Tuesday, December 7, 2010

An interesting family dynamic

Our oldest, C, was just over a year old when I got pregnant with M. I immediately began to worry about how C would react. He was still a baby and needed almost constant attention. How would he handle a mother distracted by a squeaky, scrawny newborn?

M's birth didn't do much to relax the situation. Born nearly two months early, M had to stay at the hospital in the NICU for a few weeks. Due to the fact that I had a C-section, I wasn't able to drive. Those weeks, coupled with the fact that I had not been able to pick him up for a month already, made C very upset with me. While I shuttled back and forth to the hospital, C was shuttled back and forth between our house and my parents' house. On one occasion, I returned from the hospital and went to give C a hug and kiss both of which he refused and he wanted nothing to do with me. Throw in the ridiculous tsunami that is postpartum  hormones and I became a wreck. One baby in the hospital and one baby that hated me.

I really needn't have worried. Once we brought M home, C couldn't keep his hands off. He wanted to feed him. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him. They have been close every step of the way (except when they both want the same toy, but that is for another post).

Flash forward another year. I got pregnant again. This time, there would be even less of an age difference. M was only about ten months old and I had already been warned that another premature birth was in my future. The worrying started again, but I was hopeful that M would like his new brother and everything would be sunshine and daisies. What I didn't take into account is that M is very, very different from C. To expect that same reaction was just wishful thinking.

We were ready for an early arrival this time, so I was able to explain to the kids what would happen, although at such a young age I doubt they grasped the concept. This time, we had planned for my mother-in-law to stay with us, which at least meant that the kids could be at home and not so displaced.

F arrived early. Few weeks in the NICU (déjà vu anyone?). We brought F home. C was delighted. M wanted nothing to do with that little bundle. He didn't get mad or even particularly jealous, but he didn't take note of him either. It was, and I am not exaggerating in the slightest, almost three months later before M acknowledged F's existence.

I wouldn't have been surprised by jealousy or aggression, but completely ignoring that F was in the house was not something I had considered. So now F is just over ten months old and M still doesn't like him most of the time. When he has decided to acknowledge him, he usually calls him "it." The rest of the time, M goes out of his way to avoid F. This is getting more difficult now that F is crawling. I have, on more than one occasion, found M perched on the stairs where F cannot get him. M cries when F pursues him.

The best part of this relationship? F loves M more than anyone else. He thinks that M is hysterical and it is a game that they are playing. My husband and I usually just sit back and enjoy the show. We particularly enjoy it when F pins M in a corner. F happy to play with his beloved older brother and M screeching to "get it off!!!!"

Nick and I often speculate when this phase will pass and M will accept F as a part of the family and not an invader. While I do find it entertaining, I do hope it is soon. The thought of F chasing M around the house when they are teenagers frightens me. I mean, I know that the teen years will be interesting, but I would hope that M no longer fears contact with F. They should have other, more ridiculous things to fight over by then.

Friday, December 3, 2010

When in doubt, just cut off all your hair

I have never been one of those women who is afraid to experiment with their hair. I have worn my hair long, short, brown, red and yes, even blonde. My hair has always been something that I accessorized with, taking an "it will always grow back if I hate it" mentality.

During my pregnancy with F, my hair grew at lightening speed. It was crazy. Even my obstetrician - a guy - often commented on how long my hair was getting. The quick pace of growth didn't seem to slow after I had F either.

It had been a long time since I had worn my hair long and I began to remember the perks of lengthy tresses. When I didn't have time to shower, I could sweep it all back into a ponytail. It got long enough to create elaborate styles when I had the time and a large messy bun when I didn't. I was really enjoying the long hair. It made me feel more feminine in a house packed to the gills with testosterone.

Then it started to fall out. A lot. One morning in the shower, I pulled out a handful of my hair. It was shocking. It was really gross. It was going to clog my drains. This continued for a few weeks and the stress of losing my hair created more stress, thus inciting a vicious cycle of stress and hair loss. Tumbleweeds of hair danced down my hallways and it looked like we had adopted a long-haired molting animal of some kind.

I finally lost my cool. Since I had worn my hair short before, I knew that chopping it all off would be no big deal. But my previous short hairstyles had all been high maintenance and I do not have time for blow drying and styling and all that other crap. No. This time, I needed to go shorter. Super short. Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby short.

I'll admit it. I was scared. I have a few renegade cowlicks in my hair. What if they rebelled and I looked like Alfafa or Dennis the Menace? What if I just looked like a guy? What would I do without the safety net of a ponytail? Then again, what if my children started coughing up hair balls? How much would it cost me to have every drain in my house snaked by a plumber to evacuate the hair blockage created by my fleeting mane? I went online. I found a picture of a haircut that I liked. I went to see my hairstylist, Roland. I gave him the picture.

I told Roland my problem and what I was thinking about doing. Roland has been cutting my hair for five years, so he has a pretty good understanding of my impulsive hair tendencies. But this time, I made it clear that I only wanted him to do it if he thought I could pull it off. He thought I could and I gave him the green light to start cutting.

As long clumps of hair fell victim to the scissors, I began to feel lighter. Sure, my hair would still fall out because that is one of the things that can happen when you have a baby. But at least it wouldn't be quite so shocking. A handful of short hair isn't as jarring as a handful of long hair. When he finished, I was very happy with the cut and glad I made the decision to go short.

When I walked in the front door, C ran up to me, looked at me quizzically and asked, "Mummy, are you you?"

"Yes, I am me. I just had my hair cut." He seemed to accept that as a plausible reason for my new look.

It has taken a some time to adjust to seeing my reflection. After two months of short hair, I am just now expecting to see short hair in the middle. I also got back about twenty minutes of my life a day because washing this close crop takes no time and I don't have to dry or even brush it.

I am sure that I will grow it out again at some point in my life, but I am enjoying my new 'do and the hair-free floors and drains that come along with it.

Mamas, do you have any good child-inducing haircut stories? I want to hear them!

Friday, November 12, 2010

Mamas: United We Stand, Divided We're F%#&ed

Being a mother is really, really hard.

Being a mother with no mother friends to talk to is even harder and this applies long before the baby is ever born.

Pregnancy is filled with amazing and wonderful milestones. It is also, filled with lots of weird-ass stuff that happens to your body. Obviously, you can ask your doctor anything, but there are some things that require a friend.

When I was pregnant with C, I found myself lacking a go-to resource for icky, highly-personal questions. Most of my friends who had children had them a long time ago and didn't remember. I did have a couple of recently or simultaneously pregnant friends, but I needed to address some very delicate areas that required a certain level of trust that I wouldn't gross them out. On occasion, I turned to pregnancy chat rooms. The problem with that is, everyone tends to post the worst case scenario and scare the crap out of the other mothers. So, a lot of my questions went unanswered.

As a result, I now have a very open policy that I share with any of my friends who become pregnant: there is no question too personal, too gross or too stupid to ask me. If it is a question that I am not comfortable with, I'll figure out a way to answer or help you get the answer.

Pregnancy can be very scary and confusing, but it is even more so if you don't have resources to answer questions like "should my nipples really look like that?" or "how the hell do I shave my legs if I can't reach them?" In case you are wondering - yes, they should and use depilatory cream or have them waxed.

But needing mama friends certainly doesn't end with pregnancy. The gross questions may slow down once the baby is born, but the need to talk to someone who is experiencing the same things increases in spades.

Having other friends with kids the same age allows you to see other types of parenting. Hopefully, your friends aren't the preachy type who make you think you are doing it all wrong. More than one of my mama tricks have come from my community of mama friends. Sometimes, you just need another perspective.

Plus, if you have friends with kids the same age, you get to go on play dates. Now, play dates don't sound fun to most people, but mamas know that you can make them really fun. A very good friend and I recently took our kids to the zoo. I think we had more fun than they did. At least until the lack of napping kicked in and everyone melted down, but it was still great to be out and have a chance to talk and catch up.

Something about being around other mamas takes the stress out of socializing with your kids. If I have a non-mama friend over, I usually feel a little more inclined to keep things in order, keep everyone happy and quiet. But other mamas understand the madness that comes with having small children, so I tend to relax a bit more.

Being a mother is really hard, but it is a lot more fun if you have friends to help you laugh it off, cry it out and have a drink with when it gets to be too much!

Thursday, November 4, 2010

I learned the hard way

I think that it goes without saying that you should always, always have a set of clean sheets on hand for your child's bed. Same goes for pajamas.

But, I have a bad habit of leaving the clean laundry in the basement, near the laundry room. This is a habit that I will now break, at least for the sheets.

Let me tell you that, when your child wakes you up at a ridiculous time in the middle of the night because they have been sick in their bed, the last thing you want to do is trudge downstairs to get clean sheets. If I had just put them away, they would have been in the closet of his room and my only trip downstairs would have been to rinse out the gross sheets, which was bad enough.

I will also let you in on a little-known fact. If your spouse is out of town, that is the night that your child will throw up in bed. Or the power will go out. Or the basement will flood. You get the picture. Now go wash your sheets and put them in your kid's room.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Mummy's juice

Before I start, I should say that I don't drink very much. I am a glass-of-wine-in-the-evening type of person. On with my tale.

I was pouring myself a glass of wine yesterday evening and C came in and our conversation went something like this:

C: Are you having some wine?
Me: Yes. Would you like some juice?
C: Yes please. Apple juice, not Mummy's juice.

Well, it is juice. Kind of.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Feeding the baby

There are a few things to know when you start to introduce the baby to food.

You just need to accept the fact that when you feed a baby, baby food that is, you are going to look like an idiot. The sooner you understand and accept this, the sooner you stop focusing on trying not to make "eat this" faces and spilling food everywhere in the process.

I can remember feeding C and getting food on every part of his face. It was always the worst when it dried into his eyebrows before I wiped him down. Now that I am three kids into the game, I can usually get through an entire meal with F without spilling or smudging beyond his little chin. Of course, there is the occasional lump of oatmeal that gets up his nose, but that is due to his sudden movements more than my skills. This is because I look like a total idiot while I feed him.

My husband hardly gets any food into the baby. Why? Because he doesn't attempt the face-making and baby-tricking tips that I give him.

Aside from face-making, baby-tricking is key. When they first start eating baby food, this is not necessary. However, they reach an age where they get sneaky. This happens earlier than any first-time parent could possibly anticipate. I, for one, thought that kids didn't get sneaky until they could talk (I can practically hear the fits of laughter from the experienced parents who are reading this).

No. They get sneaky early! When they identify a food they don't like, they start to take note of where the spoon originated. When the spoon returns for another scoop the grossness, they make it difficult for you to successfully deliver said grossness. So, you get smarter and hide the dish from their view.

The baby then takes note of the color and/or smell and checks the spoon before it gets to their mouth. See what I mean? They are sneaky little buggers!!

Luckily, by the time they reach this point, they are usually starting to feed themselves and you are onto a whole new set of problems and are no longer distracted by the face-making and baby-tricking.

You are now onto toddler-deceiving, which is a whole other topic for a later post.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Baby addict

I am baby crazy. I love everything, okay, almost everything about babies. I love how soft they are. I adore the way they nuzzle against you. I am nuts for the way they smell (when they aren't stinky). When they pout their little lips and suck in their sleep, I melt.

And it's not just the first few months of babyhood that I love.

Jump ahead a few months and I am all about the cooing. The little sounds they make crack me up. The fact that they develop their little personalities so early fascinates me. One of the cutest things of all is when they first learn to clap their little hands and find it so amusing.

I could really go on for a long, long time.

My husband and I have been extremely fortunate in the baby department. Although M and F were both preemies and had to do stints in the NICU, we have had no major health scares, no colic, manageable teething and overall happy babies. This makes my baby addition a little harder to crack.

Here's another thing that makes it easier: I really don't like being pregnant. I mean I really, really don't like it. My pregnancies have not been easy and, due to the premature birth of one baby already, my pregnancy with F was filled with extra check-ups, weekly injections, hourly medication and a whole lot of worrying.

Does that stop me from wanting another one? No, not really.

My father told me once that he thought I was a baby addict, hence my high output of children in such a small period of time. His theory was that once they reached a certain age, I started realizing that they were not going to be a baby for much longer and, before I would have a chance to miss their baby-ness, I would just get pregnant again. I haven't really had time to test this theory until now.

F is approaching the age at which I would normally be getting production underway again. I was in the office the other day and saw a heavily pregnant co-worker and felt a pang of envy. Envy. For pregnancy. Me, envious of that which I detest.

Shit. My dad was right.

So I come before you today to say:

Hi, my name is Laura and I am a baby addict. Hi, Laura.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

There will be days like this

Bad days (for me) tend to come in batches. A couple of days here. A week there. It usually isn't as simple as waking up in the morning and starting fresh.

I am in the middle of such a period of time. Let me give you a run down of today's events.

The morning started well. The boys all slept all night - no teething screams, no "I'm afraid of the dark" interludes - and I was able to begin the day with a full night of sleep under my belt. That was the high point of the day.

For some unexplained reason, probably having to do with the low pressure system, thunderstorms make my kids really cranky. M threw two really impressive tantrums before I had gotten through my first cup of coffee.

Next, C took a spill that caused a superficial head wound. Once I stopped the bleeding, I spent the next two hours keeping him awake in case of a mild concussion.

Midday brought really gross, dirty diapers from each of my children. Except for C, who is no longer wearing diapers, so that particular mess didn't have the same ease of disposal as his brother's messes. Potty training is a dirty, dirty business.

Fast forward to later in the day and M dives (on purpose) off a chair in my room into the corner of my bed, which wins him a nosebleed. It also gave me my second blood-stained shirt of the day. This noseblees reappeared later on in the evening after he took another fall while coming in from the park. Good thing I hadn't bothered to change my shirt.

The rest of the evening was one screaming fit after another. Headache for C, another tantrum for M and some serious teething pain for F.

Luckily, Nick and I have a non-negotiable bedtime policy, so the madness ended at 8:00 p.m. My mood at this point is sour, at best, and I am confident in assuming that my dreams tonight will be bloody flashbacks of the day.

Today was Day 2, maybe 2 1/2 of this particular bad patch. The other days were not quite as bad, but they were tainted with a bad mood that has settled over our house for a time.

I am more than ready for it to move along, so I can have a normal, mostly managable day. Really, it would just be nice to lose the desire to run out on my own the very second that my husband walks in the door from work. I like to go out for a break every now and then, but needing to leave the moment that someone comes to relieve me is never a good sign.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

I don't have to pull out my hair, it's coming out on its own

A bizarre side effect to pregnancy is that you don't lose any hair while you are carrying the baby. After giving birth, it is only a matter of time before you not only resume normal hair loss, but all of the hair that you didn't lose during pregnancy jumps ship as well. This can result in tumbleweeds of tresses blowing throughout your home.

Some women lose hair in clumps, which I can imagine is frightening. Mine didn't fall out in clumps, but I did lose a staggering amount after having F - way more than I lost with C and M. Further proof that every pregnancy is different.

Many pregnancy books discuss this topic, but they typically say something along the lines of "some increased hair loss is common in the few months after giving birth." That bit of information doesn't prepare you for pulling hair balls the size of a small woodland creature from your shower drain.

Sometimes you need the gory details to truly understand what is coming your way. So, there you go, information AND gross details.

Friday, October 1, 2010


Definition: the miniature vacation that occurs when you get to drive in your car without your children.

When there are kids in the car, the radio stays low, the music is usually child-oriented, there is a lot of buckling and usually some screaming. Even if they are all asleep, they are still there and you have to be aware of them.

A car trip without the kids can be like a little getaway. I put on very loud, very non-child-friendly music. I sing. I dance. I go crazy (while still being a responsible driver). If I am not in the mood for music, I can drive in silence. Complete silence. Like a spa, only without the masseuse and gurgling fountain.

I don't get to be by myself very much, so I take advantage of time on my own whenever I can.

Solo car trips are a treat for me. I don't think my husband understands this, but I know that all of you other child-haulers get what I am saying.

Never underestimate the recuperative potential of a car trip on your own.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Leave 'em behind - just for a bit

Nick and I recently got the chance to go on vacation. Alone. For the first time since our honeymoon. Four years ago.

We had five days of child-free heaven. Yes, we missed our kids, but this was the first time we had had a chance to miss our kids.

A friend of mine asked me how I could possibly leave my babies. The truth is, it wasn't hard to leave them because we needed it and so did they. While Nick and I were on vacation, my boys got some quality time with their grandparents and got to do all the fun stuff that we won't let them do.

The thing about having small children is, it can be really easy to forget your spouse in the everyday madness of keeping your wits about you (or not, in my case). You become Mama and little more. The same things happens to your spouse. Time away from our kids reminded us that there was a time that it was just us and we had fun. It also reminded us that there was a time that we could exist in a room without toys and crumbs everywhere.

My point is, it is important to remember that your spouse is more than just a parent. It also helps to remember that you are more than a parent too.

Monday, September 13, 2010


Definition: the uniform worn by mothers making it possible to identify them from a distance, even when their children are not present.

The momiform of old consisted of "mom" jeans, a t-shirt, athletic shoes and a scrunchie.

Looming around shopping centers and elementary schools, you will notice a bevy of women in yoga pants, tank tops (a hoodie if the weather deems it appropriate) and large sunglasses. This is the momiform of the new generation of mothers.

The classic momiform can still be spotted. But it is becoming the stuff of legends. Like Bigfoot and UFOs, they are seen from time to time. Mothers rocking the classic momiform are beyond fashion's reach and probably still wear a double-breasted blazer with shoulder pads on occasion.

Those that don the new, more hip momiform are still capable of wearing non-elastic pants when they step outside of their motherly duties.

Friday, September 10, 2010

C's dangling experience

We have a detached garage that sits in front of our house, so there is no direct door from the house. As you can imagine, getting three kids out to wherever we are going is no easy task. There is coaxing, balancing and, occasionally, some juggling involved. Now that C is getting a bit older, he runs ahead when we head out.

As we headed out the other day, C rounded the corner and I clicked my garage door opener. I was holding M's hand and carrying F's car seat. M stumbled a bit, but I heard C squealing from around the corner. I guessed that C was trying to pull out our wagon and it was stuck on something, so I helped M to his feet and turned the corner to get into the garage.

You get pretty good at guessing what your kids are up to. Mothers can decode cries and read the sound of feet (mischevious movements sound different than just your average running around), so I was fairly confident in my assessment of what was troubling C.

I was wrong.

C was hanging from the garage door by one hand. He was at least a few feet off the ground, which is a lot when you are only a few feet tall. He was flailing around, still squealing.

After I calmed him down, which took several minutes because he was shaking and thoroughly traumatized, I was able to envision the moment that he must have grabbed the handle on the front of the garage door in an attempt to help pull it open. The problem was, he waited too long to let go and he didn't know what to do, besides hang there.

He now eyes our garage door with a hint of contempt.

Monday, September 6, 2010

He isn't going to go to college...

As a new mother, there are plenty of things that you freak out about. What you don't anticipate is that, after you move onto your second and even third (however many you have), there are still things that unnecessarily throw you into a tizzy.

My mother (who is my own my personal Yoda - only without being small, old and green) has brought me back to reality on more than one occasion. See, I have this tendency to blow things wildly out of proportion. She is kind of like my insanity antidote. Wise she is, yes.


When we were transitioning C to a sip cup, I started panicking because he wasn't getting the hang of tipping up the cup. After a few days of sip cup failures, I called my mother to see how she had taught us to drink from a cup.

Laura: (in a frantic, worried tone) He isn't tipping up the cup! He just sucks on the spout and gets upset because nothing comes out! How do I teach him to tip it up?! What should I do?! He shouldn't be using a bottle anymore!

Laura's Mom: (in a calm, Yoda-like tone) Laura, he'll get the hang of it. He won't go to college drinking from a bottle - at least not a baby bottle. Why don't you try giving him a straw cup that he doesn't have to tip up?

Laura: (now starting to breathe normally) Oh, I didn't think of trying a straw cup. That's a good idea!

There have been many similar conversations throughout C's life thus far. Topics have ranged from C not wanting to eat regular table food to potty training C with his refusal to wear underwear. Her wisdom usually boils down to reminding me that he isn't going to go to college eating baby food or wearing diapers.

But I thought that when I had my second and third children, I would know everything I need to know and I would no longer be making these frantic calls to my mother. Silly Laura. That would mean that every baby is the same. New kid equals new challenges equals more frantic phone calls to my Yoda-like saint of a mother!

Monday, August 23, 2010

I'll never...

Before you become a parent, or an adult for that matter, there is a laundry list of things that you swear you will never, ever do. This list of things is blown out of the water bit by bit, like a slow, painful game of Battleship.

"I will never go out in my sweats with no makeup on." - This was one of the first ones to go. My neighbors probably wouldn't even recognize me with makeup on.

"I will never act like my parents." - Don't even try this one. Parent or not, you will turn into your parents in some form at some point in your life. Being a parent just accelerates the process.

"I will never be one of those parents that..." - You have no idea what you will and won't do as a parent until you are a parent. This excludes the obvious stuff that no parent should do. This is more for things like, "I will never use the TV as a babysitter" or "I will never let my kids eat refined sugar." Kudos to those parents who outline their parenting approach and stick to their guns, but most of parenting is improvising and thinking on your feet. Sometimes, you really need a shower and The Disney Channel is the only babysitter around.

"I will never drive a minivan." - Yeah. I tried really hard to avoid this one, but I have three children in car seats and that doesn't fit in anything smaller than a minivan. I bought the coolest, least minivan-ish minivan on the market, but it is still a minivan.

You get where I am going with this little list. When you plan on becoming a parent, or just plan on growing up, also plan on throwing out your list of "I'll nevers."

Thursday, August 12, 2010


Definition: the ability to understand a toddler who is barely speaking.

Each toddler speaks his or her own language and you, as their mother, can understand a good chunk of their mumblings.

While a bystander might hear "Dasa um nok," you hear "Pardon me mother, but I would like some more milk when you can spare a moment to refill my bottle. Thank you so much. You are very kind and beautiful." Okay, that's probably not the correct translation. It's probably something like "You -- mom-person! Get me more milk NOW!!!!"

See? I am a mom-terpreter!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The voice of uncertainty

The moment the test confirms a pregnancy, we dive into waters of uncertainty. Am I ready? What if I have a miscarriage? Do we need a bigger house? When do I start saving for college? Crap, I had a glass of wine last night - did I just give my baby brain damage? You get the drift.

I hate to break it to you, but this probably won't stop for a long time, if ever. The concerns just change over time.

Wow, Laura, aren't you just a little ray of sunshine.

Well, hold on. It isn't all doom and gloom. In my opinion, these worries just confirm how much you care and that you want to do the right things. I have found that the little voice who churns out lists of my insecurities has quieted over time. It hasn't gone away and sometimes it manages to find a loud speaker, but by and large it has become a dull buzzing in the back of my mind. I usually can't hear it over the sound of my boys laughing as they play.

I have found a pretty good antidote for my little loud speaker that you can try. When it gets bad, I ask one of my kids for a hug and a kiss. I know they will reach an age where I get an eye roll and a groan to my request, but, for now, they are little and eager to please. I get my hug and my kiss and I realize that I must be doing something right.

If you are pregnant and these concerns well up, give your tummy a little poke. Chances are, your little one will poke right back, which is the prenatal equilalent of a hug and a kiss and just as powerful.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Queen to chamber maid: the difference between being pregnant and being Mama

When my husband and I got married, we were the first in both of our families to do so. Being the first family wedding in a long time, everyone was very excited. Their excitment for the wedding was nothing compared to the insanity that ensued when we announced, not all that long after the wedding, that we were expecting our first baby. The first grandchild, the first nephew/niece, the first grand nephew/niece, and on and on.

I was immediately exalted to a place of worship. Everyone cared about how I was feeling. Every doctor's appointment was crucial. Every new sign of the life within was fascinating. Every task and chore was too much for my delicate state.

Then came the baby.

There is a scene in Lady and the Tramp where Jock and Trusty tell Lady what happens to the family dog when a baby comes along. It is kind of like that - without being forced to eat the leftover baby food.

I jest. My family far from ignores me by any means. While the kids are the main attraction, they still take interest in Mama.

Plus, I'll let you in on a little secret. Unleash the kids on the grandparents, aunts, uncles and you can bow out for a bit. I'm not talking about doing a runner to Vegas, but a nap upstairs may go unnoticed. Just think of it - a nap!

Friday, August 6, 2010

Old Me?! When did I become New Me?!

Before you have kids, you swear that you won't let becoming a parent change you. Hip and cool will be the words that everyone uses to describe you. You'll lose all your pregnancy weight right away and no one will even be able to tell that you have a kid. Late nights won't leave you tired. A shower will be had, hair and makeup done everyday - you'll still be smokin'.

Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you that you are condemned to a lifetime of frumpiness. Hot moms exist and you can be one, just not all of the time.

My kids have changed my life in every way possible, but it took me quite some time to see how much. When you lose (or gain) a lot of weight, you don't really see how drastic the change is until someone you haven't seen in a long time reacts to your new look. Stay with me, I'm almost to my point.

I was on the phone with one of my close, non-parent friends. She lives far away and we don't get to talk very often. We were talking about the possibility of taking a trip together with a few of our other girlfriends and she said, "You won't have the kids, so you can be like the Old Laura for a few days."

Have I changed that much? Does she think I am lame and boring now that I am a mom? Other similare questions along that line swam into my head and stayed there for days.

It helps to know that I was in full hormone overdrive when she said this, but the sentiment still stings a bit. I even went so far as to ask my dad if he thought I had changed and he told me that he thought I was a completely different person. This did not help to calm my fears that I had become some kind of Loser Mommy Pod Person.

Time, as usual, brings perspective. Of course becoming a mother would change me and it isn't a bad thing. Do my friends see me differently now? Yes. Does that suck? Well, sometimes it does. I have a lot of non-parent friends and being a mother makes you "older" than everyone else. You are automatically passed by for party invites because it is assumed that you can't get a babysitter. Late nights wouldn't be an option because of those early mornings anyway. On the other hand, the perks are way better. I get baby kisses, tickly giggles and smiles that could light the world. I am the infallible, unstoppable Mommy.

Old Laura isn't entirely gone. There are pictures of her around the house. I have some great memories of her. If I tried to conjure her for a night or two while I am away from the kids, she might make a cameo, but it would be a mere shadow of her. New Laura is here to stay. While not all of my friends will have kids down the road, they will all have an Old Me someday. I think parents just get them sooner.

Help from a brother

In preparation for pre-school, we are potty training C. This has been a very, very long process that started last year. Upon meeting his first potty chair, he stuffed it with bananas (like you do) and laughed at us.

Anyway, we have finally made some headway with potty training and M has decided to do his part.

Now that he is talking, M follows C around repeating the following statement:

Do you have to go pee-pee?!

Friday, July 23, 2010

Trying to find the time

Being a mom is a full-time job.

This is a load of crap. Being a mom is a 24-hour-a-day job. It never ends. An actual job on top of that just adds to the stress. I only work part-time and I still want to pull my hair out most days.

I get up in the morning with whichever kid wakes up first. Changing, feeding, playing all start right away. I get some coffee made an ingested as soon as humanly possible, which takes the edge off. My corporate job comes next. Email, databases, phone calls get taken care of in between more changing, feeding, playing and, hopefully, more coffee.

After lunch, I try, usually in vain, to get the kids to nap. This rarely happens, so the afternoon consists of trying to entertain whichever kid is abstaining from sleep, as well as trying to get some more work done.

My husband comes home and takes over the entertainment aspect of things. I grab a few minutes to breathe and maybe clean up a bit before I make dinner. After dinner is bath, about an hour of little naked bodies dancing around and screaming, followed by bedtime. We clean up the house and have a little downtime before crashing ourselves.

I have given you this rundown of my typical day to convey the lack of time to do, well, anything not for my children or my job. I have become enamored with writing over the last few years. While it is always an activity that is available to me, I find that my creativity likes to spark when I am unable to indulge myself. I seem to have my best ideas when I am drifting off to sleep and have, on occasion, been known to get up an write. Sometimes, jotting ideas down in my notebook just isn't enough. As much as I love it, this creates a vicious cycle. I forego sleep to write, which leaves me exhausted for the next day's insanity.

I know I am fortunate to have a hobby that I can delve into at any time, but I am finding that I am short on time with which to delve.

Wow, I really went off on a little rant there, didn't I?

Very cool giveaway

I came across a fellow writer's blog the other day and she is doing a very cool giveaway on her site. This is a new approach to self-promotion that I hope to have a reason to use someday. In the meantime, she is giving away some cool prizes.


Saturday, June 26, 2010

A much-needed vacation

Sometimes, you have to step away. I love my children more than anything else in this world. That being said, sometimes, I need to get away. Now into my second day of vacation, I have had the chance to sleep and sit quietly. The ability to do nothing for an entire day makes me feel like I have spent a week at a spa. The opportunity for some time away is one that I take whenever it presents itself.

I have a few friends who look at me with shock when I tell them that I am leaving my babies behind for a trip by myself. How can I do it? Won't I miss them?

Well, of course I'll miss them. But I do it as much for them as I do for me. Once rested, I will return a happier, more patient mother. It is a win-win situation.

I try to always appreciate my family and nothing reminds me how much I love them, and like them for that matter, like being away from them for a few days.

Monday, June 7, 2010

The post-baby body a.k.a. The car crash

While you are pregnant, your body ceases to be yours. Hint: Your body is the car in this analogy. It's kind of like handing over the keys to your car to someone who can't drive, won't pay the speeding tickets they get and won't repair the damage when they total your ride (My father is laughing right now because I am also accurately describing what it is like to raise teenagers, specifically me).

You don't get to reclaim your rightful territory for quite a while after having your bunde of joy. First, you will get to breastfeed and I'll leave that topic for another post. Then, the hormones will take over. A lot of this part happens while you are still nursing, but I got a whole new wave of hormone fun when I moved my babies to formula. Then, and only then, can you begin to repair the damage.

I can't even begin to explain the transformation that you will experience, but most of us end up having pretty similar issues. There are the rare women that roll out of the hospital in their pre-baby jeans and are back in their bikinis by the summer. These women are either blessed by nature and incredible genetics or have a personal trainer, personal chef, nutritionist and a live-in nanny to watch the baby while they shrink back to a size that women were never intended to be - it is probably a combination of both of these things. Just remember, we could all look like that given enough time, money and plastic surgery.

Anyway, back to the similar issues. The big one that we all have is the overall jiggliness. Most prevalent in the mid-section, your toddler may want to play with it because the way that it ripples for a few seconds after poking it makes him laugh (true story).

After three kids, my jiggliness is extensive, so I am in damage control mode, which mainly entails jogging and trying not to eat the kids' snacks. Jogging makes me laugh because it also causes large waves of the aforementioned rippling.

Another lovely side effect of pregnancy is stretch marks. I know there are a thousand creams and oils on the market to prevent them and, while they do help with some of the dryness, the rule of thumb is if your mother has them, you'll have them too. I don't hate my stretch marks as much as some other mothers I know. A good friend of mine told me that she wasn't ashamed of hers because she looked at them as battle scars that she earned. I remember that every time I look at mine and remember what I went through to get them. Somehow, I find it hard to use the same approach for my jiggliness.

Now that I have my keys back, I am trying to rebuild, especially since totaling this car and upgrading to the new model isn't an option at this dealership!

Friday, June 4, 2010


While changing disgusting diapers will become second nature, new parents should be warned that the worst diapers will wait until you are out of wipes. You may not be totally out (the invention of Costco has made that unlikely), but your dipenser or box will be empty. This is just Murphy's Law as it applies to parenting.

Thursday, June 3, 2010


Definition: all of your children napping at once. Very rarely found in nature.

You don't really appreciate a quiet house until there is someone else controlling the noise level.

I have become skilled at the art of packing four hours of kid-free activities into the one or two hours of sleeping bliss that I get on the very rare occasion that I am blessed with overlapping naps.

Today brought an hour-and-a-half of simul-napping. In that time I:
-ran three reports for work
-purged the toybox
-reclaimed a corner of my kitchen that has been drowning in papers and random household items for months
-watched a back episode of a favorite TV show that has been on my DVR since March
-wrote this blog post

Try to use this new word in a sentence today!

Friday, May 21, 2010

The puddle

When you have three children, you tend to miss things. That is my defense for this particular story.

After changing C into his pull-up yesterday, I sat down to feed the baby. A few feet away, C said, "It's wet, Mama."

Assuming that he was referring to the ground outside, I continued to focus on the baby. A moment later, I noticed that C was jumping around and I turned to take a closer look, just expecting him to be doing a little dance or something.

But, alas, his pull-up had leaked and formed a small puddle of pee on the tile floor. He thought that this was just another puddle and started to jump in it, like he would if it were just another puddle.

After cleaning him off and disinfecting my floors (the little pee footprints went all the way down the hallway), I was finally able to laugh at what had just happened.

I know that this is destined to become one of the stories that I tell to embarrass him in his teen years.

Monday, May 17, 2010


They don't exist. If you meet a mom who claims to have perfect kids, she is either lying or she is in some serious denial. All kids misbehave from time to time - some more than others, but no kid is perfect and there is definitely no such thing as a perfect mother.

The woman who claims to be a supermom - organized, relaxed, perfectly coiffed and stain-free all while juggling her children, job and home without any snags or worries - is probably spiking her morning coffee with whiskey and Xanax.

I am all for being organized, relaxed, perfectly coiffed and stain-free, but I will admit the trials and tribulations I endured to get there!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Mother's Day: better every year

First off, I would like to wish all of the mamas a belated Happy Mother's Day! My day was just too precious to interrupt with a sit-down at my computer to write a post.

Now to my post. Mother's Day is truly great. There is nothing like Mother's Day when you are pregnant, knowing that next year will not just be a drill. There is nothing like your first real Mother's Day, looking at that tiny face that doesn't have a clue what the day means to you. There is nothing like the first Mother's Day that your child comes running in to the bedroom to wake you up with a kiss.

Now I imagine there will come a year when my children are annoyed by Mother's Day. I can anticipate that there will be arguments with my boys about getting dressed up for brunch with their grandparents and crankiness when they don't want to get up early (10:00 a.m.) to go to brunch. Having my boys so quickly means that I will have three teenagers on my hands for a condensed period of time, which will may alter my Mother's Day for a time.

But, someday, they will see the point of the day. To appreciate the woman that gave them life. While they don't appreciate or even understand it now, they at least revel in my happiness, being the easy-to-please small children they are.

In the midst of my Mother's Day, which included a diner breakfast, laying around the house, making homeade pizzas with the kids, cuddling with a snoozing baby and reading magazines (all favorite activites of mine), I did take some time to think about how much I love and appreciate my mother. If I do my job well (like she did), they too will stop and think about their mother on Mother's Day. Granted, it will be years after the bitching and moaning about getting dressed up for brunch has ceased.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Where the time goes

When you talk to moms, particularly of the grandmother variety, they will constantly tell you how quickly the time passes. Prior to having children, you will shrug and wonder how quickly it could possibly go, maybe it goes faster for older people.

I am here to tell you that they are so right!

The day-to-day may pass slowly, but one day you will be cleaning up after your 3-year-old and find a picture of him as a newborn and you will have to steady yourself as you desperately try to remember when he was ever that small.

I, personally, think that you get lost in some kind of diaper-changing time warp.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Spanx: nowhere for the food to go

A necessary evil of the postpartum state is some kind of stomach sucky-holdy-in device. I am a big fan of Spanx. These put grannie panties to shame in their size and they are impenetrable. If Kevlar designed undergarments, Spanx is what you would get.

While they easily shave inches off your waistline (once you get into them, which can take some time), I don't recommend eating a large meal in Spanx. I was caught off-guard by an unexpectedly large meal that put my Spanx to the test. And guess what? In all of their sucky-holdy-in glory, Spanx don't leave you any room for food!!!! By the time you get to a place where you can take them off, you feel like a stuffed sausage or a hot dog (the kind in a natural casing that snaps when you pierce it).

So, the lesson here is: Spanx are great, but a large meal in Spanx, not so great.

Hmmm, maybe if I wear Spanx all of the time, I'll just stop eating large meals, which would ultimately eradicate the need for Spanx. Too bad I love food too much for that particular approach!

Friday, April 23, 2010

I have to clean where?

Even when babies are relaxed, they keep their little hands clenched in fists. This results in a build-up of lint.

No one told me that I would have to de-lint my kid. I found that one out on my own.

This has to be done on their little toes too. Luckily, baby feet are a hell of a lot cuter than the adult variety. A hidden perk - those little feet are usually ticklish, so toe de-linting may lead to your baby's first giggle. Well worth the very strange step in baby maintenance.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Grocery store swayers

Next time you are waiting in line at the grocery store, look around and see if you can spot a woman who is, ever so slightly, swaying from side to side. This woman is a mother. How do I know this? I know this because she has spent so much time rocking a baby at home that she does it automatically any time that she is not sitting in a rocking chair. Since having children, I think I am incapable of standing still. When I find myself standing, with or without a child in my arms, I start moving before too long. Movement is comforting to babies and even toddlers and, after a while, it becomes comforting to mommies too.

So, now I promise you two things: one, you will notice a woman standing alone and swaying at some point; two, you will laugh because you know I am right.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

I stand corrected

Well, F proved me wrong last night by sleeping straight through again. You would think that by my third kid I would know what is coming. Just goes to show you that, when it comes to kids, all you can really expect is the unexpected. That and no one really has a clue what they are doing - the best you can do is roll with it.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Oh, sweet sleep!

There are many milestones that you will experience in the early stages of parenting. The first smile in the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. The first smile is the greatest sound. There will be others that will hold high rank as well. But none of them will be as personally rewarding as the first time the baby sleeps through the night. I am not talking about almost sleeping through the night - I mean when he goes all the way. The first night is the greatest because you don't expect it. You put the baby to sleep fully expecting to be woken up around 3 or 4 or whenever he usually wakes up, except it doesn't happen! You will role over in the morning and glance at the clock to find it is 6 or 7 and shoot up out of bed like someone just hit you with a cattle prod because you just assume that something is wrong (and hopefully all is well). You'll rush into the nursery and sigh with relief when you see him breathe and fidget. This is then followed by a cocky saunter back to bed and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this little creature that has given you the gift of sleep.

But, my fellow new mothers, be warned: very rarely will this phenomena be a permanent fixture right away. Following this magnificent occurrence, the baby will most likely resume his previous schedule for a night or two. Basically, he was teasing you. But have no fear. A night or two more and it will happen again. And then maybe again the next night. Then you are well on your way to having a full night's sleep every night. From then on you are a new person, my friend.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Mom Law #54

Come up with a swear-word alternative. When your children reach mimic age (a dangerous time), having a neutral word to use in place of cursing comes in really handy. My advice, start training yourself to use this word when the baby is born, so when you hit mimic age, you are ready. I have a few different ones, but "fudge" gets used the most. I should probably come up with a more inconspicuous one.

Book reviews

Two new book reviews! Check them out!

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Babies - the master manipulators

There are those in this world that have a special talent for bending the will of others and using their assets to their advantage. Interrogators lulling suspects into a false sense of security to obtain a confession. Teenage boys cooing words of love and forever to coerce their naive girlfriends into a more intense make-out session or teenage girls giving promises of a date to the geeky boy in class in exchange for a completed homework assignment or two.

None of these people hold a candle to the cunning guile of babies. Let me set the scene. It is 2:30 in the morning and this small creature has been fussing just often enough to prevent his parents from getting any quality sleep. Mom gets up with the baby to feed and change him. Fumbling with his diaper through hazy eyes and grumbling under her breath about how she would give anything for just one night of uninterrupted sleep, the baby stops crying, looks up at her with his glassy eyes and smiles. The mother forgets entirely that she hasn't slept, forgets entirely that the baby has been crying and even forgets that it is 2:30 in the morning.

Sensing that his mother is at the peak of frustration, this baby outright played his mother. That smile was like the memory eraser that Tommy Lee Jones used in Men in Black, one flash and everything else was gone. She no longer cared about most things. Her little angel smiled and all was right with the world.

Toddlers have similar abilities to dazzle and distract their parents, but their skills aren't quite as finely tuned as their infant selves once were.

So, next time you are up with your baby and have reached the brink of madness with sleep deprivation, pay careful attention to your baby. You won't care that he is doing it, but it is fascinating to watch him completely change you with one deft move. You don't stand a chance, so just accept your fate and smile back.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Book reviews

If you enjoyed my post on books (see below), take a look at my new book review page. There is a tab at the top of the page that will take you there. I'll post new reviews as quickly as I can read new books!

Girlfriends, a necessary ingredient for sanity

There are many luxuries available to modern mothers. Disposable diapers, childproof locks and Valium are all things that we have, but could probably live without and still make it through the day. There are a few absolutely non-negotiable things you must have as a mom and, in my expert opinion, one of those things is a girlfriend that you can always rely on. I am not talking about the other moms that you casually strike up a conversation with at the playground, although one of those mothers could turn out to be the quintessential girlfriend. I am talking about the one, or if you are really lucky, ones, who you can call at any time for any reason and they will be there. The chosen girlfriend doesn't have to be a mother, as long as she can tolerate the endless mom-talk that may be required at times and would make most non-mothers phase you out as a friend.

Particularly in the immediate postpartum phase of motherhood, you will be so overcome with hormones and sleep deprivation that you won't know what hit you. I have, on more than one occasion, called my best friend and done nothing more than blubber on the phone. There were times that I wasn't able to form complete sentences and she provided the words of encouragement that I needed. Sometimes, you will just need someone to complain to. There will also be times that you need to listen to someone talk about something else entirely. My best friend is particularly gifted at taking my mind off of whatever it is that is troubling me.

I am fortunate to have a few friends who fit the bill and one, in particular, that is my number one go-to friend for leaning on. Try to never alienate this friend, as she has the ability to single-handedly save your sanity many a time.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Mom Law #178

Always carry gum. You never know when you will be halfway to your destination before you realize that you forgot to brush your teeth. While it is better than forgetting one of the kids, it is still unpleasant.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Books that I would ignore my children to read

A friend of mine was recently discussing a book club she is in and some of the books they have been tackling. She said that a few of them were so good that it was hard not to ignore her children when she was reading. That got me to thinking - which books have I read are so good that I would shrug off my motherly duties to lose myself in their pages?

I am a serial re-reader, so the mark of a great book, for me, is one that I pick up again and again and it still captivates me like it is the first time. That being said, I am not claiming that these books are great pieces of literature. I would love to be a book snob and list some of the really complex, tedious classics to make you think I am really smart. While I have read my share of high-brow stuff, sometimes you just want to disappear into a really good story!

So, here are a few of the books that I can't read when my kids are around because they are too hard to put down and, before you know it, one is crying, one is hanging off of the microwave and I can't find the third.

Harry Potter 1 - 7, by J.K. Rowling
Talk about disappearing into a good story! Not only does reading these books make me ignore my children, I forget I have children at all. J.K. Rowling provided her readers with the ultimate fantasy world. After reading the series more than a few times, I am not entirely convinced that there isn't a secret wizarding world hidden from us muggles.

The Twilight Saga 1 - 4, by Stephenie Meyer
I'll take some flack from my book snob friend, Joe, for putting these on my list, but I don't care. I read all four of these books over a two-week period and immediately read them again. I have mentioned how amazing my husband is in past posts and even he paled in comparison to Edward. The first book transported me right back to high school when my crush would walk past and I would get butterflies in my stomach. We should all have an Edward. Unless, of course, you prefer Team Jacob (you know who you are).

Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert
Funny, moving, enlightening and very entertaining. There are elements of this book that I have incorporated into my life, so I can honestly say that it was life-changing. If I had read this book before I had kids, I would have been on the next flight to Italy and this blog would be about my crazy travels.

The Other Boleyn Girl, by Philippa Gregory
That King Henry was a naughty, naughty boy. Not many men have the nerve to sleep with a girl and then marry her sister. I have always found English history fascinating, so Philippa Gregory's books are right up my alley and this is her best by far. Make yourself a proper cup of English tea and curl up with this one on a rainy day.

The Devil in the White City, by Erik Larson
This is a true story about a gruesome murderer, the building of the World's Fair in Chicago and how their fates were intertwined. The thing that I love about this book is that I constantly forget that it actually happened. It reads like the best of crime novels, but the pictures scattered throughout the book remind you that it was all real. I have read it a few times and it still gives me chills. This is a book that I recommend to absolutely everyone.

The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas
The one piece of classic literature on my list is one of my most worn out books in my collection. And don't go and cheat by buying the abridged version. You need to read this one in all of it's 1,243 page glory. It has one of the best chapter titles ever written - How To Rescue A Gardener from Dormice Who Eat His Peaches. This could have ended in a few places and I would have been satisfied, but it keeps building and getting better and better, culminating in the ultimate tale of revenge.

I have other favorite books, but I would be writing forever if I dared to tackle my entire list! These were the can't-put-it-down-even-when-the-kids-are-tearing-my-house-to-shreds books. Let's face it, they are tearing apart the house anyways, so I might as well entertain myself while they do!

Friday, March 26, 2010

Ugh, golf season

My husband approaches the start of golf season roughly the way that a small child anticipates Christmas. As the winter melts away, he gets increasingly fidgety and starts doing a little golf season dance.

In general, I have nothing against the game of golf. It isn't for me, but I have no problem with the sport itself. However, the fact that, starting sometime in April, my husband disappears for half the weekend any time that I will let him does pose some problems.

I should clarify that my husband is truly great. I am not sure that I would change anything about him if I were starting over and making him from scratch. Okay maybe a couple of things, but they are all petty and things that, deep down, I love him for anyway. Seriously, he is an amazing father. He cleans. He can't cook much, but if I am too tired, he whips up the one thing that he can make without complaint. He encourages me to relax when I can and never complains when I need to take a day to myself.

Enter the warm weather and there is now a mistress to tend to - golf. And this year, she is coming early. What a bitch. So now my doting husband will spend five or six hours of our Saturday and Sunday with his slow-paced and, in my opinion, dull hobby, instead of giving me some much needed assistance.

Selfish, I know. He works hard too. But with regards to this particular issue, I have to say that I don't really care. Ultimately, I'll let him go and just mumble and mope around with the kids until he gets home.

Not until October will I return to my normal, sunny self on the weekends when the chill returns and he has no choice but to hang out with us again. It is one of the few reasons that I appreciate this weird and typically cool climate in which we live.

For now, I have the whole spring and summer ahead of me to gripe. Stupid golf.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Must... have... more... coffee...

In my years of condensed parenting experience (I say condensed because few people are insane enough to have three children in such quick succession), I have learned that a key ingredient to being the mother of small children is a steady supply of caffeine. Cruelly, Mother Nature dictated that caffeine is one of those things that is bad to have while you are nursing, so the supply must be limited when it is needed most. The first few weeks and months of a new baby are when you need a direct line of caffeine and you just can't have it.

In my case, F was a preemie and nursing is not something that I was able to do, directly that is, after he spent 16 days in the NICU. My nursing came in the form of pumping full-time, which is the most inconvenient way to pass on the nutrients of breastmilk. It wouldn't be so bad if F were my only child. Infants don't do a whole lot, which would leave a lot of time for pumping as much I need to. However, trying to pump with two other children running around and making demands of their own made it nearly impossible. It became a form of entertainment for C who, after observing a session or two, wanted to participate. This was fine when it was just wanting to press the buttons and adjust the strength - even though he did turn up the pump strength to the highest level one day, which almost sucked me into the tube. Towards the end, C was trying to participate by taking the cups and attempting to apply them to his own "boobies" after pulling up his shirt like I did. Bless his little heart. He declared that he was going to "pump the milk for Baby F."

My ability to produce enough milk for F has evaporated, literally, which brings me back to my discussion of caffeine. Now that I am free from the worry that I would make F hyper beyond the ability to sleep, I find myself ready to mainline the stuff. As I type, I am on my fourth cup of the morning. It doesn't seem like a lot, but I have been taking care of the kids, which prevented me from downing the other eight cups that I would have had if I had not been busy.

So, if you plan on having a baby anytime soon, make sure your coffee maker is at the ready (I got a new one to remove any doubt) and start buying the beans in bulk!

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Visiting the pediatrician

I can remember the first time that I took C to the pediatrician and he had to have a vaccination. There I was with this tiny baby and I had to hold him down while a cruel, unfeeling nurse stabbed my innocent angel with a saber-sized needle. Tears rolling down my cheeks, I couldn't believe that I had to stand by while my baby was in pain and that I was participating.

Flash forward to today when I take F to the pediatrician for his two month checkup. I am ready with a bottle to stick in his mouth when the nurse finishes not one, but two shots. I don't blink as I brace his leg and I am reassuring the nurse that the baby won't hold a grudge and to go ahead and stick the kid.

Who is the cruel, unfeeling one now?

This is one of the many differences between your first kid and your third. With experience comes tolerance and the ability to ignore most things.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010


No less than 10 people have asked me if we are going to have another baby to try for a girl. According to my doctor, my C-Section scar won't be fully healed for another month and I am already fielding family expansion questions. You have got to be kidding me.

At least let me adjust to three babies before I consider the fourth and, no, if I have another baby it is not going to be because I am trying to have a girl. Statistics are not on my side. Look it up.

New addition

Let me give you a short rundown of the situation:

C is 3 1/2
M is 1 1/2
F is 2 months
Husband without whom I certainly could not survive

All boys.
All the time.

Still on maternity leave from my full-time job, things have been somewhat under control so far. F is turning out to be the easiest baby of the bunch. I am fairly confident that any semblance of order will disappear when work comes back into the picture, but I can tackle that later.

Regardless of F's easy nature, I have started to resemble some sort of horror movie creature. I think a cross between a zombie and the Bride of Frankenstein (my hair is unpredictable these days) paints the most accurate portrait. I actually feel bad for my husband who comes home to this monster-wife hybrid after work every day. No amount of concealer is enough to perk up the sallow pallor I have developed after two months on maternity leave during a particularly gross winter.

Still learning how to juggle three kids along with the rest of life. Should be entertaining to follow me as I learn how!