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Is that carrot or is that shit?

Actual conversation between me and Eric via FaceTime (thank God for video technology!)

Eric: How do you get shit out of the couch?  She shit on the couch and it’s your fault.  I blame you.

Me: How did she shit on the couch and HOW IS IT MY FAULT?

Eric: You told me to just leave her in a diaper  to help with her heat rash SO I DID THAT and I was feeding her on the couch and she shit everywhere and it’s all over me and it got on the couch and I panicked.

Me: *Lots of laughter.* Well exactly how much is on the couch?

Eric: Well I wiped it up with the towel in the bathroom and then I used the baby shampoo because I didn’t know what else to do!

Me: *More laughter.  My boss is hearing this and also laughing.  Just generally lots of laughter happening.*  Go under the sink and get the antibacterial stuff and also go under the kitchen sink and get the Lysol.

Eric then took the opportunity to show me all of the baby’s shit on his clothes and how she was just hanging out in her bouncy seat happy as a clam.

When I got home that day I inspected the couch and Eric really did a fantastic job cleaning up.  I then noticed there was a giant SOMETHING on her mamaroo and really had no idea what it was.  I texted Eric and asked him if it was carrots or shit.  “Definitely carrots.  Actually I don’t know.  I have no idea what it is.  There was shit everywhere.”  PARENTING IS SO FUN YOU GUYS.

To the Ladies with No Babies

You really don’t realize exactly just how much life is going to change after you have a baby until you actually have that baby.  It’s one of the most cliche sayings out there, that nothing will be the same after the little one arrives, but good lord is it true.  And it isn’t like you can even really figure out the things you’re going to miss most before you have the baby, because it’s really an experience that you need to be immersed in to remember what the days of pre-baby yore are really like.  Well baby-less ladies, it’s your lucky day because I’m here to give you a handy list of what to enjoy NOW before you decide to pop out your bundle of joy.

  1. If you’re able, take off all of your clothes right now and go look at your naked body in the mirror.  Look at it and remember it.  Take a mental photograph.  Take an actual photograph if you’d like, but remember that it’s 2015 and the hackers are winning and you don’t want to be all over reddit in your naked glory.  Unless you do want that, which in that case go ahead and upload your nudes you little minx.  Now, after you’re good and naked, remind yourself that your body IS NEVER GOING TO LOOK LIKE THIS EVER AGAIN.  I’m not saying it’s going to change for the worse after baby.  I’m not saying you’re going to gain 500 pounds and never lose the weight.  What I am saying is no matter how quickly you snap back into shape after baby, your body is going to be different.  Forever.  And it SHOULD be.  I mean if you GROW A HUMAN FROM SCRATCH and then have that human removed from you, wouldn’t it make sense that shit would change?  I lost all of my baby weight already (humble brag humble brag) but my body is no where near what it was like before Charlotte came out of it.  The entire shape of my body changed.  There are stretch marks to remind me of the last two weeks of growth on my hips.  There are stretch marks on my boobs.  There are probably stretch marks everywhere and I’m just mentally blocking them out.  So just remember what your body is like now, pre baby making machine.  Embrace it and love it.  And then after you have that baby embrace your body even MORE.  Every mark and every pound that’s left on you is proof of a miracle.  You’ll be even more beautiful even if you think you’re not.
  2. Go out with your boyfriend/husband/friends and get REALLY drunk.  Wake up the next morning and experience the hangover.  Experience that hangover on your couch, watching Netflix and eating bacon, egg & cheese sandwiches with nobody to bother you.  LOVE that hangover, because after you have a baby, not only will you be getting drunk like um, never, but the first month or two of your new life with your baby will be one giant fucking hangover.  And there will be no Netflix and BEC’s, there will only be diaper explosions and crying infants.
  3. Have sex.  Seriously, just go and have normal, good old fashioned sex.  Things change my friend, oh do they change.
  4. Buy nice clothes for yourself.  Wear those clothes everywhere.  Throw a statement necklace onto everything.  After the baby you won’t wear the nice clothes because a) they won’t fit for a while and b) you won’t want bodily fluids on them and the statement necklaces will need to be put away because you’ll realize they will become a full on fucking weapon if you wear them near your baby.
  5. Read books and articles that aren’t found on or the baby sleep site, because once that baby comes every single thing you read will be about the color of your child’s shit or if side sleeping will lead to SIDS.
  6. Go see all of the movies you want to see.  I’ve seen one movie in the theater since Charlotte has been alive even though I’ve wanted to see about 25.  It’s an ordeal to go to the movies now, not to mention that in NYC the ticket prices are like 5 billion dollars each (I’m estimating) so you won’t be seeing much unless your husband finds an illegal movie site online and you have enough energy to watch a movie after the baby goes to bed.  I’M NOT SAYING THIS IS HOW IT GOES IN MY HOUSE.  All hypothetical situations here.
  7. Go eat at fancy restaurants.  I can’t say that I no longer go out to eat, because I’ve been bringing Charlotte to restaurants since she was about a month old.  We go out all the time and it’s nice, but I know which places to take her to and which places to avoid.  We mostly go to diners and family friendly places now, so the fancy steakhouses are no longer in the baby routine.  Go to Peter Luger’s now before you have a child and enjoy a steak for me.  I’ve actually never been to Peter Luger’s and I have pretty much frequented diners most of my life, so I don’t know why I think I am a fancy restaurateur all of a sudden.  BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
  8. Take pictures of your food and your friends.  I used to take pictures of my food all the time.  I was your basic white girl taking photos of her waffles and pumpkin spice lattes and posting them on Instagram.  Now I am that annoying as fuck mother taking 9 million photos of her baby and posting those on Instagram.  My phone is FULL of baby pictures, usually the same one over and over and over again trying to get the perfect smile.  I had to upgrade my iCloud storage because I’m afraid to even delete any.  Once you have a baby your phone will no longer be friend and food zone it’s going to be baby central U.S.A. and you’ll be spending a million dollars in iCloud storage.
  9. Sleep.  OH MY GOD STOP READING THIS AND GO SLEEP.  I don’t care if you just woke up.  I don’t care if you’re not tired.  I don’t care if you have to go to work.  Get the fuck back in bed and close your eyes and sleep.  Sleep long, uninterrupted hours.  Even if you have a baby that sleeps through the night (fuck you.  I’m kidding.  No, I’m not.) you’ll still never sleep like you did before.  Take an ambien and sleep for three days JUST SLEEP AND ENJOY IT AND DON’T EVER TELL ME THAT YOU’RE TIRED.  And then when you have a baby come to me when you’re crying and exhausted and I will hold your hand and tell you that yes, it will get better (no it won’t) and yes, it is totally normal to google “will sleep exhaustion actually kill me” because I’ve totally googled that and yes, you will be fine.

Enjoy your lives now ladies with no babies.  Enjoy every minute of freedom.  From the minute of conception life as you know it will be over forever.  But man oh man does it get AMAZING.  You will forget what life was like before and you will never want it to be the way it was again.  I LOVE my life now more than I ever have and I am so excited for all of the things to come.  Having a baby fucking rocks.

Things My Daughter Hates

  1. All of the nice things.  All of them.  Toys, pretty clothes, hair bows, jumpy cows, exercise jumpers.  Tears shall be shed.
  2. When I don’t let her eat butt ass naked after a bath.  Not sure when she thought this would be appropriate, but our bed time routine is now consistently bath, towel, lay baby on the changing pad on the floor to begin nice and relaxing baby massage, OH WAIT IT’S TIME FOR SCREAMS OF THE DAMNED, FEED ME NOW FEED ME NAKED STOP TRYING TO PUT CLOTHES ON MEEEEEEEEEEEEE.  Real fucking relaxing.
  3. When the milk does not come out of me fast enough.  Now that she is using bottles 5 out of 7 days, sometimes the milk does not flow as quickly out of mama as it does the bottle.  This causes a dramatic melt down of epic proportions.  Kicking, moaning, screaming, squeezing of the boob.  It is ridiculous.
  4. Getting clothes on, period.  It doesn’t matter if it’s before bath time after bath time in between the bath times, no matter what if she needs clothes put on her she screams in your face.  She could be smiling and laughing her ass off at you but the second you try to put her arms through a onesie it’s game over.  I used to get really afraid when I would have to dress her (Eric straight up refused) because she would scream like we broke her arm.  Now we both tell her to shush up and laugh.
  5. Sleeping.  Not going to beat a dead horse on this one, but the child hates sleep.  Fuck naps, fuck night time sleep, she wants to be awake for all of the things.  Most of which are the nice things that she hates.

All kidding aside, I really have one of the happiest babies I have ever met.  She’s so good all (most) of the time, that if these are the things I have to deal with and laugh about, then so be it.  She’s just the best ever and I’m so glad I’m her mama.  I can’t wait to get home from work today and snuggle her up.

Letting Go of the Guilt

I am sure you’re all aware of the sleep issues I’m having with Charlotte. We are in the middle of a revolution, and Charlotte is the new world and I’m pissy old England. Charlotte is clearly winning. 

 For two nights Charlotte wasn’t feeling well and I let her sleep with me. I did this with my dog once 9 years ago. I should have known what was coming after. She obviously wanted to keep sleeping with me, so maybe I fucked up there. But then I tried cry it out on the advice of others and my baby cried so hard and got so upset that she threw up all over herself.  There is no way I can ever do that again. Maybe I’m weak but I don’t see how the two of us crying is going to help any of us sleep, especially when it leads to unnecessary vomiting.  Into my bed she came and we both slept. 

I know 90% of you are rolling your eyes so far back into your head that they may stay there. This tactic has always been on the wrong side of the parenting charts. I totally understand that too. Before we had a baby Eric and I always said NO BABIES IN OUR BED EVER. Then we had a baby and realized how fucking clueless we are.  But now I see that what works for one family may never work for another. Maybe your baby sleeps just fine in their crib for 10 hours. I applaud you, but now I realize that doesn’t necessarily mean you did something great in parenting, your baby may just be a naturally great sleeper. I’ve been putting so much pressure on myself every night to have her sleep alone and in her own room because it’s what society tells me she should be doing. But then I decided to factor in how our life is. Eric works nights and doesn’t come to bed until 2 AM. He then wakes up at 6 to be super dad for 6 hours until the sitter comes and he can take a nap before work. So every night, I’m alone with Charlotte for bed time and Eric needs to sleep as much as he can to be a functioning father. If the only way our almost 6 month old baby will be calm right now is sleeping next to her mama, why is that so bad? And why am I making myself feel like what I’m doing should be kept a secret and something to be ashamed of?  I’m not being a bad parent, I’m doing what I need to do to survive.  She will spend a couple of hours in her crib or pack and play but then when she wails she wants her mama and we just sleep better. When she sleeps with me I barely ever wake up when she eats. She just nuzzles up next to me. For half the night I’m alone in the bed anyway. I’m going to be 28 and I’m still afraid to sleep alone most nights, so I don’t know why it’s such a shock that my baby feels the same way.  This is just what works for us right now and I’m letting go of the guilt.

It’s okay if you don’t agree with my choices or call me crazy or say I’m doing it wrong. There may be something you do as a parent that I don’t agree with either. That’s just a natural part of life and healthy debate. I mean I don’t think one should wear leopard underwear under white pants, but if that’s your choice I’m not going to judge you.  I just ask that you don’t judge me as a mother and outright tell me I’m doing it wrong. I respect your opinions and advice, but don’t tear me down for letting my chubby beautiful muffin snuggle up next to me every night.   Last night I let go of the guilt and let her come in bed with me and it’s the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. We both woke up smiling and that’s something I won’t apologize for.  I don’t expect it to be this way forever. I’m going to let myself catch up on some much needed rest and then see if she’ll sleep on her own again, but removing the pressure from myself has been like taking a weight off my shoulders.  The important thing is that Eric and I are on the same page and we are. We both are on the same page when it comes to getting as much rest as we can!

As always, I thank you guys for reading and always giving me advice and being a raft when I feel like I’m drowning.  This blog has been like free mommy therapy! 

Just Reserve A Seat For Me

So today we went back to the pediatrician for the second time in two weeks. I feel like I should just write them a check for $1,000 dollars and say it’s for all future copay’s since I’m coming every week now. Last week we took her because I noticed her right leg is bigger than her left leg. INSANE I KNOW. I still don’t have any answers on that but nobody seems to concerned so Charlotte can live with her extra chunky thigh on one side. This is probably why the child has yet to roll. 

We were back at the doctor today after a horrendous night of sleep that involved lots of crying because of a stuffy nose but then I saw a rash all over the child’s body. Nothing freaks me out faster than a rash. She had it on her back and her chest and I already had her diagnosed with legionnaire’s disease and spending her life in a plastic bubble. It turns out she’s sweaty and got heat rash. 

So I rushed to the doctor for a chubby leg and a sweaty baby.  Just take all my money now doctor, the crazy train has just begun. 

This One Goes Out to the Pregnant Ladies

I can honestly say I loved being pregnant.  I had a very easy pregnancy with the usual pregnancy complaints that are unavoidable, with a few bouts of terrible sciatica, but for the most part it was great.  I loved feeling the baby move, I loved watching how my body transformed and I loved growing another human life.  I know this may not be the case for everyone, but I urge all you preggos out there: love your pregnancy now.  Love everything that comes with it, because once that baby comes nobody is going to give one single fuck about you.  Rub your belly in public, get a seat on the subway EVERY SINGLE TIME, eat ALL OF THE THINGS.  Seriously, I cannot stress this enough.  If you plan on nursing there is a chance your baby will not be able to handle anything dairy like my baby.  This can happen to you.  TAKE BALLS OF MOZZ TO THE FACE NOW WHILE YOU STILL CAN.  Eat sticks of butter.  Put butter on your butter.  Eat all of the baked goods that fit into your body.  When you feel like you can’t take another bite, lay down for 10 minutes and try again.  DO THIS.

Don’t worry about pregnancy weight gain.  Those pounds will come off eventually, and you will be too tired to even give a shit in the beginning.  You are growing a human for fucks sake.  You need to gain weight.  Gain whatever and worry about it later.

Let everyone pamper you.  Seriously, play up your pregnancy to the 10th degree.  ESPECIALLY if this is your first pregnancy.  When it’s your second nobody is going to care because you already have a child and they’ve already seen you pregnant.  Go for prenatal massages as often as you can.  Let people open doors for you.  Let people bask in the glory that is your pregnant form.  You are a goddess.  A beautiful, round goddess who I hope is eating cheese as you read this.  Remember, BALLS OF MOZZ, TO THE FACE.

You do you, pregnant girls.  Enjoy it all now.  We can’t wait until you pop the little ones out and join us on the crazy train.

Three High School Students Walk Into a Bar…

I work for a federal judge in a courthouse, which means I work in private chambers and also have access to the courtroom assigned to my judge. Because of this sweet gig, I am able to use the jury room of our courtroom (unless we are on trial, in which case I use a closet off the robing room, or my judges office because she is awesome) to pump. The jury room is sweet because it is equipped with two bathrooms, a large conference table and a fridge. I keep the milk sucking machine set up at all times to cut down on time each time I need to subject myself to that fucking thing. It’s private and sanitary and as wonderful as pumping can be. 

That is, it was, until I failed to realize the door the jurors use to enter the courtroom was unlocked and three high school students walked in on me mid pump. 

You see, a college group was using the courtroom to perform mock trials. I had completely forgotten this was taking place, but I never thought anyone would be going into the jury room. I put on my pumping bra, stuck the machine to my boobs and relaxed as the familiar woosha woosha sounds came on. Five minutes passed and I hear the door handle jiggle. Then I see the door open. And then three girls walk in and GAPE AT ME while I ask them to EXIT THE DOOR IN WHICH THEY CAME. I am not joking when I say these girls stared at me like they not only didn’t speak English but also never met another human life form on earth. Straight up mouths agape and frozen bodies staring.  Then, when I finally get them to leave they leave the door open! And it isn’t like I can get up because I’m strapped to the machine!  The machine that is still MILKING ME. Someone finally closed the door and I learned to lock it forever. 

If turns out the college professor got a group of high school kids to play the jury for their mock trial. They were instructed to go to the jury room as part of the trial and were surprised to find me. These poor kids. Not only did they have to spend part of their summer vacation playing jury, but then they get assaulted by a strangers boobs literally being sucked in to a tube. I probably would have frozen up and stared too. 

Thank goodness they weren’t boys. Lesson learned, lock the damn door when your breasts are out. 

The Blame Game

Ever since Charlotte decided to go all Guantanamo on me and inflict extreme sleep deprivation, I have found myself playing the blame game.  There has to be some reason as to why this child refuses to sleep for at least six hours (who am I kidding, at least five hours would be sufficient at this point.  Fuck it, I’ll even take four and a half) and then I can just blame all the sleep problems on that reason.  First I thought she was too hot, so I bought an evaporative air cooler, put both AC’s on in my house at all times (hello million dollar electric bill) and dressed her differently.  Now she just wakes up with cold hands.  Then I thought maybe it’s because she is just trying desperately to roll over, and whenever babies learn a new skill it fucks with their sleeping habits.  She is now turning on her side every fucking night but not rolling over for shit and still waking up.  Then I’m wondering, perhaps it’s because I have gone back to work, and she misses me so much during the day that she wants to nurse all night.  I mean maybe this is true?  Maybe this is why she eats like she is practicing to become a competitive eater and take out Joey Chestnut at the Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest 18 years from now?  Or is it because my milk supply has dropped?  How would I even KNOW THIS?!  The oatmeal isn’t doing SHIT except just giving me one more fucking task to do and one more bowl to wash.  “The oatmeal will help her sleep.  It will fill her up.”  Everyone who said this to me I’m really just waiting for your pants to catch on fire because you LIED.  Now I’m seeing online that the introduction of solids can effect their sleep in a negative way.  Google is the god damn enemy.  Google also told me that if my baby is having separation anxiety that having something with my smell on it or my milk on it will help her settle herself back to sleep.  So I’m obviously going home tonight and spraying my boobs ALL OVER her fucking crib sheet.

Maybe she is turning into a vampire baby because she’s getting a tooth.  She has enough drool to fill up an Olympic sized swimming pool, shoves everything into her mouth that she can, including my jaw and chin last night, and just generally seems uncomfortable.  That is the excuse I’m going for today.  If I don’t have something to blame, then I will really lose my mind.

In the words of the great songstress Pink, “Just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough.”  Listen to Pink, Charlotte.  Give your mother a reason.

A Night with Charlotte

Just because I know you’re all jealous of the bags under my eyes, I’m going to give you some insight into how I’ve gotten them.  They’re the latest fashion craze.

6:15:  Charlotte gets overly dramatic for no reason at all.  She is screaming and crying just because.  Gets a bath to calm her crazy ass down.

6:45:  Has some milk.  Passes out mid-feed.  I know this is too early for her to sleep, but I put her to bed anyway.  Spend 2 hours doing my own thing and get ready for bed, prepared to wake up at any moment by the little tyrant in the room next door.

9:45:  Wake up to screaming.  Someone is hungry again or just does not want to be left alone.  I bring her to my room to eat some more and put her down in the pack and play next to me because I am so over making the trek to her room 3 times a night and no matter what I do the child still wakes up to eat.  She passes out again, as do I.

11:00:  Hello mother.  You fell asleep again.  Let me sing you the song of my people.  That song is nonstop wailing until you take me out of this fucking pack and play prison you have put me in.  And now that you have pissed me off I’m going to demand food again.  I will not rest until I have what I want.

11:20:  The tyrant finally goes back to sleep.  Spends the next 3 hours moving around nonstop so I can’t even sleep.  Why did I bring her back into my room again?  Why is this my life?  WHY WON’T SHE SLEEP LIKE A BABY SHOULD.

2:45:  Hello again mother.  I see you’ve noticed your bedroom AC is no longer working.  Maybe that is why I woke up once more.  Or maybe I woke up because I just peed ALL OVER THE PLACE.  Get out of bed and change me.  This is how I roll.

3:00:  I’ve given up.  Eric is on the couch sleeping where it is cooler, Charlotte is in bed with me having a conversation with the ghost that I think lives in my home.  I’ve accepted this is my life now.

3:15:  Silence.  The tyrant sleeps.  Good thing I can close my eyes and rest for only two more fucking hours or so before I have to get up again and go to work and be a productive member of society.

6:40:  Have fun at work mother.  I’ll just stay here in the middle of your bed and cuddle with daddy.

I am this close to losing my mind.  Mostly because she slept at my mom’s house on Saturday night and only woke up ONE FUCKING TIME so I know she is completely capable of sleeping.  She’s going to go live there if she keeps this shit up.  I’m waving the white flag Charlotte.  I SURRENDER, I SURRENDER.

You Know the Phrase, Opinions are like Assholes?

As of today (Google searching never disappoints) there are 1.19 BILLION monthly active users on Facebook.  Facebook has become a wonderful outlet for family and friends to connect all over the globe.  You can video chat, send pictures, share information and even send money (although I wonder who is doing that…).  You know what else you can do on Facebook?  You can judge the shit out of other people.  You can judge them and shame them all from the comforts of your own home.  I won’t lie and be a hypocrite, I’ve done it.  Just the other day I shamed the shit out of that Minnesota dentist who killed Cecil the lion.  I don’t know anything about his life, his family, his hunting practices, but I shamed him and I judged him nonetheless.  But what I’ve really come to realize is that the worst offenders are mothers judging other mothers.  There is a constant barrage of statuses and tweets and instagrams of mothers judging other mothers choices and decisions.  And you know what?  I think it’s time we put an end to it. News flash – I am not the greatest mother in the world.  And neither are you.  There isn’t a single person out there who is the perfect mother, even if you think are you.  I have made mistakes (and Lord knows will continue to make mistakes), you have made mistakes, and that’s FINE.  Mothering is just like any other aspect of our lives.  We fuck up, learn a lesson and try again.  Yes, there are truly awful mothers out there.  Mothers who do terrible things to their children and should be punished for their crimes.  But in today’s day and age when the social media brigade engages faster than the actual news story, I find that women are using this as an opportunity to say how they would never do this or never do that.  What is that saying?  People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.  Unless you have a crystal ball and a knack for seeing the future (and if you do, come be my friend and help me win the lottery) then how the fuck do you know what choices you’re going to make down the road?  How do you know that something won’t happen to you later on in life for which you and your children are on the news?  I pray nothing ever happens, but the point is YOU. DON’T. KNOW.  And I think that if something did happen to you, the last thing you would want is to see 500 mothers on social media blasting you for being a horrible mother, because that doesn’t fucking help anyone. My point is, stop being so quick to judge.  You literally have no idea what it is to walk in someone else’s shoes.  You have no idea why they made the choices they made or what has led them to do what you deem to be horrible.  Perhaps the mother who did the unspeakable act which you would never do did so because she was an all around shitty ass person, or perhaps she did it because she is sleep deprived or dealing with family issues or aliens have invaded her body and are planning to take over the world.  No matter what though, you don’t know the reason, and perhaps you never will.  But I think the world would be a little bit of a better place if we stopped attacking each other all the fucking time.  At least I know I’m going to try.