Lovely Toddler: Facing Your Fears (Namely, Mine)

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NOTE: Don’t read this if your’e eating or about to eat or squeamish. Just a friendly PSA ūüôā

So I have a totally irrational fear of throw up. Mine and anyone else’s. My husband can attest that he never witnessed me throwing up the entire decade we were together, and when I was pregnant with my first I fell into hysterics because I felt like I was about the yak. Spoiler alert: I didn’t. (The mind is stronger than the body, my friends.) So you can imagine that one of my greatest fears prior to even thinking of having kids was one day having to deal with that inevitable kid vomit. I guess I’ve been fortunate that in Little Miss’ short three years, I’ve never had to deal with it and off I lived in ignorant bliss.

Until now.

This past weekend I had the brilliant idea¬†to take Little Miss¬†on a special Mommy-Daughter date to a nearby bakery where I was going to order a baby shower cake. After waiting for the crotchety old man who seemed to be running the show, we were finally seated in front of his ornate desk. Little Miss – with excitement shining in her eyes from all the cakes surrounding her – opens her mouth to say something… and a stream of vomit promptly flies out Exorcist-style. I guess it’s true what they say about your mom instincts kicking in, because despite my extreme hatred of this particular bodily fluid, I quickly flew to her side to comfort¬†her when another stream came spewing out. Towards my face. I totally know what projectile vomit is now. Guys, it TOUCHED MY FACE. Seriously. Is there anything more disgusting?

The even more amazing part? I didn’t do a thing but continue to sit there and rub her back while she emptied the contents of her stomach (undigested grapes and all) in five short heaves all over her shoes, my shoes and the grumpy old man’s carpet. Yea, he was NOT happy. Basically threw me a roll of paper towels and a plastic bag and walked off in a huff. Not a single question of whether she was all right. But that’s ok, I get it, it’s gross.

Obviously, I didn’t order the cake there. Nor am I ever showing my face in there again.

Life is all about timing my friends. How this happens the one hour she was out of the house all day is beyond me, but maybe the Universe is trying to teach me a lesson in facing my fears. And you know what? It wasn’t so bad.

Lovely Baby: A Day in the Life…

This post is mainly for posterity so that one day if I perhaps have baby fever again, I can look back and go, NO. (I kid, I kid.)

4:30am – Baby awake, has broken out of Miracle Blanket, and we all know that once one arm is free, it’s over! Bring her into bed with me in desperation.

6:30am – Alarm goes off. Wait, didn’t I just fall back asleep? Agh.

7:00am – Nursing the baby as I hear the toddler yelling, “Mooooom, the sun is awake!” over and over and over. Tough luck kiddo, you’re just gonna have to wait.¬†

7:00am-8:00am – Utter chaos as we rush to get dressed, change baby and toddler (one day I will have the energy to potty train, I swear), gather together all my essentials (purse, pump, bottle parts, laptop, ahhh!) and rush out the door.

8-8:45am – Commute to work while I pump. I’m always terrified of being pulled over and having to reveal what’s under the cover. I am ravenous and my mouth feels as dry as the Sahara, but ahhh… at last some alone time.

9-5pm – Work aka “me time”. Realize I have milk stains on my pants and spit up on my shirt. Oh well. That’s what jackets are for. Finally get to eat some semblance of breakfast at 10am. Dread pumping every. single. day. It never gets easier, just more annoying. The day flies by most of the time.¬†

5-6pm РRace home. 

6pm-8pm (that’s on a good day) – Chaos again as we rush to get dinner on the table, kids fed, sometimes bathed, in PJs, and in bed.¬†

8pm-10pm – The toddler did NOT feel like going to bed tonight. Neither did the baby. Crap. Back and forth from girl to girl. Head wants to explode, I’m so tired.¬†

10pm-midnight – Get the baby down. Wash pump parts, bottles, dishes, etc. How is there SO much stuff to wash everyday?! Get everything ready for tomorrow. Maybe squeeze in a shower if I’m feeling extra motivated – I’m probably not. Too exhausted to even want to watch TV. Finally, at long last…time for bed. Praying the baby does not wake up at 2am and 4:30am like she did the night before.¬†

Rinse and repeat. At least I get to wake up to this:

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Happy almost Friday, ya’ll!

How Being a Mom is Like Living in the Wild

Little Miss so tired she tried to sleep inside a present.

Little Miss so tired she tried to sleep inside a present.

Sorry for the long delay. sleep-deprivation + stress =  no blogging. Little Miss was super sick with some mysterious virus and getting her last two teeth at the same time, which, as all you parents know, means parental hell. Multiple doctor’s visits, a trip to the ER and lots of forced syringe-feedings and infant Advil later, I am happy to say that all is fine and well and we have two shiny new teeth to show for it.  I’m constantly amazed at how fast we forget what the newborn days were like (this is probably why people end up having more kids), because these past few weeks were a major reminder. Anyways, in my 2-4 hours of sleep-a-day-daze, I got to thinking how motherhood is just like living in the wild.

  • There’s no such thing as weekends. Lions in the wild don’t know what a Saturday is, or feel extreme joy for Friday. Because for them, every day is the same. They have to survive and feed their family every.single.day. No breaks. Just like parenting. Long gone are the days of sleeping in on a Sunday. Now anything past 7am causes me to repeatedly thank my toddler for “letting mommy sleep in today.”
  • You always sleep with one eye (or ear) open. Animals in the wild do this so they don’t get eaten by surprise. We do this because we’re also¬†responsible¬†for another small living being. That and the constant¬†hum and crackle of the baby monitor that’s always (why is this?) on our side of the bed.
  • You eat on the go what you can when you can.¬†With a newborn you literally have no time to eat, so you just eat whatever’s in front of you, or not at all. With a toddler, going out to eat is a whole different ordeal, and as a full-time working mom, who has time to cook?! And when baby is sick/teething/growth spurt, etc., forget about it – I’m lucky to eat or drink anything before noon.
  • What’s a shower?¬†Daily showering is a thing of the baby-free past. So is personal grooming and¬†hygiene.¬† My go-to hairstyle of late is a messy bun, emphasis on the “messy”. I also remembering when taking a shower was a luxury I looked forward to. Now it’s turned into ugh-I-can’t-go another-day-without-showering-and-not-looking-like-a-hobo-but-just-want-to -sleep-and-it’s-so-cold dammit. And here’s a true confession: I wore these same pair of leggings (yes, the mom-uniform du jour) yesterday morning, to bed last night, and woke up and am still wearing them to work today. Don’t judge. I bet those zebras aren’t washing themselves in the watering hole every day either.
  • There are days where simply surviving is the goal. ¬†The past few weeks my mantra was “I just have to make it to bedtime.” No fun activities, no aspirations of fresh and healthy meals, just simply make it out alive. ¬†I doubt mama bear wants to have to hunt daily to feed her cubs, but she does so because she has to. So we put one foot in front of the other and go on.

Then you go to bed only to know you have to get up in a mere few hours to start it all over again. But you do it. And you keep doing it. A) because, really, you have no other choice, and B) because even when it sucks and is horrible and you’re tired beyond belief, ¬†you love ’em and when they smile and kiss you, it melts your weary heart.