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Conversations With My Husband

Eric: What happened to your butt?  You used to have this big butt like out to here, but now it’s just a firm butt.

Me:  Your daughter ate it off of me.  I’m sure once I stop nursing it will go back to the way it was and be big again.

Eric:  Okay, but like, is the rest of you going to be big too?

 

Me:  She hasn’t shit all day.

Eric:  I love a good easy pee diaper.  Real quick pee diaper is good, but the poop ones.  NO WAY.

 

Me:  Isn’t she so cute?  Sometimes I just want to squeeze her.

Eric:  Sometimes I get so hyper when I look at her because she’s so cute that I bite her. I just bite her head.

 

Eric: Do you know how to do the dab?

Me:  What the fuck is the dab?

Eric: *Imitates a ridiculous dance.*

Me:  I don’t understand how you even hear about this stuff.

Eric:  I have to stay hip with the times.

Me:  But WHERE do you hear about it?  Do you just google “hip dances?”

Eric:  Um, Worldstar Hip Hop.  It’s an app.  The dab is easy, but the kwon is hard.

On Letting Charlotte Cry It Out

Eric:  We have to be strong.  We just have to be strong and do this and she will be better for it.

Me:  Okay, but it’s your turn to go in there and comfort her.

Eric:  But she’s crying and it breaks my heart and I don’t want to go in there.  You go in.

Eric:  I am exhausted.

Me:  Me too.  Me too.

All The Nice Things My Daughter Hates

In no particular order, here are all of the nice things Charlotte Shea Schwartz currently despises:

  • Sleeping far away from the 24 hour Vegas buffet that my boobs have become.  If she can’t roll over and have a meal mid sleep, she hates it.  It’s no wonder her thighs are the same size and shape as the Disney World turkey legs.
  • Pacifiers.  At 4 months old she ripped the pacifier out of her mouth, threw it on the ground and never looked back.  If I give one to her now she chews on it like a dog and then throws it.  So much for being a sleep aid.
  • Bibs.  Why should she need to wear a bib when she’s eating?  Why protect her clothes from baby food stains?  Why do such a thing?  She’d rather be ass naked anyway so it doesn’t matter to her if her nice clothes get stains all over them.  She isn’t doing the laundry either so she gives zero fucks.
  • Sitting down.  Now that she can stand up she refuses to sit.  Sitting is SUCH A NICE THING.  When I get on the subway and find a seat I race to it like it’s the fucking Pamplona Bull Run.  No sitting for her.
  • Safe toys.  Why play with nice safe toys when you can find a cell phone or a cell phone charger and shove that into your mouth and potentially be electrocuted? Or find the ONE LEAF on the floor that I didn’t catch with my daily vacuuming and put that in her mouth and GAG ON IT.  BECAUSE IT’S A DISGUSTING LEAF AND GOD KNOWS HOW MANY GERMS ARE NOW DOWN HER THROAT.
  •  Diaper changes.  The second her body hits the changing pad it’s war of the flipping babies.  The screaming and twisting and general disdain is out of control.  Oh, I’m sorry I’m trying to take the giant shit diaper off of your body.  Why would you like a nice clean diaper?  FUCK NICE CLEAN DIAPERS MOM.  FUCK THEM.

 

 

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

I’m going to share a photo with you all.  Can anyone guess where this photo was taken?

 

IMG_0922

If you guessed INSIDE MY DAUGHTER’S CRIB, you guessed correctly!  Ding, ding, ding!  The prize is awarded to you!!  We’re hitting all new lows in the Schwartz household.  I thought it got easier as they got older?  Jokes on me!

Last night the beast formerly known as my daughter went to bed just fine like she has been.  She GOES to bed alright, it’s when she wakes up a few hours later and demands all of the attention that I’m fucked.  And I TRIED CRY IT OUT AGAIN SO DON’T EVEN LECTURE ME.  She started choking on her sobs and almost threw up, so I’m not doing it again.  Anyway, last night she went in to bed and then 45 minutes later Eric and I wanted to watch The Affair, and just as the opening credits rolled I heard her.  So I decided to just feed her again and stick her back in the crib to continue watching the show.  Easy peasy.

LOLOLOLOL.

She went back in and then picked her head up and screamed at me and sat up and screamed again.  So I decided that since I have tried just about everything, why not just hop into the fucking crib and see what happens.  I am SURE this is frowned upon just as much as her sleeping in my bed is frowned upon.  But you know what?  I AM TOO EXHAUSTED TO GIVE A SHIT.  She was SO confused that it was comical.  BUT DO YOU SEE HER EYES CLOSED?  SHE WENT TO SLEEP.  So I hopped out with all the grace of a deer trying to cross a crowded highway and got to watch the show and sleep for 2 hours before she woke up and ruined my REM sleep once again.  And then I brought her into bed with me, because I’ve fucked up her sleeping habits enough that I may as well continue on the path of pure destruction.

But we slept, and I don’t want to claw my eyes out today, so technically I WIN.

Help me Jesus.

Too Tired To Function

Sorry for the lack of posts, friends.  I am just too tired to form any kind of rational thoughts.  Charlotte is just a full time anti-sleep dictator and we are all suffering.  There isn’t a concealer out there that can adequately cover the bags under my eyes.

HELP ME SANTA.

HELP ME JESUS.

HELP ME ANYONE.

I sure hope Charlotte likes being an only child.

When Mothering is Hard

The past couple of days have been tough.  Charlotte is doing all of the following at one time:

  • Getting four new teeth (one of which has only broken the surface of the gum)
  • Sitting up in her crib without laying down
  • Standing up in her crib without sitting down
  • Standing up on anything and everything and moving like she wants to walk
  • Crawling with expert efficiency all over the damn house

All of these things combined together mean for the worst sleep EVER.  On Thursday night, I actually watched her sit up while she was STILL SLEEPING and then woke up all freaked out because she wasn’t lying down anymore.  Even when she was in our bed, she was crying out in pain because of her swollen gums.  I get it, it’s hard for her, and for us.  So because I’ve been short on sleep, I’ve been short on patience, and when she starts flipping over 57 times when I’m trying to put a diaper on her, or when she starts screaming like she’s trapped inside an erupting volcano when I’m trying to dress her for bed, I’ve been agitated.  And it makes me feel SHITTY.  I don’t even like to admit it, but the other day as she was screaming and hitting me and kicking me because I was trying to change her, I yelled out “CHARLOTTE I JUST CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE.”  Between the terrible sleeping, working, trying to make dinners, trying to have my house not look like a war zone, I just snapped.  I’m crying as I type this because in that moment I felt like the worst mother.  Because there are people who there who want babies and don’t have them and here I am with this amazing little girl and I yelled and just couldn’t deal with it.

But you know what I realized? Mothering is hard.  It is harder than I ever imagined it would be, but it is the most rewarding thing I have ever done.  I am trying to be the best mother, the best wife, the best daughter, the best worker and the best friend all at the same time, and I need to realize I can’t do everything at once.  There is no way I will ever be perfect.  I will lose my patience, I will cry, I will snap.  But Charlotte will still love me and I will still love her.  Those moments of pure frustration will be replaced with moments of pure love and happiness.  The times when I feel like I’m going to snap and break into a million little pieces from the sheer weight of trying to do everything  will be replaced when Charlotte sleeps for a 7 hour stretch and says the word “mama” when I walk into the room like she did last night.  It’s like she knows just how far to push me to the point where I’m going to break, and then she reels me right back and makes me whole again.  What a beautiful, scary, exhausting, relentless, AMAZING adventure motherhood is.

 

Life With Charlotte: 9 Months

YOU GUYS.  My baby is going to be one in THREE MONTHS.  What in the F is that about?  We took her to her 9 month check up on Monday and I made the appointment for her next visit which will be her ONE YEAR visit and I kind of had a mental break down over it because seriously, HOW FAST IS THIS GOING.  I can’t accept it.

Here are some fun things that Charlie girl is accomplishing in her 9 months on Earth:

  • Still sleeping like an asshole.  Now she does this fun thing where she sits up and doesn’t know how to lay back down so she screams, starts to fall asleep while sitting up and then jerks awake and screams again.  Eric and I are having a really great time with it.  Most fun we’ve had in years.
  • Crawling EVERYWHERE.  When I make dinner when I get home from work she zooms in from the living room and starts to pull at my legs for me to pick her up.  I usually throw 4 or 5 pieces of tupperware on the floor to amuse her, or show her the dishwasher to bang on, or give her a wooden spoon to hit things.  I’m a great mom.
  • Her top two teeth are starting to show signs of coming in.  The doctor said they’ll be here soon so maybe that’s why she doesn’t sleep.
  • She has just started to wave hello ON HER OWN.  It’s wild.  She did it to me yesterday when I walked in the door and she did it to my father in law this morning when he came over.  It’s the cutest effing thing.  I tried to command her to do it so I could get it on video but she didn’t, of course.
  • She’s all about standing up all the time.  Her favorite thing to do is just hold onto your hands and stand there.  It’s a pretty boring game for mama but she loves it.
  • She says mama and dada, and we’re 99.9% sure she knows what she’s saying and it isn’t just babbling.  The other day when she woke up from a nap and saw me laying next to her, she opened her eyes and looked at me and said mama.  And then when she sees Eric she starts in with dadadada.  Even if she doesn’t understand it, we’re just going to pretend like she does because it makes us happy.  Sometimes she says baby too, and other times she just screams random sounds.  I think she just likes to hear her own voice.
  • Last night for the first time she cried when Eric left for work.  He picked her up and she stopped crying and smiled at him and then when he gave her back to me to leave she started to scream again.  She loves her daddy so much!  I can see the future now – big mush with daddy and big bitch to mommy.  Fun times ahead.  If she does that again tonight he can just go right ahead and take her to work with him and I’ll go to sleep thank you very much.
  • Homegirl loves her food, but hated pastina when I gave it to her on Monday.  I was actually offended by this.  Who the fuck hates pastina?  It’s like the nicest thing in the world.  SHE HATES ALL THE NICE THINGS.
  • We took her Christmas pictures last weekend (thanks Auntie Shay and Auntie Bri!) and we’re going to see SANTA this weekend.  I can’t believe the holiday season is upon us.  I remember last year imagining what this year would be like with her.  She’s still too young to understand anything (which is why I only bought her about four things, because she doesn’t know anything about presents) and this year is painful for us because it’s the first year without my grandpa.  Still, I love that she’s here while I decorate and wrap things and have all of her beautiful Christmas outfits ready to go.  My family Christmas party is coming up and we will have 5 babies there!  I want to bring my pack and play and just throw them all in there in their finest Christmas outfits and see what happens.  Like the baby Hunger Games, but without the death and violence.  They can just crawl over each other and drool.
  • She’s wearing 12 month clothing, some of which is too tight.  Her thighs are actually like Walt Disney World turkey legs.  They are so big.  Eric and I asked the doctor if they were too big, because we’re those parents.  But she’s totally fine and just the chunkiest little baby and I’ll have to stuff her into her pants for the time being because she doesn’t fit in 18 months.  Whoever makes baby sizes is a damn fool.  Who goes from 12 months straight to 18?  Where is 15 months?  My 9 month old needs 15 month clothes!

 

My Charlie girl, you are the biggest joy on this Earth.  I love you more with each day that passes and there is no end to that.  Every month is new adventures.  I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us, but I hope to God it includes sleeping through the night FOR GOOD eventually.

A Shoutout to my Baby Daddy

All too often I get carried away with the hustle and bustle of every day life that I forget to stop and truly appreciate my husband.  My easy going, funny, goofy, dorky husband, who has become one of the greatest dads out there.  I would not be able to be as successful at my gig as a working mom without him, and I don’t tell him often enough.

Eric works brutal hours at his job, in my opinion.  He sleeps for an average of 4 hours a stretch, and then he gets up without a single complaint and takes care of our Charlie girl.  I mean, not ONE COMPLAINT.  I don’t know how he does it 4 days a week without crying tears of exhaustion, but he does.  I would be lying on the floor screaming WHY GOD WHY CAN’T I SLEEP MORE WHYYYYY, but he just wakes up and does what he needs to do.  Charlotte’s eyes light up when she sees her daddy.  When we say, where’s dada, she looks right at him.  They spend so much time together when I’m at work and she adores him and I love watching it.  This is what partnering in marriage is all about, people.  Eric has never questioned me and always discusses everything when it comes to any parenting decision we make.  Since the day we brought her home he has supported me, whether it’s breastfeeding problems, co-sleeping, letting her cry it out or suggesting to me that we change her bottles because my breast milk was leaking all over his hands.  He knows Charlotte, like really knows her.  He doesn’t hesitate when he thinks she needs a nap or when she needs to be turned into a unicorn on his Snapchat app.  I have never, for one second, thought that he doesn’t know what he’s doing.  In the beginning I would check in because I was so afraid of being at work and not with her after months of being at home, but now?  Now I don’t ever feel the need to check in other than to say hello or ask for a picture.  I am so lucky to have him as my partner in this.

So Eric – this is to you.  I love you as my husband, I love you as Charlotte’s daddy, I love you as my friend.  I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you, but I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.  Even if you eat 100 sour patch kids and get the sugar all over the couch, or leave sesame seeds all over the kitchen (seriously, I showed you where the vacuum is 500 times), I am so thankful for you and Charlotte is so lucky to have such a fun, amazing dad.  You the best, boo.

This Is What Breastfeeding Looks Like

I came across this article on BuzzFeed today and words can’t express how much I love it.  I love it so much and I want to share it with the world.

This Is What Breastfeeding Looks Like

These are such real women.  They aren’t photographed like that fucking picture of Gisele Bundchen with her glam team getting her ready for a red carpet event that makes me seethe with anger.  99% of the world do not have a team of people doing their hair and nails as they feed their child, and the women in these photographs are so real that I can relate to on a deep level.  Their stories are wonderful.

Being able to nurse Charlotte and have such a successful breastfeeding relationship with her is one of the most powerful things I’ve ever felt in my life.  It’s hard to put into words what a connection I feel with her, knowing that I have been responsible for her chubby thighs and growing body.  I am her nourishment.  I am her food.  I am her comfort.  I have been able to solve every cry she’s ever had in her almost 9-months of life by whipping out my boob and offering it to her.

I’ve always had such a bad relationship with my boobs, as silly as that sounds.  Since I went through puberty and never got the big boobs I always wanted I was never happy with my appearance.  But now I know that I got the perfect ones just for me because they have given me the ability to have a connection with my daughter like I never thought possible.  The photos of these women brought a tear to my eye because I know how they feel.  I know what they’re doing.  I know that sometimes it’s so, so hard to nourish your child through breastfeeding, but I also know that it is also one of the most amazing things on this planet.  I am so glad I am able to do this and that I stuck with it when it was a nightmare of a beginning.

I don’t think I would be brave enough to pose for photographs like these women did, but I do have my own photos of my time nursing Charlotte from the time she was born and I know I will cherish them when she gets older and no longer needs me to feed her.

PS:  There’s boobs in the link, so if you’re an asshole and get offended by them then don’t click on it.  I probably should have written this at the top, but whatever.  They’re just boobs, so deal with it.

Mommy Can’t Have Nice Things Either

This morning I decided to take Charlotte out for a bit while the cleaning lady was in my home.  That sounds so snobby even as I type it, but honestly working full time and being a mother full time, more often than not it’s just easier to spend some extra money on someone to scrub my toilet rather than do it myself. It’s my guilty pleasure and I love it. Anyway, Charlotte started freaking out before we left the house because GOD FORBID I put a coat or socks or a hat on the child. It doesn’t matter the temperature outside she wants to be ass naked in all her glory. I got her wiggly body into the car seat and off to the store we went. I got a coffee and she was fine and then she was fine for maybe 10 seconds in the store. The whining began so I took off her coat and hat and shoes and everything else touching her skin that made her act like I enveloped her in hot lava. But no.  I had to go to the bathroom so I went into the family room hoping if she saw me sitting on the toilet peeing she’d be fine, but she screamed in there too. I got her to stop screaming by singing loudly, SOMETIMES WE HAVE TO DO PEEPEE!  Even though the entire service counter right outside could heard me. She ripped her socks off because she wasn’t naked enough in there either. Bu then she didn’t just want to be naked and out of the family bathroom, she wanted to be naked, out of the bathroom AND out of the stroller. So I picked her up and put my bag in the stroller, because isn’t that what they’re really made for?  Not to hold your darling baby, but to hold all of your other shit while YOU hold your darling baby. But Charlie girl is 20 pounds now and mama hasn’t worked out in a while and SHE IS HEAVY AND I HAVE SCIATICA. So I put her back in the stroller and then she decided to let everyone in the vicinity know just how powerful her lungs were. I swear the sounds echoed throughout all three floors. So even though I wanted new black jeans and to look at the Christmas decorations that were all 50 percent off, and even though I had coupons and really just wanted to walk around for some exercise, I decided it was better to leave empty handed than subject the poor people of Fresh Meadows to the beast. I put all of her outerwear back on, and she got louder. I got her out of the stroller and into the car seat, and she got louder. I pulled out of the spot and made it to the light on the corner and…she was quiet. I looked in the mirror and she was fucking asleep. ASLEEP WITHIN SECONDS.  So basically she just took her I HATE ALL THE NICE THINGS mantra of life and applied it to her mother. You wanted new jeans and nice decorations to bring Christmas cheer to our home? Well fuck that!  I own you!

So now I’m writing this from the car because she’s still asleep and I’m sick of driving around the neighborhood. Well played Charlotte, well played. 

A Letter of Apology 

Dear Jumpy Cow,

I’d like to take a minute to apologize to you for my daughter’s behavior. When I was pregnant with her and went to make my baby registry and saw you, I knew I had to have you. I thought how cute my little girl would look in you, jumping from the doorway.   You were going to be the best of friends.  I patiently waited until she was 4 months old like the box recommended and set you up. And then this happened. 

  
I thought maybe she was just too small, so I waited another month to reunite you. At 5 months she refused to even sit. At 6 months she sat and refused to jump. At 7 months I didn’t even try, and at 8 months she wailed again. I put you on the floor of her bedroom, hoping your cute jumpy cow face would tickle her curiosity. 

   
 Well, fuck. 

So this letter is to you, jumpy cow. I tried my hardest to unite you as friends but I think it’s time to admit defeat. I mean, why would Charlie girl want to play with you when she can scoot over to the TV unit and play with the printer? Or try open the cabinet doors and put her toys inside? Or shove my necklaces into her mouth? Why would she want a nice, safe jumpy cow when there’s so many dangerous things to explore?

I loved you jumpy cow and I promise you won’t go in the trash. You’re off to Charlotte’s cousin Jack’s house where I hope he appreciates the nice things in life. I hope you become best friends. 

Love,

Charlotte’s Mama