Wednesday, September 9, 2015

She's not a baby any more...

I blinked and she grew up.  How can so much change in such a short period of time?  I am starting to get a slight taste of what so many parents experience when they are sending their baby off to college, and tell them that it feels like yesterday that they were holding them in their arms for the first time.  How is it that when you are on the treadmill for a minute, it feels like an eternity of pain that won’t end, but a year with a child feels like a nanosecond that you would give anything to last just a little bit longer? 

And what is so ironic is how different I felt a short time ago.  Those first few sleepless nights felt like they would never end, and I was BEGGING for time to speed up.  Then once Zoe was sleeping through the night, I wished for one more middle of the night breastfeeding session surrounded by sweet silence with only the sound of her breath.  I remember maternity leave DRAGGING  and telling every stay-at-home mom I knew what saints they were for doing this job 24 hours of Every. Single. Day.  When the day finally came for me to go back to work, I would have given anything for just one more day.  One more ‘lazy’ afternoon of her tiny curled up body snuggled up on my chest. 

I wanted so badly for her to start crawling then walking so I would know that she was on track with all those ridiculous milestones designed to make moms paranoid, only to ask time to stop when she started running away from me.  (Side Bar – I think that the person who came up with the list of what your kid should be doing by each month of their life, is the same jerk who came up with the wedding check list on the knot that makes Brides turn 50 shades of cray because its 3 weeks out and you haven’t hand written your place cards yet.) 

I know it’s irrational, and I wish I could blame it on hormones, but every feeling that I experience as Zoe grows up contradicts each other.  I want her to be brave, independent, and confident.  But I want her to need me.  I want her to walk on her own and get more comfortable in her movements.  But I want to hold and carry her everywhere.  I get so excited every time she learns something new, and can do something on her own.  But I get sad that it is one less thing that she needs me for.  

So as I watch my little girl, who is no longer a baby, run straight into her classroom for the first day of preschool with a huge grin on her face, I felt so proud of that brave, independent, confident girl.  But I couldn’t help but shed a tear because she didn’t need me.  She had it under control.  She gave me my hug, blew me a kiss goodbye and that was it.  My first taste of saying goodbye.  My first step as a parent, needing to let go. 

When Logan and I first found out we were pregnant, I asked him what he was most excited about.  He said he was most excited about teaching her stuff.  Having this little sponge that we get to help learn about the world, and grow into a woman that is a reflection of both of us.  But what I’m quickly learning is that she is going to be teaching us a lot more than we will ever be able to pass along to her.  She has already taught me how to function on 15 minutes of sleep and caffeine, endless amounts of patience, how little you can care about your personal appearance when running errands, and most importantly, how to love UNCONDITIONALLY.  I’ve had more life lessons in 19 months than I can ever imagine giving her in 19 years.  I can’t wait to see what is in store for us… all I ask is… please slow down.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Motherhood gives me the best days of my life… this wasn't that day.

There are some days that can only be described as perfect.  Last Saturday was that day.  Zoe allowed us to sleep in until 9 a.m.  That’s right, 9 a.m.  Feel free to say how much you hate me right now.  Then after we all enjoyed our coffees and milk, we took a nice family walk down to the farmer’s market.  Every little kid wanted to pet Mallory, Zoe smiled and made her sweet talking sounds from her stroller, while Logan and I tasted some of the fine local cuisine from the food trucks.  We then took our sweet angel to the Florida Aquarium so she could fall in love with the ocean the way her mommy does.  She walked around, enjoyed looking at all the colorful fish and was as happy as could be.  Even without a nap, she never once acted cranky or got fussy.  Again, feel free to tell me how much you hate me right now.  When we got home from our day of fun, Zoe continued to play until it was time for her to go to bed.  She went down without a fight at her bedtime, giving us the whole evening to be able to celebrate Valentine’s Day.  It was the best day ever.

Then there are days like Monday… which was not perfect.  Not even close.  It started off with Zoe waking up before our alarm went off.  It is amazing how much 2 minutes makes a huge difference in my attitude.  We got up to greet our happy girl and hurried to feed her so we could both get ready for work.  We both had meetings to prepare for that day, so we didn’t have time to ease into our morning.  So we decided to bring Zoe into the bathroom with us while we took turns taking showers and getting ready.  I put a blanket down on the floor with a few of her favorite toys and she was content. 

I go into the closet to dress while Logan brushed his teeth with Zoe playing at his feet.  Not even 30 seconds later, I hear a smack followed by a distressed cry.  I come into the bathroom where I see Logan holding our blood covered child with the toothbrush laying in the sink.  All I see are blood and teeth particles on my sweet girl’s face.  Apparently she tried to stand up and fell in the process.  I quickly grab her from Logan, so that he can get his composure while I try to calm her down and assess the situation.  Thank goodness that during this time, Margie got to our house and was able to assist.  I was able to hold her and calm her down while Margie cleaned her face and Logan called the pediatrician and pediatric dentist to see what we could do quickly.  Suddenly, those meetings we were both preparing for were a distant thought.  (Side Bar – even though Logan was the one with her, this would have happened to anyone with her.  It was a fluke accident.)

Here comes the good news.  I’ll fast forward through the next hour where Zoe calms down and is no longer in pain, we get to the dentist, get X-Rays done and discover that while she did break her two front teeth, it was the best case scenario in broken teeth.  The roots were not damaged and they are not loose.  So while she will have a busted looking grill, she will still have all her teeth.

Once we all get home and compose ourselves, we go back to business as usual.  Logan and I both got to our meetings and were able to work… mildly still shook up from the morning.  That evening, I took Zoe to her swim lessons since she was acting just fine.  We had a great class where Zoe enjoyed splashing me in the face and swimming like she always does. 

After class, we did the normal dance we always do where I try to change out of my wet clothes while also keeping an eye on Zoe in a bathroom.  It is never a fun process.  I normally sit her on the counter with one hand on her while I try to one-handedly undress out of my wet clothes and put on dry clothes.  All while keeping Zoe from falling, sticking her finger in a socket or something else gross or dangerous.  Then it hits me.  I have to pee.  But what do I do with Zoe?  I can’t leave her on the counter.  She will suicide jump and break all her remaining teeth.  I can’t hold her and pee at the same time… that is a 25 lb. squat that I would be doing with a squirmy child. Plus how the heck do you wipe?  I can’t put her on the floor because, well, that is disgusting.   So I took our towels that are kind of wet and make a makeshift blanket for her, hand her a toy, and try to pee as quickly as I can.  Not quick enough… she instantly starts to crawl off the towels towards a random kid’s bandaid sitting on the floor.  I am able to jump up, mid-stream, just in time to prevent her from putting that nasty germ infested thing into her mouth.  (SHARK TANK OPPORTUNITY – Find a solution to this problem when you have a child that can’t stand and you need to use a public bathroom.  Think of me when you make your first Million.)

I shake off how grossed out I am, wipe all exposed parts of Zoe’s body with a baby wipe, (yes I know that didn’t do anything) and run out to the car.  On the way home I stop at Walgreens to pick up some baby pain reliever to make sure the swelling of Zoe’s mouth goes down and she is able to get a good night’s sleep.  I carry Zoe on my hip and walk into the store and B-Line straight to the baby aisle.  I can’t seem to find any of the baby pain relievers, so I ask a worker nearby if they can point me in the right direction.  After they look at me like I have a 3rd eye on my forehead, they tell me which aisle to go to.  I grab the Infant Tylenol and go to check out.  The woman in front of me kept staring at us, so I thought maybe she was looking at Zoe’s crazy swimmer hair.  I start doing my cat-like pawing at her head to try to make it look better before I am able to grab my meds and leave.  The cashier gives me the same awesome expression as the woman in line and the worker earlier.  I shrug it off, even though this is the first time people haven’t told me how incredibly adorable my child is.  It must be her teeth.  (I start obsessing in my head.)

We get home and see Logan shortly after.  He immediately makes the same face.  ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’  I ask.  ‘Because you have mascara all over your face.’  He innocently replies.  I had it ALL OVER my face.  It looked like I was crying black tears.  When Zoe splashed me in the face like she always does, it made my mascara run badly.  Never once did I check a mirror.  Every. Single. Person. I ran into saw me look like a train wreck.  What sweet icing on top of my crap-cake day.  Worst. Day. Ever.  But the next morning, when she woke me up a few minutes before alarm went off, and I saw my smiling snaggle-tooth girl, she reminded me that a few of these really bad days were worth it for the payoff of those perfect ones.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Motherhood… NAILING IT.

When I started my blog about my journey in motherhood, I thought I would have plenty of time to keep up with it.  Because moms have an endless amount of time, said NO ONE EVER.  So the fact that this blog post should have actually been written 4 months ago when the incident occurred, will probably be a common trend. 

To set the stage for this particular story, Zoe was about 6 months old.  It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and the weather was amazing.  Logan decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather by doing some much needed yard work while I played with Zoe.  We had a sweet morning of playing before I was going to meet some girls for brunch.  The morning was going flawless.  Zoe woke up happy, played, ate her lunch and even had a morning poop all before I needed to get dressed for the day.  She has been like this for weeks now.  From sleeping through the night, eating great and even having regular ‘movements’, Zoe has become very predictable. 

I decided to take advantage of this new stage with Zoe.  I got dressed and loaded Zoe up in her car seat to head out the door.  I was only going to be gone for a few hours so I thought instead of loading up her huge diaper bag, I would be cool mom and throw a diaper, pacifier and burp cloth in my purse and call it a day.  I’m a pro now right?  6 month veteran… I’ve got this.  I was cocky. 

We get to the restaurant and Zoe is already asleep for her morning nap when we get there.  Even better.  I can enjoy a nice quiet brunch to catch up with the ladies.  We decided to split a pitcher of sangria and order brunch.  I just started to enjoy my first glass and get the gossip session started when Zoe wakes up really fussy.  She is crying and I am beginning to get embarrassed.  (I suffer from extreme embarrassment when Zoe is loud in public places because I HATED listening to it so much when I was pre-baby.  I always assume every person in the room is staring at me and saying in their heads, take that baby outside, now.)  I pick her up to shush her when I feel something on my hand.  So I grab my purse and excuse myself so that I can ‘calm her down’ outside.  The truth is… I knew I was in trouble. 

I pop open the trunk of my car and lay Zoe down and discover that my thought was correct.  We have a blowout situation on our hands.  No problem… I have a diaper and wipes in my purse.  I can fix this.  I take off her pants which are covered on the inside with poop.  I unbutton her onesie which is also covered to remove the diaper.  I open up my packs of wipes and begin damage control.  That’s when my day quickly unraveled.  One.  One single wipe in my pack.  I didn’t refill it before I left and here I am dealing with the Mt. Everest of poops with only one wipe.  Not only that, but I do not have any clothes to change her into. 

Time to get creative.  First I strategically used the one wipe.  Then I went into my glove box and found some old Starbucks napkins.  That wasn’t enough.  So then I used her burp cloth to get as much as I could before putting on a fresh diaper.  She still has poop on her legs and in various other spots, but it is better than nothing.  This is the part of the story where you think I just hop in my car and drive home and text them on the way that I’ll pay them back later for the food I didn’t eat and the sangria I left melting at the table right? 

Nope.  That is what a normal person would do.  But dang it, I wanted adult conversation and to finish my drink.  So what did I do?  I wrapped my baby covered in crap with her blanket to hide the evidence on the bottom half of her body, and head back into the restaurant like everything was normal.  I left the evidence of the explosion in the trunk of my car and I went back inside to finish my Sangria.  MOTHER OF THE YEAR.  Zoe laid in her car seat while I scarfed down my food, sucked down my drink and quickly asked for the check.  My friends kept offering to hold her but I insisted that she should stay in her seat.  I tried to dodge the real reason as much as I could so not to draw attention to myself. 

Even though I hate to waste it, half of that pitcher remained untouched because I didn’t want to stay longer than I needed to.  I quickly said my goodbyes and put Zoe in the car to drive home.  As you can imagine, my car STUNK.  We had to drive home with all the windows rolled down until I could get her to the house and bath her and put on some clean clothes.  End of story, right?  Wrong.  I get home and am completely frazzled by what happened to see Logan taking his post yard work nap on the couch.  I head straight to Zoe’s room to clean her up and change her.  I still can’t stop smelling poop.  Maybe it’s on me and I didn’t know.  I wash my hands completely and change clothes just in case.  Why do I still smell it?  Oh, that’s why… while I was gone and Logan was sleeping peacefully, our dog ate something and now has had diarrhea ALL OVER our brown living room rug.  I mean EVERYWHERE. 

Sweet Zoe at 6 Months
I wake Logan up, show him the dog’s mess and hand him Zoe and told him to deal with it.  Momma needs a minute to decompress.  So I go on the patio, stick my feet in the pool and just start laughing.  Who the hell did I think I was going with only a diaper in my purse?  You aren’t nailing this mom thing at all.  You are at amateur status at best.  You should be thanking God on a daily basis that your baby has survived.  Never get cocky again!

So what is the lesson that I learned in all of this?  I now keep an emergency diaper bag in my car AT ALL TIMES.  It is stocked with extra clothes, diapers, wipes, burp clothes, formula, toys, etc.  You name it – it is in this bag.  That way, if I want to look like I am cool, put together mom with a baby on my hip holding nothing but a little clutch and Zoe has a surprise moment like this, I can quietly excuse myself to the car and will be prepared for any situation that comes up.  I also ALWAYS have plastic bags in my car so that I can wrap up all of the soiled items and easily dispose of it instead of driving in the stench of failure on my drive home.  

Monday, December 1, 2014

Mom Friends – Your Best Allies and Your Worst Frenemies

I truly believe that it takes a village to raise a child.  I would have already had a serious melt-down and would have walked out on my family, if it wasn’t for my strong network of women who knew exactly what I was going through.  (OK – so I wouldn’t leave, but dang would it be hard!)  However, these strong, beautiful, supportive moms that listen to you complain about how sleep deprived you are, can also be your worst critics.  The worst part is that it is never intentional.  We truly want what is best for our sisters, but deep down inside part of us want to be doing a little better.  We want to believe that we have this parenting thing down a little more than everyone else.  We all can fall into at least one of these categories from time to time and in the process, make our best friends feel inadequate.  I’ve come up with 5 that I’ve encountered so far.  Which mom stereotype have you been guilty of?

The One Upper Mom
This mom friend calls you up to see how you and your baby are doing.  She’ll ask you about various milestones that your child is achieving.  But she asks in a way so she can use it as a platform to brag about her child.  ‘Is your baby rolling over yet?  She isn’t?  That’s strange because my little Janey has been doing that since 4 months.  But don’t worry; I’m sure yours will do it soon.’  ‘Is your baby sleeping through the night yet?  She’s still waking up?  My little Janey has been sleeping through the night since the first month, so sorry I can’t help you there.’  Every time you hang up the phone you look at your perfect angel and start wondering why she isn’t at the same level as little Janey who is also a few months younger, yet accelerating in all the developmental mile-stones.  Since my baby isn’t rolling over, does that mean I can say goodbye to her future as an athlete?  If my baby isn’t talking yet, does that mean that she won’t be a genius, and her future as an award-winning medical researcher who discovers the cure for Ebola is over before it started?  

The Martha Mom
This mom’s life looks like it is straight off of Pinterest.  Every meal posted on Instagram is a gourmet masterpiece.  She throws parties for her children that are over the top with the amount of personal touches from the homemade birthday banners to the hand-stitched matching outfit for her child.  Obviously all the baby food for her child is homemade and she always has ‘rainy-day’ crafts prepared to keep her kids entertained.  While she doesn’t do this to be a show off and truly has good intentions with trying to provide the best for her family, it leaves you feeling like crap.  You worry that your kids are disappointed that their parties don’t look like that.  Your husband makes comments like ‘why don’t you cook like that?’  The good effort turns into resentment.  (I must admit, my friends would probably put me in this classification.  So here is my PSA in my defense.  I really do LOVE spoiling my friends as a small thank you for all that they do for me on a daily basis.  I’m not good with sending sweet cards and am terrible at returning phone calls, but when it comes time for your wedding or baby shower, I will be the first to volunteer so that for one day you can feel like the princess you are.  These parties or meals are my thank you card for being the great friend you are.) 

The Hot Mom
This mom had the best pregnancy ever.  She gained a perfect 20 lbs all in her belly.  Her body looked better at 9 months pregnant than yours did when you were in college.  When you see her a month after having the baby, her baby weight is already gone and somehow she managed to lose another 5 lbs without trying.  Apparently a side effect from nursing is an instant 6-pack.  I guess I just didn’t get that side effect.  Not only did she lose all her weight, but she was able to keep her pregnancy boobs.  So now she is a size 0 with double D boobs.  At the same time, you gained 50 lbs. during pregnancy and 9 months later after eating nothing but celery you haven’t lost a pound.  You wear frumpy clothes that are covered in spit up while hot mom is playing with her kids on the beach wearing a skimpy little two piece.  Rather than thinking, ‘good for her, she is a great person’ all you can think is ‘I hate that skinny bitch.’ 

Crunchy Mom
This mom is trying to connect with her inner native warrior princess.  She had her baby naturally in the bathtub at her house.  She is exclusively breastfeeding until her child is 8 and when her child does eat, it will not only be home-made and organic but it will also be vegan.  She uses cloth diapers that she made herself, along with her homemade laundry detergent, wipes and soaps.  She has chosen this alternative lifestyle for her and her baby, but judges you because you didn’t.  She is a stronger woman than you because you went to the hospital and requested the epidural.  She cares about her baby’s nutrition more than you because after 6 months of trying, you are giving your baby formula.  She clearly cares more about the environment because of all the poison I am putting into the earth with my wasteful disposable diapers and my Tide laundry detergent that is polluting our waters.  She sees you in public and rolls her eyes at your life decisions while you are trying to hold yourself together.  My kid’s insides are not going to rot because I gave her a goldfish cracker.  We are all trying to make good decisions here but sometimes, you work with what you’ve got.

The Baby-Obsessed Mom
This mom’s only identity is that of her child.  This is all she talks about.  Every story she tells is about something that her kid did.  She wants to show you pictures constantly, even though that child is sitting right in front of me.  All questions are parenting or baby related and all activities must be baby approved for her to bring her child to.  She has never spent more than an hour away from her child and has convinced herself that she is the only one that can make her baby happy.  Everyone else is holding them incorrectly, even though we have babies of our own that have somehow survived.  They are proud stay at home mothers who turn their nose at those who would dare think of leaving their child with a complete stranger to go to work instead of spending these fleeting moments at home with their baby.  I love my child and spending time with her, but I am not a bad mother because I also love my time away and enjoy my job.  So put the iPhoto montage away, join me for a glass of wine and let’s talk about a social issue or even celebrity gossip if you want to keep it light. 

 Okay, so I called myself out on the ‘Martha Mom’ but I have been guilty of all of these to a small degree at one point in time or another and I’m sure you have to.  Well, maybe not hot mom.  No one has ever looked at me and said wow, I can’t believe you had a baby, your body is amazing.  More accurately people assume I am already pregnant with number 2 – that is the only logical explanation for me to still have an extra 20lbs. around my belly right?  Note to everyone in the world:  Unless I am wearing a shirt that says, ‘Yes, I’m Knocked Up’ NEVER ask me when I am due.  For every month that it took for you to gain weight during pregnancy, you get a year to lose it right?  So if I drop it by the time Zoe is 9, I’ll be on track.  Or I can start a ’10 is the new 0’ campaign to get my husband to jump on.   It worked for age… it can work for weight.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

I’m just going to run to the store real quick….

My Angel
Running errands with a baby SSSSSUUUUUCCCCKKKKSSSS.  I don’t think there is a word that adequately describes the inconvenience level of trying to go out in public to do normal tasks with a baby.  My respect level for all you moms with multiple kids has gone through the roof.  I don’t know how you do it without having a public meltdown in the middle of the laundry detergent aisle of Target. 

Today, Logan and I both had a lot of errands to run and only a short period of time to do it.  So we decided to divide and conquer.  I drew the short straw and got baby duty.  (Not really, I actually wanted to spend the day with Zoe since I just came back from being out of town for work this past week and I am turning around to leave again next week.  I’ll write another blog post about the pros and cons I am experiencing as a traveling working mom and the guilt that comes with it.) 

I had a few short stops that needed to be made.  If I could do this trip solo, I would need a total of 15-20 minutes at each location tops, and could have finished my shopping trip in an hour and half to 2 hours tops.  That is if I decided to peruse the home section of Target and do some mindless wandering.  Instead, this trip required 4.5 hours, an injury and a breakdown.  The crazy thing about all of this was Zoe wasn't even being bad.  She was acting like her normal happy self.  When she finally got fussy at the last stop, I couldn't blame her.  I was over it too.  I wouldn't want to be strapped in a car seat for 4.5 hours, sweating through my clothes.  I’d want to be at home, in the AC, playing with my toys too.

I will spare you from all the mundane normal issues that come from carting around a child in various department stores.  I will say this, just the added necessity of changing diapers out of the trunk of your car, and sitting in dressing rooms to breast feed, or hopping in the back seat to go through the bottle and burping routine that all come with the territory of traveling with your child, adds an additional 45 minutes to any normal trip. 

So we will skip to my last stop.  I needed to go to a party store to get some supplies for a birthday party this weekend.  I already knew exactly what I needed and what aisle it was in, so I thought I could be in and out in less than a half hour, even with the Zoe factor.  I had my list organized by section so I could just hop through.   (Yes I am that person that carries lists everywhere.)  So I parked in a spot where I saw a cart in the parking lot and put Zoe’s car seat in the top.  Like every other Party City cart, this one had a crappy wobbly wheel to add to the fun experience.  I go into the store and start to pick out my items.  As soon as I get through the first aisle, Zoe tells me she is over it.  Come on baby girl, 15 more minutes and I am home free – don’t crack now.  Too late… the rest of my shopping experience would be combined with me keeping one hand on her pacifier to try to keep it in her mouth and shushing her while also trying to hustle through the store. 

I get to the check-out counter where, without me even having to ask, a friendly stranger offered up her advice on to how to calm down my baby.  I appreciate it so much to hear sweet tips on how I can be a better mom from people who don’t know me.  (Sarcasm could not be any thicker right now.)  As I go to put my items onto the counter, one of the boxes, that contains roughly one billion parts, spills all over me and the floor.  Awesome, can I please have a scene to go with my screaming baby?  Thank you.  As one of the parts was coming out of the box it scraped up my leg so now I am also bleeding.  Fabulous.  I pay for my items, tell them they can keep my dignity because I don’t have any use for it, and exit the store. 

Remember the wobbly wheel I told you about?  Well, I go to leave the store and push the cart over the sidewalk edge down to the street to get to my car, and the whole thing decides it wants to topple over.  Obviously all I care about is Zoe staying safe, so I grab onto her car seat and watch as all of the stuff I just purchase flies over the payment.  I am holding up traffic now, while I shovel my random party supplies back into the bag with my kid sitting in her car seat on the side of the road, crying.  I guess one scene for the day wasn't enough.
The Happy Girl

We get in the car, and I turn the AC up on high to try to cool off.  (I’m a sweaty person as it is, so you can imagine the level after anxiety from public humiliation.)  I decide to join Zoe in the crying as I leave the parking lot when I count down the minutes until she goes to bed so I can have a glass of wine.  But then what happens?  I get home, change Zoe’s clothes and diaper, and put her on her activity center where she is INSTANTLY back to her normal happy self.  She is laughing and cooing and having the best time.  My anxiety melts away and I am reminded to why all this ‘extra stress’ and baggage that goes to traveling with a baby is sooooooo worth it.  I will take 100 Party City melt downs in exchange for that smile.  Or, I’ll just make Logan do it. 

Friday, May 2, 2014

So you’re telling me kids change your life?

The 'Life Changer'
I don’t know why it has taken me so long to realize this.  People have been telling me for as long as my memory goes back that kids change your life forever.  I guess I always thought when people say that, they were trying to share some profound secret about how meaningful having a child is and the enrichment they add to your life.  I have no doubt this is true, and there is a reason why so many people have joined the baby club.  But what they were really trying to tell me is my every day, mundane life will NEVER. EVER. Be the same.  What they were really telling me was that going to Target or the grocery store alone would give me the same sense of relaxation that previously came from facials.  What they were really telling me was that now my meals are going to all happen after 9:00 when Zoe goes to sleep because before that we are too busy bathing, feeding and soothing her to sit down for a meal while she is awake.  What they were really telling me was that from now on, anytime a friend ask me if I want to do something with them I have a fearful moment of being a social pariah when I ask ‘is it okay if I bring Zoe?’  And the biggest thing that they were all trying to tell me when they said that my life would be changed forever is that now the idea of a date night with my husband is going to need to be planned out to the same level of detail as our 2 week European vacation.  I asked grandma a month ago if she would babysit for us on the weekend of our anniversary so we could go to a nice dinner.  I am now counting down the days until Saturday, May 24th the way I used to count down the days until Christmas as a child.  (only 22 more days to go!) 

These were pants and are now
capris.  Looks like it's time to
retire them.
I’m not going to lie… I suffer from FOMO to a degree.  Being pregnant and missing my first Gasparilla was hard on me.  (Note to self – ask grandma now if she will babysit on Gasparilla next year.)  But one of the ways having Zoe has change my life forever in a great way, is that she has given me a different type of FOMO.  I don’t want to miss anything from her growing up.  I don’t want to miss out on the first time she rolls over, sits up, crawls, walks, etc.  This week we hit a milestone that is already showing me how quickly she is going to grow up before my eyes.  After less than 3 months, I have to pack away all of her newborn clothes.  She has out grown them.  The tiny little girl that came early is now covered in fat rolls and quickly growing out of her outfits.  I am also dreading my first overnight work trip.  It is going to be here before I know it and instead of snuggling up next to this sweet girl reading bedtime stories, I am going to be alone in a cold hotel room.  Instead of smelling the intoxicating sent of Zoe’s hair after her bath, I will smell that stale bleach stench that lingers in every chain hotel sheets.  I have always had a passion for travel and once again, because of my baby, my life is changed forever including what traveling away from home feels like.

And now for some funny random stories: 
The Calm Before the Storm
1.  You’ve got a little something on your face…

I was hanging out in my kitchen with a girlfriend while we cooked dinner.  Zoe was in her ‘rock and play’ in the kitchen with us when she started to get a little fussy.  So I picked her up and was rocking her a bit in my arms until she calmed down.  I put her back down so I could continue cooking and went to wipe a little sweat from my forehead when I noticed I had something on my hands.  And on my shirt where I was holding Zoe… and on my forehead.  Yes.  Zoe had a leaky diaper and I was wearing her special surprise all over me.  That night, because of a diaper, Zoe and I both needed a clean outfit and a shower.

2.  You know you are a mom when…

One of the perks of my job and working from home is the flexible schedule.  They don’t care when I get my work done as long as I get it done.  So there are some days that I go to the gym in the middle of the day and then go back to work after Zoe is asleep.  I decided to take to take advantage of being able to avoid the crowds and went to the gym at 4:00, thinking I would beat the after work crowd.  What I didn't beat was the after high school crowd.  My gym was packed full of 16 year old athletes flirting with each other more than actually working out.  Here I am, 30 lbs overweight and 15 years older than these kids, watching 16 yr olds with flawless bodies skipping around in their tiny shorts and sports bras.  I mean talk about a confidence killer.  So I go over in the corner to work on the area where abs should go when I see two girls doing squats right next to me.  They were doing it all wrong.  I’m watching them and thinking, they are going to ruin their knees just like I did when I was their age.  So I went over to them and did my public service to tell them the proper way to do a squat so that they not only get a better work out but also so they don’t make the same mistake that I did.  WHAT?!  Who am I?  ‘When I was their age?’  Apparently I am 31 going on 60 and feel it is my responsibility to save teens from making the same mistake as me?  Whoa… 

Friday, March 21, 2014

This is why I can't have nice things.

This week, Zoe has absolutely amazed me.  Not because of how much more alert she is, even though I am really enjoying that.  Not because of the sweet sound she makes as she is falling asleep on my chest, although, it does melt my heart every time I hear it.  Zoe has amazed me this week by the amount of clothing (hers and mine), blankets, pillows and bed that she has tried to ruin.  How is it that this tiny 7 lb 10 oz. child is capable of making this unbelievable amount of bodily fluids?  If I went to the bathroom as often as she did, this baby weight would be gone and everyone would accuse me of an eating disorder.  Over a 4 day period I have done 6 loads of laundry.  FULL loads.  I cannot imagine what my water bill is going to be.  On Monday, she had a blow out so bad that it got all over her (I mean legs, back, feet all covered,) obviously all over her pj's, all over her swaddle and to make it even more interesting, all over her bed.  If that wasn't enough, after i stripped her down to her birthday suit in an effort to clean her up, she pooped directly on me while in my arms and as I laid her on her changing table she peed all over it. Really Zoe?  Covering yourself and bed wasn't enough, you needed to make sure that I needed to change clothes and add your changing pad to my load of laundry?  This is how my week started.

The week continued with plenty of spit up missing the burp cloth and instead making it onto my shoulder, peeing every time I try to change her (thank goodness she isn't a boy, otherwise I'm sure she would have aimed it right for my face), and regardless of how many bibs I try to use, she still ends up always getting spit up all over her clothes.  I used to judge moms who walked around with their kids who had dried up snot under their nose or a wet ring around their collar.  Why don't you clean your kid up?  Well, now I know... they probably did. 5 minutes ago.  And here they are, already a hot mess.

The best came yesterday.  My little diva needed not one, not two, but 6 wardrobe changes throughout the day.  6!  I had her laying on my lap on a pillow while she slept away when suddenly I felt something warm and wet.  She was peeing through her diaper and clothes all over my lap and all over the pillow.  I cleaned her up and myself, then laid her on another pillow on the floor to do a little tummy time while I got the second load of laundry for the day ready.  I come back to find that she has spit up all over the pillow.  It's been almost an hour since her last meal!  She had a good burp after and there was no reason for this.  There goes another pillow into the wash.  In total, for one day, Zoe managed to ruin 3 burp cloths, 6 outfits, 2 pillows, 1 swaddle, mommy's shirt and pants, 4 changing table pads and 8 cloth diapers.  This is why parents don't buy nice things anymore.  My Pottery Barn couch has been thrown up on several times and it won't be the last, and now the daily attire that I live in are stretchy pants and oversized ugly tee shirts.  Sexy Momma!

(Side note - I have been trying out the 'G Diapers' which are supposed to be a hybrid of cloth and disposable diapers.  The inside liner is supposed to be flushable so that you can keep using the outside cloth portion over and over throughout the day and just change the environmentally friendly pads.  They don't work for crap.  They clogged the toilet when I tried to flush it and Zoe manages to ruin the cloth portion as well as the disposable liner every time she has a bowel movement.  Sorry Mother Earth and all you crunchy moms out there, I'm going with the wasteful Pampers from now on.)

Here I was thinking that this month was actually going to be good for us financially.  Sure we need to buy diapers, but think of how much money I am saving because we don't go out in public, I don't want to buy any clothes until I am back down to my pre-pregnancy size, and I rarely drive.  So there has to be some cost savings there right?  Nope - apparently everything I used to spend on a nice meal out is now going towards extra water and electricity bills from always having the dish washer and washing machine running throughout the day.  This is why God made babies so ridiculously cute.  If all babies looked like Benjamin Button we might not put up with this.  But when Zoe gets milk drunk and passes out on my chest smelling like that intoxicating sweet baby smell and making those soft cooing sounds, I could care less that I haven't washed my hair in a week and my favorite concert tee shirt is covered in throw up.  She makes it worth it.  I love that little monster.

Now some photos of the face I am obsessed with.
St. Patty's Day was celebrated with USF Green!

I don't trust that smile...
This was outfit #4 of 6 in one day.