Never Cook on a Saturday Night

Valentine's Day

2012-02-14T21:07:00.000-08:00

I'm in the cliched group that dislikes Valentine's Day. My icy cold heart isn't one for romance. I find the whole thing cheesy and there is always a great potential for build up and disappointment. Plus my whole inability to effectively express my feelings.

Anyways, today was the most simple and most wonderful of all my Valentine's Days.

First, there was this happy little baby. His shirt says "mama's boy." I will be explaining to future girlfriends (or boyfriends) that he is most definitely a mama's boy and no one can compete with the mama.

Then there was the greatest daycare drop-off in the history of drop-offs. One of Leo's teachers went on and on about how much weight I've lost. I haven't lost any weight in a long time but whatever, I'll take the compliment. Then when I took Leo to his classroom, he sat down at the little table, started coloring, gave me a kiss, and happily waved "hi" to his little friend. It was so peaceful and sweet. I wish every morning was like that.

I had a relatively productive morning at work. I was out of the office all morning, when I returned in the afternoon I had these flowers waiting for me from the husband. They are the same roses we had in our wedding.

Husband got home for work early and we gave Leo his present.

He is so obsessed with "fooball" right now! Needles to say, he loved it. I made him take notice of the card. Remember how your mom always made sure you read the card before you got to the present?

We made homemade pizza for dinner. By homemade I mean the pizza crust came from a Pillsbury tube. It was all just so nice and simple. Just nice, simple family time.

Staying Home

2012-02-13T20:34:00.000-08:00

I had the day off today because of Lincoln's birthday. I love being a public employee and our random paid holidays. My husband had to work so I spent the day pretending I was a stay at home mom. By 10am I was exhausted and sick of the whining. It ended up being a fun day and a nice little glimpse into life on the other side. I figured it out and with vacation, holidays, and weekends, I am "at home" 40% of the year. I like to think I have the best of both worlds.

We did some Valentine's Day art. Leo only ate a little bit of paint so I consider that a win.

We went out to breakfast with my sister.

I made the mistake of giving Leo a little bit of whipped cream from her hot chocolate. He spent the rest of the meal trying to climb out of his highchair to attack her hot chocolate with a fork like some kind of rabid monkey with a sweet tooth.

Then I hosted a little playdate at my house. There were three toddlers, five ladies, wine, cupcakes, cookies, and lots of catching up. I tried to make hot pink chocolate chip cookies but they came out this really weird pinky-brown color. My little pretzel, hershey kiss, m and m's things turned out really good though. Leo furiously signed "more" for my cookies. I'll take my toddler's approval any day.

Two of the moms at the playdate are stay at home moms. There was some interesting discussion about staying home v. working outside of the home. I think the consensus was that working part time is ideal because you get to use your brain and spend time with your child. That being said, no one has actually been able to find worthwhile part time work.

After the playdate it was time to make dinner. Leo helped me crush corn flakes for corn flake crusted chicken

And he helped me shake up the sweet potato fries to season them. When I make dinner after work I always have the meal on the table by 6:30 pm. By the time my husband gets home, everything is ready. Today, dinner wasn't ready until 7:10 pm. I'm not sure what happened. I kind of lost track of time. Clearly, I'm not a very good stay at home mom.

While waiting for dinner to cook we played golf, read books, and did a puzzle. All day long Leo had been saying "football, football" over and over so I put on a DVRed Michigan game. Husband was pretty surprised to walk in through the door and see the Sugar Bowl on.

After a very late dinner and a very quick bath, I had the husband put Leo to bed. I was simply physically exhausted, even my joints ached. I'm actually looking forward to setting at my desk tomorrow!

Tag!

2012-02-12T12:34:00.001-08:00

I love these kinds of things, lists and questions, and talking all about me! I kinda love to talk about myself. Hello I'm a lawyer and I have this blog, I clearly think I am very important. Much thanks to Alicia for giving me the opportunity.

First the rules:

1. Post these rules

2. You must post 11 random things about yourself

3. Answer the questions set for you in the post you were tagged in 4. Create 11 new questions for your tagees to answer

5. Tag them on Twitter, Facebook or your blog.

Now the random facts:

1. In junior high, I was a competitive tap dancer. There were a lot of dance moms, sequins, and fighting over earrings.

2. When I was going into my freshman year of high school I tried out for/ran for the cheer team, the dance team, volleyball, and student council. I didn't make it on to anything. I credit this experience for my inspiring my ability to pick myself up and try again. The next year I made the dance team, the tennis team (with lots of practice!) and newspaper.

3. I was almost kicked out of my sorority for partying too much. When I rushed I had just come out of a long relationship and embraced my new freedom just a little too much.

4. In law school I earned the highest grade in my evidence and sales classes. I also earned such a high grade in federal income tax that I was asked to be a tutor. I can't even do my own taxes now.

5. The summer before my senior year in high school I went to Rome with my church for Catholic World Youth Day. I saw the Pope in the Pope Mobile.

6. I almost went to fashion school to become a buyer. I was accepted to FIDM and then decided to apply to law school.

7. I worked retail all throughout college. When the store wouldn't give me time off to go home for the holidays I would quit and get a new job after the break. I worked at Express, Zales, Rampage, and Cache.

8. I used to listen to a lot of heavy rock music. I've seen Korn in concert twice, Stone Temple Pilots twice, Disturbed twice, and Rob Zombie. I've been to two Ozzfests and I have taken off my dangly earrings to go into the mosh pit.

9. I love Miracle Whip. I hate mayonnaise.

10. I was a vegetarian for two years.

11. I love steak. I once told a cow, "I want to eat you."

Now the eleven questions:

1. Did you have an imaginary friend? What was his/her name? - No imaginary friend but I had a giant stuffed dog that I used to pretend could play Go Fish.

2. I’m interviewing you for your dream job- how do you get me to hire you? - I tell you about my experience, my ability to problem solve, and rattle off some case law to be impressive.

3. Is there a song that makes you want to cry every time you hear it? - Jesus Take the Wheel by Carrie Underwood.

4. What is one personality trait of your partner’s that you wish you had? - The ability to be frugal with money. I just love to buy stuff.

5. Go-to website for sure-fire hilarity? - The Oatmeal or, when I need a pick-me-up, Cute Overload.

6. What’s your favourite childhood memory of a grandparent? - Sleepovers with staying up late to watch movies and big breakfasts in the morning. And they always, always had miniature snickers and butterfingers in the fridge.

7. You see a mom at the playground. She’s on her phone while her mouthy kid stuffs sand down his pants and smushes his chewed gum in her purse. What do you tweet about her? - Get off your damn phone and deal with your damn kid.

8. Describe a moment in the very recent past you wanted to give a self-high-five. - I was taking a shower and Leo walked into the bathroom and walked out with the trash can. I told him to put it back and he actually did!

9. How long does it take to get from your house to Windsor, Ontario? - I had to ask my husband where this even was! He says a flight would take four and a half hours.

10. Do you remember what you wanted to name your kid when you were younger? Boy name and girl name. - I wanted to name my girl Britney. I no longer want this. I didn't even contemplate having a boy.

11. If you could only dip your vegetables in one thing for the rest of your life, what would you choose? - Curry yogurt dip.

And the tags:

Tag! You're it! Please don't feel obligated to participate and answer all these questions. It is a tad time consuming. This isn't a chain letter. But I like all of you and would love to hear more about you! (And Rogue get on twitter for heaven's sakes.)

Rogue Woman - The Rogue Woman

Natalie - Growing Up a New Jersey Wife & Mom

Misty - The Family Math

Ginger - Ramble Ramble

And finally, my eleven questions:

1. What was your favorite band in high school?
2. What is your favorite snack (healthy or not)?
3. Which literary world would you like most like to live in? (I have to answer this, I would choose Hogwarts and the wizarding world).
4. What song gets you pumped up?
5. You are stranded on an island, you have the ability to either watch unlimited movies or read unlimited books. Which do you choose?
6. What was your "first dance" song at your wedding?
7. Which troubled celebrity would you like to give advice to and what would your advice be?
8. Why is your best friend your best friend?
9. If you were going to a fancy awards show, what color would your dress be?
10. Money is not an object, do you buy a ridiculously expensive purse or shoes?
11. Goldfish or cheezits?

Friday Brain Dump

2012-02-10T21:36:00.000-08:00

- Today I was all out of clean, black tights. My choices were to wear black thigh-highs or black maternity leggings. Basically, risk looking like the office slut v. waddling around like a penguin because the legging's crotch was between my knees. I went with the leggings. They complimented my granny panties nicely.

- I find it hilarious that Leo falls asleep clutching a football. I find it equally hilarious when he runs around the house with my hot pink Coach purse. He's well rounded.

- I am so excited for the 9th Circuit ruling overturning Prop 8! I want to read the decision but I heard its like 100 pages long and it is probably full of boring con law stuff. I actually hope this goes up to the Supreme Court so we can get some finality on the issue and some equality in this country. I'm really hoping that this will be our Loving v. Virginia (where the Supreme Court struck down bans against inter-racial marriage).

- Leo has been wanting to read his First 100 Words book all week. We read this damn book every night. I hate it. But he loves it. I offer a million other suggestions and he just says "noooo" in his little voice and I die of the cute and then read the stupid book.

- Today at work I was talking with a couple of ladies about little babies and such. I mentioned the new little ones at Leo's daycare (6 and 8 weeks old!) My point was to say how cute they were but then one lady said "oh, that's so sad." I wanted to scream, "bitch there is nothing sad about parents sending their baby to a wonderful daycare with loving and attentive teachers while they go out and earn a living in order to provide a nice life for their baby!!!!" Then she went on about how she stayed at home when here kids were little and how it was so great. My working mama blood was starting to boil when she started talking about her (now adult) daughter has down's syndrome. Then I felt like a big asshole and was very glad that not all the thoughts in my head make it out of my mouth. I also realized I may have had too much coffee.

- My husband criticized my use of commas in my blog writing. I called him a fat asshole.

The Planning of Meals

2012-02-07T20:38:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to write about something that is very near and dear to my heart....meal planning. As a working mom, meal planning is essential to my sanity. I didn't worry about it that much when Leo was still on the boob (we ate a lot of Stouffer's lasagna, delicious but oh so sodium laden). Now that Leo eats with us, I want to make sure that I'm putting somewhat healthy, home cooked food on the table.

My goals with meal planning are simple: to only grocery shop once a week and to eat at home 5-6 nights a week.

My routine starts Saturday morning. Leo and I eat breakfast (the husband is always still asleep)and I pull out my cook books and check my pinterest boards. I pick out 2-3 recipes. I look for ones that are somewhat easy, will make enough for leftovers, and contain ingredients that both my boys will eat.

Then I map out my meals using my handy momagenda planner (which OMG I love and no one gave me anything to say that).

After breakfast we head to the grocery store. I let Leo hold differnt items (he likes to shake the boxes of pasta) and listen to the old ladies coo over how cute he is. I primarily shop at Trader Joe's because it is so much cheaper than the regular grocery store.

This week I picked out three recipes:

The Pioneer Woman's cajun chicken pasta,

Skillet gnocchi with chard (I use spinach),

and Skinny Taste's crock pot taco chicken chili.

The only way I can pull off all this cooking is to do the majority of the prep work the night before. Leo and I get home around 5:45 or 6 pm. My goal is to have dinner ready by 6:30. My husband gets home around 7, so I need to be able to cook and entertain the toddler at the same time. Which ain't easy.

Here's my meal planning for this week:

Sunday: we ate dinner with friends for the Super Bowl so no cooking. I prepped my cajun chicken pasta that night by chopping all the veggies and marinating the chicken. I actually used taco seasoning instead of cajun seasoning because I thought that would be too spicy for Leo. Usually on Sundays I like to make a crock pot meal or a casserole (like a lasagna) for dinner and leftovers.

Monday: I cooked the cajun/taco chicken pasta which I was able to do in about 20 minutes. We ate that for dinner plus some leftover pulled pork from Super Bowl (I couldn't help it, the pork was delicious). I took pasta leftovers for lunch on Tuesday.

Tuesday: We ate leftover chicken pasta plus Chinese food. Husband drove past the new Chinese takeout place on his way home; it was so empty that he felt bad and stopped in to pick up a combo plate. I have since instructed him that we do not need to be eating pity food. We do not have calories to spare!

Wednesday: I will cook the gnocchi and that will be dinner. That recipe is seriously so easy. It is even easier if you just use jarred marinara instead of making the sauce. I'll take the gnocchi for lunch on Thursday. I'll also throw the crock pot taco chicken chili together and cook that. I'm going to half the recipe because it makes so much and we never eat all of it so it should cook in about 3-4 hours on high.

Thursday: We'll have taco chicken chili with whole wheat tortillas. I might try making my own Mexican rice but it was so awful last time I'm not sure.

Friday: Leftovers! Sometimes we go out to eat on Fridays. If we do, leftovers will become weekend lunches.

Saturday: Check the blog title. I really do not cook on Saturday nights. I'll start the whole meal planning process again.

So that's basically how I try to manage working full time and doing a fair amount of cooking. I've got my tricks for keeping Leo occupied while I cook. There are certain drawers and cabinets in the kitchen that have stuff that he can play with. I'll give him some bowls and spoons which will keep him pretty happy. Or I let him stack all my canned goods. Sometimes, and I mean sometimes, he even actually plays with all the toys he has. I'd love to hear any more meal planning tricks as this is definitely a work in progress!

Writing

2012-02-06T20:54:00.000-08:00

Writing has been important to me for a long time.

In the fourth grade I was in a writing club. We met before school and learned about writing characters and plots. I wrote a little book about a girl named Kelly who had a stutter. She wanted to run for class office but was too embarrassed to give a speech because of her stutter. When she realized that she didn't stutter when she sang, she ran for office, gave her speech, and won. At the time I was in my fourth year of speech therapy for articulation problems. I still get really nervous when I speak in front of speech and language pathologists (which is all the freaking time since I work in special education).

All throughout elementary school I kept a journal. I was paranoid that it would be read so I used code names. I addressed each entry to "Anne." I was inspired by Anne Frank writing to Kitty and my Anne was the one of Green Gables.

In junior high I was in the poetry club. My best friend was with me, we would meet after school, read our poetry, and snap our fingers. I was full of flowery words, angst, and it just felt good to put pen to paper (we didn't have a computer yet).

In high school I was on the school newspaper for three years. I was a writer, sports editor (what?), and the entertainment editor. I worked for hours and hours on that paper and loved it. Even when I accidentally pasted the columns of my story in the wrong order (we did all of our layouts by hand, like old fashioned bosses).

In college I wanted to go out for the newspaper but I was too nervous. I did a small amount of writing for the college arts paper but eventually that fell way to a sorority, work, and partying. I wrote numerous papers for my English major. Some written the morning of, through the haze of last night's alcohol. Some with truly in depth thought. I journaled some of my college exploits but was later so embarrassed by them that I burned that small book in my parents' backyard firepit. I stopped writing for pleasure.

In law school I struggled with writing. There was no time to even consider writing for fun. I struggled to adapt my flowery prose to the strictness of legal writing. I was reprimanded constantly for "using too many words," and for my writing lacking consistency. Yet somehow I became a successful lawyer and even my crappy 1L writing is way better than some of the junk that opposing counsel sends me.

On July 11, 2009 I started this little blog. I wrote about food, my husband, my struggle with weight loss, my dogs, my sister. Now I write about many of the same things with the very noted addition of my son. I am writing for pleasure again. Sometimes the writing is painful as I force myself to look inside. No matter what, I always feel better after I hit publish. I don't track my stats. I'm not trying to make it in the blogging world. I write for me. To feel that release. And it feels good.

Girl Talk - No Husbands Allowed

2012-02-02T21:34:00.000-08:00

Warning: this post is going to be filled with girlie talk. Periods, cramps, shoving an almost 9 pound baby out of your va-jay-jay. So Husband stop reading right now.

I mean it. Just stop reading. It is for your own good.

Is he gone?

Ok good, cause I really want to talk about the make-up I bought at Nordstrom's today.

On my lunch break today, I ran over to Nordstrom's to return a purse that I bought online (I don't know why I keep buying purses online, they arrive, and they are always a totally different size than I imagined, I'm bad with spatial relations). I returned the purse and started wandering the store. I had a $20 gift card and I thought I could pick up something very small and fun. Maybe some little earrings from Brass Plum or something. I couldn't find anything so I started to head out. I ended up walking through the make-up section.

I looked at some little bottles of lotion and decided to just hang on to my gift card. Then I saw him. Standing at the Lancome counter in his slim cut suit, skinny tie, and a newsboy cap. He was eyeing me like a female lion eyeing a gazelle. A sales girl approached me and asked if I wanted help. I said I was just looking and she walked away. Ok, I avoided one salesperson. I just needed to make it past the skinny guy.

I started to walk past the Lancome counter. "Hi Love," he called out in a lilting lisp, "can I help you find anything?" I replied, thank you, but I was just looking and continued to look at some eye shadow at a different counter. I should have just kept walking to the door.

"Just let me know if you need any help love, my name is Randall," he chirped. Be strong, I thought, look at the eye shadow and walk away. Somehow I ended up looking at the Lancome eye shadow. "Aren't our eyeshadows just beautiful! They are so saturated in color!" He was so excited about the eye shadow. The eyeshadows were pretty and I did need some new make-up. He was sucking me in.

"Look at this color, it's gorgeous!" He started rubbing a peacock blue shadow on his hand. Ok, he was losing me. I was dressed in a very sensible sheath dress and cardigan. I clearly did not wear blue eye shadow. Then he pointed to a more neutral color palette. "Oh love, these colors will make your eyes pop! It will be so pretty and with this eye shadow base, your eye will be instantly brightened! Ok Randall, I'm listening.

Then he went on and on about my blue eyes. And how the eye shadow base covered up fine lines, not that I needed to worry about that. And how the eye shadow can easily go from day to night. Mother effer, he totally sucked me in. I didn't even look at the price. I just handed him my $20 gift card, hoping that made a dent in the price. Sixty dollars later, I was the proud new owner of a very expensive eye shadow palette and base.

In my defense, it is pretty eye shadow.

And it did come with this handy guide. I'm so make-up challenged I might just tape this on my mirror.

Next time I will just sprint for the door before anyone calls me "Love," and comments on my eyes. Damn you Randall, damn you.

A Plan

2012-02-01T20:37:00.000-08:00

The other night I opened my icy heart a wee bit and started to talk about the place I've been in. I was nervous to publish it, I didn't even tell my husband I had posted until the next day. But the mere act of expressing my feelings along with the very lovely support I received made me feel so much better.

So let's keep that train rolling. You know, with the feelings and whatnot. My husband always asks me, "what will make you happy?" And I always whine, "I don't know." It occurred to me that I can't answer that question because I don't really have a grasp of what makes me sad. In special education when a student has behaviors that interfere with their education, a behavior support plan will be developed. A plan to identify the antecedents/triggers to the behavior and replacement behaviors. Well, being sad is interfering with my life so I need a little plan of my own. My first step is to try to identify my "triggers" that just send me into a pit or make me want to stab kittens.

In no particular order, here are the things that set me off (so to speak). Some may be profound, some may be silly, but all seem to have some kind of impact.

1. A rough drop-off at daycare.

A surefire way to destroy my day is for me to drop Leo off at daycare and see those little arms reach for me amidst his tears. It rips me apart. Even though I know he'll calm down and spend the day playing and learning. He's been having a great time at daycare lately and has even started a little gymnastics/music class.

These are cell phone pictures of the pictures printed by daycare, so kinda crappy.

2. Slow days at work.

When work is slow or I've been sitting at my desk for too long I freaking lose my lawyer shit. I have to be busy at work to be happy. I don't know why. Maybe to feel validated? Or like my work is important? I was like this before Leo so it isn't a working mom thing. When work is slow, I lose my concentration and motivation. Then I end up staring at pinterest and looking for pictures of Neville Longbottom to send to my sister.

3. When my husband doesn't like the food I cook.

I don't know why this bothers me so much. I don't seek this much approval from him in any other aspect of life but if he doesn't like dinner I turn into a pouty mess. Maybe it is because I spend a lot of time meal planning and such. Whatever the reason, this has gotten really annoying. He's become afraid to say anything about my cooking so much so that the other night when I completely failed at making homemade Mexican rice, he ate an entire plateful of it. Bite after crunchy, awful bite.

4. Eating junk food/not exercising.

This one is so obvious, when I'm not treating my body right, I feel like crap. Eating junk food makes me feel sluggish, bloated, and guilty that I ate the junk food in the first place. Then I get a poor self image and feel bad so I eat more junk food. A vicious, chubby cycle. One that needs to stop.

5. Snarky comments about working moms.

Whenever I get a "when is your husband going to let you stay home," or "you should save your money so you can stay home with your baby," (both have actually been said to me) I spiral into a hole of self-doubt about the choices I have made for my family. The same thing happens when I read articles/blogs/comments about how women need to be home with their children or else they will become ax murderers.

6. Family crap.

This is the big one that I'm not ready to talk about, but anytime I'm reminded of my disintegrating relationship with my parents I pretty much shut down.

There are many more things that happen in my life that cause me to shut down but, for right now, these are the ones that I can think of. My next step is to think of ways to positively react to these "triggers" instead of letting them get to me.

A Place

2012-01-30T20:27:00.000-08:00

I've been in a place.

Not a really bad place. Not a dark and twisty place. But not a good place either. It has been more of a melancholy place. A gentle hum of sadness with occasional spurts of happiness.

I need more than an occasional spurt of happiness.

There's been a whole lot of "why does everyone have it easier than me?" And a whole lot of, "If only I didn't have this commute/had a bigger house/bought new clothes/got my freaking roots highlighted I would be happy."

There has been an onslaught of "I miss Leo" and working mama guilt.

I didn't weather the holidays well and the complicated mess of my family has taken its toll on me. Over Christmas break, I had an amazing vacation in Hawaii with Leo and the husband and came home to work piled up and my family being sick for practically the whole month of January.

I'm over this place. I'm just not sure how to get out of it.

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T23:34:00.000-08:00

I just made macaroni n cheese, from scratch, with well over a pound of cheese and bacon. I also made banana bread. Thanksgiving is the food olympics and I'm bringing my A game.

In all truthfulness, I have a lot to be thankful for this year. My family, my friends, my career, my home, my bulldogs. I often complain, whine, moan "why does everyone have an easier life than me???" But right now, I'm recognizing the reality which is that I am very blessed and thankful for all of it.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving!

ABC Easy As 123

2011-11-22T21:06:00.000-08:00

So I'm failing miserably at NaBloPoMo but I was feeling rather uninspired and very, very sleepy. Luckily I found a blog idea to steal!

A. Age: 31, about to be 32 in March. I can't even deal with how old that sounds.

B. Bed size: We finally got a king size bed about a year ago. Except that we got an Eastern King and we live in California where the California King reigns supreme so it is fucking impossible to find sheets that fit. And somehow my toddler takes up my whole damn bed.

C. Chore that you hate: I can't think of one. This is sick. I love my house being clean. Ok, I got it. I really, really hate picking up the dog poop.

D. Dogs: Frank and Mickey! Combined they are about 100 pounds of purebred English Bulldog. We love our fur babies so much even when they snore and fart (which is a lot).

E. Essential start to your day: Shower. I cannot shower the night before. If I do, I still have to shower in the morning.

F. Favorite color: Red. It used to be pink but I am a grown woman now.

G. Gold or Silver: White gold but sometimes I really like traditional yellow gold.

H. Height: 5'4, a little too tall for petite but too short for regular clothes. Shopping is fun.

I. Instruments you play: I have no musical talent at all. I used to lip sync in my junior high choir.

J. Job title: Deputy general counsel thankyouverymuch. That's just a fancy way to say lawyer.

K. Kids: Leo! 26 pounds of pure mischief. He is an evil baby genius and adorable.

L. Live: The OC. I am NOT a real housewife. Although I have shopped where they do.

M. Mother’s name: Debbie, Deborah, Crazy.

N. Nicknames: I have never had a cool nickname. Some people call me Court. Weird thing, my husband rarely calls me by my full name. It is usually Court, Babe or Baby. If he actually says Courtney I know he's annoyed with me. I had a boyfriend once that called me Lovey. It made me want to barf every. single. time.

O. Overnight hospital stays: Just for my Leo. It was really creepy. I am not a fan of overnight hospital stays.

P. Pet peeves: Sniffing, spitting, people eating cereal or anything crunchy near me, the t.v. being too loud...I kinda have issues.

Q. Quote from a movie: "Bearfucker! Do you need assistance?" That was the first one that popped into my head.

R. Right or left handed: Right.

S. Siblings: An awesome sister and a brother, both younger.

T. Hey there is no T! I'll make one up. Ummmm, transit. Ok Transit: my mom-mobile, a Hyundai Santa Fe.

U. Underwear: Always. Even while sleeping. My husband thinks I'm weird.

V. Vegetable you hate: Green mother fucking peppers. They taste like evil.

W. What makes you run late: I am rarely late. I'm even more on time since having a baby because I'm so paranoid about being late.

X. X-Rays you’ve had: My ankle when I was 10. I was in a hit and run car accident on the way to girl scout camp.

Y. Yummy food that you make: Lasagna and mac 'n cheese.

Z. Zoo animal: Polar bears. I love them so much.

Stepping Out Saturday Deja Vu

2011-11-19T22:52:00.000-08:00

This Saturday my little family had plans to go to the mall, get the husband some new clothes, eat dinner, and visit Santa. I had a cute outfit all planned so I thought I would link up with Stepping Out Saturday (for those that don't know, it is a blog link up where you highlight your Saturday outfit).

I had my husband take a picture of me in my outfit (which he said made me look like an "Occupy Wall Street-er".) Whatever, I thought it was cute. Then it hit me.

Sweater - Target. Dress - H & M. Boots - Old Navy

The one other time I did this link up, I was wearing the same fucking dress. Fail. Anyways you can see how I took my dress from summer to fall. Which was totally my point. And I totally own more than one dress.

Ugh my legs were pasty even in the middle of the summer. So we took Leo to get his picture with Santa. I know it's early but with working full time I can only do these types of things on the weekends and my December weekends are already booked. Plus the line was super short.

Leo looked totally unsure of Santa but this Santa was such a sweetheart. He saw me looking nervous and said, "Don't worry, he's going to cry but he'll be fine and you'll love the picture." He then told the Elf taking the picture, "this is a quick one," and before you knew it the whole traumatizing experience was over.

Santa was right. This picture is awesome. See that little dog Leo is holding? That is Spot. Leo loves Spot. Spot goes everywhere Leo goes, even daycare. Spot eats with Leo, sleeps with Leo. Tonight we lost Spot. He fell out of the stroller while we were walking throughout the mall. I was in tears. I retraced our steps. I asked people. I felt like an utter failure as a mom because I couldn't protect the thing my son loved.

Leo didn't even notice he was gone. Maybe Leo was mad that Spot didn't protect him from Scary Santa. When we got home, I dug out this little bear that was about the same size as Spot and poof! Leo had a new best friend.

Maybe I'm not a failure after all.

After all this, I rearranged the living room furniture and put up our Christmas tree. I also cleaned out our garage this afternoon. I sincerely hope this productivity carries over to Monday.

Over It

2011-11-18T21:22:00.000-08:00

I am far too cranky for a Friday night. This work week has kicked my ass and my December (work-wise) is looking insane. One one day I have three trials, um how in the hell is that supposed to happen?

Those who took the July California state bar exam found out tonight if they passed. It has been five years since I logged on to the bar website and found out that I had passed. The bar exam was the hardest thing I have ever done mentally and I was immensely relieved to find out that I had passed and would never have to take it again.

It has only been five years. A drop in the bucket. And I am already feeling burnt out. All I deal with are problems. I practice special education law and I never get to see anyone happy about the education their children are receiving. No one is happy to see me when I walk into a meeting. It is all disagreement, confrontation, anger, frustration, all the fucking time.

Normally, I love being a lawyer. I really do. But today I am so fucking over it.

Dangerous Co-Sleeping?

2011-11-17T20:58:00.001-08:00

I asked my husband if he had seen the controversial co-sleeping advertisement.

Me: "You know the one with the baby and the knife? They are trying to say that co-sleeping.."

Husband: "....turns babies into murderers?"

Um not exactly. I tried to explain to him the point of the ad campaign is to tell people that co-sleeping is dangerous because people could roll over, etc.

Husband: "whatever, I've been rolling over on Leo forever."

And then he went back to looking at his fantasy football stats. I kinda wish that I could just brush off parenting controversies like him. He just never gets wrapped up in what other people are doing, are saying, the latest study, "the mommy wars." He just parents the way he parents, lives his life the way he lives his life and that's it. What other people are doing is of no concern to him.

When I saw the co-sleeping ad, I furiously googled safe ways to co-sleep, benefits of co-sleeping, read everyone's blog post about the ad, about co-sleeping. All this despite the fact that we've been co-sleeping for about a year with absolutely no problems. So obviously what we are doing is working for us and that should be enough for me.

Food

2011-11-16T21:23:00.000-08:00

I'm in a bit of a ranty mood. A ranty mood about food. And now I'm a poet and I didn't even know it. I should really just stop and go to bed but I must vent.

Meal planning is driving me fucking crazy! All I want is for my family to eat healthy food. I'm not getting all crazy with organic. I'm not insisting that everything be made from scratch. I just want the majority of the food we eat to not be sodium-laden crap. I just do not want to eat take-out every night of the week. Part of this desire is The Guilt (you know the working mom guilt, that just plain mom guilt), in my quest to do it all I feel like I have to provide my family with nutritious meals. The other part is a desire to not become a bloated whale.

I have two major forces working against me in my meal planning. First is time. I simply do not have time to cook a whole meal after work. I try to feed Leo by 6:30. When you get home at 6, that doesn't leave a lot of time. Lately, I have been making dinner the night before so I can heat it up and we can eat together. This works but it means that I have to spend another hour after Leo's bedtime cooking and cleaning the kitchen. This cuts into my wine time which is not ok. I only have a couple of go-to meals that I can pull together in 30 minutes. I need more!

The other force is the pickiness. My husband is an insanely picky eater. He will not eat the following: ham, any kind of seafood, sausage (he'll eat it but pout about it), corn, spaghetti noodles, any kind of squash, eggplant, green peppers, whole wheat pasta. There are more but I'm drawing a blank right now. And Leo has decided that he only eats carbs, meat, and cheese.

The other night I made pasta with homemade sauce with carrots, zucchini, and lean ground beef. Neither of them would eat it! They both caught on that I had sneaked veggies into the sauce. So frustrating. Last weekend I think Leo only ate chicken nuggets.

I'm not sure what the point of this post is. I just had to pound out my frustrations somewhere and I chose my laptop.

A Day In My Life

2011-11-15T20:41:00.000-08:00

I love the holidays. Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas are my trifecta of happiness. But this time of year is hard for me too. The time change seriously messes with me. I absolutely hate picking up my baby when its dark out. I feel like I've abandoned him at daycare when it is really only 5 o'clock. The holidays also seem to highlight whatever lame family drama I'm having.

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, and in the spirit of cleaning up any holiday funk laying around, I have decided to do a "day in my life," the grateful version. Be forewarned, I'm about to get a little sappy.

Around 5:30 a.m. I hear whimpers from the nursery. I go in to see a baby not quite ready to wake up but wanting to snuggle. I am so grateful for those snuggles! I bring Leo into bed with us and catch another half hour of sleep. Around 6 a.m. I wake up and see my boys sleeping soundly and feel incredibly blessed to have a husband who loves me and a happy healthy baby (ok toddler).

I get out of the shower to a still sleeping husband and a just waking up happy baby. I adore how happy he is in the morning. I get ready while Leo runs around the bedroom and hides the toothpaste from my husband.

After we are all dressed we head downstairs for breakfast. I present his highness with eggs, homemade whole wheat zucchini bread and wait with baited breath to see if he eats it. Today I'm grateful that he actually ate something!

Next I feed the dogs, pack up our bags, and we head out the door by 7:30-7:45 ish. Mickey isn't pictured but I love my bulldogs and I am grateful that they are sweet dogs who get along with Leo and are in (mostly) good health.

I drop Leo off at daycare around 8 a.m. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm extremely grateful to have a fantastic daycare so close to my house with sincere, caring teachers. My son is thriving there and his teachers have been a huge help to me.

Then I'm off to work where I do a number of lawyerly things. Some of which include reading blogs and playing on pinterest. (What? Everyone needs a mental break sometimes!) In reality, I'm researching, writing, emailing, conference calling, meeting, putting out fires. I am grateful to have an excellent job which challenges me on a daily basis, allows me to provide for my family, and keeps me sane.

I'm out the door by 4:45 p.m. and off to pick up Leo. We get home around 6 p.m. and today I am grateful that I made dinner the night before. I just had to heat it up and we were eating. My husband gets home around 7 p.m. and we play, hang out, watch Yo Gabba Gabba until bathtime. I don't like that we eat without my husband but I'm incredibly grateful for how hard he works for our family.

Around 8 p.m., it's bath, last sippy cup of milk, teeth brushing, stories, and then off to bed. Tonight I am grateful for easy bedtime routines because mama is tired.

After Leo is in bed, I clean up the kitchen, watch t.v., play on the internet, hang out with the husband, tweet, blog, eat ice cream, drink wine. There are so many more things I'm thankful for: good friends; a warm, cozy house; plenty of food in my fridge; gas in my car. The basics that many don't have. My life isn't easy, I don't know anyone who has that, but I am grateful for all my blessings.

It's Monday and This Is All I Got

2011-11-14T21:40:00.000-08:00

Me: I need a blog topic.

Sister: You could blog about how I keep trying to ask you for dating advice but you can never help me since you don't even know what it means to date anymore. Then it could start a whole debate on what dating really is. Is it to meet your soulmate? Or just to find someone to have sex with?

Me: Wow, that's really deep. I was going to post a picture of bulldogs and call it a night.

Photo by The Rogue Woman

Look, it's Monday and I survived. I think that is pretty good. Forgive me for not being more deep than that. Enjoy the picture of my bullies, feel free to discuss what it means to date amongst yourselves. But seriously, I do not understand dating in a texting/facebooking/tweeting world. Apparently, people do not just ask you out to dinner, pick you up, take you to a nice restaurant, and pay for dinner anymore.

One Drink Minimum

2011-11-13T15:51:00.000-08:00

Our Saturday night was cuh-razy. First we went out to dinner with another couple and their 13 month old son. Two wiggly toddlers in a restaurant was quite the challenge. The other mom and I ordered a glass of wine and joked how there is a one drink minimum at dinner because with a toddler you don't have time to have two and forget about ordering dessert.

Then we rushed home to meet our babysitter because the husband and I actually went on a date! We had a gift card to a really nice restaurant by our house, high up on a hill with amazing views (thanks Dad!).

We sat on the outside patio, ordered drinks, and chatted. When it got too chilly we moved inside to the piano bar and made fun of the stupid drunk people from the wedding held at the restaurant. I saw multiple people climb into the backseats of cars while still holding their glass of wine.

As seen above, we enjoyed martinis. Pre-baby, one of my classic drinks was a dirty vodka martini with extra olives (bonus if the olives are blue cheese stuffed). I don't think I've had one since Leo was born because this drink is basically a cup of booze and while I can handle my wine, vodka is whole different story. So I had one of these and I was feeling so good, I ordered some foofy hibiscus martini which was pink and sweet and I don't even know what was in it.

We had a lovely date, just talking, being romantic, reconnecting, blah, blah, blah. When we got home, Leo woke up about four times throughout the night. After sleeping for shit and my martinis (plus the wine from dinner) I woke up feeling like pure fucking hell. I was hungover. I have not been legitimately hungover in a long time. Maybe once while Leo was an infant and that was a combo of hangover + stomach flu. While that sucked, it wasn't that bad. Just thaw out some breastmilk, give the kid a bottle and let him stare out whatever developmentally stimulating toy we had.

Hungover with a toddler? That shit is hard. He was bouncing all over the place, wanting to play, climb, jump off the couch, etc. I dragged myself downstairs, got him some milk and turned on the t.v. At least it was PBS kids. I'll take my mother of the year award now, thanks. Finally the husband woke up and took over for me. I ended up being able to go back to sleep and it was glorious. I felt horrific that I had to lay down because I had too much to drink before. And then I felt bad that one glass of wine and 2 martinis was considered too much to drink (I'm getting old!).

The only thing that got me out of bed and snapped me out of the depths of my hangover was me remembering that I had to get the crockpot going to start my latest pinterest recipe.

The morals of my story are: when you have a baby don't try to drink like you did before said baby, hangovers with a toddler are miserable, and pinterest will cure your hangover. You're welcome.

Big Boy 'Do

2011-11-12T14:56:00.000-08:00

Leo got his first real haircut today. Not just me chopping off his bangs or his aunt (who is a hairdresser) cutting his hair in her kitchen. We actually went to his aunt's salon for a professional job.

Why do I keep hearing "cat's in the and the silver spoon" playing through head? Because my little baby boy is growing up!

So his hair had become a hot mess and someone thought he was a girl yesterday.

He was so good throughout the whole ordeal!

Hehe, my baby has gel in his hair. He looks so grown up now! I can feel all that little babyness he had just slipping away.

It makes me sad, but he is becoming one awesome toddler.

Wine Time

2011-11-11T16:00:00.000-08:00

This week I had lunch with a working mom friend of mine. We were commiserating over the working mom stress, guilt, and dire need of wine. She told me that at the grocery store, her 3 year old daughter asks, "does Mommy need wine?" and she justs hopes a social worker isn't standing nearby. While Leo's language skills are not there, I have no doubt that one day he will equate wine with Mommy. We joked that we are not alcoholics but sometimes we just need a glass of wine!

And then it hit me, it's not really about the wine, it's about the circumstances surrounding the glass of wine. I explained this to my friend, sometimes I don't even drink the wine I've poured. But if I'm having a glass of wine that means (1) I'm not at work and (2) I'm not actively parenting (ok sometimes I have a glass of wine in front of Leo but I usually take two sips and then I'm off chasing him). Having a glass of wine means I'm relaxing, no one is bugging me to fix anything, to settle a case, to train an employee, to get more goldfish or milk, to read Brown Bear, Brown Bear for the millionth time. The glass of wine means I am talking to my husband or reading a book or catching up on my DVR. Sometimes the glass of wine means I'm knitting and subsequently screwing up my knitting because I'm drinking a glass of wine. Basically, having a glass of wine means I've slowed down and taking some time for myself.

I feel like a lot of moms, myself included, are always saying "I need wine now!" But I think the wine is really code for "I need some fucking me-time people or I will cut something." And we all know that the illusive me-time is crucial to the survival of any mother's sanity. Of course, me-time is even better if you do have a glass of good wine to accompany it.

Baby Sister

2011-11-10T21:22:00.000-08:00

This is my baby sister.

She has amazing hair and I am jealous. That is all. And she's awesome. Ok, she may have told me to say that. But she is.

Confessions

2011-11-09T20:59:00.000-08:00

So I did this accent vlog last night and then spent all night trying to figure out how to upload the video and I never figured it out. Which is a shame because I was ridiculously cute and funny, didn't look tired, and my hair looked awesome. In related news, sometimes I exaggerate.

And then came today where I dealt with a teething toddler who has pinkeye. So I had to keep him cooped up in the house all day and he was going cuh-razy. Husband gets to stay home with him tomorrow. Good luck Honey!

So I wanted to keep up with my posting every day during November but last night's post got screwed up and today was just a cluster fuck of not-awesomeness. So all I have is a couple of parenting confessions:

1) When I read books to Leo I pretend I'm doing a voiceover for Reading Rainbow and try to read the story in my very best professional actor voice full of depth and emotion.

2) When I cook in the kitchen, I let Leo play on the floor around me and empty out my cabinets, play with pots and pans, etc. (while making sure he's safe and all). While he does this I day dream about his Food Network special where he says in his interview, "I grew up in my mom's kitchen, watching her cook and that's what inspired me to become a chef." And then he becomes a world famous chef, sells cookbooks, opens a restaurant, and takes care of me in my old age.

Ok that's all I got. Back to my appellate brief who is being a little bitch and won't write herself.

A Better Answer

2011-11-07T20:56:00.000-08:00

Today I got another "I don't know how you work with a baby, I stayed home with my babies," comment. Seriously, why do people think this is an ok thing to say? I don't say to fat people, "wow I can't believe, you continue to be so fat, I went on a diet and it is so much better to not be fat." I mean, what makes people think they can just comment on people's major life decisions?

Of course I gave my usual lame answer, an awkward "oh I don't sleep very much." While this is true, it is a poor answer because I've never slept very much. In college, I partied Tuesday through Saturday, worked, was active in my sorority, and got good enough grades to get into law school. After college was law school and then becoming an attorney, so yeah, sleep isn't really something I do.

Since my answer to the inevitable "how do you do it all?" is so weak, I've decided to come up with some better ones. The next time someone asks me anything about how I manage to work full-time and be a mom here are some of my choices for an answer:

- It's easy to do it all when you are full of the awesome, like I am.
- I rule at all aspects of life.
- I am practically perfect in every way.

And here is the real answer. The answer that I should be proud to say. The real reason how I can manage everything.

I am smart, ambitious, and driven. I am organized, efficient, and dedicated to every commitment I undertake whether it be as a mother, attorney, wife, dog-owner, or homeowner.

Why I am so hesitant to give the real answer? Is it modesty? Am I really that humble? Does it feel like I'm bragging to tell somebody that I am good at all the things that I do? Why can't I just be proud of it? Is this something that other working moms struggle with?

This dilemma reminds me of Tina Fey's take on the matter where, she says that this question is the worst you can ask a mother because she either has to say that a) she's not doing things well or b) she is doing everything well which makes the other person feel like shit. That's a very loose paraphrasing because I can't find the actual quote but you know what I mean. I wish mothers could get to a point where we can comfortably say "hey I'm a good mom and employee," and other mothers can say "hey, that's great, good for you," without any bad feelings on either side.

Blah

2011-11-06T20:16:00.000-08:00

Today has literally sucked the life out of me. Leo has four teeth poking through, daylight saving time royally fucked up his sleep, I made apple cinnamon oatmeal muffins (from scratch), lasagna (from scratch save the noodles), dusted, vacuumed, did about 5 loads of laundry, and entertained Leo all day so my husband could work.

I. Am. Done.

So instead of anything meaningful, I have one last thing to say about the Johnson & Johnson cancer-causing baby shampoo issue. I'm not sure why carcinogens would be put in baby shampoo but they obviously do something because the organic, non-cancer-causing Burt's Bees shampoo/wash sucks. It doesn't get foamy and bubbly, it smells weird, and makes the water look oddly oily.

And tomorrow I have a court appearance that I really would rather not attend. Plus I have to write this stupid appellate brief that I have been putting off forever (sidenote: Pinterest you need to go away for this week, I've got shit to do). Basically, I'm in a "WHERE THE HELL IS MAH WINE?" kind of mood. Alright, that's enough of that. I am off to be pissy now.

Fail

2011-11-05T14:09:00.001-07:00

This morning Leo had swim lessons. Before that we went with the husband to watch the Michigan game and have breakfast at a restaurant. Then I took Leo to a little holiday boutique at a church and bought a really cute santa from some adorable little old ladies. One day I want to be an adorable little old lady selling crafty items. Although, I also want to be cussing and drinking a martini while doing that.

Anyways, back to the swim lessons. I do not own a lot of bathing suits and after the birth of my precious child, most of them look down right scary. I had been wearing my super cute, red, 50s style one piece to lessons. Although it is flattering, it is a really expensive Juicy Couture suit and really made for lounging by the pool and not actual swimming. So today I figured I would give my expensive suit a rest and throw on my faded black bikini, baring stretch marks and all. I was a little self conscious about this choice but I thought, "fuck it, last week a mom wore a sports bra and shorts, we're all moms right?"

Wrong. Of course this is the week that there are two dads in the class. Obviously they also have children and wives who have had children so the gasps in horror at my stomach weren't too loud. That was fail number one for the day.

After swim lessons, I threw Leo in the bath to rinse off the chlorine. I lovingly washed him with his Burt's Bees soap. After the Johnson & Johnson debacle, I threw all of mine away, even the Aveeno because it is made by J&J, ran to Target and spent way too much money on Burt's Bees soap and lotion. Apparently, I think it is ok to put my kid in a swimming pool with so much chlorine my eyes are burning, but absolutely no J&J.

After the bath, I lovingly massage the Burt's Bees lotion on my cute little baby. All the while I'm thinking, "what the hell? This stuff is so sticky and doesn't absorb at all." Looking at my white little baby, I realized I was vigorously rubbing the soap on him. Fail number two. Back in the bath he went, I'm sure thinking, "what the hell is she doing? I just took a fucking bath."

It is not even 2:30pm and I've had two major fails (but I managed to get a blog post out!). Tonight I'm going to a wedding where I have just been informed that the bride plans to get me hammered since she was so hammered at my wedding. As long as she plans on giving me about three glasses of wine, she will accomplish her plan.

Day Four

2011-11-04T20:36:00.000-07:00

Here I am at Day Four of National Blog Posting Month and I'm already running out of steam. The challenge is to post every day for the month of November, including weekends. Just a little daunting. Since it's Friday and I'm really tired, I'm just going to do a list of random things:

- How many teeth do 16 month olds get? Because I feel like Leo has been teething for-fucking-ever. I love that little man but I am over the whiny and the drool and the nasty teething poops.

- Pinterest may be my downfall at work. I have this appellate brief to write and I just do not want to write it. So I play on pinterest. It is terrible and I'm ashamed to admit but I'm sick of wading through pages of testimony.

- I started Christmas shopping this past week and I feel so on top of this holiday already! I'm sure I'll be scrambling at the last minute for something but I will enjoy my feeling of accomplishment while it lasts.

- While I may have gotten a head start on Christmas, my Halloween decorations are still up. And it poured rain today. So my cobwebs on the bushes in the front are now, I don't even know, but they don't look easy to remove.

- I hate U.S.C. football.

- This week I found this video:

My mom bought a VHS of this 1968 Christmas special from the bargain bin at Pic n Save (now called Big Lots). And we loved it so much but the VHS has long been lost. I was so excited to find it, I even cried a little while watching it. Also, I remember being so embarrassed to go to Pic n Save and worried that I would see someone that I knew. And then my mom pointed out that, if I did run into someone I knew than that person would be at Pic n Save too so there is nothing to be embarrassed about.

Ok, that's all I got. Expect some more fluff over the weekend and hopefully some substance next week.

A Board Marriage

2011-11-03T21:25:00.000-07:00

My husband and I have this really terrible habit. We've been doing it ever since we moved in together before we were married (gasp! I know, so sinful). We've tried to stop doing it. We've talked it over, we've bickered about it, dare I say, we even yelled about it.

We are addicted to our laptops. Not just our laptops. The laptop plus the internet.

At the end of the day when we finally get around to relaxing on the couch, we sit on opposite ends of the couch and play on our laptops. He's reading sports blogs, ESPN, news, and the Drudge Report. I'm tweeting, pinning, blogging, and facebooking with a healthy dose of gossip sites. We still talk but our hands are glued to the keyboard. There are plenty of "hey did you hear about..." or "watch this video, it's hilarious!"

We've tried putting the laptops away to watch movies or a tv show but inevitably we will see an actor that we can't remember or the name of a song and we feel the compulsive need to google.

I know it's horrible; but we are lawyers. We talk and argue and explain all freaking day long. It's exhausting. Then we come home to parent and it's all "row, row, row your boat," "Leo don't lick the dog," "Leo don't climb on that," and reading the counting book with the moose five million times. By the time we get to the couch, we are just all talked out.

However, at the urging of my husband, we have started to slightly change. We have instituted game night.

It started with Trivial Pursuit, then I bought Scrabble and now we have a brand new Monopoly waiting to be played. We don't play every night (dude, Scrabble is hard and you need some brain power for it, I don't have that every night). But it has been shockingly fun to turn off the tv and laptops and play a game. Normally, I despise games, especially of the board variety, but I actually look forward to playing now.

We have not completely given up our old ways. It's 9:30 pm and I'm on my laptop and he's reading Car and Driver magazines (research for a new car which we do not need and I oppose because I'd rather buy fancy art and a flat screen for our bedroom, you know, first world problems). Bad habits die hard but I feel like we are taking a tiny step to reconnecting and getting back to basics. We don't get out a lot for date nights so it is important for us to spend time together when we can.

Hey Nablowies - posting every day is hard yo and this is only the third day!

Goodbye October

2011-11-02T21:23:00.000-07:00

I'm sad that October is over.

I will miss the pumpkin patches.

The petting zoos.

Little lions walking down the street.

Even if he is a grumpy little lion.

I need to get through November, respect the turkey, and then BRING ON CHRISTMAS!

The Speed of Mom

2011-11-01T21:48:00.000-07:00

The other day I settled a case in 30 minutes. 30 minutes and it was done, settlement agreement written and signed. Opposing counsel was also a mother of a toddler. Coincidence? I think not.

Toddler moms move fast. We move fast while maintain accuracy because we have to. Because toddlers are crazy and all over the place and toddler moms are experts at containing the crazy.

We move with lightening speed to pry out whatever sharp/dirty/dangerous thing the toddler may be trying to chew on.

We move swiftly with cat-like reflexes to scoop up a tumbled over toddler, trying so hard to run/climb/jump, and cover him with kisses.

We eat in a flash because while the toddler may be happily munching his raviolis one minute, we know that in a second he could be flipping his toddler shit and flinging raviolis at the dog.

We pee like we are in a crowded bar and there is a line of drunk angry girls out the door because, let's face it, it is awkward to pee with a little person staring at you and trying to unroll the toilet paper so you just want to get it over with.

We zip through Target either on our lunch break or with a toddler in tow, hoping to pacify him with a cake pop from Starbucks so we can buy diapers and a cute pair of shoes (and we only go to the Targets with Starbucks for obvious reasons).

But every so often, we slow down, take advantage of the illusive toddler snuggle, read a story, and drink in the wonder of being a toddler mom.

Working and Being a Mama

2011-09-20T20:45:00.000-07:00

"Guess I can't see the harm
In working and being a mama
And with a kid on my arm
I'm still an exceptional earner
And you want a piece of me"

- The very wise Ms. Britney Spears in "Piece of Me."

Mama got a raise today. I'm bringing home the bacon, frying it up, serving it, and packing it up for lunch tomorrow. Time to pick out a celebratory purse.

Wine, Park, and Guilt

2011-09-12T22:25:00.000-07:00

I am not very good at relaxing. I hate getting massages. I can't stand yoga (an hour alone with my thoughts is not relaxing). I don't like being at home very much. I always want to get out and do something.

Usually we are so busy that there is not much downtime for me to get bored but this past Sunday we did not have much going on and I so wanted to get out of the house. We were debating between taking Leo to the park or strolling around the Circle (the Circle is this adorable little town center where I live with antique stores, restaurants, a cute fountain, etc.). The Circle ended up winning. We walked around and had an appetizer and a glass of wine on the patio of a favorite restaurant. The weather was gorgeous and it felt like we were on vacation.

When we got back to the house, Leo was cuh-razy. He was just a little ball of energy that was ricocheting off the walls. I started to feel bad that we had not taken him to the park. The husband off-handedly commented, "oh Mommy was selfish and didn't take you to the park."

Me? Selfish? Putting my own needs before the baby? Never! It is all about him, all the time. Ok, maybe I was thinking more about me when I decided I wanted to go to a restaurant for a glass of wine and a little food. That definitely would not be Leo's first choice. He would have chosen the park. I declared that we were still going to the park and would go after dinner.

I fed Leo his dinner and got in the car to go to the park. There is an awesome, brand new, super clean with a perfect toddler sized playset park about 15 minutes from our house. I headed there. While I was driving I realized that the sun was setting. Crap! I have to take my baby to the park! I started to freak out and tried checking my phone for the sunset time. It was in 20 minutes! Shit! I started to use my navigation to find a closer park with no luck. Fuck it, I thought, we are going to the damn park and I floored it. Now I was the crazy mom in her crazy SUV driving like a bat out of hell to get to the park in time before the sunset.

Don't judge me about my cell phone use and bat out of hell driving. There is a reason why I bought Leo the most expensive car seat that ever existed.

We finally got to the park (the husband stayed home to work on the yard aka watch football). It ended up being a success. We had a solid 20 minutes of play time which is perfect for a toddler. Leo is obsessed with balloons right now and he saw a little girl with one, of course he started to chase her. The little girl didn't speak English and kept yelling at him in Spanish. I wanted to say "he just likes your balloon" but my high school Spanish was failing me and I was afraid of saying something horribly offensive which would prompt her parents yelling at me in Spanish. So I just kept redirecting him. Despite the constant chasing, we had fun.

On the way home I realized that I had no gas. After filling up, we got home around 8pm. Leo got a bath and went straight to bed he was so exhausted. All this because I felt compelled by guilt to get him to the park. Because I felt guilty for thinking about what I wanted to do before what the baby might want to do. Looking back, Leo had fun at the Circle and would have been fine without going to the park. We had fun at the park but the heart attack I suffered in trying to get there really wasn't necessary. He would have had just as much fun at home with us.

I need to remember that it is ok to think about what I want from time to time. That putting me first or listening to what I would like to do is ok and does not need to result in a frantic dash to the park to make up for it. When I was younger and I thought about motherhood being hard I thought it was because of the dirty diapers and sleepless nights. I did not fathom the sheer amounts of guilt that could stem from a simple decision to go to a restaurant versus the park.

Motherhood is kind of a mind-fuck.

Yum!

2011-09-06T21:00:00.000-07:00

About once a month I have to work late to go to a board meeting (I work for a public agency). These days give me horrific anxiety because I have to arrange someone to pick up Leo from daycare. I drop off and pick up everyday because my husband takes the train to work. So on board meeting days my husband either has to leave early or I have to find someone else to get Leo. Today was one of those days and Captain America left work early to get Leo.

In the days before Leo I would have been so flipping stoked to be advising the board. I would have sat up there all proud and stuff extolling expert legal advice. Now I just hope that no one can see my anxiety induced sweat attack as I check my phone obsessively for text messages from my husband confirming that he got the baby.

But then, randomly, I ended up getting out of the meeting early and traffic was amazingly light. I called my husband four times, left two voicemails, and a text message telling him I would get Leo. I was not all that surprised when I bumped into him in the hall of daycare as I was walking out with Leo. Obviously, we need to work on checking our phone.

Since we were both off work early we went to Red Robin. Yum.

Leo got a balloon and a kid's meal complete with a little cup of milk. He looked like such a little boy. It seriously seems like yesterday I that was trying to figure out how to breastfeed him while sitting in a booth at a restaurant and not bang his head on a table. Or mixing a bottle of formula and hoping the La Leche League nazis didn't see me. But there he was, with his little cup and everything.

Dinner with my boys was such a nice, random surprise on this fake Monday. Leo loved his balloon but could not handle it if the balloon was floating over his head. So I had to hold it at face level. Toddlers are weird.

How cute are my boys? I could just die. Seriously. Later that night I watched my husband read books to Leo and my icy heart melted just a little. This motherhood thing is making me soft.

It's Not All About Work

2011-09-05T21:29:00.000-07:00

Lately, I've only been posting about being a working mom, but I don't work every day and I had quite the enjoyable weekend.

First it was gameday on Saturday. Yay? The Husband went to University of Michigan so of course Leo and I have to support him.

Even though we all know UC Santa Barbara is way better (it is at least more more). But they don't have a football team so I accept cheering for Michigan.

Yes, I'm aware that my husband's jersey is hideous. It is some retro thing for the Notre Dame game. He is very excited about it. Try not to tell him how ridiculous it looks.

On Sunday, the Husband went off to golf. I hung out with the little dude and took him to Joann's Fabrics for some craft supplies. Except Joann's opens at 10am on Sundays and when you get up at 6:30am that seems to take forever. So we went to Starbucks for a coffee date.

Leo is obsessed with these fruit pouch things. I figure it is ok since its fruit. But does it count as juice? I'm afraid of juice. Anyways, we still ended up being early to Joann's so we waited in the parking lot with all of the other crazy crafting ladies.

Then we headed off to our city's annual street fair. It's all about food, music, and beer. Leo had lemonade for the first time and a corn dog (part of one at least). He loved all of it. I did not love all of the stupidly drunk people stumbling every where. Also did not love seeing my ex-boyfriend (who got fat). Might rethink this event next year.

That was Sunday. On Monday I had a coffee date with a good friend and her oh-so-snuggly baby. I may have demanded unprotected you-know-what when I got home. She made an awesome pumpkin cake and I think when I host the next one I will make peanut butter chocolate chip crescent rolls. I forsee a healthy baking competition in future coffee dates. Then we had lunch with my grandparents and went on a family walk.

You are probably asking yourself, "So what did she get at Joann's that was so important?" That's a good question! I crafted all mother-trucking weekend. This is very strange as I never do any crafty things. When I rushed my sorority I couldn't even make my big sis her own gifts. My bff/pledge classmate had to do all my crafts.

First I made a fall-themed rag garland. Just strips of fabric tied onto twine. Super easy but it takes an eternity to cut out the strips and then tie everything. I may have consumed an entire bottle of wine while watching a Sex and the City marathon while completing this craft.

I also made two yarn wreaths. Also an easy craft but took forever because my cute little skein of yarn quickly became a giant cluster-fuck (sorry but no other way to describe it) and I had to untangle knots every five seconds.

I think it came out pretty cute though.

I also made chicken picatta, crockpot chili and cornbread (from a box), and a lasagna. I would now like a weekend to recover from my weekend.

One Year Anniversary

2011-09-01T22:11:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of becoming a working mom. One year ago I stuffed myself into work clothes (ok fine, I'm still stuffing myself into work clothes) and dropped off my precious baby at daycare. I ran out of the daycare center crying and drove off to my brand new job. To say that the past year has been crazy is a gross understatement.

But this post is not about me (for once). This post is about Leo and daycare. I signed up Leo for daycare when I was about five months pregnant. I just wanted to get it over with. I researched all options and picked a daycare center that I loved.

Leo started at nine weeks old. It was heartbreaking for me. I don't think he noticed all that much.

His teachers quickly became his second greatest cheerleaders (besides me and the husband). They cheered him on as he learned to roll over, sit, crawl, and walk. They worked with me through starting solids, teething, and sickness. They were always there with advice and stories of their own experiences.

And boy was there sickness. Despite their best efforts, the daycare center is a germ factory. Leo has suffered through colds, two fevers, two stomach bugs, pink eye, and an alleged ear infection (I still think it was teething and the doctor was wrong). My world fell apart each time he was sick. It was never anything serious. He always recovered quickly. There was much drama over who would miss work, who could take him to the doctor. Looking back now, I laugh at myself for being so dramatic about it. I never thought I would find myself begging for solid poop so he could go back to daycare and I wouldn't have to miss a third day of work. The one plus side is that a sick baby is a snuggly baby.

When Leo was having a rough day, his teachers were always there with extra love, attention, and snuggles.

I laughed to myself when he brought home all his "art projects." I had no idea I would be hanging such things on my fridge so early but I did.

When I dropped him off, I watched a huge smile spread across his chubby cheeks as he saw his teachers. I swear one in particular can make him laugh in a way that I have never seen duplicated.

At a very early age I watched him engage in parallel play and when he hugged a little girl the other day I just about died.

Leo has been in fulltime daycare for a year. He is happy, healthy, and well adjusted. He is cautious about strangers but quick to warm up to friendly faces. Different environments do not faze him. He is curious and active. He can nap through noise and in broad daylight. I frequently vacuum his room while he is asleep and he doesn't even notice it. Dropping him off is still hard, picking him up is still amazing. I miss him like crazy during the day but I am comforted by the fact that he is in such caring and capable hands.

So to all my daycare mommas out there - I know it's hard and I know people will give you the sideeye and yes, your kid is going to get sick, a lot. But daycare can be such a great place, a source of support, and an environment where your child can grow into an amazing little person. My advice is to research your options and pick the center that meets your standards. You can ask all the questions in the world, but once you walk into the center you will just know if it is right for you and your family. Oh, and invest in a good humidifier. Those are a lifesaver.

Doing It All

2011-08-31T20:35:00.000-07:00

Oh Lordy today was a day. It started off fine. I had one meeting to attend and then I was leaving early to get the baby and take Mickey to the vet for some skin issues. Seems simple enough. Um yeah, not so much. At my meeting I learned of some facts/issues that basically sent my office into panic mode. Like "oh shit, we need to get a game plan to deal with this issue now" mode. So I leaped into action, writing letters, emails, calling people, apprising them of the situation and coming up with solutions.

Oh crap, I'm supposed to leave early to take my dog to the vet. I haven't told my boss yet and I need to leave in an hour. Work is exploding but my puppy is sick. What to do? I tidied up the situation the best I could, sent the boss an email, and proceed to haul ass to daycare so I could get the kid, get home, get the dog, and get to the vet on time.

Of course as I'm pulling into the house, my boss calls and wants to discuss the event for me. So I'm talking through things as I'm changing Leo out of the random outfit daycare put on him after a blowout diaper, trying to get out of my work clothes, pack a diaper bag, find the dog's collar, etc. Luckily my boss was super understanding of my puppy's needs and didn't mind at all that I had left early. (I swear I will only work for a women who has kids and is a dog lover, they just get it.)

I made it to the vet on time, explained the problem to the doctor and everthing was going well. Then he asked me, "so what do you do besides being a fulltime mom?"

I thought this was an odd question. I answered that I was an attorney but I thought what if I didn't have an "outside the home" job? That would have been really awkward. Here I was, during the work day, in shorts and flip flops. I clearly didn't look professional or even employed.

The vet started mumbling, "full time job, kid, a dog, hard to keep up, hard to do it all." I replied, "actually I have two dogs, I left one at home." He said, "you just can't do it all." I replied, "I try my best."

He repeated, "you just can't do it all." Um, excuse me? Am I not here at the vet in the middle of the work day just to make sure my dog is taken care of? Is my happy, well adjusted toddler not eating nutritous snacks and reading his numbers book which I thoughtfully packed to keep him occupied? Am I not checking my phone and reading work emails, determining if anything needs my immediate attention? Am I not dropping $200 on various medicines and anal gland expression without batting any eye because my husband and I both work and, bottom line, we can afford that?

I do believe, good sir, that you are in the middle of observing me "doing it all" right in front of your very eyes. What a strange guy, with strange mumblings.

Even though the vet was odd, he fixed Mickey up. She had some hot spots and to keep her from itching them, we put a t-shirt on her. She's doing well and looks darn cute.

In unrelated news, Leo has started planking. I don't understand these kids and their crazy trends. He can also open the lid to the toilet. Super fun.

What I Think About The Grass On The Other Side

2011-08-29T21:03:00.000-07:00

I think that I need to stop checking facebook during the day at work. I inevitably see a status update from a "friend" proclaiming her love for staying home with her kids. Things like "I love being able to take a three hour nap with my three year old :)" and "I was born to stay home with my kids." I'm not trying to hate on stay at home moms but on a Monday morning when I didn't sleep the night before because toddler feet were kicking me in the face and my boss is asking for a status report on a project I forgot about and then I see some sticky sweet crap about being a stay at home mom, this is what happens:

Scenario One: I send a flurry of weepy text messages to my husband saying things like "I don't care if we have to eat ramen and live in a van down by the river, I need to stay home with my baby!" I typically get some kind of "get over yourself" response and then I move along with my day.

Scenario Two: I decide that since I'm such an empowered working mom I deserve a little treat. So I head down to Target where I drop $100 on shoes, cardigans that will look like crap after one wash, clothes for Leo, wine, and a twix bar. Or I buy a bunch of crap online and then nervously await the arrival of the package so I can hide it from my husband.

Scenario Three: In a desperate attempt to feel validated for working I spend the majority of my day reading working mom blogs. Said blogs are entertaining and informative but sort of defeat the whole "working" part of being a working mom.

Obviously these scenarios are not exactly ideal, for my psyche, job, or wallet. What should happen is that I see the random sahm status update, think "oh I'm glad that person is having a nice day, " and go about my lawyerly business. And for the love of all things holy if I see the "Do I work? Yes, I'm a Mom! I'm an alarm clock, maid, cook, yada, yada" post one more flipping time I'm going to flip my mom shit. That little cut and paste status update is just embarrassing to all moms, working, sahm, or otherwise. I sure as hell do not see any dads posting that kind of crap.

This post was meant to be an insightful look into my working mom status and how I perceive the grass on the other side. However, it ended up being more rambling because it is 9:00 p.m. and I am in the middle of making roasted butternut squash soup. Clearly I have issues that are not going to be sorted out in one blog post.

Baby Foodie

2011-08-17T21:37:00.000-07:00

I've been in a bad mood this week. Work is meh. Husband has been out of town. And I've just been all pouty and mopey and wah like.

Leo is always a bright spot in a dreary day but lately he has taken to throwing his food after the high chair and it drives me crazy! I am psycho about his food. I make just about everything. I lovingly bake bread, make meatballs with veggies, cook him a hot breakfast every day and when he just throws it on the floor it drives me so insane! I think part of my obsession with making all of his food comes from my working mom guilt. I want my son to have all the benefits that a stay at home mom might provide and in my fantasy world stay at home moms make every meal for their child from scratch and my son will not be denied that just because I work damnit!!! And I fully realize that stay at home moms could not possibly make every meal from scratch and I should probably let go just a little so that I'm not staying up till midnight on a work night baking banana bread but I'm a little neurotic so there you go.

I know he is just a toddler and he doesn't mean anything by it. But seeing that food fly to the floor when I've spent so much time preparing is enough to drive anyone mad. Plus, he keeps throwing food to the dogs and that doesn't go well for anyone (my bullies have sensitive tummies).

Today was a trying day at work. I had someone object to my presence at a meeting because it was adversarial and then I got mustard all over myself at lunch right before a video conference (luckily my jacket covered it). The road to daycare was closed so I had to take a huge detour for dropping off and picking up. I forgot my walled and had to track down a co-worker who was willing to (1) have lunch with me and (2) pay for my lunch.

I was actually dreading feeding Leo dinner because I just couldn't take him throwing anymore food on the floor. I had made spinach mac n cheese and chicken/corn/green bean meatballs earlier in the week. I put them all on his little dinosaur plate and put it on the high chair while holding my breath.

And thank sweet, little, 8 pound, 6 oz, baby Jesus he ate all of it! He didn't throw a single piece off the highchair and even used his spoon to eat applesauce. My sweet little boy knew exactly how to make his momma happy! Just watching him enjoy his dinner improved my mood by leaps and bounds. Now tomorrow he'll probably eat nothing but cheesy poofs for dinner. Yay for the roller coaster of motherhood.

Giving Up

2011-08-07T20:59:00.000-07:00

Can I get just a wee bit religous with you for a second? Don't worry I'm not going to try to save you and my atheist husband will have a heart attack when he reads this but I feel like I have to write about it.

Background information: born and raised Catholic. Currently a practicing Catholic and by practicing I mean I have lots of guilt and go to mass during Lent.

I have had my fair share of the drama lately. I still cannot go into details but that is not really the point of this post. I have been feeling lost, helpless, confused. I lie awake at night wondering, questioning.

This morning I went to mass. I don't think I have been since Leo's baptism in September. The drama is not what spurred me to go. I simply went because I have been meaning to go to mass and the timing just seemed to work out this morning.

While I was there the drama hit me full force. As I was holding my sleeping son in my lap, my eyes stung with the tears I was struggling to keep in. I started to pray.

I never understood when people said give up your problems to God. I always thought, "shouldn't you do something about your problems instead of relying on someone else?" But today, for some reason, I did just that.

And He answered me. He inspired me to tackle the drama. He gave me hope. He showed me a path. It is going to be a long, painful, twisty path. But where I had been staring at a wall, I am now looking down a path.

I now understand when people say give up your problems to God. That is what I did today and I am so grateful.

Don't worry Captain America, I'm not going to turn into a Bible thumper. We don't even own a bible upon which to thump.

In unrelated news, we took Leo to a park for the first time today. He loved it despite falling out of my arms and getting a huge bruise on his cheek. I'm going to have to delay his one year pictures again!

Drunken Frosting

2011-08-03T22:11:00.000-07:00

I had a very serious, introspective blog post all planned out in my head that I wanted to write tonight. But life got in the way (ok fine, I've been playing with my new google phone all night) and I'm too tired to deal with anything heavy.

Instead I shall leave you with photographic evidence of why one should not drink wine and try to bake/frost a cake at the same time.

I give you Exhibit A - the organic chocolate cake and organic vanilla frosting that I prepared for Leo's first birthday:

Yes, I made him an organic cake (it was still a mix from a box) and then royally screwed up the frosting. Needless to say, this cake did not make it to the party and I ended up just giving him a slice of the adult cake instead which he refused to smash.

Fluff

2011-08-02T21:26:00.000-07:00

It's August.

Blah. Blerg. Meh.

I do not like August. It is without a doubt my least favorite month. It is sticky and disgustingly hot. There are no holidays. It is really long. And because I represent schools, work is mind numbingly slow since every one is on vacation. Really I might poke my eyes out at work from boredom. My big projects this month are preparing a presentation and working on a brief that is due in October. I usually just struggle through the month at work but it is making it even harder to be away from my son since I feel like I am doing nothing productive at work. Well, I have gotten in some good blog reading and it appears that all my favorite bloggers will be at Blogher this week and they have better set up some guest posts or something to keep me from taking a two hour lunch at Target.

Speaking of Target, it is one of those magical times of year where random stuff is on sale. Like this totally awesome, very sophisticated toddler chair.

It is very important looking. Leo is going to sit in it and read many leather-bound books in it.

In reality, he's been climbing it and trying to launch himself over the back.

And there is my blog post o' fluff because the stuff I really want to write about I can't. I want to, I want to pour my little heart out for the internet to see but it's just too personal and I fear the repercussions. Rest assured that I am fine and my little family is fine. I am just dealing with some family drama that refuses to end and it is driving me just a little crazy.

A Full Weekend.

2011-07-31T21:09:00.000-07:00

This past weekend we took a trip to Palm Desert (La Quinta to be exact) for a little vacay.

We have taken Leo (I'm sick of calling him the beast, his name is Leo) on a lot of trips. His first vacation was to San Diego at 7 weeks. He's been on a plane, train, and automobile. Despite his well traveled status, each trip we take with him I feel like I'm learning something totally new.

Traveling with an infant is definitely a lot different than traveling with a toddler. This was the first time traveling with Leo where he was not dependent on breastfeeding/bottles for eating. He's just about 13 months, he eats real food, three times a day with a snack or two. I didn't think this would be a big deal. I packed some snacks and figured we would just get food in restaurants.

The problem is Captain America and I eat huge, gigantic, oh my gawd you are a fat American, meals on vacation. But we only eat once or twice a day. We started the morning with a typical vacay sized breakfast and were uncomfortably full. After swimming and an epic nap, Leo was hungry again so we headed out to lunch and ate another gigantic meal at a Mexican restaurant. Let's just say there were 5 items between two combo plates and leave it at that.

We go back to the hotel after scoring some new books and a puzzle at a Borders sale. Captain America took a nap and I entertained a crazy toddler. Then a few short hours later I say to my husband, "It's six o'clock, Leo needs to eat, we need to get dinner." He looked at me with pitiful eyes. We were still so full from breakfast and lunch but Leo was starting to flip his toddler shit so we headed out to a restaurant.

By the time we were seated and ordered, Leo was not having it at all. He alternated between a whine/cry and a staring us down with eyes that said "hey dumbasses, you have to feed me regularly or I will flip my toddler shit." Finally our food arrived, a meatball sandwich for me and a pizza for Captain America. The only reason I ordered a meatball sandwich was because it would be easy to share the meatballs with Leo. He's still too little for a kid's meal, he just doesn't eat that much food, so I usually share mine with him. The sight of the meatballs made me want to hurl but Leo was happy he finally got to eat. And since Captain America and I are like dogs, if you put food in front of us we will eat it no matter how sick we feel, we ate our food.

We ended up spending Saturday night in our hotel bed, whining and complaining about seriously uncomfortably full stomachs. Next trip I will definitely plan our eating better and more according to Leo's schedule. Captain America and I are on serious orders to slow down the eating. Eating three meals a day is fine if you don't completely pig out at each one. Ugh, my stomach still hurts. I'm looking forward to a week of grilled chicken breast and steamed veggies. Right after I finish my wine.

Who Knew?

2011-07-28T21:19:00.000-07:00

This week I am really rocking the mothering gig. First, for two nights in a row, the Beast ate nothing but cheesy poofs for dinner.

But they were organic cheesy poofs, so that is clearly excellent parenting.

Second was the incident with the spoon. The Beast is cutting molars (which is as fun as it sounds) and has been all over the place with eating (see above cheesy poof reference). Yesterday I was talking to his daycare teacher about what he ate for lunch. They had served rice and turkey. She was telling me that he wasn't excited about eating it and she had to help him eat it. I said, "so you finger fed it to him?" She responded that she helped him with the spoon. I said, "oh he doesn't use a spoon." She looked at me kinda strange and said, "he uses a spoon all the time." And then another teacher piped up, "he's really good with a spoon."

What. The. Hell. How did I not know my 13 month old uses a spoon? I have never even attempted giving him a spoon. I was just about to launch into full on research on when and how to introduce utensils. But he's already freaking using one? What else is he doing during the day I don't know about? Algebra? Is he driving? It is such a bizarre feeling to realize that my child does something during the day that I didn't know about it. But I'm proud of the little guy for being such a big boy with a spoon. Now if daycare wants to go ahead and potty train him and just hand him over one day with, "oh he uses the potty now," I'll be just fine with that.

I guess it really does take a village.

Stepping Out Saturday

2011-06-04T22:14:00.000-07:00

This blog I read does this fun little feature every Saturday called "Stepping Out Saturday." You are supposed to post a picture of your outfit from Saturday night and detail the pieces of the outfit. I've been looking at these posts for a while and I finally actually wore an outfit on Saturday.

Captain America, the Beast, and I went out for sushi with some friends.

Dress: H & M. Necklace and Cardigan: Brass Plum at Nordy's.

Shoes: Old Navy and surprisingly comfortable. No close up of the shoes because my toes are a disaster. My bulldogs get their nails done more often than I do. The Beast's polo is from Children's Place and cargo shorts are from Carter's (snagged for $10 on diapers.com). And no shoes for him because it was so gloriously sunny and warm! Plus he doesn't walk so there is really no need for shoes at this point.

The weather was seriously so awesome, we sat outside. The Beast had a great time. The restaurant was playing all sorts of songs from when I was in college and the Beast was rocking out. It was sort of surreal to listen to music that reminded me of frat parties and watch my little boy bop along to the music in his polo and cargo shorts. Oh Lord, am I creating a frat boy? I hope not! I guess it would be ok if he was a frat boy if he was all involved in philanthopy and the other b.s. that sororities and fraternities say to justify themselves. And yes, I'm a former sorority girl so I know all about these things.

If you ever want to truly realize how old and tired your skin looks, stick your face next to a baby. Yeah your skin is all perfect and such, come talk to me when you are in your 30s.

The Beast ate tofu and edamame and loved it! By the way, these disposable place mats are the best thing ever. They stick to the table and I can throw down cheerios, puffs, or whatever the Beast wants to eat. He's not eating off the dirty table and has his own little spot. Plus the pictures are fun to look at. They have made eating at restaurants so much easier.

This Saturday was the best we've had in a long time. We started the day at music and sign language class in Corona Del Mar which was really fun. We learned the signs to lots of different animals so now when I sing Old MacDonald, I can sign the animal along with the sound it makes. Then we met a friend and her son for lunch in Laguna Beach. It was a fun lunch with amazing food followed by a stroll along the boardwalk. Its days like this that make me really love living in Southern California.

A Male's Point of View

2011-06-03T22:28:00.000-07:00

Tonight I wanted to get a male perspective on the concept of the "mommy wars" and if men experienced the same conflict. My subject was my husband.

Me: Do you feel guilty that you work and do not stay home with the Beast?

Captain America: No.

Me: When people ask you "what do you do?" how do you respond?

Captain America: I'm a fucking civil litigator.

Me: You don't say you are a full time dad?

Captain America: ::looks at me like I'm insane:: No.

Me: Are you jealous of stay at home dads?

Captain America: Yes, they don't have to work.

Me: Do you know any stay at home dads?

Captain America: No.

Me: Have you experienced any "daddy wars?"

Captain America: No.

Me: Do you get upset when people label you as an attorney and not as a dad?

Captain America: Why are you asking these stupid questions? People that argue about that or make that a big issue are fucking self absorbed and trying to make themselves feel better.

I love him. And I'm adopting his attitude.

Never Say Never

2011-06-02T22:11:00.000-07:00

While I was pregnant, I was adamant about two things: (1) no pacifier after 12 months and (2) no cosleeping. The pacifier thing turned out to be a non-issue, the Beast was pretty much over it at 10 months (he's now 11 months). But I was dead set against cosleeping. I thought that parents should have their own space, that no one could sleep well when sharing a bed, that parents needed a chance to um, you know, do the things that got them in this situation in the first place. Also, I had fear of rolling over the baby and flattening him out like a pancake. I just could not wrap my head around why anyone would want to cosleep.

Everything started out so well. The Beast slept peacefully in his bassinet right next to my bed.

The Beast at about a week or two old.

At 6 weeks, he was sleeping through the night and in his own crib. What a perfect little baby! What a good mom I was! I didn't even have to sleep train, everything was so perfect!

Six weeks old and sleeping in his own crib!

And then he turned 6 months. And he started teething. And he got sick (with a cold). And he was miserable. And he wouldn't sleep so I wasn't sleeping. And we were all miserable.

One night, in an act of pure desperation, after many attempts to get him to go back to sleep in his crib, I plopped him down in my bed. He looked up at me, snuggled into my 400 thread count sheets, fell fast asleep, and slept through the night. I laid down next to him and actually got to sleep. It was a relief. It was glorious. It was how I became a cosleeper

Six months old and taking up residence in my bed.

Once I realized how easy it was to get him to go back to sleep if I just put him in the bed with me, there was no going back. I work full time and I need sleep in order to function and somehow adequately perform my job. So after the Beast turned 6 months, whenever he gets up in the middle of the night, I just pull him in bed with me and we both get to sleep. Then I learned how to nurse him while laying down in bed. Even better! Even less effort was required. I could bring him into the bed, nurse him, and get more sleep.

We don't cosleep every night. He starts off every night in his crib and if he wakes up then I bring him into my bed. I suppose you could say that I cosleep on demand. I have to admit, on nights that he doesn't wake up, I sort of miss having that little warm body snuggled up against me. He is now 11 months and I have no intention of ending the cosleeping. Lately he has been staying asleep in his crib until about 5 am. When he wakes up at this time, I am definitely ok with cosleeping because it means I get another hour of sleep. He is sturdy enough now that I don't worry about rolling over on him. And it is pretty funny to watch him wake up my husband by happily pouncing on him. Pretty soon he is going to be a big boy and have no interest in sharing a bed with me and the husband (Right? Kids don't cosleep until they are teenagers, right?)

The moral of the story is never say never about any parenting techniques while you are pregnant. You just have no idea the things you are willing to do when you are stressed out and sleep deprived.

I Wish I Had Known....

2011-05-19T21:55:00.000-07:00

I always planned on breastfeeding. When I got pregnant I knew it was what I wanted to do. I knew that I would be pumping at work. I knew that I didn't think formula was bad but I wanted to breastfeed my son. There are a million things I wish I had known before starting breastfeeding. That it would hurt in the beginning. That it would be stressful, not naturally easy, and totally rewarding.

What I really wish I had known was that it is not hard to nurse in public. I was so afraid to do it that I did not nurse my son in public until he was about five months old. I was so nervous about accidentally exposing myself or grossing someone out. I have no idea why, I spent four years in Santa Barbara with the girls on display for all to see. But the thought of someone actually seeing me nursing sent me running for the hills.

I had a hooter hider, I just was afraid to use it. I even practiced using it in front of my sister. The problem is I have giant boobs and I can't just discreetly pop open the nursing bra and feed my son. No, the entire boob has to come out and that is slightly off-putting for others.

For the first five months, I planned outings so that I wouldn't have to nurse or I brought a bottle. It was a huge pain in the ass. Then we went to Sea World and we were going to be gone for a long part of the day. By this time I had been back at work for 3 months and was beyond sick of washing bottles. So I decided I wasn't screwing around with bottles and packed the hooter hider. When it came time to feed him, I found a chair with arms (for support), slipped the cover on, and nursed away.

It was so easy! He was happy to eat, I was happy that there was no bottle to clean up. I couldn't believe I had waited so long to nurse in public. From that point on, I nursed him in restaurants, museums, even a bar (we were there during the day and its not like my boobs are strangers to bars).

Nursing in public turned out to be comfortable and easy. Now, I will say that at 10 1/2 months, nursing in public is somewhat of a struggle simply because the baby gets distracted. Also, I tend to nurse in public less because if we are at a restaurant he usually eats food. But I still enjoy having the confidence to run out of the house without a bottle, just my trusty hooter hider, knowing that I can feed my son on the run.

A Realization

2011-05-18T21:24:00.000-07:00

When I was a little baby attorney at one of my first jobs my boss told me that I needed to be more of a bulldog.

I needed to be tougher, more aggressive.

(Like Frank could ever be aggressive, he is such gentle soul.)

But I just wasn't aggressive. I was more passive aggressive. In my early 20s I was at a dance club, getting down with my bad self, and this really annoying drunk girl kept bumping into everyone on the dance floor. So I steathily bumped aka body-checked her and ran away. I had aggressive tendencies but I was just so damn non-confrontational.

Despite my lack of overt aggression, I became a mildly successful attorney. I was able to settle cases but it would take me forever. I would constantly second guess myself. In trial, I would turn red with embarrasment when I had to question witnesses.

And then something happened.

This little guy showed up.

And in a sleep deprived haze I becaming a working mama attorney. And I stopped having time to deal with bullshit. And I stopped tolerating the games that lawyers play. And I became aggressive.

I no longer sit through countless hours of mediation. If the deal is bad, I walk. I'm not afraid to call out other attorneys when they are being unethical or treating my client poorly. I am more sure of my arguments and unwilling to waver from my positions. While I love my job, I want to get through the day as quickly and efficiently as possible so I can get home to my son. I don't have time or the desire to bullshit about cases. I cut to the chase and get the job done. And I'm not afraid to go to the mattresses for a legal argument I believe in.

Plus, I don't have time for long, rambling meetings. I need to pump!

Somehow in becoming a mother I became a better attorney. In realizing that I am capable of taking care of another life, I realized that I am so capable of being an attorney. In being constantly strapped for time, I have become a faster thinker, a faster talker, and a faster problem-solver. All while maintaining the necessary accuracy.

Motherhood has brought many things to my life. And I am very happy that it has brought a no bullshit policy to me.

I Want, I Want, I Want

2011-05-17T21:27:00.000-07:00

I want to spend quality time with my son every day. Lots of it.

I want a rewarding career that leaves me fulfilled at the end of the day.

I want a clean house. I don't want to be the one to clean it.

I want to feel rested and confident.

I want to provide my family with home-cooked meals that are healthy and made with love.

I want to write.

I want my decisions validated.

I want to laugh.

I want to eat chocolate chip cookies with no consequences.

I want to surround myself with people who love and respect me.

I want to love and respect the people in my life.

I want my husband to always be in my corner.

I want my son to know that girls can be really kick ass lawyers.

I want to be a really kick ass lawyer.

I want to teach something to someone someday.

I want to read as many classics as I can get my hands on.

I want to watch my son grow up into an amazing man.

I want a big family.

I want my bulldogs to know how much I love them.

I want to dance.

I want my hair to look cute.

Looks like I've got my work cut out for me.

A Ridiculously Long Video

2011-04-17T08:57:00.000-07:00

This is a horribly long video that I'm simply posting for my sister. Although my kid and dog are pretty cute.

Addicted

2011-03-26T21:29:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is Cortney and I'm addicted to social media.
(For those who know me in real life, I am aware that I'm spelling my name wrong. I feel by omitting the "u" it makes me less searchable and therefore, more anonymous. Not that anyone is really looking for me.)

Back to my addiction. It started with AOL Instant Messenger. My family didn't have the internet while I was in high school. We had a computer, but no internet. Um, how old am I that I didn't have internet in high school? Anyways, when I went away to college I had the ethernet in my dorm and my parents signed up for AOL. All of a sudden I had access to the internet and instant messenger. Right away, I fell in love. I was able to have conversations with all my high school friends and I so desperately missed them during my freshman year. It was just so amazing. Email still seemed so foreign to me and I love the "real-time" aspect of the IM. I happily IMed all through college.

Then I went to law school and was introduced to myspace. Be still my gossipy little heart. I could look at friend's pictures, read their "about me," and see what they wrote on each other's pages? I rocked my myspace. I had a cute background that was so "me." I changed my song to match my mood. I had a ton of friends. I posted cute pictures on my friend's pages. I wasted many a law school class happily playing on myspace.

Then I became a lawyer and myspace seemed a little young. Now I was posting my honeymoon pictures on my facebook and not even checking my myspace page. Facebook allowed me to reconnect with some great friends and to keep in touch with family that lived out of state.

A couple years after that, I started blogging and reading other people's blogs. It felt liberating to write again, even it was only inane dribble that only my family read.

And then I met twitter. At first I was a little afraid of it. I didn't quite understand it. I got the "wall" and "status update" with facebook. I didn't understand why I also needed twitter. But I signed up and sent out a couple of tweets and promptly forgot about it.

And then I became a working mother and OH MY GAWD do I love my twitter! I'm obsessed with it. I follow many working moms that I have found through their blogs. I also follow Perez Hilton and Anderson Cooper because I like to stay informed (I figure if Perez and/or Anderson are not talking about it then I don't need to know about it).

My love for the twitter really comes from the working moms that I follow. I don't belong to any working moms groups. I don't need to meet with other working moms on the weekend when I'm with my family and can actually forget the stresses of being a working mom. I need the support of other working moms on Wednesdays, when work sucks, it is still the middle of the week, I have baby snot smeared on the shoulder of my suit, I get a call from daycare telling me that my son has pinkeye, and I have to file a motion by 5pm. That is when I need to know that there are other working moms out there, struggling with the same issues as me. And that is why I love twitter. Because I see what other working moms post. I hear about their good days and their bad ones. With a quick glance at my blackberry, I can feel validated that it is ok to work and be a mother. That I am not the only mother who put their child in daycare and that working mothers can thrive despite the difficulty of it all. Twitter brings a sense of community right to my office when I need it the most.

While I may not know the people I follow in real life, it is so comforting to know that I am not the only one trying to balance everything. So I check my twitter frequently. Hell, I check my facebook frequently too. I deleted the myspace a while ago. That went the way of low-rise sparkle jeans. Fun while it lasted but it was time to move on. I love the connection with friends and family that facebook brings and I love the connection with other working moms that twitter brings. I'm totally addicted to my social media and I'm ok with that.

Everything is Fine?

2011-03-22T20:49:00.000-07:00

The other day I pulled into my office's parking lot at the same time as my co-worker. We walked into the building together, me carrying my oh-so-discrete tote bag/pump. She asked me how the pumping was going and I said fine. She replied, "you make it look so effortless, I was a mess when I pumped."

Well that couldn't be further from the truth. The truth is pumping is a huge pain in the ass. The truth is that it isn't going fine. I struggle to find time in the day to pump three times. I am forced to supplement with formula (not that formula is bad but I hate to supplement when I'm going to all this trouble.) But if someone asks me how it is going, I will always say fine because that is how I always respond to such questions. Anytime I am asked how things are going I always say fine no matter what. On one hand I generally think that when people throw out the casual "how are you?" they really don't want to hear an in-depth, 15 minute long diatribe about my life. On the other hand I really hate admitting when things are not perfect.

But I am so very not perfect. A lot of the time I'm tired and cranky. I eat a ton of junk food. I don't clean my bathrooms often enough. I am terrible with money. Sometimes I'm not very nice to my husband. Although in my defense, today we got into a fight over who was going to pick up the dog poop (which is supposed to be his chore). Instead of telling him to go eff himself and don't bother coming home from work (which I seriously wanted to say I was so mad), I just picked up the poop myself. He then apologized and everything was fine. Although I did tell him he was a lazy f*ck. See, I'm so not perfect! I just can't do it!

I wish I could say that I will stop trying to appear perfect but I know I won't. My house will remain a mess, I will swear at my husband, eat at McDonald's and I will spend too much money at Target on things I don't need. Maybe one day, when I'm old and wearing my frumpy purple dress with my crazy red hat, I'll finally stop trying to appear perfect. Until then, I'll keep saying that everything is just "fine."

Some Free Time

2011-03-21T19:59:00.000-07:00

Dinner has been eaten and cleaned up. Baby is bathed, fed, and asleep. Bottles are prepped for tomorrow. Holy freaking crap, I have some free time! What do I do? I don't even remember what to do with this thing called free time. I think I'll blog, drink wine, and watch some reality t.v. Hello, free time. I've missed you so.

I don't really have a coherent blog in mind, so here are some random thoughts that have been floating through my head:

- I love when traffic is light but it also freaks me out. I always think, "where the hell is everyone?" "Did I miss a warning?" "Is it Saturday?"

- I'm done buying expensive shoes. My nice shoes get trashed just as fast as my Target shoes. And I have broken the heels on three pairs of shoes trying to get the damn carseat in and out of the car. That kid is heavy! So I'm sticking to Target shoes.

- Captain America and I usually sit on opposite ends of the couch while watching t.v. He's sitting right next to me right now and it's weirding me out.

- The Beast is crawling. Frontwards and backwards. And he's getting fast. And he keeps going after dog toys. And he's proven that my childproofing attempts are the stuff of amateurs.

- This past weekend I went shopping in the juniors department at Nordstrom's (Brass Plum). Two of the sales girls said to me, "OMG, I love your sweater, I totally have it too!" Which made me think, "heck yeah, I'm not that old," and "um, do I look like I'm trying too hard to look young?"

- We attended my grandpa's 80th birthday party this past weekend. I hope when I turn 80 I'm surrounded by friends and family like he was.

- I need to stop dying my hair blond. The roots maintenance is killing me.

- I'm sick of getting cc'ed on nasty-gram emails at work. I don't like tattle-tales.

- I think I enjoy watching Yo Gabba Gabba more than the Beast.

Ok, my mind is now empty and Dancing with the Stars is on. Gotta go!

A Helluva Day...In A Good Way

2011-03-09T20:23:00.000-08:00

Today was a rockin' working momma day. I feel the need to document this kind of day because all too often there are drag you down, knock you out kind of working momma days and I want to remember that there are good days.

The Beast had a pretty early wake up call at 5am but he was happy so I didn't mind too much. I pulled him in the bed with the husband and myself and let him crawl over us while we woke up.

Drop off at daycare was uneventful. He was asleep and I left him in his crib looking like a peaceful little angel. My day at work was just so-so. I had a bit of a "zone out" period this afternoon because I was pretty tired after getting up so early. But I got some work done, had a few good laughs with co-workers, and had a decent lunch.

I realize that my day sounds mediocre so far but I rocked it after work. We had absolutely no food in the house. I mean I couldn't even scrape together grilled cheese and tomato soup. I just could not bring myself to eat take out one more time so I decided that I would have to go to the store after picking up the Beast from daycare. Not only would I have to go to the store but I would have to cook the dinner. Normally, I have a strict "we must go straight home from daycare" policy. I want to be able to enjoy every possible moment with my son after work so I never ever run errands after work with him. Plus, after daycare is the countdown time to bedtime and the Beast can get a little, well, beastly.

Despite my apprehension I thought I would give going to the grocery store after daycare a shot. I picked up the Beast, who had a great day at daycare, and headed to the store. At the store I strapped him in the ergo because I had just read an article that grocery store carts are covered in fecal matter and e. coli. Um, how disgusting is that? I don't even want to know how fecal matter gets on the cart but I was not about to put my son in such a filth ridden contraption.

Walking around the store with the Beast in the ergo was actually really fun. He got to look at all the bright things and I explained to him all the stuff I was buying. I got lots of friendly smiles as I walked around with my baby strapped to my chest. At home I managed to cook chicken parm, feed the Beast some homemade green beans (which he actually ate!), get in some playtime, have a fun bath, and put him to bed. I have since enjoyed my chicken parm and I'm watching Miss Congeniality while drinking a glass of wine. Not too freaking bad.

Of course nothing is perfect. I had to enjoy my dinner alone because my poor husband is at urgent care with a horrific sinus infection. But he finally got medicine so he can stop being so damn disgusting with all his snot aka feel better. Whew, now I'm tired. Back to my chick flick and wine.

November and December 2010

2011-02-22T22:45:00.001-08:00

Click here to view this photo book larger

Hello Again

2011-02-09T20:45:00.000-08:00

Wow, it has been over a month since I've blogged. Let me update you on what has been going on: work is crazy busy, I'm tired, the Beast is adorable, my house is a mess, the husband is doing well but is slacking off on picking up the dog poop, and the bullies are somewhere around here sleeping.

This past month has been insane. The Beast had a really horrible chest infection, Mickey had eye and nose surgery, I have been in trial, the husband's work has been insane. As I always say, I am going to try to be better about writing because I really do enjoy it; but, I make no promises.

And as a further cop out here are a couple of videos:

The first one is the Beast playing with his Christmas present from Uncle Chris. I can't get over that he's big enough to play with toys now.

And this one features a baby, a monkey, two bullies, and a whole lotta dirty laundry.

I told you my house was a mess and now there is video evidence to prove it.

And I just realized on the first video you can hear the husband nagging me to feed the dogs. Even though he is just sitting there on the couch while I am playing with the baby. Ok, so my house is a mess and my marriage isn't perfect. At least my kid is cute.

Six Months!

2011-01-06T20:53:00.000-08:00

The Beast is six months old! He is 17 pounds and something ounces (I can't remember what the doctor said) and in the 50th percentile for weight and 28 inches long and in the 90th percentile for height. If I end up with a tall, skinny kid I am going to laugh (seeing as I am very not tall or skinny).

I can't believe he is six months old, he just such an amazing little boy and the light of my.....blah, blah, blah. Y'all he's teething. (Note the fake southern accent, means I'm freaking exhausted).

I always thought people were being overly dramatic when they talked about their babies teething but now I realize that they are not, they speak the truth - teething is pure hell.

He's not sleeping, he's crying, there is little I can do to make him feel better. Its frustrating, heartbreaking, and nerve wracking.

And the drool. So much drool. There is drool everywhere.

Last weekend was the worst of it. All he did was fuss, cry, and nurse. I didn't get much done that weekend. He seems to be getting a little better and starting to act like his usual happy self.

When he is not teething, he is a very sweet and happy baby. He is still not rolling but the doctor said she wasn't concerned with that. He can sit and is starting to manipulate toys. He makes funny little sounds and laughs a lot. Especially at the bullies.

And I'm going to give myself a little shout out here, the Beast is six months which means I have been breastfeeding for six months. I'm pretty proud of myself since I didn't think I would make it six weeks. It makes me happy that I am able to do this for my son and it eases my working mom guilt just slightly. I've become a stealth ninja pumper. I've pumped in parking lots, parking garages, bathrooms, and other people's offices. I've even started nursing in public. Mainly because I'm too lazy to deal with bottles. We are going to continue with breastfeeding with the goal of making it to a year. The Beast does get formula occasionally but I try to make sure that he mainly gets breastmilk. So far it is working for us.

P.S. These pictures of the Beast are totally crappy because I have a totally crappy camera. For those of you who are reading this (which is mainly my family), I want best buy gift cards for my birthday (which is coming up) so that I can finally buy the fancy camera I want. That's all I want. Best buy gift cards. Don't forget. No other presents are necessary. Just the best buy gift cards. So Dad, tell Mom that is what I want.

Another First

2010-12-14T20:29:00.000-08:00

Today the Beast had his first solid. It wasn't exactly a solid, it was rice cereal with breastmilk and it was practically liquid. But he was excited and I was excited too. It is just another indicator of how big my little baby is getting. Which makes it exciting and scary.

We don't really eat around the Beast. Sometimes I put him in the high chair while I eat my cereal but for that to happen the morning has to be going absolutely perfectly and completely on time. My breakfast is usually cookies in the car or driving through McDonalds. And we don't eat dinner around him because I want to spend my time with him in the evening playing and having fun in the bath, not cooking dinner and eating.

Now I see the result of not eating around him, he had no idea what to do with the spoon or the cereal. I don't know if eating around him would have helped the situation but it was pretty funny to watch him just spit the cereal out.

I think he enjoyed chewing on the spoon the most. We'll try again tomorrow. I can't wait till he is ready for sweet potato, I love sweet potatoes!

Happy Birthday Captain America

2010-12-13T21:27:00.000-08:00

Today is Captain America's 30th Birthday! What an old man! (Please disregard the fact that I am already 30 and will be 31 this March).

Happy Birthday to a man who is loving, wonderful, loyal, sarcastic, a great dancer, stubborn as a mule, the pickiest eater I have ever met, hard working, seriously smart, a great attorney, a fantastic father (to the Beast and the bullies), a dreamer, expert traveler, and just an all around great guy*.

I hope you had a great birthday and I promise you the next year is going to be amazing!

*If only he would do dishes and laundry, then he would be even greater. Maybe too great.

No Time

2010-12-13T20:32:00.000-08:00

I am not an overly confident person. When driving, I always turn around, thinking I'm lost, just to realize that if I had gone just a little further on my original course I would have reached my destination. I change my outfit at least twice before leaving the house. Between my wardrobe changes and the Beast's spit-up, mornings can get pretty interesting. I'm no stranger to second guessing, changing my mind, and asking for other's opinions.

But one thing motherhood, particularly working motherhood, has taught me is to be confident. To be sure in my decisions, not constantly question myself, and not care what others think about my decisions. Because I am just too damn tired and stressed out and pulled in a million different directions at one time to be anything else.

You want to judge me because I went back to work when the Beast was 9 weeks old? Sorry, don't have time for you. I'm too busy being a lawyer and raising a happy, healthy baby. You think I'm poisoning my baby because I supplement breastfeeding with formula? Don't have time for you either; plus, if you think that you are insane. You think my house isn't clean enough? I don't cook enough? I don't eat enough vegetables? My baby should be in cloth diapers? Yep, you guessed it, I don't have time for all of you either. I'm busy listening to my baby giggle, winning motions, and laughing with my husband.

Don't get me wrong, all of my parenting decisions have been carefully researched, pros and cons weighed, and input received from the husband. I am confident in all my decisions so that I don't have to deal with those who question them. I don't claim to be a perfect mother. Or a perfect wife or a perfect lawyer. Heck, there are dirty dishes all over the kitchen, dirty laundry all over my bedroom, the Beast is wearing the same pjs he wore last night because I didn't' feel like doing his laundry, and I did most of my Christmas shopping online while at work today. And if you want to judge me for that? Too bad. I don't have time for that.

Sea World

2010-12-12T20:13:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Captain America's 30th birthday. To celebrate, we went to Sea World this past weekend. I know, crazy way to celebrate the big 3-0. But we wanted to do something with the Beast and we have been wanting to go to Sea World for a long time so it worked out. But on the way there I started to think, "what the hell am I thinking, taking a 5 month old to an amusement park???? How am I going to change his diaper? Feed him? What if he freaks out?" In the end, there was nothing to worry about, the Beast did great. He took a few stroller naps and was pretty content while we were there. I even nursed him in public (with the help of a hooter hider)!

We started off with the Shamu show, we did not sit in the splash zone. I will never sit in the splash zone. That water is nasty. You don't know what those whales are doing in that water. There isn't enough purel in the world for me to sit in the splash zone.

We sat pretty high up so I'm not sure if the Beast could really see it but he appeared to be watching intently. I'm not gonna lie, I got all teary eyed watching the show. There were 3 "shamus" and it looked like a daddy, a mommy, and a baby. I have no idea if they are related or how they are related but I was so happy to be with my little family and I just couldn't believe that Captain America and I were sitting there with our son. So yea, I got emotional, it's a good thing I wear big, black sunglasses.

Captain America and I used to rule the self portrait. Turns out it is really hard to take a good picture of yourself when there are three involved.

One of the really cool things about Sea World is that there are a lot of interactive exhibits. You can play in the tide pools, pet the bat rays, and the dolphins. Captain America was very excited about the bat rays and he got to pet a starfish. It is so cute when he acts like a big kid. I touched a bat ray and ran away shrieking like a dumb girl. In my defense, it was really slimy.

Captain America and I really enjoyed Sea World. The Beast? Well who knows how much he really got out of it but he does love aquariums. He stares at the fish and follows them as they swim around. Note to family: this does not mean we want a fish. We don't. Do not buy us a fish.

Could this fish be any uglier? Yuck.

I absolutely love sea lions. They remind me of my bullies. Some are fat and lazy like my Frank and some are in your face like my Mickey.

This guy has some attitude. I respect that.

We had a great day at Sea World. And thank the good Lord that we have family that live in San Diego. We were able to drop off the bullies and then spend the night at their house. It makes things so much easier when we have the bullies taken care of. Although I have learned that I just cannot sleep with the Beast in the same room. And he can't either. Sometimes I feel a slight twinge of guilt that we don't cosleep. Like I should be snuggling my baby at all possible times. But then I have a night with him in the same room and no one is getting any sleep. He makes so much damn noise during the night which wakes me up to check on him and then he wakes up. It is an ugly cycle.

This is the Beast's 5 month picture. He's actually just about 5 1/2 months. Which is insane. He's becoming more of his own person every day and it blows my mind.

Five Months

2010-12-05T21:53:00.000-08:00

The Beast turned 5 months this week. Normally, I would take his monthy picture with some kind of "5" marker in the picture but I can't find my freaking camera. I have a baby and no camera. Horrible. I know it is somewhere in the house. The last time I had it was the other morning when I tried to take a picture of the bullies because they were squished in the same bed together and it was so cute. Anyway, since I don't have any pictures here is a little video.

The Beast is still a happy, smiley baby. He laughs a lot now. He loves the songs Jingle Bell and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. That is probably because those are the only Christmas songs I know by heart so I keep singing them over and over again. He has rolled over but doesn't seem to care to do it again for the time being. He does scoot himself all over his crib. And he's getting close to being able to sit on his own.

We haven't started solids yet but I think that we will in the next couple of weeks. My doctor gave me the go ahead at 4 1/2 months. I was all excited and ran to Target to buy little spoons and rice cereal. And then I just felt like it was too early and I didn't want to interfere with breastfeeding so I waited.

I'm not sure how much he weighs. The only method I have for weighing him is weighing myself first and then weighing myself holding him and figuring out the difference. I don't really care to weigh myself right now so I'll just wait till his 6 months appointment to see how much he weighs.

There is the five month update for the Beast. This post was primarily written for my family. If you are not related to the Beast this was probably rather boring. My apologies.

Rough

2010-12-01T21:21:00.000-08:00

Today was a rough day for me. Emotionally it was exhausting. As I drove away from daycare I was really missing the Beast. Now, I always miss him but some days are more bearable than others. This was one of the non-bearable days. I think it was due in part to the fact that I was really tired and just wanted to lay in bed and snuggle with my baby.

Then, while checking my facebook on my blackberry in traffic, I saw a post by my dear cousin about World AIDS Day and remembering my Uncle Robert who passed away from complications due to AIDS in 1995. I knew World AIDS Day was today but I will admit it was not at the front of my mind. Well the facebook post brought it front and center. Cue tears on my morning commute.

Then I went to a funeral mass for my boss's mother. I did not know her but I wanted to pay my respects and show my support for my boss. It was a beautiful service and touching and made me really think about life, love, and family. Because I needed more heavy thoughts in my head.

Anyways, I started the day thinking about my uncle and the funeral mass brought me back to that. My uncle was the coolest thing I could ever imagine. He rocked a mean mohawk and dyed it all colors of the rainbow (he may be the reason why I'm obsessed with coloring my hair). He took us to Disneyland and El Capitan. He wrapped our Christmas presents in foil and newspaper which I thought was just awesome. He was and is a great uncle and I wish I had gotten the chance to know him better.

The work day seemed to drag on forever and ever as I alternated between memories of my uncle and missing my baby. At the end of the day I got to snuggle my baby but my uncle was still gone. There have been so many great developments in the fight against AIDS and I wish these had been present when they could have been useful to my uncle. But I hope that the fight against AIDS continues to be successful so that children get a chance to grow up with their uncles, mothers, fathers, siblings, and that the world, someday, gets to live without the pain of AIDS.

Thanksgiving.

2010-11-28T21:04:00.000-08:00

I think it is safe to say that I failed miserably at my little thanksgiving blog project. I thought it would be a fun exercise to really think about everything I am thankful for but I ended up just being too busy to write every day. I guess in the end I am glad that I have such a full life that I didn't have time to write every day. Plus it was kind of a cheesy project and I'm really not that sappy despite the fact that I'm currently watching the movie Valentine's Day (I am also trying to not throw up in my mouth while watching said movie).

With that being said I had an amazing Thanksgiving weekend. I had Wednesday off at work so I had lunch with my sister and grandparents and did a little shopping with the sister.

How cute is my little rascally raccoon?

Early Thursday morning we headed down to San Diego and by "we" I mean, me, the husband, the baby, the bullies, two sets of golf clubs, enough diapers to last a year, a pack n play, a stroller, a huge dish of mac n cheese, and all of our bags. Our car looked like a joke. We spent the weekend with my husband's family. Thursday to Saturday. Three days of nothing but family. It was fun but draining.

My husband's family has all these fun traditions. Every Thanksgiving they have a putt putt tournament, play games, do the chicken dance, have a talent show, and so forth. Everyone is welcome to this gathering so there is always someone new to meet.

The Beast had his first appearance in the putt putt tournament. He was none too pleased. I really only participated in the putt putt tournament. During every other function I was nursing the Beast who seemed to eat every freaking two hours the whole weekend.

The weekend was a lot of fun but three days of family is exhausting. It was hard being away from home with a baby, his routine was thrown off, I didn't have my breastfeeding pillow (seriously essential to breastfeeding), we tried to sleep with Mickey in the room and she kept us up all night with her snoring. And there were a lot of people there this weekend. The Beast did great with the crowd. He was smiling and laughing the whole time. It was me that didn't fare so well. By the time we left I was freaking sick of people asking me if I was nursing (seriously why do people care?), when I was going to start solids, if he likes his daycare, is it hard to go to work, and many, many other questions regarding my parenting.

And of course I get asked really great questions like, "when does your diet start?" or "how much weight did you gain while pregnant? You were huge!" Um, how about mind your own damn business? And then I told off a lady in her 80s. Not exactly my proudest moment. I was holding the Beast and walked outside of the house to talk to someone. This lady comes running after me and says, "it's cold, the baby needs a blanket." It was 11 am, sunny and brisk, but definitely not cold. I politely declined and said that we were fine. She kept telling me that the baby needed a blanket and that it was cold. I heard this about three or four times. I finally sternly said, "he's my son, don't tell me what he needs." Awesome, way to be a bitch to the little old lady who, while super annoying, was just trying to help.

After that incident I promptly told the husband that I was done and we were going home. And to top it all off there were a million kids there who played way too rough with our dogs. Frank sprained his leg so he got extra attention from Captain America. Captain America who tore the kids a new one for playing too rough with the dogs.

So by the end of the weekend we were the assholes who yell at old ladies and little kids. At least our kid is cute.

We eventually got home and I got our Christmas cards orders, took care of three presents, put up all the decorations, and actually did all the laundry. I'm exhausted but my tree is lit and I'm drining a Sierra Nevada Celebration beer. Bring on the Christmas!

Shutterfly

2010-11-17T19:05:00.001-08:00

Hi There.

Today I am pimping out my little ol' blog to get 50 free holiday cards from shutterfly. Why? Because I send out like a million holiday cards and stamps keep going up in price and it gets real expensive, real fast. And since I basically sign over my entire paycheck to student loans and daycare, I could use a little break.

I just started using shutterfly and so far I am quite pleased. I have ordered a couple of their photo books and they turned out really cute. It was shockingly easy too. I uploaded a bunch of pictures and then the book maker thingy just formatted them. You can rearrange the pictures and add captions. Since I refuse to scrapbook this is pretty much the only way that I can ensure the Beast will have some kind of photographic evidence of his childhood. And you can import your pictures on facebook directly to shutterfly which is totally awesome. Shutterfly is great for just order prints as well.

So I like shutterfly and think you should try them out. Ok, where are my free cards?

Catch-Up

2010-11-14T21:17:00.000-08:00

I am so woefully behind on my little thankful project. I do think it is better to play catch-up rather than just give up the project entirely. Here is my quickie way to catch-up:

Day Ten:

Let's see this was Wednesday. On Wednesday I was thankful that, oh lord, I can't even remember what happened on Wednesday. I went to work, I know that much. I hung out with the Beast, that's a given. I guess I am thankful I just made it through this day because clearly I was on auto-pilot and don't remember the day!

Day Eleven:

This was Veteran's Day. On this day I was thankful for all the brave men and women who have done so much for our country. I really have a lot of respect and admiration for these dedicated people and am very thankful that they protect our country, our freedom, our way of life.

Day Twelve:

This was Friday and I was thankful that my husband finally came home after another week in Arkansas. And he brought me a travel coffee mug from the Bill Clinton museum. I love me some Slick Willie and I love me some coffee. Now I can enjoy both together! Thanks Captain America!

Day Thirteen:

This was Saturday and I was thankful for some time with my husband, some time with my baby, and a trip to the mall to get the Beast's picture taken with Santa. Yea I know I am crazy early but there was absolutely no line. Have you seen the line for Santa in the mall during December? I was not going to stand in a two hour line with a baby so we got that holiday outing marked off our list.

Day Fourteen:

And we are caught up to today. Today my friends from college came over to my house for a little lunch get together. I am very thankful for my friends and the fact that we have stayed friends since college. We have gone through so much together and they are just awesome ladies. Plus, it is so much fun to reminisce about our crazy college days. It is nice to be reminded that I once went out to bars and danced and got crazy. Especially now that I go to bed at 9pm and getting crazy means having two glasses of chardonnay instead of my normal one glass.

Ok, technically I'm caught up on my project. And my house is relatively clean. And I have a Christmas tree up in my house. And I got through all the laundry. And I hosted a luncheon for my friends. And I went on a date with my husband on Saturday. Whew, this was quite the weekend!

Day Nine

2010-11-09T21:16:00.001-08:00

I am thankful for sleep, which I am in desperate need of right now.

Goodnight!

Day Eight

2010-11-08T20:32:00.000-08:00

I am thankful for the Beast's daycare. I am thankful for his teachers who truly love him and look after him while I'm at work. I'm thankful for the director who is also a new mom and understands when I am teary eyed after dropping him off. I am thankful for the detailed reports they give me about his day and the smiles he has when he sees his teacher in the morning. I am thankful for the peace of mind that my baby is in good hands while I am at work.

That being said, sometimes his daycare drives me crazy. I understand the need to be cautious but sometimes they get a little carried away. Right now the Beast is obsessed with sucking/chewing on his hands. Sometimes his hands are not enough and he sucks on his arm. Well the other day he gave himself a hickey doing this. Daycare called me at work to tell me about the mark on his arm. I asked, is it a rash? They said no. Is it a scratch? No. Is it bleeding? No. Do I need to pick him up? No. Then why the hell are you calling me at work?!?! When I picked him up and finally saw the infamous mark, I realized that it was from him sucking on his arm. I had to sign an incident report for my kid giving himself a hickey. The next day I went to Target and cleared them out of pacifiers and teethers. But really? Don't call me at work for such a silly little thing.

Today I got a call because they couldn't find his diapers and needed permission to use another kid's diaper. I thought, why are they calling me? Just put a diaper on his bum, he'll be fine! I suppose there are some moms that would flip out if their little darling's tushy touched a different brand of diaper than he was used to. I am not that kind of mom.

And while I love getting the detailed reports about his day, there is no need to blow sunshine up my behind. I want to know how many naps and for how long, how many bottles he drank, and how many wet/dirty diapers. I do not need to hear "the Beast enjoyed making new friends." Um, he's a baby people. He doesn't make friends or play with friends. He doesn't even engage in parallel play (oooh fancy developmental term).

All in all, I really like the Beast's daycare. Even if they are a little over the top.

Day Seven

2010-11-07T19:53:00.001-08:00

I am thankful for weekends.

So obvious yet so true. I am so very thankful for two whole uninterrupted days with my family. I am thankful for being able to spend the entire day with the Beast and especially thankful for being able to go back to sleep after his 5am wake up call.

I am thankful for walks around the neighborhood with the Beast in his big boy stroller all bundled up. Ok, this hasn't been the case lately because it is freaking a million degrees in Southern California in November! Al Gore may have been right...

I am thankful for watching my boys watch football together. I am especially thankful when Michigan wins because then I don't have to deal with a fussy husband.

Starting this weekend, I am thankful for eating breakfast with my big boy sitting in his highchair beside me. He is not ready to join in the eating fun yet but having his highchair in the kitchen has been great. I was able to sit down and eat breakfast while he played. I cleaned the kitchen and cooked a lasagna while he watched me. I even sang songs and did little dances to keep him entertained. I got so much more done this weekend with him in the kitchen with me.

Every weekend I am thankful to run errands with my husband. First, I like running errands because I like getting stuff done and errands almost always include a trip to Target, my happy place. Second, I just really like running errands with my husband. Isn't that a little weird? I feel like we have had some great conversations while at Home Depot about our plans for the future (which includes painting our bedroom and office), grabbing lunch always ends up being a really pleasant meal, and sometimes we go to open houses just to keep tabs on the real estate market and for fun which always results into an in depth conversation about what we want in a home. Plus, you see some crazy decor in these open houses. We've seen wall-to-wall zebra carpet and the freaky wall of porcelain d0lls (not in the same house thankfully).

Even though the weekends are always too short, I am extremely thankful for them.

Days Four, Five, and Six

2010-11-06T12:44:00.000-07:00

Good Lord I fell behind on my little project. Its not my fault, I swear. This week has been crazy at work and the husband was in Arkansas all week so it was just me and the Beast and the bullies to fend for ourselves.

For days four, five, and six, I am thankful that there are little things in the world that make me happy and brighten my day. I am thankful that I am able to find joy in small pleasures. That I have not become so cynical and stressed out that I lost the ability to stop and smell the roses. Here are a few of my favorite (little things):

1. Starbucks - I know its so yuppie and cliche, but seriously Starbucks can pull me out of a deep funk anytime. I freaking love it. Pumpkin spice lattes, iced coffee, peppermint mocha, zen green tea (veinte, two bags, and an inch of soy). It is just so damn good and consistent. I can walk into any Starbucks and know that I will receive a little piece of happiness.

2. Bad pop music - In high school I was really into alternative rock, punk, and ska. I loved Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, Lagwagon, Save Ferris, the Aquabats, and a bunch of little indie bands. I didn't listen to any pop music. In fact, I can't even tell you what the pop music existed when I was in high school. I'm making up for lost time now. I love me so Britney, Taylor and Katie. I don't care if it is crap (and it is). This week I had a particularly rough morning dropping the Beast off at daycare. He watched me leave the room and it broke my heart. But I got myself an iced coffee and turned on the radio. Hello Britney! Before I knew, it I was rocking out to Britney (with full on car dancing) and feeling much better.

3. Granola Bars - Specifically, Quaker 90 calorie chocolate chip granola bars. I am obsessed with these. I eat them constantly and they are only 90 calories. And granola is good for you. Its a win all around.

I am definitely going to get back on track with my project tomorrow. Now I need a nap because I was at the dentist at 8am this morning, got 2 cavities filled, and then got a speeding ticket on the way home. Awesome. I might need a latte, some Britney, and a granola bar to make this day better.

Day Three

2010-11-03T21:22:00.001-07:00

*Please note that the things I am thankful for are posted in no particular order. Each thing that I am thankful for has its own special place and is its given due weight.

Today I am thankful for my job. Hell, I'm thankful just to have a job these days; but I am thankful for my particular job. Unfortunately, I cannot go into too many details here about my job. But I will say that I am an attorney and I work in education.

I am thankful to have a job that I love. I am thankful that I have a job that helps people and that gives me a sense of purpose. I am thankful that I get to use my analytical skills, research skills, writing skills, negotiation skills, communication skill, and people skills every day.

I am thankful that my office is supportive of me being a new mom and did not care when I took off two days in my first month to take care of the Beast when he was sick. I am thankful that no one has walked in on me while pumping.

So there is my Day Three, I am thankful for my job. And with that being said, is it Friday yet?

A Little Truth

2010-11-02T21:55:00.000-07:00

I read a lot of blogs and message boards about being a working mom. I'm always interested to see how other moms deal with juggling careers and motherhood, how they get everything done, and somehow manage to not go crazy.

In this reading I see a lot of working moms write about the advantages of being a working mother. While I think there are many advantages, I think some things need to be cleared up. Here is my list of the advantages of being a working mom and the truth behind them.

1. Working moms get to eat a hot lunch every day.

This is partially true. I do eat a hot lunch every day. But it is a hot lean cuisine. And it is more like a lukewarm lean cuisine because I cannot possibly wait the entire three minutes for my lean cuisine to finish in the microwave. And I eat it at my desk. Not exactly glamorous. My hot lunch is nothing to brag about but I would rather spend five minutes scarfing down a lean cuisine than taking an hour and half lunch and having to stay at work later to make up that time.

2. Working moms get to have adult conversations.

Again, this is partially true. I do talk to adults while at work. But I'm an attorney so most of my adult conversations consist of me calmly explaining to people the appropriate and legal way to do things and hearing their excuses as to why they did not follow the law. And then I get to talk to opposing counsel which is the equivalent of listening to a bratty kid whine and stomp their feet.

3. Working moms get to pee alone.

This one is not true. I get to use a bathroom with a row of stalls. And even though there are about ten stalls and they are all open, someone always decides they have to use the stall next to the one I am in. Awkward. I work in a very large office building and people do weird things in the bathroom. Like brush their teeth and then just put their toothbrush on the counter....of the public restroom. Um, disgusting. And I always see the one lady who must wipe down all the counters before she leaves. So weird.

4. Working moms get to dress up every day.

Again, partially true. I do get to dress up every day which means I'm back to spending $200 a month on my freaking dry cleaning bill. I miss wearing work maternity clothes. Everything was cotton and stretchy and could be washed at home. And comfy, so comfy.

And now you know the truth. Don't get me wrong, there are pluses to being a working mom (a paycheck, sense of fulfillment, etc.) and I'm loving my new role in life but I had to clear the air just a bit.

Day Two

2010-11-02T21:36:00.000-07:00

I am thankful for my husband and everything he does for our family. I complain a lot that he does nothing. It is true that he does not vacuum, do dishes, do laundry, or make the bed. But when it comes down to the nitty gritty, the really important stuff, he makes sure that everything is ok. Plus he picks up the dog poop and I would much rather vacuum than pick up the dog poop.

When there are tough decisions to make, tough issues to deal with, he is always there, leading the way. He works hard for our family and I am very thankful for that.

And I am thankful that when we go to weddings and I have too much Chardonnay, he is always willing to take weird pictures with me and deal with my tipsy (aka drunk) ramblings.

Day One

2010-11-02T21:07:00.000-07:00

I have a friend on facebook who is posting something she is thankful for on facebok every day for the month of November. I thought that was a good idea and I could use a reality check on all the things in my life that I am thankful for, so here I go. (I know it is November 2nd, I'm a day behind so I'll post two things that I'm thankful for today.)

The first one is easy...I am thankful for my son. So absolutely and completely thankful. I am thankful that he is happy and healthy, that he sleeps through the night, that he is all smiles when he sees me and when I give him kisses.

I am thankful for all the coos and babbles and little baby shrieks.

I am thankful that he has given me excuses to buy toys, watch cartoons, and plan trips to Sea World.

I am so thankful that my amazing little boy is in my life. Even when he gives me the stink eye for putting him in a puffy dragon costume.

Happy Anniversary To Us!

2010-10-11T20:33:00.000-07:00

Today is our wedding anniversary. We have been married two years, have been a couple for about four years, and have know each other for about seven years.

In this time I have watched Captain America become an attorney, a husband, and a father. He is amazing at all three.

I have watched him steer our small family through hard times, good times, and just plain crazy times.

I have watched him be a rock that I can always depend on, for anything.

I have watched him sit on the couch, for hours upon hours, watching football, baseball, basketball, hockey, golf, and poker tournaments.

I have watched him wait and wait to take out the trash cans so that he misses the trash truck and our trash piles higher and higher.

I have watched him leave his dinner dishes on the coffee table, his underwear on the floor, and his nail clippings on his bedside table.

In this time, I have watched him be the most perfect, imperfect, husband possible. And I love him for every bit of it!

Happy anniversary baby, I love you so much and I'm so glad that you wrote me such a nice email so many years ago.

Starting to Relax

2010-10-10T19:25:00.000-07:00

I have not blogged in a while because I felt like all I was doing was whining about how hard it is to be a working mom. Y'all it is hard, like really hard. So hard that I'm talking in a fake Southern accent. But nobody wants to hear someone whine all the time so I kept my blogging mouth shut.

While the whole working parent thing continues to be hard it is starting to get more comfortable. I'm not going to lie, the first month was brutal. I was devastated about leaving my baby and then he got his first cold and then I got a cold and then he got the stomach flu and then I got the stomach flu and Captain America got the stomach flu and broke his leg and was out of town for a week for work and I was tired and I got another cold and, and, and, the list could go one forever.

But we survived and the Beast is just over three months old and an absolute joy. I mean seriously, he is such a happy and adorable baby. He wakes up cooing and when I get him from his crib he is all smiles. He rarely is fussy and when he is fussy it is relatively easy to get him calmed down. He is doing fantastic in daycare. He "talks" to everyone, is eating like a champion, and is still a good sleeper. When I pick him up, he recognizes me and gives me a huge, toothless grin. I think the fact that he is doing well in daycare and is still a happy baby has really helped me transition back to work. So thank you Beast for doing your part and being a good boy at daycare!

My job rocks. I mean seriously, I love it. My commute absolutely sucks but I'm getting used to it and figuring out the quickest routes possible. I hate being away from the Beast during the day, but if I'm going to be away from him at least I love what I do.

Captain America has started helping out on the home front. Pre-baby, I did all the grocery shopping and cooking. I still do the grocery shopping but Captain America has started cooking dinner and that has been really, really nice. I don't mind doing the grocery shopping because he is a terrible shopper. He'll go to the grocery store and come back with nothing but four boxes of Cheez-Its. Now, I just need to teach him to rinse his dinner dish and put it in the dishwaser. Baby steps, people, baby steps.

My weekends are getting better too. When I first went back to work, I would not let the Beast out of my sight on the weekends. I thought that since I worked during the week, on the weekends he should be in my arms at all times. This made me frantic during his naps and after he went to bed trying to get housework and such done. I was also trying to keep a perfect house. I am happy to report that I am starting to relax on all fronts. I have realized that it is ok for the Beast to play on his activity mat while I switch the laundry and that I can hand him off to the husband so I can shower and/or run an errand. I am also slowly starting to realize that my house does not have to be spotless at all times. For example, this morning I started to freak out that chores needed to be done. Instead of freaking out, I said screw the chores, and took the Beast on an early morning walk. I didn't do my hair and make-up, I didn't try to look "put together." I just threw on some old workout clothes, threw the Beast in his stroller, and enjoyed the sunshine.

I feel great that I'm starting to relax and feel comfortable. The real test will be to see if I can maintain this attitude on Monday morning!

Another Video

2010-09-30T20:58:00.000-07:00

Here's another video of the Beast for my dad. FYI: the burp is from the Beast and the panting in the background is Mickey, not me.

Conflicted

2010-09-23T21:17:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm bipolar or just a new working mom.

Somedays I think that I rock at being a working mom. There I am wearing a pre-pregnancy suit with hair and make-up done, handling a mediation, even pumping in my car during breaks. I think I can totally do this. The Beast is thriving at daycare, the house is relatively clean, and we even have a home cooked meal for dinner.

But then there are days that are the complete opposite. Days where my hair is oily from not being washed for days, I put eye shadown on in the dark, I'm wearing maternity clothes, and I yell at my husband that I want to sell the house, move to Arkansas, and eat only ramen so that I can stay home with my baby. I even asked him the other day if Amber from Teen Mom was a better mother than me because she is at home with her baby.

I'm so conflicted. I love my job, really, I do. My new boss even told me today that I'm doing a great job. But I also love, love, love my son. I want to be able to do both. I want to spend lots of time with my son and still be an attorney working in special education. There are just not enough hours in the day.

I knew it would be hard to juggle work and being a mom. I just didn't realize that it would be this hard. And this week has been just a helluva week. Captain America hurt his leg playing softball. It may, or may not be, broken. His leg is so scraped up I can barely look at it without gagging. The Beast bumped his head at daycare. Well, another kid bumped into him. And I nearly lost my sh*t at the daycare. I mean, hello, the Beast cannot move. Someone needs to be watching him. The situation has been handled now, but I was flaming mad for a while. I left work later than usual today and barely made it to daycare on time to pick the Beast up. I must say I have mad driving skills.

I do not think the conflict between working and being a mother is going to end anytime soon. I just need to learn to be comfortable with my choice.

How My Son Made My Dreams Come True

2010-09-21T21:47:00.000-07:00

I've always wanted to be a singer. Well, not a professional singer but just a person who can sing and who can sing well. I love musicals, I am a total gleek, and I adore singers with huge voices who can belt out a tune like Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenowith.

But I can't sing worth a damn. Like not at all. I was in choir in junior high and I lip synced all the words. I was singing in church one time with my sister and the guy in front of me actually turned around and gave me a dirty look. I sound like a cat being strangled. During rush, my sorority had to sing to the new pledges, again I lip synced. I was lip syncing way before Ashlee Simpson made it cool.

And then my son was born and I began singing to him. He loves it! He doesn't care how horrific I sound, he is all smiles when I sing to him. Especially when I sing itsy bitsy spider, he likes the hand motions.

So now I belt it out for the Beast. I had to google nursery rhymes and songs to figure out what to sing. Don't judge, I didn't have a lot of experience with kids before the Beast came along.

The Beast has changed my life in many ways. He has made me a singer. We'll see if he still loves my singing when he is 15 years old.

A Little Beast Talk

2010-09-16T20:16:00.000-07:00

Here is a little video of the Beast trying to talk. Warning it is a little long and I'm just saying "hi baby" over and over again. I'm mainly posting this for my dad to see. I know my mom will complain that it is too long.

News Flash

2010-09-14T21:35:00.000-07:00

Here is your super obvious news flash for the day...being a working mom is hard, like really hard. Take away the mommy guilt of putting your baby in daycare and being a working mom is still just physically exhausting. I told a good friend that being a working parent is rough and she said that I make it look pretty awesome. Really? Well bless your little heart good friend because about 90% of the time I'm a total basket case. Although, I am really proud of myself that I have remembered to wear make-up to work so far.

I just feel like my day is so grueling. Thank the good Lord that the Beast sleeps through the night. I just do not know how working parents go to work with a little one that wakes through the night. Kudos to those parents. I feel like we are finally settling into a routine so that is nice. This is my third week back to work but it is the Beast's first full week of daycare. As of right now, I get up at 5:30am, take a shower, do hair and make-up and put my jewelry on. Then I nurse the Beast. After he's done eating, he is either asleep so he goes back in the crib or awake in which case the husband takes over. Then I run downstairs to get his bottles ready, pack up my pump, my work bag, and grab my lunch. Then run back upstairs to get dressed and grab a snuggle with the Beast. Sometimes I drop the Beast off at daycare and sometimes Captain America does it.

Around 8 or 8:30 am I arrive at work. Then I work the whole day with no lunch. I don't take a lunch because (1) I work in the ghetto and there is nothing good to eat around my office, (2) I waste a lot of work time pumping, and (3) I want to get the hell out of there as soon as possible to get my baby! I really like my new job but it just can't compete with the Beast. I pump three times at work all while fielding emails and doing legal research and trying to keep on top of everything that needs to get done.

I leave work promptly at 5pm and pick up the Beast around 5:45pm. He is at daycare a long time. It's horrible and breaks my heart but we have no other option. Such is the life of lawyers. We are home by 6pm, the Beast eats, we play, we have bathtime, the Beast eats again, and then he is down for the night I do not do anything other than spend time with the Beast from when I get home until he goes to bed. I usually wait to eat dinner unless I can eat the food with one hand. I don't wash bottles, do laundry, check email. From 6pm until 7 or 8pm is strictly my time with my baby. Although yesterday he fell asleep in the car on the way home from daycare and was done for the night. I was sad all day today because I didn't get my time with him. But that can't be helped, he's a growing boy and getting over a cold. When he needs to sleep, he needs to sleep.

After the Beast is in bed, I wash his bottles, wash all my pump parts, pack my lunch, lay out his clothes and anything he needs for daycare, lay out my clothes (laying out my clothes involves me trying on various work clothes to see what fits), and prep his bottles for the next day. This is usually done around 8pm (if the Beast goes down around 7pm) and then I have a couple of hours to hang out with the husband and relax before I need to be in bed at 10pm. Then I go to bed to start the whole thing over the next day.

My weekends are devoted to spending time with my son. I try to do errands and chores only when he is asleep. I don't usually get everything done. If you come to my house you will see that the guest bathroom could use some serious TLC but I don't care because no one ever uses it. I will definitely be getting a housekeeper once I'm bringing in some money again. You can see why I'm exhausted. And now it is eight minutes till 10, I need to get to bed before I turn into a pumpkin.

Not Fair

2010-09-12T20:13:00.000-07:00

My 94 year old grandmother has a flat screen tv and I do not. My bedroom tv is one that I had in junior high.

I really want a flat screen. I think I would leave out all the ceramic figurines though.

Baptism of the Beast

2010-09-12T19:45:00.000-07:00

It has been a helluva week. First the Beast got sick. It was just a cold but it was in in his lungs and it was his first cold and he is so little, so of course I was in a panic. Then I got sick. And I still can't take my beloved advil cold and sinus because I'm nursing. Grrrr. I haven't had any since before I got pregnant and I miss it! I ended up missing work Friday (even though I just started my new job) because my ears felt like they were going to explode. The Beast ended up going to the doctor twice, we had to call in Captain America's grandma to watch him so he didn't have to go to daycare. It was a mess.

Despite all this, I still had to get everything ready for the Beast's baptism which was this past Saturday.

It ended up being a great day. The Beast was a happy, smiley baby the whole day. The ceremony was lovely and very special.

But the day didn't start out great. I had decided that I would order croissant sandwiches and a cake from Alberston's and that I would make the rest. On Friday I had to prepare broccoli slaw, potato salad, grilled corn salad, and curry dip for a veggie platter for 30 people. Plus take care of a sick baby and a sick me. I didn't get to the grocery store until 7:30pm. I was up until midnight boiling potatoes and grilling corn.

I went to bed exhausted but with everything done and ready. In the morning I went to Alberston's to pick up the sandwiches that I ordered online. But when I got there, the sandwiches weren't ready. They didn't even have my order. I started to lose it. I started yelling, "well just start making sandwiches, I need them!" One of the deli workers calmly asked me if maybe I had placed my order with the other Albertson's in my city because people usually get them confused. I told her of course not and to start making sandwiches. She, again very calmly, suggested that she call the other store. I was like fine, whatever. Um yeah, I placed the order at the wrong store. My sandwiches were ready at the other store. And I looked like a big asshole.

However, I managed to order my cake from the right Albertson's. Of course it wasn't ready. So in between yelling at the deli workers to make sandwiches, I started yelling at the bakery people because my cake wasn't ready. Not my proudest moment. But I specifically said it needed to be ready at 8am and it was 8:20 and still not ready. And that smug baker sure as hell didn't need to move like a turtle while decorating the cake. I know she was doing it just to piss me off.

I eventually calmed down, got my cake, got my sandwiches, and got the hell outta there. We made it to the church on time and everything was fine.

The food turned out really good. The ultra sugary, cheesy sheetcake is a must for baptisms.

Oh I almost forgot to mention that during the baptism ceremony, the Beast let out the loudest, wettest fart/poop known to man. Everyone in the church heard it and Captain America and I were doubled over with the giggles. I peeked down the Beast's pants and realized that this diaper needed to be changed, like now. I got up from the pew, ran over to an empty pew in the back of the church, threw him down and changed his diaper. I look up and Captain America is running over to me. The priest is waiting for the Beast and I'm holding up the whole ceremony. I grabbed the Beast, ran back to the Priest and left poor Captain America to clean baby crap off the pew. It was definitely a memorable baptism.

Ugh

2010-09-07T20:35:00.000-07:00

I had these big plans to blog about my great, long weekend which was really fabulous. We did all sorts of fun things, saw family, friends, relaxed a bit, and even got the house clean. But then my little baby Beast got sick. Cue working mom guilt. And now all I can focus on is my poor little baby and the horrendous chest cold he has. And I didn't even get to take him to the doctor. Captain America had to take him because, well I'm on day 3 of a brand new job and I couldn't just take a day off. There is nothing sadder than the sound of a tiny, little baby cough. Breaks my heart everytime.

And I now have that horrendous cold. And I'm beyond exhausted from staying up all night sucking the snot out of the Beast's nose. So I'm going to bed.

I Did It!

2010-09-02T20:46:00.000-07:00

I did it. I went to work all day while the Beast went to "school." I survived. The Beast survived. We were all fine. The world didn't end. I am so relieved the first day back to work is finally over.

Don't get me wrong, my heart was ripped straight out of my chest when I left him at school. He was asleep when I dropped him off. I placed him in his crib and he looked so sweet and peaceful, I just couldn't stand to leave him. I really like his teachers and that makes me feel a lot better. I was chatting with his morning teacher while she was tending to a fussy baby trying to crawl. She casually mentioned that she watches this baby at night. I didn't think anything of the remark until I got in the car and realized she was dropping a subtle hint that she is available for after hours babysitting. The teachers are not really supposed to make private arrangements with parents for fear of liability. But clearly she does anyways. I wonder if her rates are reasonable? This could actually work out nicely. As much as I dearly love my son, I do have dreams of a sushi dinner with just my husband.

I managed to keep it all together until I started walking out of the facility. Then my eyes started to well up with tears, just as I was walking past the director's office. The office with an open door and the assistant director sitting there, who clearly saw me coming. I thought it would be rude to just walk by so I popped my head in and stammered some incoherent sentence about paying tuition. When I walked in, the shocked assistant director exclaimed, "Oh! You look so pretty!" Ok, I get that last time I was here I looked like a homeless person, but do you really need to act so damn surprised that I was able to pull myself together for work? Geez, as if this morning didn't suck enough already! Then she asked me if I was doing ok. I answered with a weak, quivering, "yea." Then she asked, "are you sure you are ok?" I answered with an ever weaker "yes," and ran out of the office while I was starting to cry. I could hear her shout after me, "ok, see you later, have a good day!" So now I am the weirdo parent that can't hold a conversation and runs away crying. Awesome.

Other than the rough morning, the day went great. I had a great first day at my new job. I managed to pump without incident. Even though I spilled mustard on my dress from my sandwich it was a tiny amount and not noticeable. I got a solid two hours with the Beast before he fell asleep. We sang songs, read a book, had a little tummy time, had a bath, and snuggled. So while I didn't see him for all that long, it was a great two hours.

And now I am effing tired. Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday. We survived going back to work, but it is going to take some time to get used to this routine

On a sidenote, Michigan (Captain America's alma mater) has their first game this weekend. For the love of all that is holy I hope they win some games. I am in no mood to deal with a grumpy husband just because his team loses.

Firsts

2010-08-31T20:48:00.000-07:00

Today the Beast discovered his hands and started sucking on them. I have no idea if this is some sort of developmental milestone, but it was the first time I have seen him do it and it was pretty cute.

I know that a common complaint of working mothers is that they will miss seeing their child's first milestonses such as rolling over, crawling, walking, etc. Some tell their daycare provider to not tell them when their child experiences a first so that when they see it, they think it is a true first. I was really worried about missing the Beast's firsts because I would be at work. But I realized that I could just as easily miss a milestone because I was in the shower or at the grocery store. I certainly cannot sit by son 24-7, staring at him and waiting for him to do something. That would be weird and creepy. I also will not tell his daycare providers to not tell me when he hits a milestone. I want to know when he does it and it will still be special when I see it for the first time. I work in special education and a lot of the evaluations concerning little ones centers on when they hit certain developmental milestones. So I don't give a damn who sees it first as long as he meets them!

Maybe I will miss the first time he sits up or crawls because I'll be at work, but I will take solace in the fact that I will definitely witness his first trip to Hawaii (Summer 2011 baby!) and I will be there when he graduates college without student loans. Every situation has their pros and cons, especially being a working parent. Even though I may be sad about missing the Beast's firsts, I am going to focus on the opportunites I can provide him and the positive aspects of being a working parent.

Fulfilling a Fantasy

2010-08-31T15:47:00.000-07:00

In spite of all my anxiety regarding going back to work, I'm not actually working yet. My new hire paperwork is all caught up in the maze of human resources which has bought me a few more days hanging out with the Beast. And I'm not going to complain about that.

Today I decided to fulfill one of my stay at home mom fantasies...pushing my baby around in the stroller at South Coast Plaza (the mall to end all malls). I used to work across the street from South Coast and while at lunch I would see an army of stay at home moms with their babies. I daydreamed of pushing around my stroller, wearing my juicy couture sweatsuit, and spending my husband's money on lavish presents for myself and the baby all while laughing at the poor saps in suits. Remember this is a fantasy.

So I got all dressed and put the Beast in a cute outfit. I think he was not too thrilled about the puppy on his overalls.

I went to the mall and pushed my stroller around. The trip didn't exactly live up to my fantasy. My juicy couture sweatsuit is no where near fitting over my ass and I had to wear a maternity dress. Even though I have the snap-n-go stroller (so much smaller than the travel system), I was still ramming into every freaking clothing display that I walked by. That was annoying. Also there was no spending of my husband's money on lavish presents. I spent my own money and I could barely find anything to buy because I'm still all lumpy from being pregnant.

And I had to take a million freaking elevators. I am not sure why I didn't think this part out. Of course I would have to take the elevator, I had a stroller. But I hate, hate, hate elevators. They give me the willies and just two nights ago I had a nightmare that I was stuck in one. I have been stuck in an elevator twice. Once was when I was a kid, with my family. The doors started to open before we reached the floor and the whole thing jammed. My mom panicked and started screaming "save the air for the children!" The second time was in high school with about fifteen people jammed in the elevator. Scary stuff.

Even though the shopping trip was less than perfect, I managed to find a dress for the Beast's baptism (I am choosing to ignore the size on the tag) and I got to have lunch with a good friend.

And the Beast slept the entire time. Even with me ramming into all the clothing racks.

Almost Ready

2010-08-29T19:34:00.000-07:00

I am ready to go back to work. Let me clarify that, I will never be ready to leave my son. I'll be that crazy middle-aged woman dropping my son off at college, crying hysterically, and making sure he has enough sweaters. But in terms of preparation, I am so ready. My pump is all packed in its discreet tote that says "I'm just a black tote bag, I'm not a machine that is going to milk someone like a cow, don't mind me." I have purchased a new dress for my first day and a sassy new work bag (both from Target, I'll be hitting Nordy's after those paychecks start rolling in again). I have enough frozen casserole to feed me and Brady for a week and enough frozen breastmilk to keep the Beast pacified for a while. The Beast's cubby at daycare is stocked with six bibs, five extra outfits, two sleep sacks, two blankets, and five crib sheets.

The only thing I don't have is a good picture of my little family for my office. I have the obligatory wedding photo framed for my office. This is my absolute favorite photo of us from the wedding. I pretty much hated all the posed photos. We looked so fake in the posed ones. Candid shots just capture the mood so much better.

This is the picture I have framed for my office. It is cute. I like that we match (I'm very big on coordination). And yes we coordinated on purpose, we were going to a birthday party and the guests were supposed to dress in black and white. I went to three stores looking for a black and white outfit for the Beast. I was determined to have him participate in his first theme party.

But this picture isn't that great. My husband's head is cut off and the Beast looks all yellow and jaundicey. He did have jaundice when we came home from the hospital. It was scary and not something I really want to think about often.

This past weekend, we all went to my grandparents' house for dinner. I was determined to get a good family photo for my office. I curled my hair, put a cute outfit on the Beast. I was all set.

Then I downloaded the photo onto my computer and it was a total fail. I'm all shiny and my forehead is all bumpy from getting my eyebrows waxed. The photo is all grainy and we have the devil red eye thing going on. Which I tried to fix with my primitive editing skills. While I was able to reduce the red eye, the editing results in a dull, lifeless, creepy, zombie eye look.

I am pretty much ready to go back to work. I am still going to work on getting the family picture perfect. I would also like the bullies to be included. That should be interesting.

First Day of School

2010-08-27T06:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the Beast's first official day in daycare. By the way, we are referring to daycare as "school," it just sounds better. He had a trial run at school before I actually return to work next week. I think this trial run was more for me than him. He's a pretty mellow guy and does well in any environment. I, on the other hand, am a high strung mess who does not do well with change.

I dropped him off around 9am with a plan to pick him up at noon. He was asleep when I dropped him off so I put him in his little crib. I bought him a new seahorse to take to school with him but the school does not allow any loose items in the crib for safety reasons. So I strapped the seahorse, by his tail, to the side of the crib with a pacifer lanyard. Poor seahorse. I dropped off his bottles (I brought 10 oz all together for three hours, just a little much). And said goodbye.

Then I got in my car and started wailing. This was the first time I had left the Beast with anyone other than my husband. He looked so little in his crib. I was afraid that he would wake up and be scared and not know where I am. So I'm driving in my car totally sobbing. Oh and I hadn't showered yet or put on makeup or brushed my hair and I was wearing my holey yoga pants. So I'm driving down the road looking like a deranged homeless person.

Even though I was sad I was determined to be productive and go to the grocery store. But first I needed to pull it together. So I blasted "You Can't Stop the Beat" from the musical, Hairspray. This is my go-song to cheer me up or just wake me up. So now I look like a sobbing, deranged, homeless person who is screeching out Broadway musicals.

I managed to calm down at the grocery store and was even able to enjoy my carmel frappuchino. Since I was so productive with going to the grocery store, I decided to get a pedicure. You know pedicures just are not what they used to be. They are not actually that relaxing. I had to fend off the lady's barrage of questions regarding whether I want a flower (no, I'm not 12), extra massage, or the super expensive callous remover that melts skin away (that can't be good). After getting a somewhat crappy pedicure, I got my eyebrows waxed. As if it wasn't enough to ruin my pedicure, the lady keeps asking me if I want my lip waxed. I tell her no. I have never had my lip waxed because I don't need to have it waxed. Sure, I have a stray hair here and there but (1) it is blonde hair, and (2) the wax totally irritates my skin and I so did not need a mustache of broken out, red skin. She keeps telling me that I need to have it waxed. I finally firmly said "no thank you," and she shut up. By that point I was like hurry the hell up, I need to get my baby!!!

When I picked up the Beast, he was chilling in a boppy just watching the world around him. He looked pretty content. He drank his bottle like a good boy and his teacher said he didn't cry at all. The school even made a little photo collage for me:

The top right picture looks funny because it is all stretched out. I am feeling pretty good about the school thing. I'm glad he was able to nap and enjoy his bottle. Of course when I got him home, he was a fussy butt for the rest of the day. He fought his naps with a vengeance and didn't go to bed until 9 pm (but he slept until 5:30 am, yay!!!). I'm happy with his school but it is definitely going to take some time to get into a routine.

Baby Bunny

2010-08-25T17:32:00.000-07:00

When you are a new mom who is on the verge of returning to work and feeling very sad about putting your little baby in daycare, do not, DO NOT read The Runaway Bunny to said baby.

The Runaway Bunny is about a little baby bunny who tries to run away from home and his mommy bunny's never-ending love and devotion to him. It is a very touching story and a classic. The whole time I was reading it, the Beast was cooing and making little sounds while I was crying and telling him that he was my little baby bunny and that I loved him and would always love him forever and ever. I am a tad emotional right now. The Beast just cooed and looked at me like I'm crazy...he's very smart because I am crazy.

So I made a deal with the Beast. He goes to daycare and when he turns sixteen I will buy him a brand new car. Not the fanciest car they make, but still a nice, cool car. And he will never have to work while school is in session (provided his GPA is acceptable). He'll only have to work during the summers. I can't have him being a total spoiled brat. So that is the trade-off. The Beast accepted the deal. He won't remember being in daycare this young but I'm pretty damn sure he's going to remember that car.

Two Month Check-Up

2010-08-24T16:49:00.000-07:00

The Beast had his two month check-up today. I can't believe he's this old already! He weighed 12 pounds, 5 ounces (75th percentile) and was 24 1/2 inches long (97th percentile). I have a big boy on my hands!

I certainly did not like seeing him get his shots. And I don't think it is fair that I had to hold down his little legs while he got them. I pay a lot of money for insurance, there should be someone else to hold down his legs in torture.

But he did get some pretty cool snoopy bandaids.

Poor thing, he has his mother's thighs. The chubby thigh look is much cuter on a baby than a 30 year old woman.

I brought Stephanie for moral support since Captain America had to work. The doctor told me that right after the Beast got his shots I should breastfeed him to comfort him. Well the Beast was screaming bloody murder after his shots, there was no time for the hooter hider, so Stephanie got an eye full of some boob. She was a good sport about it and politely turned away and stared at the wall.

Even though I spent an hour at Target yesterday and spent a small fortune, I didn't have any baby tylenol. Super mom fail. I stopped at CVS on the way home. I couldn't find the baby tylenol so I asked the pharmacy clerk where I could find baby tylenol. She looked at me like I was speaking gibberish and said, "what?" "Baby tylenol, where is it?" She replies, "oh you mean infant tylenol?" Um yeah, last time I checked baby and infant where interchangeable. If I say baby tylenol I mean tylenol for babies aka infants. I don't mean little, tiny pills of tylenol that are "babies."

I was very worried that the Beast would not handle the shots well. He assured me that he was fine and even gave me a fist bump to show that he was all good.

Sleeping On The Job

2010-08-23T19:19:00.000-07:00

What the hell is this?

Are you napping? Do you not realize that it is mommy's last week of maternity leave? Don't you want to spend every possible second with me? Do you not realize that the world is going to end next week when I go back to work?

Ok fine, I guess the world isn't going to end next week and taking a little nap isn't a terrible idea. I seem to be the only one freaking out about my return to work next week. I love how the pacifier is wedged under his chubby cheek. I wasn't about to move it because I just couldn't wake that adorable little sleeping face.

My goal this week is not to stress out about my return to work and to not let that stress ruin my week with the Beast. I also need to stop buying stuff in preparation for his entry into daycare. I do not need a new outfit for him for every day of the week. He does not need a different little jacket for each new outfit. I do not need the expensive bottle carrier to transport his bottles from my house to his daycare which is about ten minutes away. He does not need a sleep sack in every color possible. I do not need to have enough diapers in my house to last until his first birthday. I must remember that I am simply going back to work and I am not moving away to a remote island. I must, must stay away from Target. Whew, with all this running through my head, a little nap is starting to sound pretty darn good.

Vacay!

2010-08-22T16:53:00.000-07:00

This past weekend we loaded up the bullies and the baby and headed down to San Diego for a little mini vacay. It was our first night away from home with the Beast and I was a little bit nervous about not having everything I needed so I went crazy with the overpacking. I think I brought about 8 different outfits, six bibs, five burp clothes, enough diapers for a week, and an entire box of wipes. Plus the pack n play and stroller. Plus the bullies' beds, toys, food, and dishes. Plus my clothes, make-up, etc.

Needless to say our car was pretty darn full. Sorry Frankie, there wasn't much room for the bullies.

The bullies were dropped off at my husband's aunt and uncle's house. They have a huge, gorgeous backyard with lots of flowers and trees. Perfect for exploring. And they let the bullies sleep on their bed. It is definitely a vacation hot spot for the bullies.

We continued down south to the Mission Bay Hilton. The hotel is right on the beach with tree lined grounds, good restaurants, and a great pool.

I'm glad we brought the pack n play. It allowed me to set up a baby station where the Beast could sleep and get his diaper changed and such. This was great because I was really nervous about taking him to a hotel. See, I'm a total germ freak and hotels are just the worst for germs. I was totally stressed about putting him on the bed in case he touched the comforter. We've all seen those dateline specials about how gross those comforters are. And then I freaked out that if he touched the sheets the detergent the hotel used would irritate his sensitive skin. I wash everything in my house with perfume/dye free detergent and double rinse it. He couldn't possibly withstand anything less, right?

And of course, he was just fine on the sheets. He played in the big, comfortable bed and did not have any speck of a rash. Just another example of me freaking out for no reason at all.

I am so weird sometimes, I don't make any sense. I was totally freaked out about the sheets but thought it was just fine to take him in the pool with chlorine and a million other germy little kids. Again, he was just fine with the pool water (I rinsed him thoroughly when we were done).

I was very excited for his first time in the pool. The Beast? Not so much. He didn't react at all when we put him in the water. I suppose that is better than him screaming bloody murder when his little feet touched the water but I was hoping for a little smile at least.

Our mini vacay was wonderful. The weather was great, we got to watch the Sea World fireworks on the beach, and the husband and I finally got to spend some time together. It wasn't the most relaxing vacation ever, the Beast spent a fair amount of the night awake. But it was still a great vacation.

The only problem with the vacation was our eating. We have a tendency to go for an eating free-for-all while on vacation. Definitely not weight watchers friendly. I ate bacon twice while we were there and I don't even really like bacon!

We had coupons for a free continental breakfast at the hotel. When we got to the restaurant the waitress told us that we could use the coupon as a credit for anything on the menu, including the buffet. With the coupon it was only $8, what a deal! We couldn't pass that up.

We went from a plan of eating fruit and yogurt to this:

At least Captain America threw in some yogurt. I can't say the same for myself. There was also the dinner at the Mexican restaurant in Old Town, french fries with lunch, the shortbread I randomly ate at four in the morning when I got up to nurse the Beast (the package said "pure butter," not a good sign), wine, and beer. And all the bacon I inexplicably consumed. Sigh, tomorrow's weigh-in is gonna be ugly.

No vacation is complete without a trip to the gift store. Everytime we are on vacation we buy a Christmas ornament representative of our vacation. I found this one at the hotel gift store. How hilarious is this little starfish!? It even says San Diego. He is definitely going front and center on our tree this year.

We survived our first vacation with the Beast and had a great time. Tomorrow it's back to work for Captain America. I'll be enjoying my last week of maternity leave with the Beast. My plan is to hold him and snuggle him all day and never let him go. Ever. Not for a second. I may be a tad dramatic about my return to work.

Greatest Thing Ever.

2010-08-19T15:13:00.000-07:00

This is the greatest thing ever!

What? A hot guy in a tight tank top? Nope, it's spanx for men!

I freaking love it. I absolutely freaking love it. Now men can be completely uncomfortable and worry about their spanx showing just like us ladies....all in the name of trying to look better than we actually look. Welcome to the club boys. Now they just need male panty hose....

Froggy Woggy

2010-08-18T20:07:00.000-07:00

The Beast is becoming more interested in toys. He will look at them and follow them with his eyes if you move them side to side. I realize he looks pretty skeptical of this frog here but I swear he was enjoying me shaking a frog in his face saying "look at the froggy woggy, look that cutesy wutesy froggy woggy!" Sigh, I've become one of those crazy, baby-talking moms.

The Beast may not love his toys yet but let me tell you who does...Mickey. Once I started waving that little frog around she absolutely lost it.

First she popped up on the bed to see what was happening.

Then she went and got her own toy. I'm assuming she was going to share with the Beast or maybe exhange her toy for the frog.

She kept trying to get up on the bed. My pictures of her are blurry because she was seriously moving a mile a minute.

Mickey really wanted to play with the Beast. Well maybe not the Beast but definitely his toys.

After a few minutes of frenzied activity she finally hopped up on the bed. We used to allow the bullies on the furniture and our bed but have stopped doing so since the arrival of the baby. See, the bullies are very low to the ground and can't see where they are jumping. So they fling themselves with reckless abandon onto their desired piece of furniture. It really isn't good for them to be jumping like this and I definitely cannot have them potentially landing on the baby. So they have been banned from jumping on furniture. I wrestled the very confused Mickey off the bed and decided we had enough of playing with toys.

Frank just sat there and watched the whole thing. He just doesn't understand why that crazy bitch gets so worked up about toys.

Out and About

2010-08-17T19:55:00.000-07:00

Today the Beast and I spent the day with Auntie Steph. Can you see what his shirt says? It says "[Olive] my aunt." How cute is that? Just one of the many adorable presents from his
Auntie.

We went to breakfast and then decided to hit Babies r Us and Target. I know terribly exciting but we were kind of limited in our options since we had a six week Beast in tow. Usually when Steph and I venture out into the world together we have to pause for a moment and remind ourselves to try to not look like complete dorks or be lame. I don't know why but whenever we are together we end up doing something very stupid. Our stupidity makes us die with laughter while the rest of the world just looks at us in pity.

When we got to Babies r Us I decided to wear the Beast to the store rather than wrestle with my massive stroller. Hmmm, so far the mission to not look like a dork is not going very well.

When I got to the cashier to pay for my stuff she asked for my rewards card. I reached for my keys because that is where the card is and couldn't find them. I started wildly tearing apart the baby bag, patting down all my pockets and freaking out. I thought Steph must have the keys, she didn't. And then I realized, OMG I left the car running in the parking lot! Steph made a mad dash out of the store to check while I finished paying. It turned out that I had managed to turn the car off and the keys were stuck in some crevice of the back seat. I definitely was not doing too well on the mission to not look like a dork or be lame.

We actually made it through Target unscathed. When we got home, the Beast needed to eat. I thought it was the perfect time to practice with my hooter hider. I'm trying to work up the nerve to be able to nurse in public so that I don't always have to lug around a bunch of bottles. My first step was to buy the hooter hider but I needed to make sure I could manage it. I figured it would be better for my sister to see accidental boob than say an entire restaurant.

I got the Beast all situated and threw on the hooter hider. It went pretty well until he started grabbing the hooter hider and thrashing it about with his hot little hand. I might have to rethink this nursing in public thing. I absolutely cannot have my son flashing my boobs for the world to see.

After the hooter hider trial run Steph went off to get a pedicure and I went to the doctor for my 6 week post partum check up. Hmmm, I got the short end of the stick on that one. My doctor said I looked great and gave me the all clear for exercise. That means no more excuses, I have to actually start exercising now. I'm determined to get rid of this Kate Gosselin belly if it kills me. Tomorrow I might actually try my new tae bo dvd. Maybe. I might be busy all day fostering my son's development. Or laying in bed with him watching 90210.

The Big Move

2010-08-15T18:32:00.000-07:00

The Beast has been sleeping in a bassinet next to our bed. The same bassinet that me, my siblings, my cousins, my mom, my aunt, and my uncles used. I would swaddle him nice and snug and he would rest peacefully.

But the Beast is a hideously noisy sleeper, grunting constantly. And he recently decided that he did not like the swaddle and wants to sleep with his arms completely stretched out. He was hitting the sides of the bassient with his hands and waking himself up. He wasn't sleeping well and we definietly were not with all his grunting.

So at 6 weeks old, we kicked him out of our room and into his crib. I was sad to see him go. He seemed too little to sleep in his crib alone. What if he woke up and was scared that he was all alone? What if he cried and I didn't hear him? But after seeing him whack his hand against the bassinet wall, I took the plunge and put him in his crib.

And he slept great. He slept for his longest stretch yet. The husband and I got to lay in bed and watch tv and talk like we used to. And we even got to sleep. I was still able to hear him when he needed me with the help of the baby monitor and I only got up to make sure he was breathing about ten times.

Plus he has his seahorse, so he isn't really alone. The thing lights up and plays soothing music. It is supposed to get your baby to sleep in 5 minutes, the time it takes to run through its pre-programmed lullabies. It has yet to work but it is pretty cute. Just another piece of useless baby merchandise.

And he has Frank who is always keeping watch.

As for the bassinet? I'm using it to hold my clean laundry until I get a chance to fold it.

Judgy Wudgy Was A Bear

2010-08-15T17:58:00.001-07:00

I was in a sorority in college so I am fully aware that women can be judgmental. Back then it was "oh you are going out on a Tuesday night, again?" "What do you mean you can't make rush activities because you have to work?" And "I can't believe she's wearing that hot pink sequined tube top out tonight?" Ok, I deserved to be judged about the hot pink sequined tube top, that was awful.

Then came law school where everyone was judgy (and competitive). "Your outline for property is only 15 pages? Mine is 20." "You finished that exam early? I was writing the entire time." And "you're missing wills and trusts again?" Well, everyone skipped out on wills and trusts, it was more awful than the hot pink sequined tube top.

But man oh man, you just do not know judgmental until you become a mom and have to defend your parenting decisions to other mothers. I was at a friend's baby shower this weekend and brought the Beast with me. The grandma-to-be had all her friends there and they all had lots of questions about the Beast. Questions like how old is he, is he sleeping through the night, is he a good baby, etc. But the most poignant question was, "so are you going back to work?" Said with an underlying tone that the right answer is no. So of course I answer that I am going back to work and they all wanted to know when. I told them that I was going back in two weeks. Which led to the next question, "who is going to watch the baby?" I answered that he is going to a very nice daycare by my house. That is when the line of questioning ends with a very disapproving, "ooooh, I see."

The grandma-to-be tried to come to my rescue and announced to her friends that I am an attorney but that just made their eyes grow wider and me stammer, "well, I, um, don't work traditional hours, um, like a corporate attorney (I work in public law), um, so, um, yeah, it should work out."

Now I am not going to see these women again so I do not know why (1) they care about my work schedule/daycare arrangements, and (2) why I care about them caring about my work schedule/daycare arrangements. It is just that initial disapproving "ooooh, I see" coupled with the disapproving look that really gets to me. I shouldn't feel the need to defend or explain my choice to anyone, especially people I'm not going to see again. I do not need to prove to anyone, other than my son, that I am a good mom.

I know this incident (which, in hindsight, wasn't that bad) is going to be one of many where someone makes me feel guilty or upset about being a working mom. But I am going to try my hardest to own my status as a working mom and come up with some kind of good response to such questions so that I don't have to stammer some lame justification. I'll have to work on my response because all I have so far is, "go f**k yourself" and that is considered rude in most circles.

Why I am excited to go back to work...

2010-08-12T20:16:00.000-07:00

....so I don't have to hear my husband say, "but you were home all day."

Cause I have so much free time while caring for a newborn. Please disregard the two hours devoted to Beverly Hills 90210 reruns daily.

My Introduction to Working Motherhood

2010-08-12T16:31:00.001-07:00

I have a new job. I'm not going to go into details about it on the internets but all you need to know is that I have a new job and I had to go into the office today to complete all my new hire paperwork, benefits, and get fingerprinted.

Here is where things go wrong. I had to take the Beast with me to do all this paperwork. I thought it was no big deal, I take him on errands and out to lunch/dinner all the time. He's a great baby and usually sleeps through everything. It will be easy. I'll be in and out of there, no problem.

So I drive to the office. I am dressed professionally and actually wearing work heels. The Beast looks adorable. Everything is great. I got to the office about 20 minutes early. I decided to hang out with the Beast in the back of the car for a bit. I noticed his diaper needed to be changed, so I changed it on the back seat of my car. Not super easy, but not impossible. Everything is still good. I still had some time, so I gave him a bit of the bottle I brought for him. Everything still good. Then I hear a small explosion emit from my son. Crap, he needs his diaper changed again. I change it. This time he gets poo on his socks (don't ask me how). No worries, I have extra socks. Everything still ok.

I go into the office and check in with the receptionist who informs me that I'm at the wrong building and I need to go down the street. Ok, fine. I wheel the Beast back to the car, wrestle my massive stroller back into the car and head to the other building. I'm starting to sweat in my nice work dress but other than that everything is fine.

I check in with the receptionist at the correct building and everyone coming into the office oohs and aahs over my cute baby. He smiles and coos, totally adorable. I relax a bit and wait for my appointment with HR. I fill out all my paperwork and turn it in. Now I'm just waiting for the benefits lady. I wait and wait. I hear another explosion from the Beast. Crap he needs his diaper changed again. But where do I do it? I'm trying to be nonchalant about being at my new office with my freaking baby. Changing a diaper is not going to help that situation. It seems rude to change his diaper on the conference table, so I change it in the stroller. Not easy, but manageable.

I'm taken into another room for fingerprinting. The Beast starts crying while I'm getting fingerprinted which is taking forever because each of my fingerprints keep getting rejected by the stupid machine. The lady says, "um I think I hear your son." Oh right, I should tend to my baby that I totally, inappropriately brought to my new job. I run into the other room, shove the pacificer in his mouth and finish the fingerprinting.

I return to my original room. A few more people come into the room to ooh and aah over my son. It's very nice of them to say how cute he is, but I can see he's starting to freak out about all the strange faces making strange noises at him. I mean, he's only 6 weeks old. It was a bit much. So I give him his pacificer again, but he continues to fuss. The Beast is no fool. He knows that no matter how hard he sucks on that binky, nothing is coming out. So I give him the rest of the bottle. The Beast is pacified for now.

The benefits lady finally comes in. She asks me a million questions about the baby who is starting to freak out again. I'm thinking, ok give me the insurance packet and let me get the hell out of here. Then she asks me if I'm breastfeeding. What? Why does she care how I feed my son? Is this going to go in my employee file? Is she going to tell the insurance company? I say yes, because I am, and thankfully this is the right answer with her. She commends me on my choice (like that matters) all while the Beast is starting to go into full freak out mode. She looks at him and says, "I think he wants to nurse."

Wait, did she just tell me what my son wants? Look lady, do not tell me what my son wants. You have no idea what he wants. You don't know him or me. And you clearly missed him guzzling a huge bottle minutes earlier. What he wants is for you to hurry the hell up so we can leave and he can take a nap. So she leaves the room and I hear another explosion. So I change the Beast's diaper yet again. The benefits lady comes back and finally says I can leave. Thank the Good Lord!

I'm so frazzled by the whole experience I drive through the nearest Jack in the Box and desperately ask "do you have cookies?" They don't. They have chocolate cake and cheesecake and something else but no freaking cookies. I decide the chocolate cake isn't worth it and just get a diet coke which is delicious. I got home, nursed the Beast three times in three hours, cooked dinner, cleaned up the dinner I cooked, gave the Beast a bath, nursed again, and he finally fell asleep.

Lesson learned: babies and offices do not mix. The whole experience could have been much, much worse but it still had me unbelievably stressed out. Time for a little wine.