An Open Letter to Baby L at 11 Months (Holy SHIT!)

Dear Lilah,

Tomorrow, you will be eleven months old. I can’t really wrap my head around how this has happened. I feel as though I just brought you home from the hospital. And you were all tiny and resembling an alien. (I can say that, because I am your mom and really, all newborns look sort of like aliens.) Your dad and I were looking at pictures yesterday of the day that we brought you home and I was so amazed at how much you have grown and turned, from my little meatloaf, into an honest-to-goodness person. Like, with a personality. And likes and dislikes. And a VOICE. Because, holy cow, do you like to use your voice. You are so beautiful and REAL and perfect and I can’t imagine my life without you. Even if you are a pain in the ass when it is time for you to sleep. Or for me to sleep. Or, like, if someone in the neighborhood is trying to sleep. (You have a serious grudge against sleeping. Which I may or may not have mentioned to you before.)

You have eight teeth now (possibly nine, but I will be DAMNED if I try to stick my fingers in your mouth right now as you have discovered, and seem to have an affinity for, BITING) and you like to eat. Like, more than anything EVER. You love puffs, and lil’ crunchies and pears and bananas and grapes, strawberries and paper towels. (You know, because they are totally delicious when covered in all the aforementioned fruits that I have just wiped from your face, hands and feet…) It cracks me up that you are JUST about as finicky as your dad is when it comes to food. (Meaning, simply, you don’t like peas. The end.) You will eat just about anything that gets close enough to your mouth. And you have the cheeks to prove it. Let me tell ya, little lady.

Just the other day, I was telling a friend of mine (who had one of her daughters just six days after you were born) that you have absolutely no desire to figure out your walker (or be placed in any other freestanding contraption, these days) and that you will allow me to place you into it. But that you will then stare at me with those sad little eyes and start to cry, because, “MOM! THIS THING DOESN”T DO ANYTHING!” and then I usually give you a little nudge and you like that until you realize that, in order to keep the momentum, you have to actually MOVE your chubby little legs. And then you get pissed again. SO, needless to say, the walker has not been a favorite of mine. But yesterday, after explaining this to said friend, I thought I might give it another try. You know, because I am a glutton for punishment. So I put you inside the walker. And you didn’t get upset. But you also didn’t move. You shifted your attention to Rachel Ray on TV (I think she was making some sort of buffalo chicken deliciousness, which explains why you were so interested) and seemed not to mind that I was actually DOING something on the laptop. (You hate it when I touch ANY electronic devices that you cannot pound on or throw on the ground.) I called to you a couple of times from across the room. And I even planted by gigantic, pregnant ass on the hardwood floor to possibly coerce you to come to me. And you didn’t. And you didn’t. And you didn’t.

Until you DID.

And then you attacked. And you rolled over my toes while I was trying to stand up and make room for you to roll about. Then you took a giant crap (which seemed to please you immensely), and then you knocked over about 50 XBOX games and broke the tower that they used to reside in. But, I wasn’t mad, my dear. In fact, I was so proud that I started to cry. Of course, at first it was pride that made me cry. And then I realized that, in order to remedy the mess that you had just made, I would not only have to deal with poop, but I would have to get back down onto the floor again. And I don’t know if you know, but I am 33 weeks pregnant today. And mommy doesn’t enjoy the floor. But you got the hang of it, and I was proud. And then it took me 35 minutes to get up.

You have also started to wake up at ungodly hours of the night and insist upon playtime. No one is a fan of this. Except for you. I am having a hard time adjusting to waking up at 3 and then playing until 5 and then you sleeping until 10. As much as I have wished to sleep until ten, this is not exactly what I had in mind. I hope that you stop this soon.


This face made cleaning up that garlic butter disgustingness totally worth it.

Tonight, you noshed on a breadstick. I gave it to you against my better judgment, but it turned out to be pretty hilarious and I am glad that you enjoyed yourself. You know, I WAS glad, until I had to clean you up. And you were covered in buttery garlic mess. That was not so much fun. And I just found some of this mess behind my ear. So, there’s also that.

All in all, you are a lot of fun. And you keep your father and I laughing all the time. And, you know, we love you despite your non-sleeping, mess-making, toe-breaking antics. Because we made you. And because you are, quite possibly, the cutest, most amazing little girl I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Nay. You just ARE. You rock our faces off and we are excited about, next month, celebrating keeping you alive for an entire year. Because that, little one, is a big freaking deal for us. And you, I guess. Because, well…you’re the one who was in danger. After all, you got US as parents. But we are doing a damn fine job making you into all kinds of awesome. At least, I like to THINK we are helping with that. But it could just be all you. Whatever. You are one cool kiddo. And I ain’t afraid to say it.

Next month, when I write your ONE YEAR OLD letter, I will probably be a blubbering mess. And. for that, I will go ahead and apologize now. But hopefully, you will forgive me because you will see that it isn’t just the pregnancy hormones, but the fact that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I appreciate every miniscule thing that you do. Because you are my reason for getting up every morning. (Partially because if I didn’t get up, you would continue to pull my hair or kick me in the kidney.)

I love you, kiddo. I love you more than these letters will ever tell you.

Happy Eleven Months!





So, that was pretty painless…

Yesterday was the “Sprinkle” for Baby O. I have to say, I was a little nervous about having another party for, yet another, baby. Because, you know, I didn’t want to seem greedy or like I have no desire to see people unless they are bringing me diapers or whatever. But, after a lot of thought about it, I was convinced that, since I don’t need a crib (already have it!) or a swing (check!) or any of the big stuff that you register for when you have your first baby, a “sprinkle” would be an acceptable kind of party. I didn’t register. And I honestly didn’t really even expect gifts. I just wanted to get some of my favorite people all in one place to see this gigantic belly-saurus-rex (because this is the last fucking time this is happening to me and that is ALL I have to say about that…) before it is all over. And, you know, this time I was a much better sport and I even encouraged beer drinking (not for the other two preggos who attended, though…duh.) because, I have accepted my fate as a non-drinker. Because I haven’t been able to enjoy cocktails, and I mean REALLY enjoy cocktails, in over a year. Because I am always pregnant. Because my husband has super human sperm that are, evidently, resistant to every kind of birth control known to man. Even when all of them are used simultaneously. But I digress…

Anyway, there was beer. And I coveted it. But not like I did last year at my shower. Not at all like that. There were munchies and there was BEAUTIFUL weather and there were good friends and I wasn’t the only one growing a baby. And I was happy. And now I am staring at a stack of boxes of diapers nearly as tall as I am and I am remembering that feeling of, “HOLY SHITBALLS. I’m about to expel a person from my body” Only this time, it is more like, “HOLY SHITBALLS. WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?!” And it still doesn’t seem real. At least, not most of the time. Until there is a foot in my ribs. Then shit gets REALLY real. My due date is just under two months away. And it is surreal.

On the one hand, I can’t wait to see Baby O’s face and kiss his little toes. And on the other hand, I wish I could just take a month break from being pregnant, enjoy some un-pregnant lady sleep and some adult beverages and then go back to this after I have thoroughly prepared myself for what is about to go down. Because, internet, some serious MOTHERHOOD is about to take place on this here bloggy thang…FOR REALS. The sprinkle just made it seem like the beginning of the end. Which is great, because pregnancy SUCKS a whole lot of ASS but terrifying because if I am not pregnant, that means that there will be another CHILD. One who will only sleep two hours at a time and will spit up on me 74 times per day and make me smell horrible and behave like a mom zombie for the next several months. One who will care less than Baby L does about how exhausted I am or how long it has been since I have had a shower. (Not a baby shower, though, because I have those at least weekly, it seems…)

All in all, though, I am really glad we had the party. Mostly because, even though I am acutely aware that this baby is surely happening, moreso now than before the party, I got to spend some time with some really great people. And, you know, they brought diapers and didn’t at all seem to think I was a greedy bitch for having another party. (Thanks, guys. You really do rock my face off…)

It isn’t that I don’t have time for you, internet. Its just that…well, I don’t have time to have time.

Because I have very little time to sit down and write a post (I even forgot to email my gift for the Festivus party over at The Waiting!), I give you a picture of my little nugget. And the promise that a real post is forthcoming. And it will probably be a doozie. Stay tuned!


An Open Letter to Baby L (3 Months)

Dear Lilah,

This letter is a little late. You are a little over three months old now. You are just getting over your first cold, which has caused me so much anxiety, this letter was the furthest thing from my mind. Besides that, I really didn’t have time to write it because I was constantly calling the nurse or on-call doctor to make sure that you didn’t have whooping cough, you know, or leprosy. (Your mother, as you may well know, is sort of a crazy person…but it is all out of love. And, you know, maybe a tiny bit of chemical imbalance…)

You’ve been rather fussy during this last week or so, due I’m sure, to the amount of snot you are storing in your face. But it is still a really cute face. So, I hardly mind sucking snot out of it with that bulbous thing that sort of scares me. (I sometimes feel like your brain might somehow turn to complete mush and I will accidently suck it right out and into that weird bulb…and that would be bad on the whole “good/bad scale”.) You had been sleeping through the night for several weeks (because your mother is a genius and bought the most amazing baby sleeping contraption known to man…) but since you have been sick, you basically just want to play or cry. Sleeping happens at night, but it is not really something that you do willingly. It is something that, either, you can’t help but do because you have fought naptime all day and you, despite your resistance, just can’t stay awake any longer, or something that you are helped to do by a little thing called “Childrens’ Benadryl”. I will say that I was very reluctant to give this to you, but I was advised by two (count ‘em, TWO) pediatricians that this would not hurt you if given a small dose and it would also help you (and me) to get some sleep. It works and it is glorious. I have given you three doses , total, but sometimes I feel that I should also dose myself. Because after I give it to you, I lie awake and obsess over the fact that I’ve just given you medicine. And then I listen to you breathe. You know, just to make sure.

In other news, you are doing some pretty adorable things:

  1. You are almost rolling over. This confuses me, because you actually rolled over a few times when you were about 4 weeks old. But then you stopped doing it. Almost like you didn’t want to make me think that you were a genius right off the bat, so you had to slow your role so I didn’t expect too much. Whatever. You are starting again. And it is pretty rad.
  2. Yesterday, you held your bottle and ate by yourself for FIVE MINUTES. I don’t know when you are supposed to be able to do that, so I ran around the house looking for someone to witness it. Your grandmother and I are convinced that you are a child prodigy in the making.
  3. You like to take naps in mommy and daddy’s bed. You sleep on your side and you are probably the most beautiful thing that was ever invented.
  4. You giggled at your reflection in the mirror twice the other day. I cried because you are so cute/smart/awesome.
  5. You like to try and eat this Jacksonville Jaguars blanket/stuffed animal thing that you got from a lady at the hospital on the day you were born. It is very soft. You really like soft things on your face.
  6. You like it when I kiss the bottoms of your feet. And, just so you know, I hate feet. But yours are completely edible. And I probably WOULD have eaten them if it weren’t really wrong to do that…and probably illegal.
  7. You are the only kid I have ever seen who gets excited when laid on the changing table. You smile like crazy when it is time for a new diaper. But you don’t cry when you are wet.
  8. You always smile at me when I pick you up from your sleeper in the morning. It is the kind of smile that makes my heart melt all the way through. You are so genuinely excited to see me. Maybe ALMOST as excited as I am to see YOU. (Although, this is doubtful.)
  9. You are liking baths more and more. You have learned to splash. You should be called “Crazy Legs”. I think that your dad and I walk away more soaked than you.
  10. When you are sleeping and your pacifier falls out of your mouth, you sometimes still make the sucking motion with your mouth for several seconds. And it makes me giggle.

This afternoon, you fought your nap for such a long time and then after your bottle, you fell right to sleep in my lap, just like you did when you were brand new. And, of course, I cried a little. Because, that’s what mommies do.

As always, I am totally in love with you. More than I thought I could be with any other person. Except your dad. Because, if I’m being completely honest, you guys are what I live for. (Just a little reminder.)

Until next time…


All of my love,



Summer Sharing Contest

Hey, ladies and gents! I have a favor to ask!

I entered Baby L in a contest over at Madison Grace Baby Accessories on Facebook!!! The picture with the most likes there gets some free adorable baby loot! And Baby L LOVES headbands (there is no way for me to prove this, but MOMMY loves Baby L in headbands…so there!) Could you take a minute and head over!/MaddiesBowShop and like the page and then vote for Lilah (by liking her photo)!? I would bake you all cookies or something…but you know…

Will cyber cookies do?



The Big Chill (Errr…Cold, Rather)

So, I know I promised a post. And I have been writing one in my head. But then, Baby L got a cold. And I immediately looked up all of her symptoms (snot, snot, and then some more snot) on web MD baby and was convinced that she had whooping cough. And ten everyone sat around and watched me have about 37 heart attacks. Because I’m quite entertaining as it turns out. So there were many after-hours nurse calls and there was an appointment with a new doctor. All of which confirmed that I was doing everything possible to relieve my precious little thing…but still there wa the snot. So the new doctor told me to give her 2ml of Benadryl. And I did, even though I thought that Benadryl was a little extreme…so I had 37 more heart attacks. But Baby L slept like a champ and woke up smiling and happy as a cute little clam.

All was going well until I fed her. And ten she started spitting up. And not your usual tiny little dribble, either. It was a river of mucusy, thick disgustingness. And it went on like this all day. And by outfit number four, I started to think, Oh my GOD my baby is going to starve to death!” Because, you know, it wasn’t stressful enough to go to bed every night thinking that she was going to choke in her sleep. Or that the humidifier was going to spontaneously combust and the whole house would catch fire while we slept. No. Now my baby was starving. And we were both covered in mucus. (I know there is probably a movie image that I could insert here for comparison, but I am too drained to think of it. Feel free to insert your own.)

Of course there was another call to the nurse. And of course she told me what I already know and assured me that Baby L was just getting rid of all the nasty stuff from the congestion. But I still wanted to bang my head against the wall until I passed out. (I resorted to Pinot Grigio.) And MB, if he wasn’t sure before, is now painfully aware of the extent of my untreated anxiety. But…after a couple of small bottles of clear pedialyte and a good night sleep, Baby L is alive and steadily trying to figure out how to grab her feet. There has been very little mucus. There has been very little snot. And no one has had to change their clothes. And it is almost 9am!



Little Girls!!!

So, I don’t think I have mentioned this before, but for all of you mommies (and daddies) who have little girls, you should go here and check out Madison Grace Baby Accessories! There is so much adorable stuff and Jenn is holding a contest on Facebook right now!!! Go check it out!

Also, don’t forget to like Broken Condoms Blog on Facebook too!!! Duh!


A real post is forthcoming. I swear to Cheesus.

I Have Returned…

I’m not even going to discuss the fact that it took AT&T almost TWO WEEKS to make my internet work at the new place. Nope. Not gonna talk about that. Because, as tired and frustrated as I currently am, I would likely go batshit crazy if I had to think about it anymore. The only thing that matters is, the internet is on now. And I can finally update my BLOG!!! And, if you’ll forgive me, I’m not really even sure where to start…so…a LIST!

1. Two weeks ago, MB, Baby L and I moved across town into a house with the family. This has been mostly a positive experience. I love his family, we have a huge master bedroom and the much needed privacy that I was worried about not having, and I have help with Baby L pretty much whenever I need it. These are all positive things. But then there is the issue of living with another child. One who never, EVER sits down or stops jumping. This is definitely taking some getting used to. But I have learned to lock doors behind me to prevent any sort of unwanted child interaction and that seems to have worked. Most of the time.

2. Our giant master bedroom is completely insanely messy because, after we got all of our clothes hung up in the closet and boxes stacked on top, all of the closet shelves fell down. This has since been fixed. And then has fallen again, leaving a crazy pile of who knows what all over the floor and nowhere to put it until more shelving is installed. Needless to say, there are, because of lack of a closet, still boxes stacked in the room. And they are driving me INSANE. Because, internet, if I have to live in someone else’s house, I just need there to be a whole lot of order.

3. Baby L will be THREE WHOLE MONTHS OLD on Sunday and I can’t freaking believe it. She’s cooing and smiling and clutching things and being ridiculously cute and perfect and I still have days where I can’t believe I actually had a BABY. But, I have to say, it is so amazing to get to see all the new things she does and new facial expressions she makes. And I can’t help but love dressing her up in adorable little outfits. Dolls never appealed to me as a kid, but man, I love dressing this kid!


4. Is it weird that at almost three months, I can feel little tooth nubs in her mouth? Isn’t it quite early for that, y’all?

5. Wedding plans are in the works! And that’s all I am really going to say now, because I want to get it all planned out, but I will tell you this; will probably take place two months from today and will involve some bright lights and an Elvis or two. (Let the diet begin!!!)

That’s really all the time I have for now, internet, but I will be catching up on all of your blogs TODAY! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a diaper to attend to. Not mine. Just clarifying.