I'd just get dressed up nice in my work clothes (that I ironed this morning), pack the car, rush around, and pretend to drop my child off beacuse I wanted to play a joke on you. Ha ha ha - aren't I funny? BYE!"
Wow. I can't even describe to you how much of an idiot I feel like right now.
And, one more confession, just for the heck of it. I absolutely could not say no to the dinner rolls at Texas Roadhouse on Saturday. Seriously. Have you ever had them? Warm, fresh from the oven, with that addicting cinnamony butter stuff? Uh, I lost count of how many I snarfed down. But, it was okay because I didn't eat lunch that day.
Please indulge me today. Prove to me that you, too, are a Cotton-Headed Ninny Muggins and share a confession of yours from this past week. Pretty please, with sugar on top?
(Oh, and you'll definitely want to head on over to Mama's Losin' It at some point today so you can enter to win these beautimous earrings made by Jessica.)
Before I give you any other details, I'm going to tell you how freaking late it was when I got home tonight from my little night out. You might wanna sit down because you are not going to believe this, people.
I got home at 9:30. 9:30 P. frickin' M. I can't even stay up that late to watch Law and Order: SVU most nights. I'm so proud! Woo - woo! *raises the roof a few times*
So, before I leave, Dennis gets home, we chat for a bit, I hand over the baby, and I'm out the door. I hop in the car and Darius Rucker begins to sing to me as I back out of the driveway. We're off to a good start. I crank the volume up a few notches, and start singin' along.
I arrive at the mall, and before I go anywhere else - I stop at Sonic. It's America's Drive-In, in case you weren't aware. Except if you're in the mall. I do not recommend driving in to Sonic when it's stationed at a shopping mall. So, my late night out on the town began with some much anticipated Tater Tots.
No, we're not talking this kind of tots:
No cold, mushy, only-half-way-cooked school cafeteria tater tots that will later be stuffed into the side zipper pocket of your MC Hammer pants. There will be none of that on this night of nights.
This - THIS is what I'm talkin' about.
Good old fashioned Sonic tater tots in all of their greasy, salty goodness. So stinkin' freshly made that I actually burned my tongue. I don't even care. They were so good. Let's not forget the Lemon Berry Cream Slush, either. I place my order and walk over to the cushy chairs in front of the fireplace. The Christmas decorations are all up, but the damn fireplace wasn't on! You've gotta be kidding me! I didn't let it ruin my evening, though.
I sit back and sink into the cushy chair, and then proceed to spill part of my drink on my shirt. Bright pink spillage. Lovely. I think to myself, "If it's not baby snot or spit-up, I guess it had to be the cream slush. Even without the baby here, I manage to ruin a perfectly clean shirt in public." Oh well, I didn't let that get to me, either.
After I savored my treat, I head on over to Hallmark to get a little somethin' for a good friend of mine whose surprise birthday party I would be attending approximately 45 minutes after I popped the last tot. I got a her a funny little book about motherhood and picked out a cute bag to put it in - I just love to make presents look cute when I give them. It's who I am.
So, after that, I decide to head back to my cushy chair to get her gift ready and write her a quick note to go with it. Well, be still my heart if there isn't a Children's Place store right in front of me. Well, well, well. That little chunk of paradise wasn't there the last time I was at the mall (let's remember I don't get out much, okay?) I just had to go in there. I must tell you that I excercised uncanny restraint. I cannot even begin to describe the level of cuteness that was contained in that store - and the sales - oh my goodness, the sales! But, good little me, I walked out the door with a clearance headband - just 1.49, thankyouverymuch. It may not fit Kaylee's head until she's 2, but oh well.
It's rather cute - see for yourself!
After this fun little purchase, I set off for the surprise party, and I had myself a real good time. My friend was just thrilled about her surprise, and I enjoyed spending some time with other adults - just laughing and having a good time. Although, I will tell you that I was rather pissed that the restaurant would not make me a cheese and pepperoni calzone. I'm a very particular eater, and excuse me for not wanting olives and other disgusting food items in my dinner. Apparently these so-called calzones are prepared ahead of time. Stupid idea if there ever was one. I was so certain that what I wanted was the calzone that I didn't even come up with a Plan B. So, I got a quickly chose Frito pie, which turned out to be surprisingly delicious.
I never made it to Target or JC Penney, but I did almost hit a small family of javelinas (say it like have-a-leenas). In case you don't know what that is, it's a wild pig that's uglier than sin. It was sort of like this. Only it was dark, there were 4, and I don't drive an SUV.
Anyway, I managed to make it home without hitting one of these fine beasts. I even got some top-secret hip-hop time in the car with J-Lo...."I'm still, I'm still Jenny from the block. Used-ta have a little, now I have a lot. I'm still, I'm still Jenny from the block." Yeah, yeah, what up homes.
Tomorrow I plan to do some work around the house and then we'll do some sort of family activity that has yet to be determined. BUT! I will be going to the gym to get buff at some point, and on my way home, you can bet your bottom dollar I'll be stopping at Target and Penney's, and yes - I'll take my sweet time and enjoy every minute of it.
...If you are reading this, it means that I have set out on an exciting adventure.
My adventure will begin as soon as I hear the rumbling of my husband's Jeep coming down the road. I'll grab the baby, and I'll make my way to the front door. We'll greet him happily and wait for him to get into his comfortable clothes.
When Baby Daddy is all comfy, Baby Mama will hand off Baby, lace up my Adidas, grab my bag, get in my car, find some good tunes, and embark on a long-awaited journey...
...To Target, JC Penney, perhaps a home decorating store, and wherever the heck else I want to go. Alone. By myself. Solo. Sans baby or husband or friend or family.
Thanks to the brilliant, yet surprisingly simple advice from a couple of my readers from yesterday's post, I'm making time for me.
I'm so excited I can hardly stand it! I can shop leisurely, with no worries about having to breast feed my baby in a public bathroom, or change a poopy cloth diaper in a public bathroom, arriving at my destination with a screaming child and no pacifier, or figuring out how to put all my purchases in the bottom of the stroller.
Heck, I might even stop at the food court, grab an indulgent treat (mozzarella sticks from Sonic, perhaps? Orange Julius? Cream Cheese wontons? The possibilities are endless, people...) and sit down by the big fireplace so I can watch people and make up stories in my head about what they are like.
I'm trying to be more intentional about taking care of myself and doing the things I enjoy, be they things from my pre-baby days, or new favorite hobbies, such as shaking my butt at the baby to make her laugh hysterically (I think she laughs because she knows she's responsible for the extra jiggle in my butt - she probably thinks, "Ha ha! I put that there, and it ain't comin' off any time soon if you keep sneaking those cookies, Mama. You're welcome, by the way."). But mostly, I'm going to try harder to incorporate the "pre-baby" activities that I enjoyed so much that I've neglected these past few months.
Anyway, I'll be accepting virtual *high fives* all night for my accomplishment of venturing out into the real world all by myself.
What will YOU do for yourself today?
Head on over to SITS (blog speak for "The Secret is in the Sauce" - go check it out - I know you're curious...) to read more Dear So-and-So letters from other bloggers. I promise you'll laugh if you do.
I remember when Dennis and I could actually stay awake long enough to watch an entire episode of Saturday Night Live.
At the time in our lives when we could actually accomplish such a feat, we also lived in an apartment that was a whopping 365 square feet in size. So, maybe the same thing that allowed us to live in such a confined space for our first years of marriage without killing each other is what gave us the uncanny energy to stay awake at what I now consider to be such an ungodly hour.
When I tell you our life was simple back then, I mean it was real simple. Just the two of us. We went to school, worked part-time jobs that were total cake, and had almost no bills, thanks to our financial aid. It wasn't until I approached the end of my studies in social work when we learned about poverty and all that fun stuff that I truly understood why the financial aid gurus were so good to us. I learned that we were actually living below the poverty line. We honestly had no idea.
We never felt poor (well, aside from the type of "poor" that all college kids feel...the ramen noodle type of poor, if you will). We were so happy, and we had a blast pretty much all the time. We'd pick up and go on a hike or a picnic in the woods on a whim. We'd pack up the chess board and set up a game in a grassy spot on campus (where I would then proceed to angrily knock all the pieces off the board - multiple times - after losing. Repeatedly.). We were really very care free, except during finals week, of course.
Life is different now. Way different. We've had to grow up a bit. Now we have a mortgage, real jobs to go to, lots of bills to pay, and an extra mouth (that likes to babble, blow raspberries a lot, and make fake coughing noises when she wants more attention) to feed.
Kaylee came into our lives at the perfect time. We were thrilled to find out she was on the way, and I was blessed with an uncomplicated pregnancy, as well as a good labor and delivery experience. Being the avid reader and information junkie that I am, I read a butt load of stuff about pregnancy, labor and delivery, but not a whole lot about what to expect after all of that. There just aren't many books out there about it, and frankly, I didn't think I needed to read many of them even if they were out there.
Being a mom was the part I thought I could handle. I was confident that it would just come naturally. I was good with kids, I knew I had the necessary motherly instincts, I've taken care of babies and kids - I was ready. Ready to have the baby, get home, and start living life as our new little family. Dealing with the pain of pushing a kid out was what terrified the daylights out of me that whole 9 months, and not much else. I survived the labor, discovered that chocolate is a girls second best friend because epidurals were actually a girl's true best friend, and thought the toughest part was over. I wasn't all that worried about missing some sleep and dealing with newborn poop.
I could have worried a little bit more, perhaps, but it wouldn't have done any good, because I've had a hard time adjusting, in spite of my assumption that it'd be just hunky dory. (More posts about that will be sure to come)
People always said once you have a child, you'll never get to eat an entire meal before it gets cold again. So, I expected that, but I didn't realize that after a while, that gets really old. We are the kind of people who occasionally partake of delectable breakfast foods for dinner, and I don't care who you are - cold eggs SUCK. I just want to eat my eggs while they're hot! But, the eggs have to wait when you've got a stinky diaper to change or tears that need to be wiped away.
Sometimes I miss not being able to watch a full episode of my favorite TV shows because they interfere with bathtime, bed time, or rice cereal time.
Sometimes I miss being able to take a nice, long shower without mini me right outside the shower door because she'll cry if she can't see me every 13 seconds.
Sometimes (try every night) I miss being able to sleep through the night.
To be honest, I really miss having more time for myself.
A good friend of mine helped me to realize that new moms often actually go through a grieving period of sorts - a grieving of the parts of your identity and your life that aren't really so evident anymore. Your life changes the minute you become a mother, and no matter how hard you try, you can't really prepare yourself. I'm still trying to grasp the fact that it's *okay* that I miss a few things about my pre-baby life. And there are a lot of things that I do miss.
But you know what? Give me the cold eggs. Give me the sweet little girl in her jumperoo whose face lights up brighter than the sun when I open the shower door to remind her I haven't gone anywhere. Give me the 7 p.m. screaming session, signaling to me that the rice cereal and squash are exactly 2 seconds overdue and they need to be delivered NOW. And I mean RIGHT now. Give me the 3 days worth of dirty dishes and the 6 loads of laundry. Give me 15 minutes of The Office instead of 30. And yes, give me the middle of the night wake-up calls from the 6-month-old down the hall who has already proven that she is capable of sleeping in 8-hour increments - she just chooses not to most of the time.
I might complain about how hard things are sometimes, and for good reason, because they are hard. In reality, though, I know that people aren't lying when they tell me I'll miss these things someday.
This - right now - this is what we were going for all along. This is what we always wanted. And I'd eat cold eggs every day if I had to because it won't be like this for long.
(Head on over to Mama's Losin' It to read more Writer's Workshop posts from other bloggers.)
How about some random funny stuff? I'm tired, and I don't have anything brilliant to write, so thankfully, I've been tagged by April over at The Life of Me Plus Three. So, she took the guess work out of what I should post about today, and all I have to do is answer her fun questions. I hope something gives you a chuckle.
1. What is your funniest childhood story?
Well, I'm sure there are plenty, but the Wall of Boogers is probably up there toward the top of the list. When I was a tiny little kid (about 13 years old or so...just kidding! I was probably 3? I don't really know...) I picked my nose and put the boogers on the wall beside my bed, but I was a smart little cookie and put the boogers on the part of the wall that was covered by the mattress, convinced that no one would ever find them. Duh. We eventually moved and boom. There they were. Not just 5 or 6 - but a whooooole lotta boogers. The looks on my mom and dad's faces must have been priceless. I have no idea what possessed me to do such a weird thing, but I did it. My dad ended up telling my then future father-in-law about it at Easter dinner before my husband and I were even engaged. Fortunately, my husband still chose to marry me, in spite of my odd booger behavior as a child.
2. What would your dream dress look like if you could design it?
My wedding dress was my dream dress. A princess dress, if you will. Fitted top with spaghetti straps, poofy skirt. Cried when I tried it on because I knew it was THE DRESS. I don't have another dream dress. It was the wedding dress I always pictured in my head. 3. What weird habit does your hubby have?
No weird hubby stories on my blog. He's got immunity here. :)
4. How many cookbooks are in your kitchen?
Probably about 5 with a few random cooking magazines.
5. Granny panties or loyal Victoria Secret girl?
Vicky's Place . But only if I get the free coupon in the mail. Silly ladies - don't ever PAY for a pair of those undies - wait for the free coupon and then tick off the snooty sales girl when you refuse to use the other part of the coupon that says you get a whopping $10 off if you buy a $50 bra. No thanks. Give me my free underwear so I can be on my merry little way, thankyouverymuch. (Don't even get me started on Granny Panties)
6. My favorite memory from 2008 so far is...
Welcoming my baby girl into the world.
7. I secretly...
Well, I already told you I secretly have fake poops and secretly listen to hip hop music in my car. If you expect me to tell you that when I pumped every three hours for my daughter's first 2 months of life, that I ate cake every time I got up in the middle of the night (when it was readily available in my fridge - which was often), well - I'm just not sure you need to know that.
8. I could really go for...
8 hours of sleep.
9. We are going to have a big snow storm and you will find me...
Curled up on the couch with some hot chocolate. Perhaps reading a book or watching a fun movie. Now I wish it would snow.
10. I knew he was the one...
The day I was finally willing to fart in front of him. Ha ha ha! Ok, maybe that wasn't the defining moment, but it was an important milestone nonetheless.
1. Yesterday after my crazy morning I grabbed a frosted cookie and snarfed it down on the way to church. I wasn't hungry - it was nothing but pure, delicious emotional eating.
2. I have 3 more hours until I have to be to work, but I had Dennis drop off Kaylee at the babysitter's on his way to work an hour ago so I could have some extra time to myself this morning.
Your turn!
(I got back on here to add one more - I ate a cookie with my breakfast - yay for me!)
Well, I did it. I fished a turd out of the bath tub. Bare handed.
I was wishing I had one of these:
After Kaylee nearly flooded our kitchen floor with her fanatical splashing in the kitchen sink during bath time, we decided it was time for her to move on up to the actual bath tub. We took her diaper off before plopping her in the water, and we were very careful to make sure the tiny poop that was inside of it didn't drop out, but apparently there was more where that came from. We put her in the tub and suddenly I notice what appears to have been a cling on. Just the tiniest little turd - we're talking the size of a pencil eraser, people.
But, she still grabs for anything and everything in the tub and it goes straight for her mouth. As my child plays gleefully in the once-clean bath water, I start to panic. Again, my fear of my child eating her own poop kicks in, and I have no choice but to attempt to capture the little floater.
My husband just looks at me and says, "You gonna bare hand it?" I had no other option. So, for the first time in my life I intentionally picked up a piece of poop with my bare hands (I don't think I've ever accidentally picked up a piece of poop with my bare hands, but I digress...). Have you ever tried to fish a teensy turd out of bath water? It's no simple task!
So, I think I'm asking for one of the above fish nets for a stocking stuffer this Christmas. Just $1.19 at www.cheappetstore.com. Affordable, practical, protects me from poop germs - what more could a girl ask for? Plus, apparently it flows through the water quite nicely. Check out the product description: "A loose weave net for easy movement in water. These loose weave nets allow unhindered movement through the water. Available in 3", 5", 8", and 10" size nets and varied handle lengths."
God forbid that anything should hinder the movement of my baby turd net in the water! We just can't have that! I'm thinking I can start with a 3" net since she's still pretty small, and as the turds increase in girth, we'll just up the net size.
That's all. It was just a monumental achievement and I felt compelled to share it with you.
I didn't have to go to work on this particular morning. I wanted desperately to sleep in. For once. Just once. Please? Pretty please, with sugar on top? Nope. I hear stirring in the nursery and a tiny little voice beckoning me with jibberish. I stumble out of bed, eyes half closed, and this is what I see when I walk in. Friggin' hilarious! And she stayed like this while I ran for the camera. I really, really wish what I knew why she did crazy stuff like this. Maybe she's going to be a completely self-taught circus acrobat. Who knows. Head on over to Candid Carrie to join in her Phriday Photo Phinish Phiesta for yourself.
One of my very favorite things to do on Thursday nights is to watch The Office with my husband. We are huge, huge fans of the show for one simple reason. It's freakin' hilarious. We never fail to laugh out loud for nearly 30 minutes straight.
I can't even begin to tell you how excited we were when Jim and Pam finally got together. Then, after our excitement, we laughed at ourselves for getting so overjoyed about a FAKE TELEVISION COUPLE.
Anyway, I found this on YouTube and had to post it here. It's the Top 10 Jim and Pam moments. So, kick back, relax, and escape from some of your own chaos. And, tune into the Office. Thursday nights. NBC. 8 o'clock. Well, that's just what time it's on where I live. I have no idea what time it's on where you live. Maybe you should look that up.
(Oh, and before you hit play on this video, pause the music player on the right - otherwise your pretty little head might get overwhelmed and confused, and we don't need that.)
So, I found a new blog that I absolutely LOVE, and I'm telling you that you should definitely go and check it out. It's called Mama's Losin' it - I saw the blog title and knew I just had to check it out. Now I'm hooked.
Anyway, this post is part of a fun little challenge she's got goin' on. The assignment is to write a haiku about what you see out the window. And, if you're like me, and you didn't pay attention in 10th grade English, click here for the definition of a haiku. Onward!
I can't see too much It's nine oh nine o'clock now Yep, it sure is dark
I know, I know. You're jealous of my sweet haiku skills...
I suffer from frequent Mommy Brain moments. When I was pregnant, Dennis and I called it "Preggo Brain" and said it was the baby stealing my brain cells. I would just say the dumbest things that made no sense at all. Well, now that I'm breastfeeding, I claim that my brains leave via my boobs, because I still say, and do, stupid stuff that makes no sense to me. Take today for example.
I decide to dress Kaylee in a really cute linen shirt that my father-in-law brought home for her after his last trip to Costa Rica. It's an off white color, so I wanted her to wear her brown pants with it - you know, keeping with the earth tones. I mean, we won't be leaving the house at all today, except to get the mail, so - for crying outloud - we've got to be matching for all the people we're bound to see. Well, I can't find the pants in her closet or her dresser, so I figure they must be in the dryer, waiting to be folded. So she wears yellow pants instead. Close enough.
Well, I finally take my shower and go perusing through my closet for a t-shirt, when I find this, among the clothes in my closet. Yep, I'm losing it.
Care to indulge me with your own preggo brain/mommy brain story, so as to make me feel a little better about myself? Anyone? Anyone? Beuhler?
I realize that by posting what I am about to post, I run the risk of you all thinking I'm a major slob. But, if you think that, then poo poo on you because, if you're a mom, I'm venturing a guess that your house has looked like this at some point, too. If not, then, please - by all means - lend me your supermom cape for the day. I promise I'm not a slob. Hopefully you'll see these pictures and not feel so bad about your own little messes. Or, if your house happens to be clean right now, pat yourself on the back until 6 o'clock tonight when it's a mess again.
Kaylee decided 5 a.m. would be a grand time to wake up this morning. Then she proceeded to fuss for 2 hours straight. Fun times, people. Now, this is what she's up to...
*insert Hallelujah chorus here*
So, it's officially nap time at our house, and there are a few things I could be doing right now - like...
1. Taking a shower (oooh, or scrubbing soap scum off shower walls....)
2. Picking up the kitchen
3. Folding this laundry
4. Washing the stack of dirty cloth diapers that are inside this Diaper Genie, and that are now starting to pile on top of the Diaper Genie
5. Cleaning the living room
Nahhh. That would have been the old me - the one that had not yet learned the lesson of why God provides mamas with baby naps...the girl who thought that nap time meant "productivity time" and power cleaned like a mad woman. Yes, I could have gotten a lot done around the house, but that's not what I needed to be doing. Ya see, those messes will be there all day. That's a fact.
BUT! These moments of quiet tranquility could end at any given moment, so I'm going to savor them. I'm going to use nap time for what I believe God intended nap time to be. ME TIME. I need my quiet time - my time to sit back, relax and do something for myself. I can clean the house later when Kaylee is awake and playing in her jumperoo or something.
For now, I'm going to eat my Fiber One bar, toss back a cold glass of water, and do a little blog hopping. In my pajamas. And I'm not going to feel guilty about it. Not one bit. So there.
Hey! If you want to follow my blog and get all the latest posts, there's more than one way to join the crazy train.
1. Become a follower. Wendy is cool. She was my blog's first follower. She is currently my blog's only follower. You should join her so she doesn't get lonely.
2. Subscribe to posts and/or comments. There's a link to do this on my sidebar.
Ok, now go do whatever it is you were doing. Me? I'm going to go take my shower. It's 5:08 p.m. High time for a shower, wouldn't ya say?
This was originally posted on our family blog, but I figured it's quite appropriate to be placed here as well. I'd love to hear your own funny kid poop stories!
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Allow me to set the scene for you...
Ok, so earlier tonight, Dennis, Kaylee and I are all here in the office. I'm diligently working on figuring out strange computer codes in order to make the blog look all fancy, and Dennis is playing a game on the other computer. Kaylee is having a grand old time, just entertaining herself in her play center.
Dennis and I are just clicking away on our respective keyboards, when out of the blue he says, "Sera, did you fart?" I had to think about that one for a minute. "No, I don't think so," I told him. Instantly we both turn around and look at Kaylee.
She's got a huge grin plastered on that sweet little face of hers. That horrendous smell couldn't possibly have come from her. I'm noticing that her little, tiny legs are moving very fast, sliding around rather easily, when normally, she meets some resistance. Hmmm, what ever could that be about?
Dennis and I both realized what happened at the exact same moment.
(Go ahead and use your imagination about the choice words that were uttered at this point).
So, the bottom of her play center has a flat surface that her feet can rest on, right? Well, it looked like the surface of a finger painting by a master painter. Except this wasn't finger painting. It wasn't painting, and there were no fingers involved.
This work of art was fashioned with straight up poop and baby toes. Yep.
This little fiasco resulted in an immediate bath for Kaylee (whose new nickname, bestowed upon her by Dennis, is "Poop Dancer"). I felt like I was wrangling a calf holding her as Dennis ran the bath water. I couldn't let her touch her feet, her legs, her diaper - nothing. Oh, but my sweet little determined girl tried so hard to be a little pretzel. Normally such a cute attempt on her part, but this time it was my worst nightmare for fear that my child would actually put her own poop in her mouth, only because she puts everything in her mouth. I just kept thinking, "Oh, please don't put your hand in your poop. Don't eat your poop. Don't eat your poop..."
I'm standing there holding Kaylee as Dennis runs the water in her tub. We both just look at each other and immediately start to crack up. It was so funny!
And let me just say this. I'm realizing that there are words that you will never utter in your life, not unless you're a parent. I was scrub-a-dub-dubbin' Poop Dancer and the following phrase just pours out of my mouth with no forethought whatsoever: "Hey, stop squirming around so I can get the poop out from between your toes!"
This results in more laughter. I'm realizing laughing is sometimes the only way to get through some of the things you have to deal with as a parent. I mean, that was disgusting as all get out, but at the same time, it was so freakin' hilarious that it makes me giggle just thinking about it.
Ya ever seen that Honey Bunches of Oats commercial? One spoonful is all it takes?
My husband and I can joke around about my postpartum depression now that it's under control. I remember one night a couple weeks after I started my ABPs - I was joking around and being my usual goofy self. Dennis said, "I love medicine!" And I said, in the same tone as the lady from the Honey Bunches of Oats commercial - "5 milligrams is all it takes!"
I know about postpartum depression. I'm a social worker. I talk to new moms at the hospital about it all the time. I know the signs and symptoms. But, I guess when it's happening to you, you somehow become blinded to what's really going on.
I've got a great support network of other moms online, and one day I told them that I was really irritable and stupid little things were really pissing me off. I told them that I'd cry really easily over stuff that never would have bothered me before. Postpartum depression was brought up. I shrugged it off and said - nope, not me, not depressed. I didn't feel sad. I didn't have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. I was not depressed.
But, two of these moms in particular kindly reminded me that you don't have to feel depressed to have depression, and that it can manifest itself in different ways like anger, irritability, etc. These two moms encouraged me to talk to my doctor, and shortly after their suggestion, I did.
I told the doc that I didn't feel like myself - that I felt like I was PMS-ing all the time. Then we had the talk, and she suggested an anti-depressant. It was hard to swallow (the diagnosis, not the pill - the pill is rather tiny, thankyouverymuch). Come on - we all know there's a stigma attached to PPD, and I didn't want that. But, I had to accept it. It was something I never expected to deal with, but it was - IS - a very real part of my postpartum life.
My doctor prescribed Lexapro and said she'd start me out on a "baby dose" - just 5 mg because she said it seemed like things weren't too out of hand yet. She explained that, without treatment, things could escalate. She said the Lexapro should start working within a week, and she was right. After 2 weeks Dennis and I noticed an even bigger difference.
Once I started feeling better, I finally realized just how bad it really was. I had forgotten what it was like to feel like myself, and that made me sad.
I have no shame in my diagnosis, or in the fact that I have to take medication to deal with it. Once I've been on the ABPs for 6 months, I'll go see my doctor again and we'll talk about discontinuing the meds. Heck, I'll be glad to not have to fork out 80 bucks a month anymore. But, I told Dennis that if I come off of them and find out that I go back to being an Ice Queen, I have no reservations about getting back on them. We'll wiggle something else around in the budget if need be - we know these pills work, and to us, 80 bucks is more than worth it.
I realize that in order to be a good mother, and a good wife, I've gotta take good care of myself. I don't want my daughter to remember me as a cranky mama, and I don't want my husband to have a cranky wife. Huh-uh. Not in this house.
Mel and Karrie, thanks. You have no idea how grateful to you I am. If Dennis knew you, he'd thank you a million times as well. Love you, girls.
Now you weigh in - did you ever struggle with PPD? What did it look like for you, and were you able to manage it? How did your family react? Talk to me.
Never in my life have I wished for anything more (okay, you got me - that's not entirely true - it's just how I feel right now)...
So, I have my morning bowl of fiber-y cereal, so as to keep myself regular. Then I add on a chewy and delicious, gas-inducing Fiber One bar. Two minutes later, it's time to drop the kids off at the pool, if you know what I'm sayin'.
I decide to go grab a new magazine and take my sweet time. My little one is happily entertaining herself in the Pack 'n Play - there should be no issues here.
WRONG!
I get five of my ten toes out the door and screaming ensues. I remember, "Oh yes, we're in the phase where she blows a gasket if I leave the room." But, cry she must. This mama's gotta poop.
I get my magazine, sit down, and wish to high heaven that I could just read the latest issue of Parenting - seriously - 5 pages is all I ask for. Is that so much?! Apparently, it is.
So, I spend my crapadoodle doo time with the door open so that I can talk to my child in the sing-songy voice that she loves so much, just so I don't have to hear constant screaming.
A dear friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) has two kids of her own. Not long ago she was telling me that gone are the days of the Leisurely Crap. No more dawdling on the pot. No more catching up on the bathroom reading. No more private time.
Unfortunately, due to the obscene amount of fiber I choose to have in my diet, my craps are always in the morning (unless I mistakenly consume 2 or more Fiber One bars - then I'm in for it all the live long day...) - when my husband is conveniently at work. This is unfortunate because, were he home during my oh-so-scheduled poops, I could enjoy a leisurely crap.
So, how do I deal? I have fake poops. Yep, fake poops.
He gets home - I suddenly have to crap. Oh, and it takes me a good 20 minutes, too. What's he gonna do? Tell me to hurry it up? I think not. So, I sit there on the crapper and read my magazine, pretending to poop. Hey, you do whatcha gotta do to get a little piece and quiet, and if it means faking a poop, then so be it.
I've wanted to be a mama ever since I was old enough to tote around a doll.
This blog is all about my journey through motherhood. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. My daughter brings me more joy than I could have ever imagined. I just wish I had a clue how hard it was going to be. No one ever told me. I thought I'd have my baby, come home, breastfeed her, experience the usual sleep deprivation, deal with poop and puke and other bodily fluids, all the normal stuff you expect.
I had no freakin' clue that my baby would decide not to latch on for 2 months and that I would tirelessly pump around the clock - every three hours for that entire first 2 months- because I was so stubbornly set on providing her with breast milk.
And I didn't realize that I would feel like such an emotional wreck, and even somewhat of a failure, for not being able to breast feed my own child.
I had no clue that the physical recovery from child birth would be so painful.
I had no clue that sleep deprivation isn't just some silly phrase - it can totally mess with your body and your mind.
I had no clue that I would turn into such an Ice Queen, and that you can have postpartum depression even if you don't feel "depressed."
I had no clue that antidepressants (which I have fondly nicknamed "ABP's" - short for "anti-bitchy pills") would be my saving grace and bring the real me back into existence (have I mentioned I have the world's most patient husband?).
And that's just to name a few of the things I didn't have a clue about.
I feel like there are so many things no one ever told me. I'm learning that there are certain aspects of motherhood that too many "been there, done that" mamas don't like to discuss. But these are things that need to be put out there, because if they're not, then that means there are too many of us sitting at home thinking we're crazy, or that we're just not cut out for this gig.
I'm coming to realize that most of what we go through as moms is utterly and completely normal - but there's just too much of it that no one is really willing to talk about. Well, I'm ready to talk about it. Humor has always played a big part in my life, and to be honest, I think it's all that gets me through some days.
So, I can promise you that this blog isn't going to be a downer just because I talk about my struggles. I believe that humor is an incredible tool for dealing with the tough stuff, so, just like the title of my blog implies, you'll get to read all about how I laugh through the chaos that is my new life as a mother.
If no one ever comments on my posts and all I do is blabber on and on about my life, so be it. That's fine. At least I'll get a few things off my chest. But, I really, really encourage you to comment - let's get a dialogue going and share the ups and downs of motherhood together.
If I manage to make it to my bedroom without tripping over a bouncy seat, jumperoo, pile of laundry, stray shoe, or random breast pump part, I'll be back tomorrow to write more. Until then, I hope you get more sleep than I do tonight.
Posts
Well, Happy Thanksgiving to ya. I've been skimpin' on the posts a bit this week due to the holiday and my work schedule, so as soon as the holiday weekend comes to a close, I'll be posting regularly again.
