Category Archives: Marriage

Broken Condoms…Reloaded (Alternately Titled “Holy Shitballs” Which Seems to be the Common Response)

Seriously, I know the title sounds a little gross. And I also know that I might get some serious weirdos starting to hang around…but I will have to deal with it. Because I am too tired to think of a clever title that fits this post. Because, internet, I’m knocked up again.

And yes. You read that right. I, Broken Condoms lady, reluctant mommy blogger, is knocked up AGAIN. And before you all start dropping like flies with the sheer shock of it all, let me go ahead and clear everything up for you. Please feel free to let me know if I leave anything out…

1. Yes. I was taking birth control pills. And yes, we were also using condoms on the rare occasion that I actually let my husband touch me. Because pregnancy was enough to scare me into wearing a titanium suit around him if I had to. None of this worked, evidently. Hence this post. (Grrr…)

2. How do I feel about this whole mess, you ask? Well, internet, I feel a lot of things. I’ve been keeping this under wraps for awhile so a lot of that emotional shit, I have since come to terms with, but let me try and run you through what I have experienced thus far. First there was denial. I think that when your first child is 5.5 months old and you find out that you are, indeed, expecting again, the first thing that happens in your brain (especially if you have been taking any and every means of preventing this from happening) is that you decide that it can’t be true. It has to be some cruel joke that the Universe is playing on you. Wait, is it April Fools’ Day? You got me, Universe, you really, really got me. But then you start to vomit and you think, “Hey, I must have a stomach bug.” Seriously. I convinced myself for 4 days that the positive home pregnancy test was the Universe playing a joke and that the morning sickness was actually just a stomach bug. After I puked a few more times, though, I just started to have a little breakdown. I kept thinking about all the things I was about to have to do (AGAIN) that drove me so crazy the first time. You know, like the not sleeping (which I am, obviously, currently not doing anyway) and the back pain and the intense need for double cheeseburgers from McDonalds. And then I cried a lot. Daily. For a LONG TIME. I considered options. And I discussed everything with MB (who, by the way, was in support of whatever I decided even though he felt that we, as a couple, are strong enough to do this shit all over again. Curses.) I stared at my daughter for hours and contemplated the birth of our second child and what it would mean for us and our family. I reasoned with myself about eventually wanting to have another child in the next couple of years anyway and how having this baby would make me…well…DONE with childbearing. And that thought gave me solace. But then I cried some more. Because, holy crap, internet, the kids will only be a year apart! And how will I chase a child who will inevitably be starting to walk and carry a newborn around and not sleep all while MB is at work all day?! How will I manage?! But then I stared at my daughter some more. And I thought about how hopeless I felt when I found out I was pregnant with her. And how doubtful of my abilities I was before she was born. And I felt a little bit better. Because dammit, I am a fantastic mom. Am I necessarily ready to be the “mother of two”? No. But was I ready to be a “mother of one”? Hells no.

The acceptance part started after I had to go to the Health Center and get a proof of pregnancy again so I could start the medicaid process (because, though, MB and I are now married, my insurance did not start until January 1st) AGAIN. (Which, if you remember, was pretty much the worst thing EVER for me.) A week later, the crying had stopped, for the most part, and shockingly, the Health Department had my Medicaid set up before I showed up for my appointment. (I didn’t have to make a SINGLE PHONE CALL.) I saw that as a good omen. And then I was all set to hear the heartbeat of the baby (as it was estimated that I was about 14 weeks along at this point) and the PA couldn’t find it on the Doppler. And this might sound crazy. Or horrible. Or whatever…but I was actually relieved. I felt like this might be my “out”. She set me up with an Ultrasound (which was more than three weeks away) and sent me on my way. To panic some more. Needless to say, I started the processes all over again, thinking that it might just be a fluke. Hello, denial.

My ultrasound was yesterday afternoon. I told my sister-in-law in the morning what the situation was and she offered to come with me to the appointment in case MB couldn’t get home from work in time. MB made it home at the speed of light and the three of us trekked downtown and, just like that, I’m gonna have a little boy. Due June 6th, 2013.

3. So, yeah, I know I didn’t answer “how do you feel NOW?” in that monster paragraph up there. The truth is. I feel peaceful. Obviously, fat. And sleepy. And a little scared. But also a little relieved that this whole thing is already almost half-way over and no one could tell I was pregnant (SCORE!). I haven’t gained any weight. I haven’t been nearly as sick as last time. Things have been fairly uneventful. So, do I feel good about the whole thing? Ehhh…I don’t know if GOOD is the right adjective. But I feel okay. I am alive, I am healthy. My baby is healthy. And I still have a wonderful partner and a beautiful daughter to remind me that this is not the end of the world. (Because, in some intense moments, I feel like I could lose it.)

4. I haven’t told EVERYONE in the world yet. By that, I just mean that I haven’t announced the news on Facebook. And I probably won’t do a giant, “We’re pregnant!!!” post. Because the people who matter have either already been told or will be soon enough. I don’t need to tell 200 more of my closest friends. Also, I am still sorting out the fact that I feel sort of ashamed that I let this happen so soon after having Baby L. Yes, I know I did all I could to prevent it, internet. But it feels so…irresponsible. Seriously. I mean, come ON, internet. Who DOES this?

(As I type this, THIS is what is happening on my TV. How can I not be optimistic?!)

http://youtu.be/DkLRXMBFtYo

Anyway, so that’s what’s going on over here. And maybe why I have been sort of distant lately. Please don’t break up with me, internet. I can’t do this alone!

Phases

Parenting is tricky. And not just because you have to learn it all from scratch because every book you can read on the topic will tell you something completely different. But because being a baby is probably pretty hard. But they can’t tell you that. Because they are just babies, you guys. They can’t talk.

The minute you get used to that thing he/she is doing that is so annoying that you think you cannot take it for another moment, it stops. But then this other really annoying thing happens.

Take for instance teething. Teething is uber annoying because it causes the baby a lot of discomfort. And it can look like different things are happening, when really, your baby is just preparing for the ability to bite your fingers off. They pull at their ears. Which makes you think that they might have an ear infection. So you bring them to the doctor and their ears are fine. They could run a low fever. Which makes you think that they have a cold. They could stop sleeping. Because…you know…what is the most annoying symptom of ANYTHING? You guessed it. Not sleeping. And when the baby isn’t sleeping, you aren’t sleeping. And when you aren’t sleeping, you walk around like a mom zombie for days or weeks on end wondering if you’ve just left the toothpaste in the refrigerator. (I may or may not have done that. I can neither confirm nor deny.)

But teething isn’t the only reason that babies don’t sleep. They sometimes don’t sleep if they are too hot. Or too cold. Or in an unfamiliar place. Or there is too much noise. Or not enough noise. Or they are too far from you. Or too close to you. Or they napped too much during the day. Or they are overtired because they didn’t nap enough. Or because it is Tuesday. Or really any other day of the week.

This is currently how Baby L rolls.

I feel exhausted. And achy from trying to sleep with my really tall husband and really tiny baby in a Queen-sized bed. I feel cranky and overwhelmed and then ashamed of myself for feeling cranky and overwhelmed. And then I just feel more exhausted from feeling ashamed of myself. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

But it did get me thinking about these “phases” that babies go through. And how when she was first born and Baby L only slept about an hour and a half at a time and only on my chest or in a swing and I lived on the couch for 6 weeks. I remember thinking that I might never sleep again. And I might never know the joy of a bed. Or cuddling with MB. But then it ended. And we were on to the next thing.

And then it was reflux. And Baby L was miserable and crying and colicky and driving me absolutely mad trying to find ways to help her. And I remember having tried everything and one day, in the middle of one of the non-sleeping, crying hysterically days she was having, I sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor and sobbed. Because HOLY GOD, when will it all end?! And then it did. And now it seems like it was so long ago, I can barely remember it.

I have to be strong and tell myself every day that, “Yes. You will eventually sleep again. And no, Baby L will not sleep in between you and your husband until she is 37 years old.” And sometimes I have to tell myself these things at 4am when I wake up with a cramp in my side because I have been sleeping in the most awkward position for the last 3 hours and I cannot move my left leg. And sometimes I have to tell myself when MB is at work and I am trying to get Baby L to nap in her crib and all she wants to do is scream or play. But we all do it. We have to. It is survival.

And, this too, shall pass…

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Who Needs Vodka? I Made a Person!

Today, I was looking through a couple of posts I wrote exactly a year ago. Not really for any particular reason, just because someone had recently read them and sometimes, I just like to go back and remember what things were like when my life changed. In one post, I wrote about how frightened I was about becoming “one of those women” who becomes baby-obsessed and who ceases to be an individual once their kid is born, because they become a mommy machine. And I was thinking about how awful this was to me back then. And how my biggest fear was losing myself once I gained a child. The funny thing about it is, there is NO WAY not to be obsessed with your own kid. There is also NO WAY not to be a mommy machine! Especially as a stay-at-home-mom. Because you eat, sleep and breathe mommy-hood. And there really isn’t anything you can do about it. And, to my surprise, I don’t really hate it.

Since having Baby L, I have become “one of those women”. And I am not ashamed to admit that my kid is my whole life. And I am not ashamed of the fact that there is NOTHING in the entire universe I would rather do than spend time with her and MB. I feel a little weird saying that. Because, evidently, a year ago I would have slapped you if you had suggested that I wouldn’t want to go to Happy Hour.

And don’t get me wrong, internet, I desperately want to go to Happy Hour. And don’t think that I haven’t made plans to do so…but at the end of the day, I am exhausted. Or I am snuggling with the little nugget. Or I am on the couch with MB, all cozy in a big blanket, watching “The Walking Dead“. (Because nothing says romance like zombies.) And I feel bad for not being all social butterfly now that Baby L is 6 months old. And it isn’t that I don’t love and miss seeing my friends and drinking too much vodka. I do. But I also just feel so much peace when I’m with my little family. I feel whole and content and so much LOVE, people! It is difficult for me to leave that for vodka. (And if you know me, you may think that I must currently be drinking to have said something so ludacris…but I promise, I’m sober. For the time being at least…)

And I may have become obsessed with my kid. And I may be a diaper-changing machine. But I didn’t lose myself. I evolved. And I am pretty proud of this lady. And most days, I don’t stress about missing Happy Hour. Or singing karaoke. Or vodka. Because those things will be there when I’m ready for them again. Right now, I just want to spend every minute I can appreciating this family.

I really just can’t bear to miss a thing.

 

You Get What You Need…

You might remember, internet, that a year ago on the day after Thanksgiving, I announced my pregnancy to the masses on Facebook and was promptly fired from my job two days later, without any warning or reason and after just having received a merit raise. If you weren’t around then, you can read about it here. I’ve been thinking a lot about that time this week because I remember how scared I was and how lost I felt having worked for this company for 3.5 years and having done so much for those assholes, just to be treated like I was disposable. And right after they found out I was pregnant, no less. There is still NO DOUBT in my mind that this was a case of pregnancy discrimination. And I’m honestly not bitter about it because I know that Karma is a bitch. But mostly, I have more to be thankful for than I did when I was working in that horrible place, busting my ass for a bunch of fucktards. (Pardon the language. But if you knew all of these people, you would totally agree…there are really very few words that fit them…and the other ones are worse than fucktard.)

I am so grateful this year. For the first time in a long time, I feel genuinely lucky. Yes, things have been a whirlwind of insanity for the past year. And yes, sometimes I want to stick my head in the oven. But that is pretty natural for people, I think. Sometimes shit just sucks. But it doesn’t last forever. And overall, I feel like I have more to be grateful for than I ever have before.

First, I am so grateful to be a stay at home mom. It sucks that I lost a job that I was really good at (albeit unappreciated) and it really isn’t cool that I was left high and dry without insurance and a baby on the way. But that worked out. And, in return, I got to (finally) get rid of two people who have been sucking the life out of me for over ten years. And I got rid of a place that was doing the same thing. And now, a year later, I get to spend my days playing with, teaching, laughing with and loving my dearest creation. Baby L. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Second, I got to marry my best friend. I can’t imagine anything better than that. I am eternally grateful to him for being ever-the-optimist and showing me that, despite my catastrophe fantasies, things do work out. And sometimes, they work out better than if you had stuck with your original plan. He’s lightened me so much (even though it may not always seem like it) and made me a happier, more optimistic person. Despite the crazy.

Third, I am so, so, so grateful for my family. I have had so many trials this year. SO many things that have not gone the way that I wanted them to go, but every single time, there was someone there to help me through it. Monetarily, emotionally, whatever. And I never even knew they cared that much. This has been a giant eye-opener to me. And I am humbled.

Last…but DEFINITELY not least, I am so grateful for my daughter. The love of my life. My everything. Without her, I think some of the trials of this past year would have gotten the best of me. But when I look at her and know that I am not living for myself anymore, that I am doing the most important job there is by being her mother, everything is not only all right, but it is totally worth it. I am grateful for being given this gift, even if she is a gift I didn’t know I wanted. Because “you get what you need”. And I am so grateful for this love that I never understood before she showed up.

So, thank you, universe. You have changed me. And you have made me better. And life is good.

Happy Thanksgiving, Universe.

Balancing Act

MB and I didn’t really make a big to-do about the fact that we were getting married. In fact, the only people who knew it was happening were family members, really close friends…and well…you guys. It was much like when I found out I was pregnant with Baby L. I didn’t really feel the need to advertise that I was doing this stuff…because, lets be for real, I have a blog and if you read it, then you know what is happening. If you don’t, then either I don’t want you to and haven’t given you the blog address or any inclination that it even exists. Or you just don’t care. Which, is totally your prerogative. And I am totally okay with it. But the main reason for not broadcasting to the whole world that we were getting married was really just because we have been living together for a long time, we have a kid already, and we didn’t really think much would change. And it hasn’t.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, our relationship has definitely changed. But not because of marriage. Because we have a baby. And when you have a baby, you can forget about anything else ever being as important as that. Because it really never is. And that’s okay too. But it is stressful.

MB and I were having a lot of inane arguments about nothing for a while after we moved in with his family, which I suspect weren’t really about nothing at all. I suspect they were probably about us being out of our element and trying to adjust to being new parents and living with other people and just trying to be normal. Because this shit is hard, you guys. I am definitely the kind of person who will let the little things build until the cap is left off of the toothpaste and it becomes just too much to bear and then I go batshit insane and can no longer contain myself. And then I start a fight about toothpaste. Because I, my friends, am a genius.

MB doesn’t let anything get to him. At least, he usually doesn’t. But there was this period where we just…were at each other. That, for me, coupled with having a baby and the stress of living with a screaming 5-year-old who doesn’t belong to me (so I can’t tie him up outside), was really getting to me. I think I started to feel that his lack of excitement about our marriage was because he didn’t want to do it at all. And then my head spun with thoughts that he was planning to leave me. Or that I was too fat now, after having the baby, and he was no longer attracted to me. Or OH MY GOD, what if there was someone else? Now, let me just point out a couple of things for those of you who may not have been regulars here, or who haven’t met me or MB.

1) I am a crazy person. I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder and it is untreated. And, in my head, everything has the potential to be catastrophic. In fact, in my head, most things WILL become catastrophic. But you know, the solution to that is to panic so much about everything that you almost don’t even notice the time passing and things turning out fine. My mind is a totally fun place to live.

2) MB is the most amazing, caring, loving, beautiful, kind…(I could go on)…person I have ever known. He is not superficial or disloyal or cruel and there is absolutely no way that he would do anything to give me reason to panic. (Although, you might now know that I don’t really NEED a reason to panic. So, there ya go.)

What it comes down to is this. Our relationship is changing. In large part due to the fact that we are trying to learn how to be a couple WITH A CHILD. This didn’t seem like it would be a difficult thing to do.I assumed that once Baby L was here, MB and I would be the same. Only busier. And probably sleepier. And we definitely are.  But the day to day routine has swallowed me. And because it swallowed me, I am exhausted, inattentive, and sometimes bitter (about my lack of interaction with the outside world). And this isn’t his fault. So, I work on trying not to take this frustration out on him. Because, after all, he is working every day to provide for our family. And he works damn hard.

I don’t want you to think, internet, that we are miserable. Because for the most part, our issues are resolving. But we are a work in progress. But let me ask you this:

How do YOU balance marriage and parenthood?

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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