The Life

Wearing Clean Underwear…

You know..in case of an emergency, and the paramedics have to come and strip you down to your skivvies.  Well, honestly they better be clean.  They better be clean more for hygienic purposes.  For the paramedics, lets just try not to wear the “laundry day” pair.  You know the ones.  They are worn looking, and faded.  May have a mark or two from when you swear your period was over but clearly wasn’t.  Seams are a little stretched out and they look like you have had them in your underwear drawer since junior year in high school.  11 years ago.

I think the idea behind “wear clean underwear”, is to always be ready for anything.   I was once told by a wise woman to always get ready for the day first thing in the morning.  Be ready to do anything.  So if someone wants to meet me last minute, or I would have to run to the store, I would be ready.  That woman was my mother in law and like most advice she gives me, well I don’t listen.  I mean, it makes total sense.   To be ready to take on the day before it starts.   However, a normal morning for me does not allow time for showering, blow-drying and make-up applying.  Not if I want to sleep that is.

For example I was woken this morning by cries coming from Joey’s room, walked in to find Mini staring at me from his chair as if to say, what the hell took you so long.  Followed by demands for Alice in Wonderland, yogurt smoothies and a trip to the park.  While feeding Joey and struggling just to get the coffee made.  Where was time to shower?  I would have to wake up at 5.  Never going to happen.

So on any most day, in case of an emergency, the paramedics will find me in my pajamas.  At 1pm.  Whether or not my teeth are brushed is to be determined.  One of my children will be dressed.  Usually only one.  My house will likely look like a bomb went off and the breakfast plates still may be on the table.  Because Mini will flip out if I move her 6 hour old scrambled eggs, clearly because “I WAS STILL EATING THAT MAMA!”   Hey, I would like to think the paramedics see worse.  Maybe not though.

I always wondered what would happen if there was a true emergency while I was in a compromising position.  Let’s go back to when I was pregnant.  I would often (like 5 nights a week), get in the shower around Mini’s bathtime.  Bring in a can of shaving cream or some bubbles and I could sit in there and relax for an hour while she played.  Then bathe her and be done with it.  One time though I started to have bad cramps.  I laid there on the floor, in all my wet, naked, pregnant glory.  I’m talking 8.5 months pregnant here people.  Things didn’t look cute anymore.  All of these visions were running through my head.  I am in labor.  I am going to deliver this baby in the shower with my toddler watching who will likely be scarred for life.  I need to call Mike.  Screw Mike, how is he going to help.  I need to call 911.  I can wait a few more minutes.  Shit, it’s getting worse.  My stomach hurts.  Maybe I should call my mom.  No, she will panic.  Let me just lay here.  What will happen if I do have to call 911.  How will they get in the house.  I can’t move.  They will have to break down my front door.  Like the SWAT team.  Shit.  How much will that cost to fix?  Then they are going to come up the stairs with a stretcher, and find me curled up on the shower floor.  In fetal position.  Soaking wet.  Mini running around me covered in shaving cream like Mowgli from the Jungle Book.  Hopefully they send a woman in first.  To throw a bed sheet over me, before they try to harpoon my ass out of here.

Made me realize I will never be ready for anything.  Not until my kids are at least in kindergarten and I have a reason to have to leave my house in the morning.  And even then I will likely be in pajama pants in the car line.

I often find myself in situations that would be a laughable story for a paramedic to go home to tell their spouse.  I wear the scary undies pretty much all month because I suck at doing laundry.  And honestly, unless we are leaving the house, Mini looks and acts a little like Mowgli.

 

The Life

Life of a babe

Time is absolutely flying.  Baby Joey just had his 2 month check up!  I can hardly believe it.  Here’s a little update.  You know, because I’m not one for filling out a baby book, so my poor children will have to read my blog in their 20’s to know what they were like as babies…too bad.

Currently eats a 6oz bottle every 4 hours.

Takes a bath every night at 7.  Loves his infant massage.  Loves being snuggled up in his swaddle.  Takes his last bottle at 7:30.  He wakes up one time between 8pm and 6am.  Usually between 1 and 3.

Joey absolutely loves the playmat we stole from Grandma’s house.  Obviously we had our own, but he just loves the bumblebee music box that hangs on hers.  So clearly, we needed to take that with us.

Doesn’t care too much for a pacifier.  Uses it for 30 seconds and pops it right out.

Poops once a day.  (You know that’s important info)

So so so smiley.  He is full of laughs and coos.  It seems like he wants to talk so badly.  Always trying to tell us something.

Hates the car.  Well I don’t know if hates is the right word, but if screaming bloody murder the whole ride means hates, well then he hates it.

Loves having his little feet tickled.

Thinks Mini is silly.  Especially when she wants to rub noses with him.  Not so much when she tries to hug/strangle him.

Oh and did I mention he weighs 15 lbs!  Eek!  He is gonna be a big boy.  He is currently at 25 inches (100th %) and 15.1 lbs (98th %).  He is still wearing 3 months and 3-6 month clothes.  But I am sure the 3 months are on their way out.   I should get rid of them before he “hulks” out of them in his sleep.

Baby Joey in pictures 🙂

Let’s start at the beginning…shall we?

025 047 098 097 154 016 030 006 034 064 067 070 093 098 151 152 174 196 004 005 003 007 013 003 009 034 022 003 006 013 003 011 019 003 005 003 006 008 022 028 018 008 003 007 008 010

If you made it to the end of this post I am seriously impressed.  You must really like us. 🙂

 

Dear Mini

Dear Mini,

My sweet, sweet girl.  It’s tough being a big sister.  I told you it wasn’t going to be easy.  You miss my attention.  And I miss it being just us sometimes.  Joey makes things a little more difficult right now.  We can’t just throw shoes on and run to the park.  It takes more time, more planning.  We get to the park eventually, but I know it’s not the same.  It will get easier.  Better.  More normal.  I promise.  I know our routines are wishy washy right now.  But we will develop new routines.  Better routines.  Routines that include Baby Joey.  And you have so much love for him.  You do the sweetest thing when he cries lately.  You walk up to him, and on the way, you say “I’m coming Joey…don’t worry, I’ll be right there”.  Then you get there and coo to him in the cutest voice and tell him it’s going to be ok, and you give him his paci.  The voice you use when you try to calm him is different then your own.  It is my voice.  You mimic how I speak to him, and use the words that I say.  And it is by far one of the most precious things I have ever seen.  You are a fantastic big sister, even if it isn’t always easy.

You are doing amazing in pre-school.  Ms. Amy asked Daddy if you had ever gone to school before and was shocked that the answer was no.  She said you are so adjusted already and doing wonderfully.  I am so proud of you.  I love opening up your little backpack and seeing a drawing you made me.  I miss you when you are gone, but we both need the break.  You are already bringing all sorts of information home from school with you.  Today Daddy was telling you not to do something and you looked right in his eyes and said “daddy, be nice”.  And during dinner the other night you tried to teach us a new clapping game that you learned while you were there.  It is so fun to watch you grow in different settings.

I can’t believe that next month you will be 3 years old.  The time is flying by.  You are no longer a baby.  Well, we need to get rid of those paci’s.  Then you will no longer be a baby.  I will cross that bridge eventually I guess.  Maybe I’m not in a rush, because it’s the only thing keeping you mama’s little baby.  Who knows.  I look at you lately, and can’t believe the girl you have become.  The strong willed, feisty, smart, beautiful little girl.  You make me a proud mama everyday and I love you.  Even if you are growing up too fast.

To the moon and back kiddo,

Mama

The Life

Tuesday Ramblings…

I really don’t understand how people think that diaper changing a girl is harder than diaper changing a boy.  I get it.  The nooks and crannies.  The fear of the yuckies getting near the girl parts.  I get it.  But boys.  Oh man.  If I get peed in the face one more time…  I mean seriously.  Talk about the most nerve wracking 30 seconds.  I’m all un-fasten, survey damage, push Mini away, freak out that pee may come, cover it back up with the diaper, regain composure, uncover, wipe wipe wipe, tell Mini to get away if she is going to ask a billion times if he pooped when clearly she can see he pooped, do a quick once over for anything left behind, seal new diaper.  All in 30 seconds.  And let me tell you, that is some heart pounding activity.

I think Weight Watchers sucks.  I may only be saying that because I have been following the program for a week and I gained 1.8 lbs.  I mean what the fuck.  It must have been my mother’s day celebrating.  Or the vodka.  Apparently you have to count vodka into the whole point scheme.  I need to create a diet that allows unlimited vodka.  I’ll work on it and get back to you.

Let’s talk about the movie Frozen.  I bet you’re sick of it right?  Not me.  Because Mini HATES it.  I mean seriously.  Go figure.  I swear it’s because she can sense I want to watch it.  She literally cried when I put it on today.  Real tears.  And then asked me to watch the Magic School Bus.  I know, it is more educational, but still.  I want to belt out the words to let it go, not watch Ms. Frizzle go explore the human nose while I’m eating lunch.

I need a recording device in my brain.  I am too busy lately to write everything down, but on a daily basis I think to myself, god I need to remember that.  And then days later I’m like huh?  It’s a shame really.  I want to hang on to every memory possible.  Especially the funny ones.  The ones that make my kids, well, kids.  Like when Mini asked me why her poop was brown.  And got pissed that I didn’t know the answer.  On Mother’s Day no less.  What a day to feel like you failed your toddler.  I am supposed to know everything.  Maybe I will google it, (I’m just terrified I may accidentally click the images button) and have the answer for her over breakfast tomorrow.  😉  But yeah, if you know how I can either record my every thought, or boost my memory, let me know.

How come I had my second baby and still feel like a first time mom.  I have a bazillion questions.  Some of my recent google searches include: How do I get my baby to sleep through the night?  What do I do if my infant sounds congested?  Does my baby poop enough?  They say motherhood is like riding a bike.  Yeah, I get that.  Although I haven’t heaved my fat ass onto a bicycle in quite some time and for the love of god I don’t know if I would make it around the block.  But really…I became a baby pro when Mini was 6 months.  I knew it all.  Then I was a toddler pro.  Again, a know it all.  Now I’m back in infant stages feeling like a complete newbie and I hate it.  Oh well, that’s what google is for right?  Middle of the night feedings = research everything there is to know about baby that you should have done while pregnant but you thought you knew it all.  Damn it.

What are you thinking???

 

The Life

I’m Right Here

Underneath this rock.  Let me climb out for a second and say hi.  I have about 30 seconds.  I am choosing to write instead of eat or bathe.  But don’t worry.  I’ll just take some oreos into the shower with me tomorrow. I’ll be fine.

So after 3 weeks of sitting around and showering only to put a new pair of pajamas on, I decided it was time to get my shit together.  I had to figure out how to go about our daily activities with Joey in tow.  Things had just gotten so easy with Mini.  We had a routine.  How we got in the car.  How we got out.  How we walked around the stores.  You know, with her grabbing handfuls of toys and then me prying them out of her hysterical hands at the exit door.  It wasn’t always a breeze, but it was a routine.  And I don’t like change.  But I know I can’t stay home forever.  Or I will gauge my eyeballs out with a dull pencil.  So I woke up one morning and said this is it.  It is time.

Naturally it took 2 hours just to get out of the door.  Every time I was about to walk out, someone either shit themselves or needed a snack.  In my efforts to keep it simple, I decided we would just take a ride to the art store.  I wanted to get Mini some new art supplies to keep her busy when I am busy with Joey.  Seemed easy enough right?  Until we pulled up to the store and I took a good look at the baby bjorn.  I mean what the fuck is going on with all of those straps???  After cursing to myself that I probably should have practiced in the house, I figured the parking lot was a good a place as any.  So I got out of the car to figure it out.  Praying the directions didn’t blow away as I tried to navigate what clips into what, and differentiate the arm holes from the leg slots, all while both of my children started screaming in the car.  People were walking by staring.  I was doing my best to avoid eye contact.

Finally I got it around my body.  Shoved poor Joey’s legs into what I assumed were the leg holes.  Clipped in the head support straps.  Whisked Mini out of her carseat, and got moving towards the door.  Halfway across the street I thought to myself, well done Danielle..you’ve got this, and then looked behind me to make sure I didn’t lose/drop any children yet.

So my thoughts on being a “baby wearing mama”?  First of all, it is amazing.  Talk about hands free.  Joey passed out in the depths of my boobs, so I had to keep checking that he was breathing in there, and I ended up with a pacifier indent in my cleavage.   Fine with me.  I’ll take a quiet kid anyway I can get one.   I was able to pick out new art supplies and pull random bottles of glitter and sticker packs out of my cart at the same time.  Thanks to Miss Mini who takes shopping to a whole new level.

My one question is, why do people feel like they need to talk to you because you are wearing a baby?  Does it make me soft?  Friendly?  Because I assure you, I do not want to have a conversation with you as I am trying to reprimand a 2 year old and calm down an infant who is 2 seconds past his feeding time, and totally not having it.

“Do you like your carrier?  I was going to get one for my granddaughter.”
“Actually it’s my first time using it.  Is the baby still in there?”

That pretty much got the point across.  I am sure in the upcoming months I will have a better hold on everything and be friendlier, but not on day one people.  I was in survival mode.

The other great thing about the carrier?  You can wear it in your house!  Hello.  I started to panic the other day because it was time for Juliana to eat dinner, and Joey was starting to fuss and needed some mama attention and there was just no way I could do it all at once.  There are only so many meals I can make with one hand while rocking a newborn.  So I had the brilliant idea to grab the carrier and wear Joey around the house while I got Mini situated.  (You may be thinking, uhh yeah, we all do that.  But this is new to me!  I felt like a genius!)  So, it was a little scary and difficult opening the oven (and I do not suggest it).  And I don’t necessarily think he enjoyed it when I dropped rice on his head, but such is life.  Once again we survived.

So all in all the baby carrier is a success.  I am a total pro now.  We have gone to the library, museum,  grocery store.  You name it.   I’ve got this.  Just like everything else in life, it took time and practice.  And patience.  That is what I really need to work on.

Well my 30 seconds is coming to an end.  I’ll be back again real soon.  Promise.  XO

Oh and in case you needed a visual…

I know, I know.  It took us so long to get out of the house and I didn’t even put mascara on.  Don’t judge.

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