Buckle Up

A pregnant friend recently lamented - on Facebook, naturally - that she couldn't enjoy the thrill of a roller coaster ride now that she's expecting.
Well, there are a lot of things you can't do when you're "with child"... like... drink alcohol, eat sushi, or - at a certain point - see your toes. 
But that all pales in comparison to the many joys of pregnancy... acid reflux, back pain, a perpetual state of tiredness. 
OK... maybe I'm being a little too dramatic honest here. 
The point is that after nine ten months of waddling around feeling like all eyes are on your swollen feet and your protruding belly, out comes a beautiful, innocent baby who just takes your breath away. 
But pregnancy and motherhood are indeed a roller coaster ride in and of themselves. 
THE ROLLER COASTER RIDE OF A LIFETIME.  

A Mommy Is Made Takes Vanity Fair's Proust Questionnaire

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
At 13 - a bag of Smartfood popcorn 
At 20 - you don't want to know
Now - lying in bed with my husband and daughter on a lazy Sunday morning 

What is your greatest fear?

At 13 - middle school

At 20 -  graduation

Now - paying for college, regaining my pregnancy weight, my daughter getting too old to snuggle

Yes, Virginia

There is a Santa Claus.


Sometimes he just wears a different hat. 


Now that the winter has hit us with some fierce temperatures, my stroller workout class has permanently moved to the mall until spring.  This is fine, except for the fact that the mom brigade has had to maneuver around last-minute Christmas shoppers and there's seasonal music blasting from the overhead speakers as we sprint and squat ourselves silly to ward off the effects of sugar cookies and sliced ham. 
We start and end our routine not far from Santa's workshop, which opens shortly after class concludes.  
A few weeks ago a jolly looking fellow sporting a big white beard, regular street clothes, and a small plastic cooler approached our huddle of moms and passed relatively unnoticed through the doors of an out-of-business storefront where he presumably transformed into St. Nick for hordes of children visiting the mall with their parents that day. 

The Ice Queen Cometh

Know what's worse than these frigid temperatures we're having? 
Trying to get out of the house with an infant in these frigid temperatures. (OK, maybe it's worse if you have multiples, I'll give you that.)
But seriously, it's bad enough trying to venture out into the real world with a child on a normal day.

Cute...

And yeah, all those cute, hoody buntings are just to DIE FOR when it's cold outside, but if your kid is anything like mine, trekking out in below-freezing temps is like preparing for war... and my daughter wants nothing more than to jump ship and go AWOL. 

The Simple Things

At this time last year I was three months pregnant and dreading the winter weather.  I feared the dark, dreary days of December, January, and February, when I would have to trudge through snow and sleet all the while worrying that I would slip on an ice patch and go into preterm labor.  I wished I didn't have to spend another six to seven months watching my navel transform into a creepy mess and hoped that I would be able to wear a bathing suit again.  One of the few things that made me feel better was a long, hot bubble bath followed by a few thick layers of anti-stretch mark cream (it works!), followed by an obscene amount of chocolate chip cookies.

Curtain Call

I've always especially loved this time of year...

the time spent with family, the lights, the music, the search for the perfect gift, the joy that beams from a child's face when they see Santa. 

But for me, the holiday season has always been marked by dreams of Snow Queens and Sugar Plum Fairies. 

10 Games to Play With Your Infant

So now that the weather has turned frigid and it gets dark at, like, 3 p.m., I find myself a little bored with this whole stay-at-home mom thing.  I've been trying to think of some fun activities for Mackenzie and I to do around the house.  But seeing as she's only six months old, it's a little tricky.  For example, we can't finger paint, do each other's hair, or play house.  We also can't seem to talk about boys, share a bottle of wine, or get a mani/pedi together.
Since that's the case, here's what I've come up with so far...

Time Out

So I finally got around to using a gift certificate for a prenatal -- that's right, PRENATAL -- massage that my mother-in-law had given me back in April.  Seeing as I never used it while I was pregnant, I fished it out of my drawer and booked an appointment for an hour of sheer bliss.  The problem is that I'm never any good at actually relaxing during a spa treatment.  While I do love massages (who doesn't?), I can rarely manage to close my eyes and completely clear my head of everything.  I'm the same way with yoga.  I love taking a class that's fast-paced with a lot of sweat and challenging poses. But put me in a room with a bunch of people meditating and chanting "om" and I can't find my "happy place" to save my life. 
So while James, my massage "technician" was working his magic, here are some of the thoughts that ran through my brain...

Reduced Speed Ahead

When I was a teenager I was always eager to reach life's next milestone.  I couldn't wait to start dating, to learn how to drive, to go off to college.  My mother warned me, "Don't wish your life away."
Now, years later, I find myself heeding her advice.
I've spent the last six months wondering when my daughter will reach her next milestone. When will she sleep through the night? Roll over? Sit up unassisted? Crawl? Feed herself finger foods? Learn how to drive? Go off to college? 
When she was first born, just transitioning from the bassinet to the crib was a major accomplishment.
Now things seem to be moving pretty fast even for me, and I wonder if I've spent too much time worrying about the next step and not living in the moment.
Here are a few milestones I looked forward to, and why I find myself looking back at the good old days.

10 Reasons To Give Thanks

2010 has given me the greatest gift of all: bigger boobs.  It's also brought me a beautiful and healthy daughter who's become the love of my life.
With the holidays rapidly approaching I thought it was time to reflect on the things I'm most thankful for this year.

For Your Information... Keep It In Check

I've recently wondered if raising a child in the Information Age is a detriment to both the child and their parents.  
We all know that information is a good thing and that too much information is a bad thing.
But when it comes to parenting, TMI is a really bad thing.
For Doug and I it all started with my 20-week ultrasound appointment.

A Mommy's Christmas Wish List

Really? My neighbor still has Halloween decorations on her lawn and there's already a Santa's workshop set up at the mall? C'mon people, we can't even enjoy Thanksgiving first?

If the rest of the world is going to jump the gun and force Christmas on us this early, then I'm going to be just as obnoxious and make my wish list public, no matter how inappropriate or embarrassing it may be. 

Now, if any of you are expecting this to include such things as, "world peace," "an end to global hunger," or "a clean Earth for our children," I have two words for you: THINK AGAIN. 

Not that I don't hope for them... they're just, uh, on another list... yeah... ahem... stay tuned for that.

Oh, The Irony

With colder temperatures on the horizon it's only a matter of time before my stroller fitness group moves inside for the winter. 
Today's class was held at the mall due to rain.  As I jogged in the herd of mothers, passing the appliance department of Sears along the way, I wondered how I'd survive the next several months of indoor classes. 
See... the mall we work out at is relatively quiet; aside from a handful of stores that have managed to defy an economy that's in the dumps, the place has basically gone dark. 
What kills me is the fact that two of the businesses that are still standing are Auntie Anne's and Victoria's Secret. 

YUM!

Oh, the irony! 

Roll With It, Baby

A good news producer always hopes for the best, prepares for the worst, and rolls with the punches.  They're able to change course in the blink of an eye, and the adrenaline rush that accompanies that sudden shift in plans motivates them to succeed. 
They start their day with a solid rundown of the top news stories, allot the appropriate amount of time to each report, and amp up the story-telling with all the bells and whistles that adorn cable news programs these days: fast-moving animations, interactive graphics, electrifying sound effects.  
A blank canvas comes alive... 

Hey, Soul Sister

I never thought I'd join a moms group, simply because I never understood the appeal of forcing yourself to be friends with a total stranger just because you both have a kid. Nevertheless, I've found an amazing group of women who like to workout together and take pride in setting a healthy example for their children. We meet weekdays to get back in shape after the beautiful miracle of childbirth ruined our bodies.
This class has done wonders for my post-baby figure, but the real reward is having a support network to lean on, learn from, and laugh with.

Shock and Awww

Shortly after the U.S. launched its Shock and Awe campaign in Iraq Doug and I received an urgent page from the news desk explaining that we needed to get to work immediately. 
It was just after midnight and we were in for the long haul. 
We were breaking in to taped programming and would be on air with wall-to-wall coverage for the foreseeable future. 
I'll never forget the astonishing pictures coming out of there and the BOOM, BOOM, BOOM that echoed after each air strike. 
Then... an unsettling silence. 
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, with the night sky lighting up.
Again... an unsettling silence.

When The Parent Becomes The Child

I hadn't heard Mackenzie cry this badly since she was three weeks old.
Except back then she'd eventually tire herself out and fall asleep.  
If that didn't work there was always some sort of trick -- the baby swing, white noise, swaddling -- that would put her to bed for at least a few hours.
Doug and I would run through the baby playbook until something worked. 
The other night was a different story. 
I was visiting with my parents and we'd had a jam-packed week. 
Mackenzie -- now five months old -- was over-stimulated, over-tired, and over-turned (she's started rolling from side to side in the crib and keeps landing face down, which totally freaks her out sometimes).
My parents and I took turns rocking her, cradling her, and singing to her.
I must have nursed her to bed three times in 20 minutes.
Nothing worked for long.

The 5 Scariest Things About Halloween This Year

1. My zombie walk to the crib at 4 a.m.
2. Not being able to tell if Mackenzie is breathing when she sleeps on her stomach
3. The massive poop that comes after her morning banana
4. The amount of candy I've already eaten
5. The fact that I can already picture the day when my daughter wants to dress up as a sexy cat, a sexy cop, a sexy Snow White, or a sexy pirate (NOT. HAPPENING.)

Rest Stop Roulette

First lesson in parenting: never wake a sleeping baby.

This is a good rule of thumb when you're close to home, but on a road trip it gets a little tricky.

Take for example our recent visit to grandma and grandpa's house.

Doug and I were proud of ourselves for not stopping the car at the first hint of a cry, a rookie mistake we made on our first out-of-state excursion.

This time, we were a little more seasoned, and Mackenzie eventually found her thumb and soothed herself back to sleep.

But after that, we were two players in a game of what Doug dubbed "Rest Stop Roulette" where every exit with a Roy Rogers, Taco Bell, or Carvel was potentially deadly. 

SAHM I Am

I recently received a Save the Date to my 10-year college reunion next June.  
I won't be attending because it's the same weekend that Mackenzie turns one and Doug has already started party planning. 
It got me thinking though about how a conversation would go with one of my old classmates if the reunion were held today. *In my head this former classmate is a beautiful, single, childless woman who has become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company; it makes the story more dramatic, so just go with it.*


ME: Hello, my name is SAHM. I'm a Stay-At-Home Mom (thanks for the clever acronym, Daniela). 
I went to college, earned a degree, got a great job, and now 80% of my day revolves around diapers and laundry.
I've recently been promoted to House Manager, which is great because I was thinking that I really haven't been challenged enough, what with the child rearing and everything. 


(insert eye roll here)


OLD CLASSMATE: So, SAHM, what do you DO all day?

The Things They Do

There are certain things that only a four month old could manage to pull off without any repercussions.
What would the world be like if we were able to get away with acting like Mackenzie and...

Farted in public
Spit on people
Pulled each other's hair
Burped out loud, and in someone's face
Groped the nearest pair of boobs
Ate our toes
Pooped our pants
Hit people for no reason
Slept all day
Stayed up all night

Man Up, Mama

I'm pretty sure that my neighbors have called child protective services on me today.


You see, Mackenzie has learned to make some new sounds this week, and they're just plain frightening.
She's got the fake, attention-grabbing cough down pat.
So to anyone who's not privy to her little charade it may seem as if I'm standing idly by while she chokes.
She's also managed to create a sensational scream that sends me running to her side in a total panic... only to discover that she's actually fine and will someday become an excellent actress. 
So now I'm aware of the fact that she's a big phony and just wants to be coddled all day (so I can't pee, eat, or breathe without her attached to me). But other people don't know she's faking.
Inevitably she wins.
I can't possibly let the entire neighborhood think I'm neglecting my child, can I?
I've toyed with the idea and my simple conclusion is no.
That said, this game has continued for the better part of the week and I've just about had it.
I've spent most of today asking Mackenzie why she's bullying mommy and if she thinks it's funny to watch her own mother teeter on the brink of a nervous breakdown.
I'm still waiting for her to answer.
So far she's only given me the stink eye. Five seconds later she's scrunching her nose and giggling and it damn near melts my heart.
I've been telling myself to stay strong, to not be broken, to man up and call her bluff. 
But at the end of the day it's Mackenzie's world and I'm just living in it.

Who DOES This???

It used to be that I was known at the cosmetic counters at the mall (yes, by name, and yes, that's embarrassing) ... Now I'm known at the customer service counter at Buy Buy Baby (yes, still by name, yes, still embarrassing).
Gone are the days where I'd peruse the latest anti-aging creams at Clinique and drop a hundred bucks on lip gloss and liner at Lancome.
I'm a mommy, and mommies still buy stuff.  They just don't buy stuff for themselves anymore.
Instead of spending money on expensive anti-cellulite creams (which don't work anyway, let's face it), I'm buying fragrance-free diaper rash ointment.
Instead of testing dozens of foundations to find the perfect match, I'm trying different diaper brands in search of a no-leak solution.

10 Things Every New Mommy Should Know

1. You are not alone. The woman across the street is also fantasizing about wine and a warm bath at this very moment.
2. Give it time. Your pants WILL fit again.
3. What worked five minutes ago will not work five minutes from now.
4. Strangers feel the need to give you parenting advice. It is your right to tell them off.
5. At some point you will have to improvise. Embrace your inner Mommy MacGyver.
6. Your patience is never done being tested.
7. Sometimes your baby will laugh and cry in the same breath. You are likely to do the same.
8. It is perfectly acceptable to consider a piece of string cheese and some crackers a meal.
9. Sleep is overrated anyway.
10. You are doing your very best.

Looking Back, It Wasn't SO Bad...

It's no secret I didn't love being pregnant, what with the weight gain, heartburn, and constant need to pee.  I was actually happy to be hooked up to a catheter for two days post delivery just so I didn't have to run to the bathroom every five minutes. (Oddly enough, now that I have a baby, escaping to the bathroom for 15 seconds to pee is my only solace during the day).


I'll never miss waddling around with swollen ankles or breathlessly climbing stairs.  
But even pregnancy has its perks; here's what I loved most about bearing a bump... 

10-4

TEN THINGS I'VE LEARNED IN THE LAST FOUR MONTHS

1. Hillary Clinton was right, it does take a village.
2. Find time for yourself.
3. Laughter is the best medicine.
4. Sometimes a deep breath is all you need.
5. Our mothers are heroes.
6. Each moment is fleeting, so cherish them all.
7. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. 
8. Push-ups aren't the enemy, the cookie jar is.
9. It does get easier, then it gets harder, then it gets easier again.
10. All you need is love.

Paging Super Mommy, 15 Minutes Before Air

You know that scene in "Broadcast News" where Joan Cusack sprints to the control room in order to get a tape on air? That was me in my previous life. 

Now it's more of a cross between getting slimed on "You Can't Do That On Television" and running the obstacle course on "Double Dare" -- I know, totally breaking out the '80s references today... Maybe I'm missing my youth. 

On Friday my two worlds -- past and present -- collided when I went back to work, my first day as a freelance producer.  

I'm happy to report that it was nice being back, although I'm glad I'll be spending most of my time as a stay-at-home mom, despite it being the most difficult job in the world and the fact that there's so much poop involved.

*The Exersaucer Debacle Concludes

If you read Wednesday's post about the Exersaucer Debacle you'll be happy to learn that I'm once again an idiot.
Determined to put this thing together before the weekend, I went back to the store where I purchased the first Exersaucer and bought another one.  The girls at customer service remembered that I'd had to return the first one due to three missing pieces.  They insisted on making sure the new one had all of its parts, and opened the box in front of me to examine the pieces. 

HELP! Bumpers and Solids and Diapers, Oh My!

 

Dear Loyal Readers (yes, all twelve of you),

I should start by letting you all know that someone has taken my child and replaced her with a monkey. 

In the past week, my perfect little sleeper has turned into a hootin' n' hollerin' little animal, keeping me up all night long.  As I sleepily stumble into the nursery and peer over her crib she crinkles her nose and laughs at me, as if it's all a big joke.

Of course, her goofy, gummy grin is the cutest thing in the world, even at 3 a.m. so I don't mind her ruse all that much.  

Don't Listen To Your Mother

I always thought that if I had a daughter, I'd want her to be exactly like me.  I'd want her to have big dreams and a sense of wonder... to be cautiously curious about the world but never be afraid to take a leap of faith... to believe in true love, second chances, and the idea that all people are inherently good. 

Now that I've watched her grow over the last four months I'm realizing that Mackenzie has already begun to develop her own personality, and I'm starting to think about the things I don't want her to learn from me. 


I don't share my toys.
Anyone who knows me well is fully aware of the fact that I'm a complete and utter psychopath when it comes to cleanliness and clutter.  Not only am I anal retentive about keeping things immaculate, I'm borderline obsessive/compulsive when it comes to keeping things orderly. If a candlestick is a quarter of an inch out of place, steam starts coming out of my ears and I may start to hyperventilate. 

A Budget Is Made

Now that I'm not returning to work full-time and we're a single-income family, Doug has decided that I need to present him with...
a budget.


I'm thinking that this budget isn't going to allow for...
designer handbags
a new fall wardrobe
luxury spa treatments
or a Sephora shopping spree.


Bummer.


Although I have to say that I no longer shop 'til I drop.  In fact, half the things I used to splurge on are now moot.
My handbags have been replaced by diaper bags.
My fall wardrobe now consists of sweats and more sweats, and anything I wear has to be machine washable.
I now consider a daily shower a luxury.
And since I no longer wear a trace of makeup I guess Sephora isn't worth my while.


Regardless, the request of a formal budget seemed, well, formal. I jokingly asked Doug if he was expecting a Power Point presentation.  He sort of half laughed.


A blog entry will have to suffice.

10 Things I Never Thought I'd Google

As I watched Doug change Mackenzie's diaper just days after she was born, I couldn't help but notice what appeared to be...
a second butt hole.
Yes, that's right..


A.


Second.


Butt.


Hole.




At first I thought maybe it was the pain medication going to my head, or the lack of sleep impairing my eyesight... and my judgment.


But no, right there in the middle of her lower back was an extra orifice.
Was I going crazy? What was going on around her little tushy?


I breathed a sigh of relief when Doug admitted that he had also wondered what that little black abyss was all about.  Neither one of us wanted to ask the hospital pediatrician about it, but hey, a second butt hole? That would be cause for concern, no? Might want to check with the doctor and see what that's all about, right?


Turns out it was a small dimple that's common after babies are born.  When poo manages to make its way in there it looks scarier than it really is.  It's since disappeared and I'd almost forgotten all about it until I realized the other day that the black hole was just the start of an endless line of incredibly ridiculous and embarrassing questions we'd be asking doctors, nurses, and the # 1 source for ALL information...


THE INTERNET!

Monday Morning Quarterback

An old friend recently posted the best status update I've seen in awhile.
Her Facebook page read, "I need a wife."
Her male friends had a field day with this one. Just the thought of this cute little mama with a wife gave them a lot to think about.
But my friend rained on their parade pretty quickly, explaining that she needed a wife to help her with all of her unglamorous mommy duties, including but not limited to scraping poop and puke off of baby onesies... Which is pretty much how I started my weekend.
Strip the crib, scrub the mattress pad, spray some Oxy, start a load of laundry.
Strip the crib, scrub the mattress pad, spray some Oxy... you get the picture.


I may not have a wife to help with the cleaning, but I do have Doug, who took Mackenzie downstairs after my first two rounds of "Scrape the Poo" so I could catch a few more Zs.




Our weekends used to entail sleeping in, having a big breakfast, and basically succumbing to the living room couch and our DVR.
Now we're up at sunrise with Mackenzie between us in bed, rubbing the sleepiness out of our eyes as we watch our daughter discover her fingers and toes.  The next few hours resemble a choreographed dance in which we take turns occupying the baby, doing housework, paying bills, cutting coupons, going to the grocery store, and showering.

A Mommy's Top 10 List

10 Things I've Cursed Since Becoming A Mommy


1) snaps: whoever thought it would be wise to add a million of these tiny contraptions to baby clothes never wrestled my child

Mackenzie's "Fussy Pink" room 

2) Sherwin Williams: for thinking it would be cute to name a paint color "Fussy Pink"; I blame the company for every sleepless night I've had 


3) anything that plays one song over, and over, and over: 'nuf said


4) my husband my bathroom scale

And You Thought I Was Cynical

On a recent trip to the grocery store during mommy prime time -- a.k.a Monday 11 a.m., also considered old people prime time -- I ran across a young woman who was dishing out parenting advice at the deli counter. 
Naturally I had Mackenzie buried in the shopping cart surrounded by mounds of produce and nonperishables.  
As I tried to weave my way through the dozen or so customers lollygagging around the case of Boar's Head ham, I was trapped by the grocery gabber. 
"How old?" she asked pointing to the car seat. 
"Almost 4 months," I replied, overestimating a bit since Mackenzie is a little plump for her age (90th percentile in weight, MUST SWITCH HER TO LIGHT BEER).
"Ohhh, you're still in the trenches," said my new friend. 

Not So Fast

If there's one thing I've learned as a new mother it's not to get too cocky.  


Just when you think you've got it all figured out -- the 7 p.m. bedtime, the 2 a.m. diaper change, the 4-hour car ride -- the parenting gods come and poop all over your parade just to remind you that you're human and not infallible. 
I've learned this the hard way, despite multiple warnings from both my father and a good girlfriend who cautioned against getting the least bit confident or comfortable.  
After a brief taste of what it's like to get a good night's rest, I made the mistake of pronouncing my daughter a "great sleeper" as if she'd been training as a gymnast her entire life and had made it to the Olympics. 
That night she was up every two hours like in the early weeks post-partem. 

"Sommmmmmebody's hunnnnnngry!!!!"

What is it with total strangers who think they know what's best for your baby?


On this beautiful Labor Day I found myself at - of all places - the mall.
In my book, pushing a stroller at a moderate pace constitutes as cardio no matter where you are... and as long as I was doing something healthy I could live with the fact that I wasn't enjoying a perfect day outside.


But I digress.


So here we are, on Labor Day, at the mall, and I of course have a total game plan.
Exchange some clothes I received for the baby that aren't seasonal or already don't fit.
In and out, real quick, boom, boom, boom.
But it nevvvver works that way with a lil' one in tow.
The baby serves as a huge distraction for anyone within a two foot radius.
They have to "oooh" and "ahhhh" and give their assessment of your child's physical, mental, and behavioral state.

20 Signs You've Been Made

* Your legs are battered and bruised from carrying a car seat
* You're able to pick up just about anything with your toes
* You can now eat faster than Joey Chestnut
* You've mastered the art of texting while nursing
* You've learned how to fit all of your groceries around the car seat

* You hear "Pop Goes the Weasel" in your head even when the bouncy seat is turned off
* You're never quite sure what day it is
* You've learned how to turn any surface into a changing table
* You find yourself rocking a shopping cart back and forth even when there's no baby in it
* Whatever you usually did with two hands can now be accomplished with one
* You've bathed yourself with baby wipes
* You don't remember the last time you wore your hair down
* You've started buying stain remover in bulk
* You fantasize about taking an uninterrupted shower
* You get your sweatpants hemmed
* You've put yourself in "time out" once or twice
* You've learned to always keep the car moving
* You've come to appreciate automatic doors
* You've wondered why no one has formulated baby whiskey
* You're reminded daily that each moment is fleeting, that this child will soon grow up and leave your side, and you fear the day you'll no longer be needed.

Next Window Please

If you consider how long people have been having babies, you start to wonder why the world isn't more sensitive to the needs of new parents. 
For example, where are all the drive through services for mothers who schlep their kids to and from the post office, the dry cleaners, and the grocery store. I think everyone ought to offer a shopping experience modeled after a fast food joint.  Pay at the first window, pick up at the second.
How much easier would our days be if buying a book of stamps didn't involve having to unhinge the car seat, lock it into the Titanic-sized stroller, open two entrance doors with our asses, elbows, and knees, and stand in line singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" while trying to squeeze in some Kegel exercises?

Getting Crafty

I'm now two months in and I feel like I've been doing this my whole life, even though there are some days I feel like jumping off the roof. Did I mention I quit smoking almost a year ago when I found out I was pregnant and I've been craving a cigarette ever since?

When Fairy Tales are Tall Tales

I always thought I'd be a mom, but never actually pictured myself mothering. Maybe that's why I was shocked at how hard things were at first. Or maybe it's because no one ever shares the unglamorous and often horrid details of parenthood.  
No, it's all fairy tales and pixie dust when you're "expecting" (and when you're in the hospital and the professionals are there to help care for your newborn).