Author Archives: Crystal

Poop and A Cleaver (Or the Lack Thereof)

Oh, internet, I was going to write you a delicious post about contipation. Not mine, Baby L’s. But then I just couldn’t think about it anymore. Because OH. MY. GOD. My head is going to explode.

There has been blood-curdling screaming. There have been prunes and Karo syrup and apple juice. And there has still been no poop. And somehow, I feel this is a reflection on my parenting ability. So, I can’t talk about it until it is over. Otherwise, I might just hurl myself from a tall building as punishment for sucking at helping my child to poop. (That might be the most ridiculous thing I have ever said. Right there.)

Other than the Constipation Marathon of 2012, MB and I have been talking about forgetting about this whole, living with family to try and save money thing, and getting a new place. I’ve said before that I never (EVER) wanted to live with family again (mine or anyone else’s) as I haven’t done so in 12 years and I didn’t really think that I would ever be able to do it with out severely injuring someone. And not because I don’t get along with people.  Well…okay, maybe some of that. But mainly because I like things the way I like things and living with other people, you can’t really have everything JUST SO.  And then you want to injure people. It just happens like that.

Barbara Billingsley in the pilot "It's a ...Roseanne Barr in "I Am Comic"Also, having a kid and being a married couple is hard enough and enough of an adjustment for anyone, but then throwing in three additional family members who all function on different schedules and don’t necessarily ever clean up after themselves or cook food (This is totally hypothetical, of course.) and sort of just…do whatever? That’s a little tough for someone like me who imagined being a little more June Cleaver-esque when I had a child. (Okay, maybe a June Cleaver/Roseanne combo pack. But totally June Cleaver when it counts. But sometimes I am a sarcastic bitch. And that’s okay.)

I have this plan mapped out in my head about what my family will look like when Baby L is older. And granted, Baby L has NO IDEA what the heck her family life is like now, or that she spends most of her time on my hip because someone in this house is always sick and forbidden (by me) to touch her (AT ALL). She doesn’t have any idea that her mommy cooks dinner for five people every night who never sit down together and eat as a family. She has no idea that her cousin throws tantrums about every 30 minutes and is then rewarded with candy when he finally stops freaking out. So, I know this won’t impact her. But it drives me BATSHIT CRAZY, you guys. And it totally ruins my beautiful, picturesque family fantasy.

I must reiterate that I have NO ill will towards any of the people that live in this house and recognize that they are as set in their ways as I am. But when you have to do all of this adjusting at once, you might just lose it a little. Just sayin.

All of this has even gotten to MB. And that’s where we are. Trying to weigh the options. Trying to decide if we could afford, on his income alone, to get an apartment right now or if I will have to go back to work to make it happen. OR if we follow our original plan and stick it out until April. In which case, we will just hope that I don’t really snap and start setting fires or something. Right now, we are just letting it ride. And I am learning a lot about patience. And that, I suppose, will prove valuable when Baby L gets older and starts acting like she will burst into flames if I don’t stop what I’m doing and PAY ATTENTION to her.

Wish us luck, internet.

Open Letter to Baby L at 5(ish) Months

Dear Lilah,

You are five months old already! (Okay, you are actually closer to six months old but things have been very busy around here and your mom is a slacker.)

You are growing like a total weed right now and have started to eat “solid” foods. I don’t know why these are called solid at all because they are really just mashed up things that used to be solid. But whatever. You like bananas! You love being out on the town with me and you love to be outside. In fact, sometimes, taking you outside is the only way to get you to stop fussing like a maniac. Because, dear Lilah, you are at a stage in your life where you are no longer content to lie down. Or be held. When I am holding you, you want to get down. When you are down, you want to sit up. When you are on your tummy, you want to GO. But you can’t really do these things on your own yet. So, you get super angry and frustrated and act like a psychopath. This usually happens when it is nap time.

Nap time is also interesting. When you were a tiny thing, you seemed to do nothing but eat and nap. You still love eating (as evidenced by your cheeks) but napping tends to be a little more difficult than before. You do it, but reluctantly. You tend to want me to lie down with you for a period of time beforehand, so that you can repeatedly slap me in the face or grab ahold of my bangs and pull like they are a life preserver and you are drowning. This behavior makes you very happy. I let you do it, but fear I may become bald soon.

During this past month, you took your first plane trip all the way across the country to Las Vegas, where you witnessed your father and I get married. You were so well behaved on the plane that strangers were commenting on what a wonderful baby you are. I was inclined to agree. You are sort of wonderful. Elvis walked me down the aisle at the wedding and sang songs to you and you were elated. Elvis said you are an angel. Again, I was inclined to agree. You toured the Las Vegas strip in your stroller and silently took in all the sights and voices of all the different people. We didn’t let you gamble though, because you have yet to get a job and earn your keep.  But I am sure that that will happen in time. Like, by the time you’re 3 or something.

You were also baptized, met my father and step-mom (your grandparents), your great-grandmother, and your great-aunt and uncle. You wore a frilly, white dress and you looked like you should have wings and a halo. You sing songs after you eat and when you are lying in your sleeper, waiting for me to pick you up. You got to spend a lot of time with your Aunt Fish Head and are slowly breaking her down and making her decide to have a baby of her own, because, yes, you are that awesome.

Last night, you and I watched the election coverage together. And we were elated to hear that President Barack Obama was re-elected. You did a little squeal of glee. (Actually, you squealed with glee for several hours while your father snored, both of you preventing me from sleep and forcing me to read all the hideousness people were posting on social networks regarding the election results. No bueno.) It was a big day for the United States. For the LBGT community. For women. And I am so glad to have been a part of it. And someday, when you’re older, I will tell you all about this day. But for now, I will just tell you that good things are happening. And I hope that, by the time you are old enough to read this, you will have the equality that we strive for now. But I won’t get all political on you now. You’re just a baby.

I am so glad that you are here and I cherish every day with you and I am so looking forward to all the progress that you will continue to make in life. I love you.

I LOVE YOU. (Just in case you didn’t get it the first time.)

Mom

 

Updates and a Liebster!

I can’t believe how long it has been since I have had the time to sit down and actually write a post! Between all the out of town visitors hese past couple of weeks, Baby L’s baptism and just the general craziness that is my life, I just either haven’t been motivated or just haven’t felt like I could put anything down into a coherent post. And yes, despite my sailor mouth and my indifference about religion in general, I had Baby L baptized. Because her great grandparents would have wanted it that way and nothing would have made them more proud. But I won’t get into all of that stuff, because I don’t want to get all mushy on y’all after such a long time without any posts. That seems unfair.

A couple of things.

1. I hope that you guys are exercising today, if you haven’t already, your right to vote. I haven’t gotten out to the polls yet, but I will be there soon. And if I have to, I will drag this baby with me and I will stand there for as long as it takes. Because this, my bloggy friends, is important. But you know that. Because you are all awesome.

2. I’m not used to saying, “my husband”. It makes me feel like a fake. But then, saying “my daughter” still makes me feel a little weird too.

3. You can imagine my surprise yesterday when I realized that I was given the Liebster Award from Eileen over at Giving Her All She’s Got ! You know, considering that I haven’t posted in, like, a year or something. (Oops!) Thank you so much, lady! So, here’s the scoop:

The Liebster Blog Award rules are:

1) Answer the 11 questions written by your nominator.
2) Nominate 11 7 other bloggers who have less than 200 followers.

3) Write 11 of your own questions for each nominee to answer.

So, here are my questions from Eileen!

  1. What is your favorite post you have written?

This is a hard one for me. I don’t often re-read my posts because…well…I don’t have time. I guess that there are several that I really like, but I think my favorite today would be this one because it reminds me of that time, just before Baby L was born, when I was finally coming to grips with things. And it took a while, believe me. If you follow my blog and have for any period of time, then you are well aware that I was not the happiest about getting knocked up. My, how things have changed.

2. Why did you begin blogging?

I began blogging a little over a year ago after finding out I was pregnant. I was miserable, scared, and generally blah. And I thought that having some sort of honest outlet would help me cope with the changes I was about to go through. I felt I couldn’t be completely honest about my feelings with friends and family because I didn’t think that anyone would understand my fear. Or that I wasn’t all glowing and super excited.

3. Why do you blog now?

First of all, I don’t know if you could call what I do “blogging” at this point, because I rarely get to do any of it. But the real reason this blog is still in existence is because of you guys. Seriously, I never thought when starting this blog, that I would “meet” so many awesome women (and men) who felt things similar to what I was feeling. We all have so many different outlooks on things but so many things that we can learn from each other too. I swear to Jeebus, if I hadn’t started this blog, I’m not sure I would have made it through. And I am so grateful for all of my readers. I appreciate every last one of you. So, I blog because you read. And because I feel a sense of community and overwhelming support here. And I can speak freely. Thanks, guys. You rock my face off.

4. What is your favorite date night activity?

Before I was pregnant, (and then had a kid) MB and I used to just go to dive bars and drink cheap beer. And this, to me, was the most glorious thing ever. But after child, I can only ask for a good meal at a nice restaurant, some good wine, and some cuddling. Because, I am a simple gal and MB is a great cuddler.

5. You have an entire day to yourself, what do you do with it?

Oh. My. God. I can’t even imagine this! What wouldn’t I do? Go to a farmers market without a diaper bag. Drink lattes at a coffee shop without a stroller. Read a book. Get a massage. A pedicure. I could go on…

6. If you could give one piece of advice to other moms, what would it be?

Don’t be too hard on yourself. Motherhood is super hard work, and sometimes you will feel like an idiot. And sometimes you will feel like a superhero. And sometimes you will be so tired that you can’t see straight. But you will get through it. And you will do so knowing that you are doing the most important work in the world.

7. Imagine you went back in time to talk to your 18-year-old self, what would you tell her?

Oh man. I barely remember that girl…I would tell her not to rule anything out. To not be so afraid of the world. Or making the wrong choices. Mistakes are inevitable. But what matters is how you come back from them. I would tell her to be free. (But not too free.) And to appreciate every day with the ones she loves.

8. What Christmas tradition have you developed in your family that you love?

A couple things on Christmas.

a) My favorite person in the universe died on Christmas day.

b) It is also my birthday.

c) So, I haven’t really enjoyed Christmas in about ten years. So, this year is where all of that sadness ends and I am actually looking forward to STARTING traditions with my new little family. And I think that my daughter makes it a little bit easier to let go of the bad stuff and focus on making it a joyful time.

9. Any pets?

I had a wonderful cat named Ernge up until about four months ago. I wasn’t able to keep him through the move. And it still breaks my heart. He was one of my true loves.

10. What is your favorite thing about yourself?

I probably always would have answered this question with “my sense of humor” in the past. And I do like that in myself. But, over the past year, I have realized that, contrary to what I have always believed about myself, I am brave. I have overcome a lot. Not just because of things documented here, but this whole parenting thing has made me realize that I’m pretty effing strong. And sort of a kick-ass, fearless sort of broad. Who knew?

11. What did you study in school?

Ha! What DIDN’T I study in school!? I am a perpetual student. I have worked full-time since I was 18 and have been in and out of college for YEARS. My major is listed as English. That’s about the most I can tell you…

And now (drumroll please…) for the blogs!

1. Mother 27 and Still Terrified. I love this blog. Love. The most recent post is a poem written for her son, Jonah, and it melted my little mommy heart.

2. Bellisimom. A blog I have been following almost since the beginning. Good reads and I SO love all the pictures of her little man! (I should really post more pictures, no?)

3. & Squatch Makes Three. Also one of the first blogs I started following. Also one of the only daddy blogs I follow, but it is truly a great (and hilarious) read. Love!

4. Shotgun Fetus. Seriously. I love this lady! Since we started blogging, we’ve both had babies and gotten married (not necessarily in that order…ahem…). She’s a burlesque mommy, you guys!

5. Kathryn Finding Balance. Oh, what can I say about Kathryn? She’s freaking amazing and she blows my mind all the time. Her blog is not about pregnancy, but guess who just started her own pregnancy journey!

6. Dear #$&!% Baby. This blog is hilarious. And you probably follow it already. As you should.

7. Southern Fried Chicken in Vegas. She said recently that we are the East/West Coast versions of each other. I an inclined to agree. We even had babies, like, two days apart!

Here is where I start cheating. Because, it is banana time. And that’s an important time of day. If you guys feel like participating, feel free to answer the questions above on your blog!

 

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Hitched

Las Vegas, Nevada

Fremont Street, the site of the ZIP!

Well, we did it, internet! We went to Las Vegas and got hitched! And yes, Elvis walked me down the aisle and sang to Baby L. And it was so effing awesome. Obviously, when you’re in Vegas, there is an Elvis on every corner and the odds of getting a good one are, well, kind of slim in my opinion. And I don’t think we got the best Elvis there was (I am pretty sure he used shoe polish to paint on some of his hair), but I didn’t even care about that. Because the wedding was exactly what I had hoped: Lighthearted. Fun. A good story to tell the grandkids .A good amount of cheesiness. It was definitely all of those things. We laughed our faces off and we left the chapel a legit married couple. And, really, what more could I ask for?

Baby L was an angel on the flights to and from Vegas. There were only a couple of points where she started to spaz a little. And who could be mad at that? I kind of felt like screaming my face off a couple of times, myself. Because, seriously, sitting in a tiny seat for 5 hours and not being able to move AT ALL makes my body hurt. (Thanks, Baby L, for destroying my hips and making it impossible for me to sit/stand/walk/lie down for any extended period of time.) And having strangers breathing on me, well, that isn’t really one of my favorite things either…

I wasn’t able to do a lot of things that I wanted to while I was in Vegas. Mainly because, the day that we got there, my throat started hurting like I had attempted to swallow sandpaper (gotta love germy, enclosed spaces!). I spent a lot of time with my mom, sister, and Baby L in the condo while MB and his brother and sister explored the strip. Which didn’t really bother me, because I had already seen it and they hadn’t. But I did a little gambling, I ate a little deliciousness, I walked a whole lot in and around beautiful, ornate hotels, and I visited the top of the Eiffel Tower. Oh, and I fucking ziplined! (I can’t believe I almost forgot that!) I felt pretty accomplished, being that I am not usually one to try flying through the air, attached to a wire, but I figured that I had to do it. After all, MB’s brother and sister bungee jumped off of the Stratosphere. And comparatively, I still suck.

Here are a few highlights:

1. MB’s brother started out as his normal self: A douche canoe. But eventually joined the land of the un-douchey and we ended up not killing each other, and, on the contrary are right back on track. (I’ve known him about ten years longer than I have known MB and we were friends quite a long time before the douchiness started. But I suppose that depends on who you ask. I have some friends who might say I was just blind to it all those years. Until we knew we were going to be family.) This was really a relief. Because the last thing that I wanted was for MB to feel like he couldn’t spend time with his wife and brother at the same time. That is just stupid. I think he was less inclined to be douchey because his ridiculous girlfriend wasn’t there. She tends to bring out the worst in everyone.

2. Baby L saw the Las Vegas strip! She was totally in awe of everything and she was just amazing (until she got tired and we were sitting in a burger place inside the Paris hotel and she started screaming her face off. But, Daddy has the magic touch.) Granted, she won’t remember this. But she will have a picture with Elvis to commemorate. MB and I might be really embarrassing parents.

3. Speaking of Daddy’s magic touch: MB somehow contracted MRSA while we were gone and cannot touch ANYTHING or ANYONE until otherwise advised by a doctor. I am not going to get into how skeeved out the idea of MRSA is to me. And I’m not going to admit to how many loads of laundry I have done in the past 48 hours. But I will tell you, having baby duty 24 hours a day without even so much as someone to HOLD her, on top of being sick myself? NO FUN. I’m hoping that MB’s nastiness clears up soon so that I can get a little help. But also, you know, so he doesn’t die.

4. My mom is obsessed with El Pollo Loco and I am pretty sure that the only reason she goes to Las Vegas is to eat chicken. Fast food chicken.

5. MB bought a guitar to fill with alcohol and carry around the strip. I obviously was not present when this was purchased. But mission accomplished. HAMMERED MB.

6. My sister, MB and I stumbled into a bar at three in the morning one night, where we may have been the only tourists. It was totally creepy. And a weird bunch of people bought us shots. We were fairly certain that, if we didn’t leave immediately, we would wake up in a meth den or something. We escaped. Then we ate Fat Burgers.

7. My hair stayed curly for several days in Las Vegas. I was fairly certain it would be as it is in Florida, and curl beautifully, stay for 13.5 minutes and then, before you can blink, return to stick straight. I told the hairdresser that if my hair stayed, I would move to Las Vegas. And two days later, I was almost in tears because I had to finally wash it.

8. My good friend Ricky was able to make the trip from San Diego and hang out with us during and after the wedding. I had a GREAT time with him and was SO glad that at least ONE of my friends could make the trip!

9. MB has the travel bug now. He’s already trying to plan our next getaway. This time, it will most likely NOT involve that amount of alcohol. Any siblings. Or a fillable guitar.

10. Thanks to all of YOU for the congratulations! I’m so happy to be home and so happy to have officially married my best friend!

That was the longest/shortest vacation of my life. And the only souvenirs I returned with are an empty Eiffel Tower which used to hold frozen drink deliciousness and a defective husband! Okay, maybe not defective. But definitely diseased. Gross.

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Thou Shalt Not Cut (Your Mother)

Very, very soon, MB, Baby L and I will be on vacation in Las Vegas, staying at a condo with my mom. My mom has graciously assumed the role of designated baby watcher while we are there, considering that MB and I will not only be on our first vacation, but also kind of on our honeymoon. I am super grateful that she has offered to do this. And that she will be there, because I for one, could definitely NOT leave and go on vacation WITHOUT Baby L because I would be stricken with guilt the whole time. And I would miss her little cheeks so much, I’m sure I would be on the first flight back home. That said, there are some things that worry me about my mom watching the baby. Not because she isn’t totally capable and competent, but because this baby is MINE. And I, like my mother, am sort of a crazy control freak. (To my credit, however, I don’t think I am quite as bad as my mom. If I were, I wouldn’t be able to hack my current living situation with the grace that I have thus far.) But two crazy control freaks, in one place, with one defenseless little lady…well, this could be bad. But I know my baby better than my mom does. Whether or not she raised two kids already. That was a bazillion years ago, mom, and my baby is an INDIVIDUAL.

20121011-102107.jpgFor instance, when we started rice cereal a few weeks ago, you first told me that I should mix it in with her bottle at night and it would help her sleep. A couple of things:

1. The doctor advised against giving her cereal in the bottle and suggested I spoon feed because there is less chance that she will aspirate cereal. Aspirating cereal does not sound like fun. Especially for a baby, who cannot say, “HELP! I have aspirated cereal!”

2. Cereal does not help this baby sleep. Infact, quite the opposite. MY baby likes to stay awake for 4 hours AFTER nighttime cereal. Did you hear that, Mom?! FOUR HOURS. For the love of all that is holy, PLEASE DO NOT GIVE MY BABY CEREAL AT NIGHT. I will murder you.

I am sure that when I advise my mom of this, she will not take my word for it but decide that she needs to see for herself. Then Baby L will be up at 3am, squirming around and NOT SLEEPING. And then my mom will bitch all of the next day because she didn’t get any sleep.

And then I will cut her.

The end.

Mommy Needs a Patio

I remember days before all this motherhood stuff when I used to get to do things. Like, take naps. And drink wine at lunch. And wake up at noon. And skip laundry because there wasn’t any baby puke all over it. I remember times when I could sit down and watch an episode of “Dexter” without having to pause 15 times to get a bottle or rinse of a pacifier or change a diaper.

I’ve been feeling…in a rut. My days, although fulfilling in ways I never could have imagined, have become sort of monotonous. I sleep until I am awoken, not by an alarm, but by the whimper of a hungry baby. I shower only when MB is free to give me the 20 minutes of peace to do so. I leave the house to run errands but not without a giant diaper bag and massive stroller. I’m stressed in a way that I can’t even explain. Before baby, stress was brought about by too many things on my plate. By having to be too many places at once. By never having enough time. And it is almost the same now, but in some sort of weird way, I miss the time when stress came from having two parties to attend in one night. Or because I wasn’t sure I would be able to make it to happy hour on time because my hair appointment was taking a bit longer than expected.

Can I remember my last hair appointment? Sort of.

We’ve moved so far away from the world I am used to that my social life involves talking to a four-month-old about what an idiot Mitt Romney is. And though she is becoming a hell of a conversationalist, I can’t really decipher her political belief system yet.

There are those moments when I just want a break. Like one where no one wakes me up. Or asks me about feeding schedules. I want to drink beer on a patio somewhere. I want to feel free for a moment.

I’m holding tight to the idea that in just a few days, we will be on vacation. That I might get a few moments, unchained. To drink beer. maybe even on a patio somewhere. But I worry that, even on vacation, I will feel exhausted. Tied down. Alone.

I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy every second of time with Baby L. Or that I don’t cherish every little thing she does. I really do. Because she is the best thing ever. But I’m tired, you guys.

And mommy needs a patio.

Growing Together

Today, for the first time, I woke up at 5:30 am and NOT because the baby was hungry and starting to cry her little face off. Nope, I woke up, out of the blue and I could NOT go back to sleep. And, of course, I wrote a blog post in my head. And it was a really good one. And then I got up and fixed breakfast, ate, had some coffee, got the baby fed…and then the blog post was gone. GONE. (This is not unusual. I do my best, most articulate writing when I am half asleep and unable to reach my computer. Usually right before I fall asleep or when I wake up at an ungodly hour of the morning and am desperately fighting being awake. Go figure.)

But I was thinking about how much my feelings about being a mom have changed. And how they have changed me. And I was remembering the time when I was pregnant and how I thought I might never feel a real bond with my kid and how sad that would be,

While I was pregnant, the whole thing seemed surreal. Like I would never get to that point where pregnant women get all full of joy or whatever. And I guess I eventually got there. Somewhat. I mean, I HATED being pregnant. I hated every little thing about how I felt. But I do remember every once in awhile, feeling Baby L kick and being totally excited, if only for that moment. But then terrified again.

The terror didn’t really go away for a little while after she was born either. I mean, you hear all these women talk about how they instantly felt this bond with this little meatloaf that they just pushed out of their bodies, and you expect to feel that right away. But the reality is, some women need a minute. Or a couple. I was one of those women. And I think there are more of us than will admit it, because I know I felt a bit of shame in this department.

I instantly loved Baby L. Duh. I mean, I carried her around for so long that she was PART of me. But I didn’t feel this instant bond. And I felt awful about it. I felt like I was a bad mother right away. I felt scared to leave her and instantly protective, which I suppose is that motherly instinct thing that I was hearing so much about. But I didn’t feel…IN LOVE at first. I felt bizarre. Like on those old TV shows where they teach kids about having kids by giving them an EGG to care for, for like a week (pretty sure this happened on “Saved by the Bell“.). And they can’t break it or lose it or whatever. (I never understood how an EGG compares to a BABY. I could DEFINITELY take care of an EGG for a week, people. I have twelve of them, perfectly safe, in the fridge right NOW.) But even though I loved this little egg, I wasn’t sure where the hell I was supposed to go from there.

But I was reading, shortly after leaving the hospital, a book called “Secrets from the Baby Whisperer” and the author made the point that your baby is a person. And it might take a little while to get to know him/her. Just like anyone else. Because, lets face it people, you don’t instantly LOVE people when you meet them. (I mean, maybe you HAVE, but how rare is that?!) Then I didn’t feel so bad about having to really work at this whole bonding thing. I had to get to KNOW Baby L. And she had to get to know me.

And that’s okay.

And now, nearly five months have passed, And Baby L is my whole life. She is beautiful and smart and hilarious. And she sings to her toys. And her little smiles melt my heart. And we’re totally BFFs.

* The title of this post was going to be “Bondage” but I was really worried about the kind madness that might attract. I don’t have much to say about that. This is a mommy blog, you guys.

 

Airplane Panic

Diaper Change in the Sky

Diaper Change in the Sky (Photo credit: andycarvin)

In less than a week, MB, Baby L and I will be taking our first vacation as a family. Am I super excited? Hell yes. Am I freaking out a little? Hell YES.

This might come as a shock to you, given how much I loved kids before I had one, but I have never traveled with an infant before. Before I had Baby L, I’d never even driven with one in my car. And the anxiety I had about that alone was astonishing. Now I get to bring my tiny person to the airport and through security and on an airplane. And OH MY GOD, the anxiety. As competent as I feel now as a mom, I just know that I will forget something important. Like, formula. I will be so concerned about remembering my toothbrush that I will forget that this little lady has to eat.

Not to mention the three hour time difference. Baby L is going to be asleep by 7 pm and wide awake and ready to play at 4 in the morning. Because it seems that, even though all of the adults will be running around like crazy people, it would be right to let her keep Florida time so that when we get home, she isn’t all messed up with the sleep thing. Because we all know how important sleep is to mommies.

I feel sort of insane with all the lists I have floating around the house and in my head. Lists of things to do before we leave. Lists of things to pack for Baby L. Lists of regular, every day things that I am most likely to forget. Lists of reasons to be nice to MB’s brother while we’re there, even though I want to punch him in his nether-region. Lists of restaurants in Las Vegas that don’t allow smoking. LIST after LIST after LIST, internet.

I feel like my mom.

For those of you who have traveled with your little ones, any words of wisdom?

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