Moms do not get sick

Holy cow moment ?: Did you know moms do not get sick? no we are not superwoman....well yes we are but no its not that we can't get sick it's that we do not get sick time. Who knew? Perhaps the bout when the whole family had the flu would teach me that moms cant get sick-it really sucks to nurse an infant and control the urge to run to the bathroom.
Or maybe the eight colds I have had-thank you daycare. But no; Its the double ear infection mom got. I'm sure it was Gods lesson to me. I apparently didnt feel bad enough about my daughters ear incfection I needed to join in. good news though, as an adult we get narcotics!!!!

So mom doesnt get to be sick even when sick but at least I get the good drugs!

Nap Time in the Mom Car

Holy Cow moment ?:  The best place to nap is not your bed, not mom and dads bed, not daycare, not a pack and play or a swing, not in mommy's arms but in the mom car. 

I deduce the reasoning is that the mom car has it all - see previous posts.  We have a blanket (well 3 really), a super comfy seat, several favorite toys, climate control, the light rumble of the engine, what’s not to love. Apparently we get this from dad because I get carsick.  I do not sleep well in cars and frankly I hate driving.  My child?  She laughs at daddy’s car noises, is calmed by played ‘slalom course’ in the stroller at whichever store we are in and loves to stand in daddy’s lap playing with the steering wheel.

I’m in trouble. 

Surviving Parenthood

Post in comments your horror stories so I don’t feel alone.  We all have so many its going to be hard to pick – you know like that time the darling child projectile pooped on the wall, or the first diaper when the baby slid down it (thank you hospital for the inclined bed) and proceeded to get tar poop all up her back, or that time……….

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Holy Cow moment ?:  When someone says you will have good months and you will have bad months no one ever says – you will have BAD months.  Capital BAD – as in the apocalypse can’t hold a candle to this kind of bad. 

My child although the center of my world (by necessity this week rather then because of my undying adoration), isn’t making being a mommy easy.  I could take Sunday when we didn’t sleep – AT ALL, I could handle Tuesday when we slept for roughly 3 hours, I could handle Wednesday when – well you get the picture.  What pushed me over the edge was when at midnight I picked up my coughing child to comfort her and BAM – projectile baby spew everywhere.  I will spare you the details. But at this point I gently sit down the adorable ball of mess that has somehow been linked to my loins and now I just stand there.  I am soaked, arms being held away from my body in pure confusion as to what to do next.  What does one do in this situation?

Well I will tell you what this mom did.  I very methodically removed my clothing in order to avoid any additional mess.  I then removed my child’s and we had bonding time until I could muster up the comprehension that I now needed to redress each of us and clean the crib, the carpet, another load of laundry, keep the dogs from licking the mess up and keep the baby company.  I repeat no one ever prepares you for the BAD weeks.  Halfway into cleaning up this fabulous mess, that had to occur at midnight, I call my husband who is lucky working, lucky for him not me or his ears.   Bless the mans heart he does offer to come home; but like any headstrong, frustrated woman in the throngs of chaos we decline.  Why you ask?  To make the man in our lives pay for something.  Who knows what the poor guy is paying for but he will be forced to listen to us cry, blow up, sob and lastly become rational again.  So for mom’s there are BAD weeks for dads there are pure HELL weeks. 

How do men stay in a marriage with a woman and children?  Well in my case I think it’s fear.  Would you want to leave an insane person who could most likely figure out stalking, man slaughter or torture techniques that the agent worlds used to  use?  I think not. (Actually in my case I am lucky and it turns out he loves us even if I am a bit crazy and our child a little bit of a pain.)

I survived, I really really did.  But I question if my sanity is in tacked.  HAPPY FRIDAY!!!!!

Holy Cow I really thought I was a rational person.  I thought I handled crazy well; wrong.  An eight month old has beaten me.  One more win for the child and one more loss for mom.  Maybe the infant years are really to prepare us for the losing battles of when our children are teens, when the fights are verbal and might just hurt a little more.  Oh right – the whole child bearing process is a learning period for something else – IT NEVER STOPS.  There should be a metal similar to the Purple Heart for surviving parenthood. 

What I did not know

I didn’t know that tiny hands could grip so tight that you would get bruises and have to explain “No you are not in a bad relationship and yes it is from your small child.”

I didn’t know that a face could turn as red as an apple one second and be normal the next. Temper much?

I didn’t know that a diaper could outweigh the small being who polluted it. This is beyond gross, no wonder blow outs happen a diaper can only take so much.

I didn’t know that you could survive on two hours of sleep. In fact 2 hours of sleep can make you so loopy and happy that you fail to see the stress of the situation you are in. This must be God’s way of making things work out.

I didn’t know that someone who can’t even talk could push your buttons. In fact they can push you within an inch of your sanity.

I didn’t know that afore mentioned tiny human could get you to the ledge where you are just about ready to jump and then smile pulling you away and back to reality.

I didn’t know that I could fit a watermelon out of certain areas and survive. (I am not sure I actually wanted to know this one)

I didn’t know that I could actually sit down for extended periods of time without getting anything productive done and enjoy myself. Although if I have to hear the A,B,C song again from a toy I might run said toy over with my car.

I didn’t know I could balance a child on my hip, clean the dishwasher, eat dinner and listen to the TV and possibly talk on the phone all at the same time. The child on hip while cooking or cleaning seems so 1950’s quaint, but you know what it’s real.

I didn’t know I could find extra money in an already stretched budget. Had I known I had the money for daycare I would maybe have been debt free prior to becoming a mom. (Of course if you figure out the cost of daycare a year you might want to cry even if you are finding it in your budget.)

I didn’t know that I had repressed children’s songs in the deep corners of my mind. At three o’clock in the morning those little random tidbits can be very helpful.

I didn’t know that, although I am already a magnet for strangers and their life stories, that now I would not only hear about someone’s infertility back in 1960 but also I will now also not be able to leave Target or any other store under at least an hour – and all I needed was bread.

I didn’t know that my house was a death trap until a two foot tall mouth showed me just how many little things we had.

I didn’t know how many family members you never knew you didn’t want to see would decide to suddenly be your nearest and dearest – at least while the baby is small.

I didn’t know that falling asleep could be so hard. As my child has shown me you need a little dance-flip, twist, roll, pelvic thrust, twist, turn, roll, cry, get stuck in a blanket, cry more, spin, thrust, roll-and now fight sleep a little more.

I didn’t know that I could raise a child, or that anything would ever be more important that my two dogs and husband. Now I say – what husband? The dogs on the other hand are too noisy to be forgotten.

I didn’t know that I was missing anything until I had my child. Now my arms feel bare without her, seeing her at the end of my work day makes my heart feel full and the stresses go away.

I guess I just didn’t know I didn’t know a lot. Thank you my twenty pound, two tooth terror for teaching me all the things I didn’t know. Of course there are those times that I don’t call her a terror – when she’s sleeping anyway.

The skinny or not so skinny

Holy cow moment ?: This isn't really "wow" this is more like "really".

When we're teens we have great bodies. You know what I mean-toned butt, great legs, awesome arms pretty much we were just freaking awesome. But did we see it? Noooo! Our hips were too wide, our hair the wrong style, our boobs were too big. Yeah really - I had teen girls say that to me back in the day. Well teen enemies of mine these babies were made for being a mommy! (yes thats my comeback to those girls who I no longer know anyway, so who cares if it's lame). Ok, back to my moment.

So fast forward to college/post high-school the 20's. We now know what we have and if we're smart we flaunt it, in public anyway. Free drinks, no cover charge, yeah who's got assets now teen enemies (maybe I should let it go?) Anyway, we have it all, the appeal of a girl newly blossomed into a woman but do we really see it? Noooo! Our hips are too big ( still), my arm has this dingle dangles, my hair is still the wrong color, if I could only lose 10 lbs. It's just sad because really we rocked it.

Now we enter the years that stigmas are made of. It's true, now things are starting to sag -well everywhere. Your stomach is bulging and you blame age, or childbirth. If you don't have a kid by this age you will need to find something to blame, men can be blamed for a lot but kids are easier. It really does seem like the day you left your 20s you just broke and you keep breaking. Now we just look back fondly on 'the good years'. It's not a good sign when you wake up and dash to the shower praying to avoid a mirror. You nolonger fear bloody Mary, you fear the 'wtf' (what the fudge) factor. That's when over night your body did something new and unattractive.

Well ladies let's just put on our big girl panties and dance around no matter the age. Yeah I want to lose weight but I wanted to do that yesterday, last week, last year, last decade heck I probably left the womb , not crying from birth, but crying because I no longer am in a liquid environment where you automatically seem to weigh less. Pools are love hate, love that your man can pick you up in the water, hate wearing the suite that reminds said man you really don't weigh 10lbs.

Being a mom I still have that awful chemical imbalance every woman has to always need to lose weight but now I'm worried that I have a daughter who will now start the cycle.

So holy cow are we ever happy with the body we got dealt? I think I love pregnancy because I had a reason to flaunt the belly not hide it- now I'm back to hiding, too bad it got harder to hide.

I'd love to know think everyone is going to take a moment and dance around in their skivvies saying 'screw you mother nature I like me for me' and then feel free to eat chocolate because you just burned some calories from dancing.

Mom car update

Don't know what size windshield wiper you need? Have no fear the mom car is here-so I have to clean. I would prefer to look at it as over prepared organization. I was able to find the old cardboard from an old set of wipers- problem solved.

Two birds one stone-found the size of the wiper without looking through the book (chances are that might have been quicker) and i threw out some garbage.

Friday nights

Has anyone else noticed I've gotten lazy at counting my holy cow moments? Sorry but there are too many.

Holy cow moment ?: Boys,Booze and bars - is what Fridays night used to be made of. Now it's babies, baths and bottles.

Yes there are similarities but I think the wonder is gone. There are still boys but now you're either married to one or raising them and in some cases both. Instead of bottles of wine or alcohol (no I have not abandon drinking all together but I'm tired as it is and so sleep deprived that alcohol really can't compete to the" high on life" feeling) the bottles now contain water, formula or juice. Bars - well if you ask my child her crib feels like a jail but I think those bars aren't the same.

Friday night used to be a night of wild parties now it's a night of "how early can I get to bed?" Friday night used to be for socializing but unless you count "can you say Ma-Ma...Ma-Ma" I think my social life has been limited to parties (birthday, christmas and the occasional family friendly gathering-see previous post on parties).

Holy cow I'm talking nonsense, cleaning purée from my hair, wearing sweatpants (Patton Oswald defends this practice), praying my child goes to bed early, watching wedding shows while folding laundry and daydreaming of 5 minutes with nothing to do. On a really crazy night I go to the drive through somewhere as a perk! Yes people, the drive through was actually made for us parents trying to avoid waking the baby while still getting out. The lazy people have simply taken advantage of the situation. (I wouldn't quote me on that).

Holy cow, I repeat, like in other posts, when did I grow up and why was I so eager to do it.

It must be the age...

Holy cow moment ?: it's party time!! Those words used to mean the party was not child appropriate and by the end of the night someone would be lost, someone would have thrown up, someone else would be involved in PDA, 'that guy' would be passed out like he did at every party, games involving adult friendly drinks would be played; well I'm sure you remember. By the next day some people would be rolling over next to someone they may or may not remember and others would be contemplating the fastest way to get to the tylonal. The parties actually didn't even end until the next day.

Fast forward about 5 years-same party but now most people are going home with their significant others, their spouses or one or two stragglers might head out to the bar since the parties are now ending at midnight.

Ok, fast forward another 5 years or so. Maybe things aren't so different. Today's parties still have some throwing up-usually everyone under 1 in fact, someone still passes out-probably everyone under 2, there's always the one who gets lost-yes they were told the upstairs was off limits but who listens, there's lots of PDA thanks to lots of chubby cheeks, still lots of drinking-although the majority of the crowd is drunk off sugar. So instead of no kids now you can't go 2 feet without stepping on at least 2 mini humans. I guess it's all in perspective as to whether things have really changed or not. Parties end at 3 pm instead of midnight ... So maybe things have changed.

Kids or no kids anyone reaching their 30's or above is seeing their parties transform from rowdy crazy drunks to rowdy crazy tooth challenged rug rats.

Holy cow when did I grow up? I actually bonded with two moms who's were scrambling to find burp clothes and at the end of the party we all smelled like baby spit anyway.

Quality mom car time

Holy cow moment ?: where would any normal, completly not insaine mom spend her time? In the mom car of course. Okay, so maybe this isn't the logical answer but my holy cow moment is what would you do to get your child to nap?

So as I sit in my front seat of the mom care listening to tiny snores I get comfortable. Random audio book I'd forgotten about, check. Bottle of water, check. Whats this I see...a granola bar and some crackers-food, check. Other then my neighbors questioning my sanity I have everything to survive my little ones 20minute power nap. Next time I should stash some wine in the garage-yes I'm actually hanging out In a parked car in the garage.

The idea has occurred to me to clean out said mom car while little one naps but what fun is there in that. I'd rather text message everyone I know to pass the time.

Holy cow moment: to get the dogs to sleep we'd go for a long walk. To get the kid to sleep I go for a drive. To get mom or dad to sleep I had dogs and then a kid. Ah the circle of exhaustion.

The evolution of mass mailings ...

Holy cow moment: As I received my mass txt birth announcement from a friend I couldn't help but think about what my children will grow up with. Up until the early 90's it was chain mail or mass letters with-wait for it- stamps. Slowly email sprouted into homes, taking chain mail and mass emails from USPS, really it just made these annoying mailings more prevalent and irritating, although they were easier to delete. Next came the intro to social networking, myspace, Facebook etc...now we can send out little gems of info like "I got a coke zero" or "I stepped onto the grass today". Next came the affordability to send mass text messages and Twitter... Suddenly you can't choose what your going to read.

I still don't think a mass anything takes place of telling close friends and family good or bad news. Also just because you think your emotional diarrhea was important in your head doesn't mean the remainder of the world wanted to be your therapist-that's why you have friends and no, social networks with "friends" doesn't mean that all 600 people who you "friended" are your near and dear, sorry if that's harsh.

Our children are going to grow up either thinking everyone cares about everything or that their parents generation was retarded. Either way us poor parents, aunts, uncles don't stand a chance at looking at all normal in validating the current social network craze. Good news though-we have officially figured out how to avoid ever having to talk to THOSE people who can't shut up, now you can read about their aging cat that no longer can control his bladder.

Is it bad my almost eight month old can use an iPod? Holy cow what is the world coming to?

This post makes me feel old...