Real motherhood.

Motherhood has changed me in so many ways. I could talk about the cup size reduction, the fat relocation, the lack of sleep, the fact that I now eat things off the floor on a regular basis and occasionally partake of toddler foods for my own snacks, but today, I just want to focus on one aspect of how motherhood has changed me. And that, my friends, is the fact that I'm no longer as judgmental toward mothers.

Before I entered the world of motherhood, I will admit that I was totally judgmental.

I'd see moms in their sweats and messy hair and think, "Man, she's let herself go. Would it hurt to spend 5 minutes with a brush and a tube of mascara?" Mean, I know.

On the other end of the spectrum, I'd see those moms who were just totally gorgeous wearing the nice outfits, toting around their beautiful, well-behaved gorgeous children with perma-smiles on their faces and think to myself, "See? She took some time for herself? She hasn't let herself go. Look how cute her kids look in those trendy little outfits! Awww!"

Aw, BARF is what I think to myself now, as I sit in my sweats with no mascara on trying to pick spaghetti and peanut butter out of my hair.

Barf to the lady with the perfect outfit, the perfect children, and the smile that never fades. I'm calling her bluff because that's not real motherhood.

Now, hear me out. I like to look nice when I go out in public. I usually wear makeup every day, and I, for the most part, try to be presentable. Nothing wrong with that. But, there's also nothing wrong with going to the store in your sweats and crazy hair. To each his own.

What bugs the heck out of me is when women put this crazy pressure on themselves to act like they always have it together and that every single moment of every day with their children is filled with nothing but love and laughter and hugs. Oh, and no one ever farts or burps or says a cuss word in their little world, either.

Sure, there are moms who may have a better handle on things than others. Some may be more organized, more calm, better able to cope in stressful situations, but let's be honest - trying to act like it's all fun and games is just silly.

It's hard - plain and simple, and to me - it's really refreshing to be able to talk about the way it really is. I've been so blessed to have friends (and readers!) who are also willing to tell it like it is.

Frankly, I don't have time for sugar coating in my life (unless that sugar coating is on a piece of cake - in that case, I have PLENTY of time). I want people around me who can relate, who can be open and honest and not afraid to admit that this motherhood gig is no cakewalk.

When we give ourselves permission to admit that we have days when it feels like we weren't cut out for this, I think it helps us to enjoy and appreciate and relish in the multitude of fun and down-right hilarious days of motherhood as well.

In real motherhood, you can't have one without the other.

*This post is a part of Mama Kat's Thursday Writer's Workshop, hosted at Mama Kat's Losin It.

Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?

Woo hoo! Time for another Writer's Workshop with Mama Kat. This week's prompt:
What are you afraid of? Bop on over to Mama's Losin' It to check out more Writer's Workshop submissions. You'll be glad you did. Pinky promise, dude. ;)

There are a few things that scare me in life. Some? Well, some worse than others. But, I feel like keeping this post humorous and not too heavy, so here are some of my more petty fears. We'll save some of the deeper, darker ones for another day.

Ok, so - what freaks me out?

Let's start with crickets. Those nasty, nasty, creatures. If I'm camping, crickets are one of my favorite sounds. But, if one gets in my house? Oh, you better watch OUT. I know they're small. I know they're harmless. But, you can never tell which way the darn, frickin' things are going to hop. So, I'm afraid to whack 'em, because I'm afraid they're going to do their crazy, spastic cricket jump and land on my face or something. Crickets just give me the heeby jeebies. As do any spiders that are not daddy long legs. And, while we're at it, let's add earwigs and centipedes to the list.

Let's see, what else scares me...

Sharts. I'm afraid of getting a shart in public. Seriously, people. This is no joke. I could be walking along in Wal-Mart, just happily cruising the aisles - joyous that I am alone, without a screaming child and without a husband who thinks he is being sneaky by putting powdered donuts and a box of 87 hot and spicy barbecue chicken wings in the cart, thinking I won't notice - and feeling like I have to toot. Farting in big places is not a problem, if you know it will be quiet fart (SBD, anyone?). There are so many people around that, shoot - who is actually going to know it's YOU, right?! But, if you shart (it's when you think it's just a fart, but you actually...uh, need I say more?), then there's no hiding it. And I do NOT pack my purse the way I pack Kaylee's diaper bag. I do NOT pack an extra outfit for myself. So, this is something that scares me.

I'm also afraid of following too closely behind people on the highway, which is why I always give a minimum 2 second following distance, just like I was taught in driver's ed. I know EXACTLY where this fear stems from. I was the passenger in my friend's car when we were on a very crazy freeway, and there was a domino effect car crash in which we rear ended someone who rear ended someone else. Car got dented up, but we were fine and dandy. But, she was following waaaay too closely, and I think we could have avoided the collision had she had at least a safe distance between the cars. Now, this fear puts my husband into fits of laughter when he drives and I'm his passenger. If I the person in front of us taps their brakes and he doesn't slow down at all, my arms instinctually flail about as if I'm about to brace for impact.

I'm also afraid of scary teenagers, public transportation, and someone busting into my house while I'm sleeping.

What scares YOU?

Weight just a minute now...

So, not too long ago, I decided to break up with my scale.

Nada. No more. Hasta la vista. It's done. We're over. I'm through.

It was causing too many problems. I'd step on it a couple times a day, or at least once every day. I'd freak out over fluctuations in my weight and I'd beat myself up, telling myself things like, "Yep, shouldn't have eaten all that pepperoni pizza. You need more salads!" "Well, if you would have gotten off your lazy butt and gone to the gym this probably wouldn't have happened..." And on and on and on.

Weighing myself constantly had quite the little snowball effect on me because every time I got off that scale, I found it necessary to stop and look in the mirror at critique myself from head to toe.

I'd look in the mirror, see a zit - get up closer in the mirror and notice a wrinkle, and another zit, and holy mackerel when was the last time I got my eyebrows waxed?!?!

I'd get dressed in the morning and analyze my lovely stretch marks and stand sideways to see how far my belly stuck out. I'd notice blemishes, sagging (why, WHY?!?!?), and a little extra chub a dub dub here and there.

I'd try on pants I knew were too small, and I'd get upset that I couldn't fit into them anymore. I'd tell myself I looked frumpy and tired and that I was just letting myself go.

It was exhausting, and it was a real bummer.

But, before I go any further, I must admit that this break-up was not my idea. I was inspired by Summer at Le Musings of Moi. Summer shared her own struggles with weight and body image issues, and stressed the importance of all of us women recognizing that we are beautiful, and we shouldn't let our scales tell us otherwise. She talked about getting rid of her scale because it was torturing her, too.

I thought it sounded like a good idea - I friggin' hated my scale, so why not give it a shot, right?

So, I gave up my scale cold turkey, and I haven't stepped on it since.

I can't even begin to tell you what a difference it has made all around. I mean, shoot! I know that weight fluctuates throughout the day - weighing in each day is ridiculous, and really, it doesn't even matter. I am at a healthy weight, so there was no reason to be obsessing over it. I literally had no reason I needed to be setting foot on that scale. It was almost like I just wanted to torture myself. I don't understand it.

When I ditched the scale and decided to do my very best to look for my beauty instead of my flaws, my confidence in myself changed. A lot.

I got new pants. Pants that fit. I'm not the same lady I was before I had my baby. I have fewer brain cells, a tad less of my sanity intact, and my boobs, butt, hips, thighs and everything else will never be the same again. It's the nature of motherhood.

So, instead of trying to fit into the mold of my pre-baby self (and all the pre-baby clothes that fit that particular mold), I am learning to accept this new body - sags, stretch marks, extra fluff and all. Because I'm fine. I'm fine just the way I am.

I only wear clothes that make me feel good. If it's baggy, or if it's too tight and uncomfortable, I don't wear it.

After ditching the scale, I've found myself wanting to take better care of myself. I have fun fixing up my hair and my makeup, and I can look in the mirror and smile back.

If I go a week without exercising, it's okay because I just do what I can when I can, and I do my best to stay fit. Sometimes my best is once in two weeks, and sometimes my best is three times a week. It just depends.

I let myself enjoy decadent, delicious foods that I love. I just do it in moderation, and I make sure I'm choosing healthy things as well. If I'm choosing, for the most part, to eat healthy and throwing in a few things here and there that are a bit more on the high-calorie side (translation: a bit more on the freakin' delicious side), then that's fine, and there's no reason to beat myself up for enjoying cookies, truffles and Cheetos. There are things I love that I am going to enjoy, and I'm not going to deprive myself of them out of the fear of gaining a little weight.

So scale, to be honest - I don't miss you. I don't miss your stupid numbers, your blinking sign telling me to wait, and your stupid error message when I stepped on you too soon.

I don't miss the never-ending self criticism and low confidence that you encouraged in me.

Scale - you are stupid, you are ugly, and your mother dresses you funny. So there.

(This post is a part of Mama Kat's Thursday Writer's Workshop.)

Don't mind me. I'm just using my imagination.

It's that time again. Time for Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop, and this week I am so excited about the prompt because I get to imagine what I would do if I had $400 to spend. That's pretty amazing, considering my monthly allowance is about 20 bucks.

Of course, Mama Kat's prompt said I had to talk about ONE (and it was in all caps) thing that I would spend the money on. But, that's just not how I roll. If I've got a big wad of cash, I see how many things I can get with it. Plus, I can't really think of a $400 product that I want at the moment.

So, join me as I happily pretend that I could actually have all of these things. All at once.

Alright - so, I've got myself $400.

First, I would hit the mall. Duh.

I waltz into The Buckle, and I buy myself a pair of Lucky brand jeans. Because they always fit just right, and I haven't been able to wear a pair since I was 16 and no other brand of jeans fit my short legs. They are insanely expensive, but so well constructed. I've missed my Lucky jeans, so that's my first purchase.
























$400 - $99 = $301

Since I'm at the mall, I think I'll head on down to Barnes and Noble. I shall order a Chai Latte made with soy milk.


















$301 - $3.15 = $297.85

Gosh darn it, now I'm hungry. Guess I'll take a piece of crumble coffee cake, too.

















$297.85 - $1.85 = $296

Well, would you look at the time, it's still before 6 p.m. I think I'll go catch a matinee. So, one ticket to see I Love You, Man - $5. Can of soda - $0. Kit Kat from home $0. Having a purse big enough to smuggle in movie treats - Priceless. :)


$296 - $5 = $291

















Ok, well. There just happens to be a salon in the same complex as the theeatah, so I think I need to stop in and treat myself...

About 3 years ago I received a gift certificate for an Aveda botanical skin resurfacing (natural alternative to microdermabrasion) facial, and it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. SO. I'll take one of those...
















And, my feet deserve some royal treatment since I trekked around the mall and wore them out. Plus, they look horrendous, and I want them to look beautiful. So, I'll take one of these, too, please. Spa style, with a parrafin wax dip, salt scrub, THE WORKS.


















Ahhhh....I feel relaxed just talking about it. So, let's tally up the remaining cash money.

$291 - $85 facial = $206 - $65 pedicure = $141

By this time, I'm so relaxed I probably shouldn't be driving, so I head home to do some online shopping.

First purchase? A case of these puppies. Hey, I need to restock my at-home stash, and there have been many times I wish I had a six pack around, but I didn't, so now all will be well with the world...





















$141 - $26.99 = $114.01

Next, I head to kohls.com. But, this next purchase needs an explanation. First off, these shoes are on sale. Second, in real life, I would never buy these shoes because I know I would twist my ankle and quite possibly even break it. But, I love these shoes, I've always wanted a pair, and this thing is all pretend anyway, so back off. I'm buying these shoes, dammit.

















$114.01 - $32.99 = $81.02

And, I need a dress to go with the shoes...














$81.02 - $67.50 = $13.52

These beauties should top off the outfit.























$13.52 - $20 on etsy = negative $6.48

Hey, what my husband doesn't know won't hurt him. ;)

Food - it's a love/hate thang

It's once again time for Writer's Workshop over at Mama Kat's Losin' It.



So, here's the question I've chosen to go with this week:

What is an unpleasant experience you had eating?

I'd rather not tell you about specific times I've had unpleasant experiences eating, like the time I realized I'd suddenly developed an allergy to bananas as an adult. Not lovely. Not lovely at all.

I won't tell you about the time I went picking raspberries in the woods with my family as a child and ate a *few* too many and had to lollygag behind everyone, telling them to go on ahead because I had to "pee."

Those things are none of your business.

SO. Let me tell you about my current love/hate relationship with food, and why it's been, in some ways, rather unpleasant lately.

Let me first start off by telling you that I LOVE food. Always have, always will.

I love carbs and I have a killer sweet tooth. I also like some healthy foods, but let's be real - it's way more fun (and therapeutic) to eat things that are bad. Come on - spear of celery or Krispy Kreme donut? Yeah...

In high school, I was 110 lbs. - it didn't matter what type of physical activity I did or did not do. It didn't matter what kind of food I did or did not eat. I could do whatever my little heart desired, and I didn't gain a pound.

The day I turned 18 something terrible happened.

I guess since I was technically a "grown-up" my body decided to start behaving like one. That meant that I could no longer eat anything and everything that sounded good, and I could't expect to stay small by sitting on my butt watching I Love Lucy marathons while eating pepperoni pizza dipped in Ranch dressing.

Sure, my metabolism was changing, but I did alright, I guess. I didn't weigh myself all that much, and I was basically okay with my weight. I took a fitness class each semester in college, and I was being more intentional about choosing healthier foods.

Then I got a miserable job straight out of college. I was on the road the majority of the time, and I was dealing with some really heavy situations that were pretty horific. Add that to the fact that I had ZERO support from my bosses, no way of really dealing with all the stress and sadness I was seeing day in and day out, and I was putting in a good 50 hours/week, but getting no overtime. I was basically volunteering to be an even more miserable person.

You bet your booty I was always helping myself to the donuts, pastries, cakes, and breads that were in the break room.

If I had to sit in my cooped up little office with no windows writing about how children were being abused, I felt absolutely entitled to enjoy a sweet treat whenever I wanted to. They tasted good, and they made me happy, and there was not much else at work to be happy about.

After nearly a year of torturing myself and realizing it was literally going to be the job or my sanity that would have to go, I quit. And I've never regretted that decision. Not for one SECOND.

During my time at that stupid ass job, I gained a lovely amount of weight. I had to buy new clothes because I could not fit into mine anymore. At all. Couldn't even fake it. Quitting did wonders for my mental well-being, and I decided it was time to do something about my physical well-being, too.

I got online, checked out Weight Watchers online (I knew people that had success with the in-person WW in the past, and it seemed like a realistic and healthy way to lose weight), and discovered that I had a pretty wide range of what was considered to be a healthy weight for my age, gender, and height. I was 13 pounds heavier than the heaviest recommended weight.

That might not seem like a lot, but it was to me. I'd never been so unhealthy and felt so crappy about myself. I hated having to buy bigger clothes, and I knew that I was eating as a way to deal with stress.

So, I did the Weight Watchers thing, and it worked tremendously. I loved it. I lost 18 pounds.

By the time I was done, I was actually 2 sizes smaller than the size I'd been happy with before I started gaining weight. I was fit, I was energized, and I felt great about myself.

The Thursday after I hit my final goal weight, I hit up Old Navy and bought the smallest size pants I'd ever worn (well, since I started wearing women's sizes and not girl's sizes anyway). I was ecstatic!

The very next day I found out I was pregnant with Kaylee. Nice joke, huh?!?! I haven't seen the likes of those pants SINCE. :) I thought it was pretty funny.

It was like God said, "Hey! Great job! You're totally skinny now, and now that you've proved to yourself that you can do it, you can just go right ahead and pack those cute capris away in a box in the garage because you probably won't be seeing them again. Uh, EVER."

(Just for the record - Kaylee's totally worth it. She's way cooler than those pants.)

So, all that to say that lately, I've been getting concerned about the numbers rising on the scale, yet again.

I got to my pre-baby weight real fast after having Kaylee, and I think a lot of that can be attributed to breastfeeding - apparently it's supposed to burn a butt-load of calories. But, I was SO over breastfeeding when Kaylee hit 9 months old, and that's when I began to ride the weight roller coaster again.

I know it's not out of control at this point, and realistically, I've just got a few pounds to eliminate. In my book, I am happy with my body when my clothes fit, and the number on the scale doesn't matter quite as much (although, of course, it still matters a little bit), as long as I am confident in my clothes, and as long as I feel healthy and fit.

That has NOT been the case lately. Pants - oh, how I've missed my favorite pants. The pile-on of extra poundage happens so quietly - one day you just wake up and it's like, "DANG. When did THAT happen."

So, I've decided to do something about it, and I'm really taking it seriously. Last week I went to the gym 5 times - did some Mommy and Me classes, aerobics, and just some basic cardio stuff followed by some light weight training. It felt fabulous. I felt skinnier when I left (even thought I wasn't), and I felt really good about myself. Just knowing that I'm consciously choosing to do something to have a healthier self makes a huge difference.

So, last week I jumped back on the exercise bandwagon, but even for that whole week, my hang up continued to be with food. I didn't want to say no to the three dinner rolls and lemon cheesecake at my mother-in-laws (along with a few other side dishes and the main dish). I was willing to work out, but I wasn't willing to give up the decision to eating anything that tasted good, and however much of it that I wanted.

But - finally, my stubborn self has come around, and I'm going to be eating healthier, too.

No more "grazing" on snacks all day. No more "just one Hershey's kiss" that turns into 17 Hershey's kisses (seriously - 17). No failure to plan healthy lunches. No more. NO. MORE.

Today I ate a salad with leafy green lettuce (not the non-nutritive iceberg crap), sliced turkey (97% fat free, thankyouverymuch), and dried cranberries, with that sweet spritzer salad dressing that has 1 calorie per squirt.

It was GOOD. It was full of flavor, and it even satisfied my sweet tooth. I was still hungry when it was gone, so I ate an apple, and I was good. to. GO. until dinner time.

I can DO this. I've done it before, and I can do it again. I know I can.

Let's just hope I don't get knocked up after I hit my goal weight and get back into my skinny pants this time...

Because there's nothing wrong with playing in traffic

There were certain things I thought I'd never let Kaylee do. But, in the past year, I've loosened up a bit, and I've realized that flexibility and a laid-back attitude are definitely the way to go.

Now I let her do all sorts of things.

I let her shred toilet paper all over the house because it keeps her occupied and allows me to do very important things like pay the bills, clean the kitchen, and watch Grey's Anatomy.


I let her have tastes of sweet stuff like chocolate cake and sugary desserts.


I let her go out in public with food in her hair.


I let her lick rocks. Gross, I know. Whatever...I took it away after a couple minutes, okay?


I let her crawl around the house with dirty socks hanging out of her mouth.


I let her watch TV.

I let her play in traffic.

I let her put a pacifier back in her mouth after it's fallen on the floor (without washing it off - the horror!!!).

I let her chomp on jalapenos when her gums hurt from teething.

I let her go to bed without a bath some nights.

Because - ya know, some things just aren't worth getting all worked up over...

*This post is a part of Mama Kat's Thursday Writer's Workshop.

I've come a long way, baby

It's been a big year for me.

The biggest thing that's happened for me in the past year was welcoming sweet Kaylee into the world. She's going to be ONE next month - a concept I still can't wrap my head around.

I've learned a crap load of things about myself since becoming a mom. There's things I can do now that I could never do before, and believe it or not - a handful of these things actually have nothing to do with being a mom.

After Kaylee was born, I doubted myself so much, especially in those first few weeks. I had a really hard time making the adjustment from being just a wife to being a wife and a mother.

But, this past year, my confidence has grown a lot. I think it started when I realized that I can't be a "perfect" mother. I had to face it - Kaylee wouldn't always get a bath every day, a hot, home cooked meal was not always going to be on the table, I wouldn't get to shower every day, and there would not be one single day of my life since the day my baby was born that my entire house would be clean.

Go ahead and insert a big sigh right about here.

Finally realizing that I couldn't live up to my idea of the perfect mother/wife was directly related to a boost in my self-esteem (don't get me wrong - there are still plenty of days when my confidence goes down the crapper...) While I was becoming more confident in my role as a mother, my confidence starting growing in other areas of my life as well.

A year ago, there were so many things I just simply couldn't do.

I couldn't establish and stick to a strict budget without buying "little things" here and there that we may or may not have needed. Now I can.

I couldn't sit on the toilet and pee, while holding a child and talking on my cell phone - all at the same time. Now I can.

I couldn't imagine what it would actually look like to have my living room floor covered in ripped up tissue in a matter of seconds. Now I can.

I couldn't talk on the phone while wiping someone's ass. Now I can totally do that.

I couldn't spend less than about $100 on groceries in a week. Now I can.

I couldn't fit into my favorite pants. Now I can!

I couldn't imagine letting my child sit in front of the TV for 30 minutes (ok - 45 sometimes...) before she was even a year old, just so I could have some peace and quiet. Now I can.

I couldn't walk in to a patient's room at my job and ask them to talk to me about why they wanted to end their life. It was too scary for me, and I just couldn't do it. Now I can.

I couldn't understand why some moms yelled at their kids in the grocery store. Now I can.

I couldn't look at a tiny little turd and even think about just fishing it out of water bare handed - no way in heck, dude! But that changes when you run the risk of your kid eating that little turd. No way I could have done it a year ago. Now I can.

I've come a long way, baby.

I'm a proud, money-savin', butt-wipin', waist-shrinkin', domestically disabled, barehanded turd-wranglin' mom who loses my patience more than I wish I did, and who lets her baby watch TV.

But, I can hold my baby and talk on the cell phone while I pee, so that makes up for everything else, because there's probably a lot of people out there who couldn't do that even if they tried.

This has been another Thursday Writer's Workshop post - made possible by the lovely and talented Mama Kat from Mama's Losin' It.

Imparting my wisdom upon the infant

It's my job as a mother to pass along life's important lessons to my daughter.

As she grows, I'll teach her lessons like The Golden Rule, always look both ways before crossing the street, always say please and thank-you, and why it's probably not a good idea to do cartwheels while wearing a dress.

But, she's only 10 months old. She's a little young to be grasping such concepts, dontcha think?

So, for now, we'll start with something simpler, and perhaps even more important than the lessons learned above.

Today's important lesson: shopping, shoes, and days at the mall are a girl's best friend.

Kaylee was sick last week, so the days that I was home with her were not filled with fun, games, and domestic recreation. Instead of chasing her around the house on my hands and knees in hopes of hearing those high-pitched squeals and deep belly laughs, I was being told by my family members that I had green poop on the back of my forearm and on my pant leg - about a half an hour after said poop had claimed it's residency upon myself.

(And, for those of you who are not putting two and two together in regards to the words "Kaylee," "sick," and me having poop on myself, let me just clarify. It's was Kaylee's poop, not my own.)

Simply put, last week was not fun.

Hands down, today has been the highlight of my week so far. Monday and Tuesday I had to work. Barf-a-roni. But today? Today we were going to have fun.

Kaylee and I hung out here at home in the morning and I did such stimulating and fun activities as putting dinner in the crock pot (tonight's dinner - Easy and Delicious Chicken - click here for the recipe. Very yummy, but next time - no thyme...) and paying bills.

I let her loose in the office while I balanced the checkbook, and before I know it, I hear her little coos and giggles. She makes this certain giggly sound when she sees something in the distance that she knows is off limits, and then she just goes in for the kill.

I turn around and see her reaching for papers on the top of the garbage can. Garbage cans are off limits - so, that explained the whole up-to-no-good giggling she was doing. She crawled away long enough for me to get back to what I was doing on the computer, and then suddenly I hear laughter, the crinkling of paper, and the sound of her feet repeatedly hitting the floor due to sheer excitement on her part.

This is what I saw when I looked down from my chair.



I friggin' cracked UP!

So, not long after the human paper shredder crapped her pants for the 4th time that morning, we set off on our merry little way.

I was about to teach Kaylee all about the importance of a deep and undying love for shopping. I am convinced that it is never too early to start learning this lesson.

We stopped by the salon so my hairdresser could meet Kaylee (by the way, I got a new haircut on my way home from work last night - fab.u.LOUS - I feel like a new woman!), went to Barnes and Noble so she could play for a bit, and it just so happened that there was a SHOE STORE on the way to the car. Could life get any better? Surely I could not properly impart the wisdom of the day upon my child without taking her into a shoe store!

Let me just back up for a second and tell you that before Kaylee was even born, I was determined to make sure she would one day share my love of shoes. I could hardly wait for the day when I could buy her cute little Mary Janes and sparkly pink shoes, and - in fact - when Dennis and I left my OB appointment after the ultrasound where we found out we were having a girl, the first thing we bought for her was a pair of shoes.

Anyway, so - we hear the angels singing as we open the doors to Payless Shoes. Great store, but you need to know that the infant shoe options at Payless are scarce, and I am highly disappointed. But, I still managed to find a totally cute pair of fashionable black boots (on sale for six bucks, thank you very much...) that zip up the side. They are so versatile, and versatility is something every 10-month-old needs in a pair of shoes.

Seriously - they'll go with a pair of jeans, they'll go with a dress and some cute tights, heck - if she's half as cool as I was as a young child, she'll even wear them over her her footie pajamas.

Anyway, back to reality here. So, we finish at Payless, and we're off to the grocery store. Well, ROSS just happened to be on the way to the grocery store, and that's where I got my very first apron not long ago.

I figured there might just be another one there with my name on it (and I still had Christmas money to burn), so of course, we had to stop. And thank heavens we stopped! I found the cutest apron, and it was just 8 dollars - heck YES!!!

Check it OUT! So cute, right? It's got a frilly hem and a cute little pocket - I just love it. And, because this post is already overloaded with pictures, I did a two-for-one and put her new shoes in the picture, too, just because I know you want to see them.

It was such a great day. I really feel like Kaylee is starting to understand the fact the shopping is so utterly important. You may think she's too young to really understand, but as we approached the register at Payless, she would not let go of her new shoe. She was in love. She held that shoe close until I pried it out of her little hands. And then I gave myself a pat on the back for being such a freaking awesome mom. I may not have a clean house and my child may go in public with squash in her hair from time to time, but I know what's important, and teaching my baby girl to love shoes is VERY important.

Well done, Sera. WELL. DONE.

Mama Kat is also an apron fanatic, and she's giving away another apron this week - head on over and enter her giveaway, and while you're there, be sure to check out the other Writer's Workshop posts.

Writer's Workshop - the impossibly fun poem

It's that time again. Time for Mama Kat's Thursday Writer's Workshop. I decided to be super brave this week and write a poem. Remember my sorry attempt at a haiku during my very first Writer's Workshop post? I'm won't lie to you. It sucked, and I promise this poem will be way, way better.

First, you need to understand that I'm not a poem kind of girl, and I wasn't sure if it would even be possible for me to actually pull this off. I've always loved writing, but poems are just not my forte. I suck at rhyming and all stuff that poems are made of. But, I like a good challenge, so I chose the prompt about writing a poem. These are the requirements:

Write a 26-line poem using all the letters of the alphabet, where the first line starts with the letter "A," the second "B," the third "C," etc., culminating with the final line starting with "Z."

I sat down and started writing a poem all about baby poop and baby barf and how I hadn't showered in 2 days, and I was pretty impressed with myself for the line that began with the letter F. The preceding lines had been about dealing with said poop and such, and it was high time for an expletive, so the line went like this: "Frick, frick-a-frack, cock-a-doodly-doo." I was too proud of that not to share it with you. Unfortunately, that little piece of genius didn't make the final cut because my poopy, barfy, non-showery poem sucked.

It just wasn't coming together. So, I deleted what I had, took a step back, and decided that I needed to write something that didn't have to do with being a mom or my newest obsession with the Duggars.

So, without further adieu, I present you with my poetic masterpiece...

Alphabet Soup

All things that are chocolate,
Books that aren't true.
Candy and
Daisies, but not
Even the
Flu.
Girly accessories,
Headbands and rings.
I'm talking about all of my favorite things.
Jumpin' Jehosephat - that's fun to say!
Kitty cats,
Lollipops and steak
Marinade.
Norah Jones, but not
Oprah.
Pink stuff and juice.
Quite frankly I even like Dr. Suess.
Randy from Idol and
Seattle Grace.
Try to hurt me and I'll spray you with mace.
Umbrellas in rainstorms and
V-Dubya bugs.
Weddings, my family, and
Xeptional rugs.
Yard sales, and coupons - some sparkly bling.
Zeze are a few of my favorite things.