The Evolution of Infants
At Mom Rush Hour at Chick-fil-A a few weeks ago, my toddlertastic son broke out of my grip and sprinted full speed into the crowded parking lot. I took off after him with his baby brother on my hip. (I would say the baby was “hanging on for dear life” but the truth is he is THE WORST holder-onner I’ve ever met. There’s no 50/50, Floppy McFlopperson let’s you do allll the work and then some.) As I maneuvered between parked cars trying to grab the toddler, I failed to notice where the baby’s head was in relation to a vehicle’s side mirrors…which is how I ended up ramming his face directly into one. Hard. Like, head-snapped-back hard. He cried. I apologized, never…
Random Acts of…Something
Beckett loves going to the doctor. He also loves the act of taking medicine (which totally worked to my advantage recently when I gave him shots of 100% carrot juice every day for, like, 3 weeks straight). Any time one of his brothers is sick, he tries super hard to be sick, too. Maybe it’s the extra cuddling they get. Maybe it’s the medicine they take. Whatever it is, he wants it. So, naturally, he was oddly jealous this morning when Hutton took his antibiotics. (Antibiotics for his 4th double ear infection in 3 months, by the way.) (….if you listen closely you can hear my essential oiler friends giggle with glee at the prospect of wheeling their…
…more like how do YOU doin’ (it)?!
When my 7 week old was screaming the other night – you know, during the “purple cry” hours of 6-8pm – I muttered some, “Oh hush up, you’re fine.” before opening Photo Booth on my computer. Because if you’re going to have an inconsolable child, might as well find a way to entertain yourself to pass the time. This is what happens with a third newborn. Had this been my first newborn, I would have been reciting the 5 Happiest Baby on the Block s’s while silently weeping, wondering where I went wrong and how to get a baby diagnosed with colic (whatever that is). Since it isn’t my first newborn, I felt great about…
Now Charging Admission
Yesterday, I contributed greatly to society by being a “model” at a clinic for pregnant women in crisis. They were having a nurse training afternoon with a sonographer, and I volunteered my services as the perfect pregnant specimen a pregnant lady not in crisis. The nurses trained on using the sonogram machine, identifying strange baby parts, measuring fetal things, etc. And I just want to help in any way I can, you know? Just kidding. I mostly wanted to see my baby and find out the gender and if that helps others in the process, PERFECT. So while checking out the baby goods wasn’t at the forefront of their minds, it was definitely on mine.…
Will we be buying bandaids or glitter? SOON.
I think we find out tomorrow whether we’re having a boy or a girl. Can I be honest for a second? Both options excite and terrify me a little. When we found out we were expecting a third, I expected to get lots of “I really hope it’s a girl!” or “For your sake…it better be a girl.” or “What will you do if it’s another boy?!” I wasn’t disappointed. The answer is: I have no idea what we’ll do. In either case. If it is indeed another boy…first things first, we’ll build an outhouse. Because boys have terrible aim and I’m totally over our bathrooms looking and smelling like…
The Concert that Changed Our Lives
Taylor had been telling me for the better part of a year about his friend from high school who has this amaaaaazing band (his words). I kind of shrugged it off because, honestly, who doesn’t have a friend from high school in a band? So several months later when I told him about this group I found on Spotify named Penny and Sparrow that he had to listen to, he just glared at me. Yes, same band. We’ve been obsessed ever since. I saw they were playing a show by us back in December, so I immediately bought tickets as a fun surprise for my guy. What started as a normal date…
Oversized Baby Discrimination
It’s no secret – I am the proud mama of a chunky baby boy. And by chunky I mean giant. He’s just a giant ball of love. It’s part of his charm. The dude is irresistable. (I would insert comment here about gobbling him up, but the fact that 3 separate people sent me Buzzfeed’s “There’s Actually a Scientific Reason You Sometimes Want to Eat Your Baby” article last week tells me I should steer away from future cannibalistic statements.) So, as the proud mama of a chunky baby boy, a sad reality has come to my attention. Something that needs addressing ASAP. The world, as we know it, is not designed for oversized babies. …
The Journey of Postpartum Baldness
Getting my annual haircut a few weeks ago, my hairdresser Shelby inquired about my rather unique hairline. She pointed to a patch of baby hairs and said, “What’s the deal with these?” I paused, unsure how to proceed. How much to tell her. I took a deep breath, and started in with my story. “Settle in, Shelbs. I’m going to take you on a journey that started 9 months ago, after the birth of my sweet baby. It’s a story full of difficulty. Of injustice. Of perseverance. It’s a story of….postpartum hair loss.” I didn’t realize I was a victim for quite some time. My newborn was projectile vomiting, my toddler was…
Dung Beetles & Canine Lasers
Last Saturday was a family day full of projects and errands. Midway through our excursions, we stopped in at King Wok for some lunch. (Not to be confused with King Wok II, also by our house. Just regular King Wok.) The mister and I are big fans of good Chinese food which, unfortunately, King Wok is not. It’s quite terrible, in fact. Very…gelatinous. We finished eating and started packing up to head to our next stop. I picked up the babe to change his diaper and my hands touched a wet bum. Never a good sign. I checked his back out and – sure enough – poosplosion. Honestly…my kids never…
Hutt the Gentle Giant
I made Taylor come home from work early the other day because I couldn’t deal. My eyes were being crazy and bloodshotty again, Hutton was extra screamy for some reason (possibly because I tried to sneak dairy into my diet – as if his digestive system wouldn’t notice – in the form of not 1, not 2, but 3…fine 4…break-n-bake cookie dough squares), Beckett wanted to play “where’d the (pretend) fire go NOW?” 837 times, and I literally could NOT keep my eyes open. I fell asleep on the couch, at the table during breakfast, putting out fake fires…I had sudden onset narcolepsy. Honestly, I thought I had sudden onset…
