Tag Archives: My Beloved

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?

An Open Letter to Baby L at 6 Months

Dear Lilah,

Oh my goodness, how time is flying by. You are six months old today! (I know! It totally IS exciting that your slack-ass mom finally is ON TIME.) I was lying in bed staring at you as you slept last night, thinking about how I still can’t believe that I actually grew you inside of my body. And I wondered if I will look at you when you are 40 and still be so amazed at the whole idea. I can’t imagine ever not being mystified by this fact. But I am sure at 40, when you are a lot bigger (I hope) it will be even harder to imagine. Plus, you might even have kids of your own. And then I will be amazed at how YOU grew THEM in your body. Oh, gosh. All this thinking was really exhausting. But it came down to one thing. I made you. And that blows my mind. Every day.

You have been teething for what seems like an eternity and you have STILL not popped out a tooth. This is distressing because you are frustrated and cranky. And you are dripping with spit nearly every second of every day. And you want to chew on my fingers a lot. Which is fine, except that sometimes, I need to use them for other things. (Like blogging. Duh.) It seems like a tooth might occur within the next couple of days, though. You have one attempting to escape your bottom gums as we speak. It makes you furious. And it makes me want to run far, far away. (Of course I couldn’t do that because, even when you are crying and chewing at me, you are seriously too cute for me to put into words.) We are keeping our fingers crossed for some serious relief in the near future. (Please let it come today!)

Yesterday, your father put your crib together. And no, we have not been making you sleep on the floor since you were born. But the only place that you were content was in your sleeper (amazing sleeping contraption that saved Mommy’s life) until now and I really didn’t want to quit it. (I will never quit you, amazing sleeping contraption.) Unfortunately, your feet are starting to pop out of it. And, while this is super cute and hilarious, and you still seem comfortable, I think this means it has to be retired. Your crib is pretty pimptastic, though. And you slept like a baby rock in it last night.

Your father and I sing a lot of songs to you. Your dad’s approach is mainly to make up songs about whatever he happens to be doing or whomever happens to be in the room at the time. This is usually pretty comical. Sometimes he dances around and I like that because you are about the only person who isn’t embarrassed of your father’s dancing. I think it makes him feel better about his lack of “Skillz”. I, on the other hand, like to sing you a variety of classics. Because that is how I roll. I started out always singing you Beatles songs. Because you seemed to really enjoy “Penny Lane” and “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds“. Then, one day, I caught myself singing Primus  to you and I thought that might be a bit inappropriate. That, and I hate Primus and I have no idea why or how that even happened. But at least it only happened that one time. I sang you to sleep to “La Vie Boheme” from the “RENT” soundtrack the other day. Which may also have been inappropriate but I have decided that until you know what I am talking about, I will stick with what works. Mostly, and this has been a constant since you were born, I sing Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam to you. (Your father does too. Don’t let him tell you any differently, either.) I sing the chorus of THIS SONG to you CONSTANTLY. And you love it. Because the eighties, despite what you may have heard, were a fun time for music. I am sure that, by the time that you read this letter, I will have introduced you to Cyndi Lauper and you will know just how unusual she is. (And you won’t get that, because you don’t know that my favorite Cyndi Lauper album is obviously, “She’s so Unusual“.) Anyway, you like for your father and I to make jackasses of ourselves for your benefit.

I am not sure that I mentioned before that I refer to you as “Lilahkin Skywalker”, but I want you to know that this is catching on. And I hope that it is still commonplace when you are a teenager. (And it might be cool. Still. Again? Whatever. I guess I will find out when the time comes.)

As always, you rock my face off and I am so excited to get to be with you every day. When I think about how much I love you, I smile so much, I injure my face. And I hope you remember that if/when I don’t get you the car that you want.

Love always,

Mom

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.

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.

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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