Extreme Makeover

I think I score 2 more points on Nancy's Bloggeritis Quiz because I just spent money to have my blog designed. Yep, hard-earned moolah that, if invested now for Little Guy's education might, in 20 years, have actually paid for two weeks of his college tuition. (Little Guy, will you ever forgive me?)

Thank you to Kelly at Nello Design who designed my new template. I wouldn't be surprised if Kelly has a dart board with my picture on it due to what a high maintenance client I was. However, she never let on, and is all-around awesome to work with. Kelly also just designed Stacy's new Lollipop site. I highly recommend a visit over there if you haven't checked it out yet.

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Oh, and on a totally random note, I have to say that I am somewhat disturbed by the fact that of all the pictures on my blog, this is the one that has gotten the most clicks in the past two days. So what's up with that? Come on, site meter doesn't lie, people.

Evening Ritual

~to my son on the eve of his first birthday~

You are cradled in the crook of my arm
And yet
You still reach up for me.

Little fingers touch my face.
You seek a piece of my hair
and place it in your hand.

It comforts you.

Night air flows in through the window behind us.

Skin to skin
we sit together in semi-darkness.
As we do every night.

You study my face from this cozy place.
Do you recognize me?

I am the girl who has been waiting for you.

Before you were you and I was me
You were there
Part of me
A promise.

Now, it is I who reaches for you.

I smooth your hair.
I relish your baby smell,
how you suckle...

It comforts me.

I do not want this day to end.

Post Party Vent-a-Thon

DEAR ABBY:

Is it poor etiquette to RSVP to a birthday party and then not show up? What about RSVPing "yes" and then calling the night before to say you can't come? Cuz when I throw a party expecting 30 friends and family, I expect 30 friends and family to show up. Not 25, not 20. THIRTY. If I expected 20 to show up, I would not have purchased the extra sandwich wraps from Costco, nor would I have spent more for the large veggie dip platter.

And what's with all the lame excuses? Just listen to a few of the gems dished out to me by relatives:

Excuse: Oh poor me, I have the sniffles. I don't think I can make it.

Retort: Dude, unless you have the f-ing flu, you better get your butt over to this party. Now.

Excuse: A parolee led police officers on a high speed chase that ended just a mile from your house. Now the main street that leads to your place is blocked off so...I don't think we're going to be able to come.

Retort: Whaaat?? Well, hey, this is city living. You better just park your vehicle and walk in. I don't care if it is 109 degrees.

Excuse: I had my DUI hearing yesterday and afterwards I got into a fight with mom and dad and now I don't want to come to the party because I can't stand to be around them one more second.

Retort: Get. Over. Here. And then hand me a dishtowl so I can hit you over the head with it.

GAH! See what I'm dealing with Abby? It's so frustrating.

Sincerely,
Miffed Mama
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DEAR MIFFED MAMA:

These people sound like boobs. Are you sure you're blood related to them? I say you're better off without 'em anyway. The people who came are the people who count.

*****
DEAR ABBY:

Thanks. I knew they were boobs, but it helped to hear YOU say that. Oh, and I must say that there is some good news. All of Little Guy's one-year-old buds showed up. I guess only mommies know how truly important the first birthday is.














Oh yeah, baby. I've been waiting ALL year for this.

I've Always Wanted to Go to Hawaii

(Thanks, everyone, for all the baby birthday wishes you left on my last post. I know I said I wasn't going to post this weekend, but I just got a new bloggy renter that I have to introduce!)

Please welcome Kailani from The Pink Diary. This week she was almost killed by her cat AND she found out that she's being sued. Yikes! On a positive note, she may be hangin' with Oprah this week.

To visit her, just click on her blog under "check out my lovely renter" on the sidebar. Please tell her I said "Aloha"!

Party Time

I'm going to take a little break from posting for the weekend because I'm busy planning a shindig for a certain someone who's turning one on Saturday. I'm not going to say who the party is for, but I will say that his initials are L.G. and that I've posted about him before.

Here's the low-down on the party:

Theme: race cars, Dora the Explorer, blue

Place: Our House

Invitees: 30 of our closest family and friends, including 5 one-year-olds. (Yikes! 5 one-year-olds? What was I thinking?)

Weather Forecast: 109 degrees (aka, hotter than hell)

Activities: cake eating, present opening, and baby oogling

Here's hoping for lots of fun and an air conditioning system that doesn't break down. Wish me luck!

*****

Oooh, sitting in water is fun....


...but Mommy, this thing is kinda chintzy. What happened to my Target Splish Splash Fantasy Pool?

The Art of Mommy Multi-Tasking

(*Note: this post references my boobs)

Have you found that being a mother takes, like, a lot of time out of your day? Somehow, I didn't really fully anticipate what a time hog this whole motherhood thing would be.

During my pregnancy, I was in such denial about this that I actually enrolled myself in a four-week knitting class so that during my maternity leave I could make cool-looking scarves and then sell them to the hipster stores downtown….cuz I was gonna have sooo much time on my hands.

Right.

When I entered r-e-a-l-i-t-y, I realized that not only did I not have time to knit scarves all day, I barely had time to groom myself. Seriously.

It became instantly apparent that I needed to learn how to multi-task like nobody’s business. And I became the queen of multi-tasking. For example, I almost always read my mail when I need to spend a little *ahem* extra time on the toilet. Husband has to be home, of course, so that he can watch Little Guy, but I’ve found that I’m able to feel less guilty about spending a little “me” time in the bathroom if I’m also sorting our mail.

Now, the biggest time-robber of all for me has been breastfeeding. I think I've mentioned this before, but I wanted to continue exclusively breastfeeding when I went back to work so I’ve been pumping at the office 2-3 times a day for a while now. Recently, I began to feel like I wasn't being very productive at work with all the pumping breaks I was taking, but I didn’t want to give up pumping either.

And then a solution occurred to me. Why don’t I just pump in the car? Now, don’t freak out. I don’t drive myself to work. I wasn’t going to be pumping and driving at the same time. No, see, Husband and I carpool to work. He drops me off and picks me up every day. He even picks me up at noon so we can have lunch together. (Yeah, sweet deal, huh?) Anyways, that’s what I’ve been doing for the last few weeks. I pump twice in the car—at noon on our way to lunch and at 5pm on the way home. It’s the ultimate in multi-tasking, and I highly recommend it to anyone who is pumping. The seatbelt does kinda get in the way, but you can shove it to the side pretty easily, while still abiding by all the seatbelt laws.

Perhaps the only caveat I would issue is that if you do decide to try this, don’t pull up next to a big rig at a stop light. Cuz those guys sit up pretty high, and they can see right into the passanger side of your car...which can be pretty damn embarrassing when you've got your boobs stuffed into plastic breastsheilds.

Trust me, I know.

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(*Shameless attempt to get you to read this post. Did it work? Huh, huh?)

Monday Morning Quickie

It's the beginning of the week and I'm sure you have a TON of blogs to read. Your bloglines are probably 5 pages long and you're getting the sweats just trying to figure out how you'll get through all that reading AND find time to parent your children. So I'm gonna keep this short. I just have one quick question for you:

Should I be worried that this guy spent 6.7 minutes perusing my blog recently?

Just askin'.

Junkie

Scene: Our bedroom. 11pm. Husband is in bed lying in the dark. I walk into the room. Placing one knee on my side of the bed, I lean over to where he's lying and kiss him on the cheek.

Me: Goodnight, babe.

(Huband shifts towards me with an obvious interest in "cuddling" and gives me another kiss. I let him kiss me and then pull back, moving off the bed.)

Him: I thought you were coming to bed??

Me: No, I was just coming to say goodnight to you.

Him (annoyed): Well, where are you going?

Me: I'm just gonna get on the Internet for a little while.

Him: The Internet?? It's 11pm!

Me : I know. I'm not going to be that long. I just want to read a few blogs.

Him: *sighing*

Me: I'll just be a little while. I swear. (*lying through teeth*)

(Me: heading out of the room...)

Him: Junkie.

****

Well, I've said it before. Blogging IS a lot like doing drugs. So, um, anyone wanna do a line with me?

Money Well Spent

OK, so that pool I told you we bought last week? Well, we just tried it out for the first time, and all I can say is....

...totally worth the $29.99. Totally.


On another note, I have a new renter hanging out on my sidebar. Please go say "Hi" to Fidget at Finding Yourself Despite Yourself. Today she's posting about trolls. She recently got a horrible comment on her blog, and she's not the only one who's fallen victim to this kind of nastiness. Please go visit her and leave a nice comment. I'm sure she'd appreciate the love!

What Would You Have Done?

(Updated Thursday, 6/15...scroll to bottom of post for Part Deux)

I don't think I ask for a lot from the Husband. I really don't.

I ask that he puts the toliet seat down so that if I have to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, I won't fall into the toliet.

I ask that he helps me remember to keep hand towels in our bathroom, and that further, he picks up his boxer shorts after he showers so that we don't repeat the embarrasment of having a guest stoop down to the floor to pick up what they think is a towel, only to find out they are about to wipe their face with Husband's dirty shorts.

I ask that when I say to him, for the first time ever, "Honey, do you want to read one of my blog posts?", that he at least feigns interest rather than merely skimming it quickly and then saying, "Is THIS what you do all day?"

And finally, I ask that when I call him at home on his day off and ask him to bring Little Guy to my office so that I can introduce him to my co-workers, that he will dress our babe in attire fitting the occasion.

I expect this because I have clearly specified the type of outfit that I want Little Guy to wear--an outfit appropriately cute and fairly conservative....something fitting for a visit to a government office where he will meet his mother's co-workers for the first time ever and charm them with his dimples and chin rolls. I expect he will be wearing a plaid romper with a color-coordinated onesie underneath or maybe denim shortalls layered with a Baby Gap tee, or perhaps even his striped seersucker. I expect this because these are the outfits that I have offered as examples of how he should come dressed.

However, this is what he arrived wearing.

If you're wondering, that is the Virgin Mary on the front of his shirt. This is a Mexican outfit that my brother bought for my son on Olvera Street. It's a great outfit. A beautiful outfit. An outfit that shows off Little Guy's Mexican and religious heritage all at once! But not at all what I had pictured Little Guy wearing when I walked him through cubicleland to meet my co-workers. Call me a conformist, but I just wanted him to show up in a frickin plaid jumper with a pair of Robeez on, damnit!

So I ask you. What would you have done in this situation?

a) Tell Husband to take Little Guy home, change him into his plaid jumper, and bring him back to the office.

b) Take Little Guy through cubicleland with the Virgin Mary outfit on. Screw anyone who tries to make fun of him!

c) Kick Husband's ass.

d) A & C

e) Other (please describe)

You tell me what you would have done, and then I'll tell you what I did.

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Edited to add: OK, so this is what happened...

When I saw what Little Guy was wearing, I was pretty peeved. The extent of my irritation almost made me implement Choice "A." However, I knew we didn't have time for that, which made me even MORE peeved. So peeved, in fact, that I immediately began implementing Choice "C".

But before I could get a really good kick in, Husband pulled a back-up outfit out of the diaper bag. Apparently, he knew I might get be reluctant to show Little Guy off in the Virgin Mary outfit...(again, great outfit, but wrong occasion)...so he packed away another outfit just in case.

I felt just a wee bit bad as I changed Little Guy into the cookie-cutter prepster jumper, but that's what I did.

The way I figure it: Little Guy is due for a visit to Husband's office real soon. And I have just the outfit for him to wear...

Walking the Gauntlet

Suddenly she found herself surrounded by an all-powerful Light,
and she knew then that God was before her. She fell to her knees, and from the burning bush she heard Him say:

"I shall place four Target stores within a 20-mile radius of your home. I shall tempt you with faux-Pottery Barn furniture and other affordably priced home accessories (in addition to clothing, baby gear, and electronics). You shall be forced to choose between shopping and saving for your child’s college education. You will be tempted many, many times, and it will be an arduous journey."

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Target. It's a dangerous, dangerous place. I swear, I drop more cash there than a drunk gambler at an Indian casino. Let me describe to you my most recent trip to Target, and then you tell me if I have a problem.

Scene: Me, clutching a scrap of paper in one hand with the words “baby pool” scrawled across it. My husband, following me with our 11-month old in tow. On the way into the store, I tell him: “I only need to get this ONE thing. Just the swimming pool. We’ll be in and out. I swear.”

"Swimming pool. Swimming pool....Focus. Focus. Do not look at ANYTHING else," I tell myself as we enter the store.

We walk past the clothing section. Uh, Target clothes? Eh, not so great. But wait! Are those t-shirts really on sale for $5 each? That’s not a bad deal. And I totally need some new t-shirts. Where else will I find a t-shirt this cheap? For $5 each, I don’t even need to try them on. Medium looks about right. I'll take five in a variety of colors.

OK, moving on…

What are we here for again? Oh yeah, the swimming pool. Would that be in the toy section or the garden section? Well, we'll just meander through...

Oh, shit, how did we get to the shoe aisle? Oooooh, these sandals are pretty cute! Is there a size 9 anywhere? Bingo. I’ll just flip off my shoes and try these on real quick. I don’t usually wear gold, but I think I like them. Husband, what do you think? Do these look cute on me? Oh, good. Good answer. OK, I’m gonna get these then.

Now on to the garden section…for the swimming pool, right? Right.

Oh what do we have here? Pottery-barn esque furniture at reasonable prices. My favorite part of Target! Do not look, I tell myself. Do. Not. Lo….Too late.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a totally cute retro red and sliver barstool. Love this! But wait. I don’t have a 50s-style kitchen. This might look kinda weird. Plus, I don’t really have a place to set up stools. Hmmmm. Well, perhaps this is just the inspiration piece I need to get started on a kitchen remodel. "What do you think, honey? What? OUCH! Don’t pull on my arm like that?! OK OK, I’m coming."

Finally, we arrive at the swimming gear aisle. I don’t see any child-size plastic pools. I only see pools that seat 10 adults. That’s not what I want.

Somewhat dejectedly, I head towards the checkout counter to pay for my t-shirts and new shoes. While sliding through my credit card, I turn around to see what the lady behind me is placing on the counter. Ooooh, is that a ride on toy?!

My own transaction is barely completed and Husband is already out the door. I wave him back inside. "LOOK. LOOK. I’ve been wanting to get one of these for Little Guy. Let’s go back in and get one."

(At this point, I actually think that my shopping frenzy was causing me to salivate uncontrollably.)

Husband protests and heads back out the door. I, of course, head back into the store with the eager determination of a firefighter dashing back into a burning building. I grab a ride-on toy off the shelf (Yes! One left!), and as I'm walking out of the store, I catch a glimpse of something I didn't see before in the swimming aisle. It's the ultimate baby swimming fantasy.

I am now in full zombie shopper mode and drool is running down my chin.

Husband has come back into the store looking for me.

"I’m SO glad I came back into the store to find the ride on toy. Look what else I found! This is the coolest baby pool I’ve ever seen. Little Guy is going to LOVE it."

"What? Why buy that?" says Husband. "He can just run through the sprinklers…for free!"

"Yeah, but he can’t really run yet. And we can only turn on our sprinklers every Tues, Thurs and Sun. What if we want to have some water fun on Saturday? We just MUST get this."

And we did. And the total bill came to around $100 for everything we bought. Even though I had planned on spending only $15 for a baby pool. But like a good little addict, I can rationalize all of this shopping behavior, as I needed every item I purchased.

And as far as the pool goes, sure it will take us 5 days to blow it up. And yeah, our dog will probably pop it with her claws as soon as we start using it. And OK, I guess we could have used the sprinklers to save a buck.


But doesn’t this pool look TOTALLY awesome? *wipes drool off chin*

This Meme in Pictures

I've been tagged for a meme by the witty and wonderful Debbie at i obsess. In turn, I tag carriebrett, great day, catherine, and kristen.
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Twenty years ago I was in 4th grade at a Catholic School. That's me with heavy bangs up near the top. Our principal was a nun. My fondest memory of her was when, in 8th grade, she told me that I was going to go to Hell for extortion after several first graders complained that the brownies we had sold them at the bake sale that I organized were extremely small and not at all worth the 25 cents they had paid, which by the way was SO not true. (We were forced to reimburse 25 cents to each first grader who had bought a brownie. Not surprisingly, there were quite a few first graders who did not buy a brownie, but who got in line for that 25 cents. It was perhaps my first lesson that life isn't fair....and that sweet-looking nuns can be meaner than hell.)

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10 years ago I had to go on a blind date to my Senior Ball because, hey, it's hard finding dates to the prom when you go to an all-girls Catholic school. At least it was for me. (Note: I am totally bummed that I can't find my prom picture for this post. Suffice it to say that I wore a completely whorish short silvery dress and had WAY too much make-up on. I have no idea what I was thinking. In the picture, my date looks like he's a bit confused as to how he got there. I think he was a friend of a friend of a friend or something like that. I was hard up for a date. Really hard up.)

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5 years ago I got engaged to the love of my life. He likes to leave me at home to golf a lot on Saturdays, which kinda sucks. But on the other hand, he doesnt' mind cleaning our bathrooms and that kinda makes up for it. Cuz cleaning bathrooms...eww.

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1 year ago I was pregnant. 9 months pregnant. In the summertime. And it was hot. Reeeeeaaly hot. And I sweated a lot. And there was much stickiness. Cuz it was hot. Did I mention how hot it was?

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Yesterday I got a major craving for something sweet.

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Today I bought myself some vanilla ice cream and some Midnight Moo Chocolate Syrup at my favorite store, Trader Joes. Cuz the post-pregnancy belly flab ain't going away whether I eat ice cream or not so I might as well.

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Tomorrow I will eat a big bowl of what I bought today, with lots of swirls of Midnight Moo. And I will add chopped almonds to it. And it will be very good. So good that I will lick the bowl.

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P.S. There's also a "3-years ago" entry and a "next year" entry that you're supposed to do but it's 12:21am and I must. get. sleep. I can't believe I'm even up at this hour. 'Night all.

Welcome, Mommy on the Verge

Mommy on the Verge is renting a cot in my pad this week. If you haven't visited her before, go click on her purple icon on the sidebar. She has a cute post about nursery rhymes up right now. Please stop in and pay her a visit!

11-Month Milestone

First steps. They're such a big...um,...er,...step in a child's development. When I imagined how it would happen, I always pictured Little Guy eagerly lifting one chubby little foot and stepping towards me, arms outstretched, tumbling happily right into my arms for a scrumptialicious hug.

And that's almost how it happened...

However, in reality, this is how it went down. Last night I made a batch of my favorite smoothies. (See picture below and click here for the awesome smoothie book that I took the recipe from.) I sat Little Guy down across from me on the rug in our family room so that we could share the delicious rasperry concotion together. One spoonful for him, two spoonfuls for me. One spoonful for him, two spoonfuls for me.

At some point, I think it became clear to him that he was getting shorted a spoonful or two because all of a sudden he rose from the ground, steadied himself carefully on both feet, and then, with his eyes fixed intently on the icy goodness I was holding, he pumped both fists in the air, grunted twice (I kid you not), and then took two Frankenstein-like steps in my direction, hands plunging straight for the beverage.

As I wrestled the smoothie away from him, careful not to let any of the pink iciness fall onto my cream colored shag carpet, I realized that these were officially his first two steps.

I couldn't believe it. Eleven months have flown by so quickly. Suddenly his babyness seemed to be slipping through my fingers just a little bit too fast. I wanted to freeze time, to remember exactly how he looked in his long john PJs and little bib, with his pink moustache and messy fingers.

Yet, no matter how much I wished I could bottle his babyness in that moment, I couldn't. So instead I opted to give him the last four spoonfuls of our smoothie. After all, he earned it.

Deep Thoughts on Breastfeeding

Boobs and teeth. They just don't mix. No sir-eee.

This goes double when baby's teething. Which for my Little Guy, happens to be right now.

So, earlier this evening, after inspecting some fairly scary teeth indentations left after his bedtime feeding, I felt compelled to do the following Google searches:

"bite" and "nipple"

"baby" and "bite" and "nipple"

"baby" and "bite nipple off"

"breastfeeding" and "bite off nipple"

I am happy to report that the Google searches did not produce anything that would indicate that a baby could actually bite his or her mother's nipple off.

So, all you mamas out there who are currently breastfeeding or who plan to breastfeed in the future, please join me in heaving a huge, collective Phewwwwwww.

In Defense of the Hubby

Dave may leave me at home with the baby on Saturdays to golf. A lot. And his housekeeping skills may leave something to be desired. But when it comes to women's rights...? Eh, he ain't that bad.

You see, while many men wish that Michelle Wie would just stick to the LPGA like a good little female golfer (*pat head, 'run along now...'*), Dave actually hopes that she makes history today by becoming the first woman to qualify for the U.S. Open.

And the fact that he thinks that way, I think, is very cool.

Cool enough to forgive the last five Saturdays he left me to go golfing?

Perhaps. But just this once.

Blowing My Mind

I've always had kinda weird, random boy crushes. That is, I've always had crushes on guys where my friends would be like, "Huh, you like him? Why?"And I wouldn't know why. It was just a certain je ne sais quoi that would attract me.

Today I realized I have a crush on Criss Angel. You know, as in Criss Angel Mindfreak, the illusionist who has a show on A&E?

It's not like I'm really into magic or anything, but I stumbled upon a Mindfreak Marathon and became captivated. I watched almost every single episode. This guy does things that are absolutely incredible. I've never seen anything like it. He levitates, makes people disappear, displays amazing psychic abilities. The whole time I watch his show, I'm like, "What the bleep?!...Holy bleep!...How the bleep?!"

If you haven't seen it before, check out this clip where he walks through glass or this clip where he walks up a building.

Anyway, I'm befuddled by this crush. I mean, the guy is pretty weird to say the least. The lead in to his show is like watching a scene out of Twin Peaks. And then there's his black makeup and the cape he wears. I'm not really into the whole Marilyn Manson look. I usually like my men sans make-up.

And yet, there's something about him. Maybe it's his totally hot bod. Maybe it's his mysteriousness. Or maybe it's his obvious talent at all this illusiony stuff. Whatever it is, it is really disturbing to me that I have this crush on him. And I want it to go away immediately.

I mean, has mommyhood turned me into a total whack-o? Am I the only one who has crushes on random weirdos like this?

Despite the fact that this is totally unsettling to me, I do highly recommend catching his show so that you can see his amazing illusions for yourself...and so that you can check out his hot bod of course.

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More on actual baby-related happenings next week...this IS a mommy blog after all.

Dear Kirk,

How could you do this to me? I thought I knew you. I thought we got each other, you know? And then you go and do this. I mean, it’s been a long time seen we’ve seen each other and everything but I just thought...I don’t know, that somehow things would always be the same. That I would always be that girl who had a big crush on you and you would always be that cool guy in the crop top muscle shirt, jean jacket slung over one shoulder, charmin' me out of my cotton knee socks. What happened to that happy-go-lucky-kid who used to like to party and break the rules once in a while?

How did you go from this...


















...to this?













Don’t get me wrong, I think that some of what you’re doing is great. I like the fact that you appear to care a lot about other people and that you seem to have a good heart.

But then I hear this other stuff you’re saying and I’m like, "Whaaaat?" I mean, do you really think that I’m "heartless" if I don’t walk the streets and tell people about God? Or that I can’t have "my own thoughts" about what God is like? Oh, and please don’t tell me you really count "taking the biggest piece of chocolate cake" as a sin? Cuz if so, I’m going to hell for sure!

And what, may I ask, does Candace think about all this?

...Oh my God, you’ve converted her too?!

Let me be frank here. It’s not that I’m not spiritual, or for that matter, religious. Cause I am. I earned my stripes through 12 years (yeah, count them, 12 looooong years) of Catholic school. And after that torture, I still go to Church now and then.

But I'm just saying, enough with the guilt trips already. I know I break several of the Ten Commandments on a regular basis. I really don't need my 1980s Growing Pains hearthrob to remind me of it.

Well, I'm probably rambling here so I'll just end by saying (and I truly believe this) that as long as we keep givin', we can take anything that comes our way. Baby, rain or shine, all the time, we got each other, sharin' the laughter and love.

Fondly,
MotR

Who me?

You know when someone's waving at you like they're all excited to see you and you swear they must be looking at the person behind you cuz why would anyone be that happy to see YOU, so you turn around but no one else is there, and then you realize, yeah, duh, they really ARE waving at you? And it kinda makes you happy inside? Well, that's what I felt like when two of my favorite bloggers, Mega Mom and Something Blue, chose to give me a perfect post award for May.

I am extra excited because it means that I get to add another button to my sidebar. You ladies read my last post, huh?

But seriously, I am honored, excited, and quite stunned to be your choice. Thank you.