Free Time? What’s That?

I have a confession.  I always get a slight tinge of jealousy on Friday’s when my non-kid friends or colleagues are so excited for the weekend, presumably because they have ‘free’ time to do as they please. I, on the other hand, have forgotten what ‘free’ time means.

I listen to them speak about their upcoming trips to tropical destinations, and can feel my mouth dropping as I imagine myself on a beach with a Corona.  Those thoughts then turn into hallucinations before someone snaps me back into reality, “Holly, are you listening?”  Um no, I was living through you and you ruined it d-bag!

 Don’t get me wrong, my nights and weekends are filled with family time and I enjoy every minute.  However, I do (sometimes) miss the days of sleeping in, OR just sleeping at all.

 As parents we know our ‘real’ job doesn’t begin until we come home.  Our free time goes something like this:  Drive home, unload kids, cook them dinner, cook you dinner (because they NEVER want to eat what you eat), bath time, brush teeth, story time, bed time, your shower time, then is it already 10 pm? Your bedtime. Ex-haus-ting!  Oh and if your kid is sick, then you are really screwed because you will probably be up all night cleaning up throw up and a** explosions. You are sure to enjoy that next day at work!

Of course when you have a night like this, the next day is when non-kid friends have to tell you how they are so tired, and so busy and expect sympathy from you.  I wish I could blurt out,  “Shut your face!  Wait until you have kids, then tell me how tired and busy you are.”  I refrain because I remember when I was a non-kid person, and that always would annoy me.

In the end, I have to admit listening to non-kid people whine about their ‘busy’ lives makes me feel like a bad a**. Because not only am I the HBIC at work, but I do this after pulling all-nighters cleaning up vomit and poop.  Take that losers.

I find this picture hilarious. Enjoy.
I find this picture hilarious. Enjoy.

Round Two. Ding, Ding

Since Husband and I are beginning the daunting task of trying to get pregnant again, I have been reflecting back on my first pregnancy.  In doing so, I am hoping to pep-talk myself so I don’t chicken out.  Isn’t it amazing how women tend to forgot? We choose to only remember the good things.  I already shared some of my birth story (see: Push Gifts?), which was in comparison, relatively easy.

Overall, I would say my pregnancy was pretty easy too.  However, being the little nugget that I am with a giant husband, my son filled his ‘womb’ pretty quickly with his long legs. Carrying around this basketball player for nine months (it’s actually 10 months- those liars!), definitely took its toll on me some days.

In a quest to prepare myself for round two, I have put together the following list of things I am, and am not looking forward to.

Things I AM NOT looking forward to would include (TMI):

  • Peeing on myself when I sneeze, cough or laugh (Ugh)
  • Not being able to go poo (yes, women do this too)
  • Nose congestion (I think I had a borderline addiction to Afrin last time)
  • HUGE boobs that hurt with the slightest touch (or even breeze!)
  • Having Husband shave my legs because I can no longer reach them
  • Watching the scale climb, and there is nothing I can do about it
  • Awkward sex (No bueno)
  • Ugly clothes (VERY ugly clothes)
  • Waddling when I walk (Stupid round ligament pain!)
  • Giving up 9 (10) months of food and drinks I like (I am a foodie)

Things I AM looking forward to would include:

Still thinking……. Oh yes:

  • Excuse to take naps on weekends
  • All those hormones make my hair and nails pretty
  • All those hormones make you have really ‘dirtty‘ dreams. (Sorry Mom. Ladies you know what I am talking about.  I would wake up blushing!)
  • Feeling baby move (Pretty awesome)
  • Hearing the heart beat the first time (Emotional)
  • Anticipation and excitement of meeting the person you have already bonded with
  • Finally, and most important- the moment they are born.  There is nothing more amazing than that moment you hold your child for the first time.  It is indescribable, and brings me joy just thinking about it.

I am glad I finished with the ‘things I AM looking forward to’, as the excitement is starting to build.  So, who’s coming with me?  It is always more fun to be miserable with someone else, right?  Now back to baby making.

preggo

Silence Equals Trouble

As mothers, you quickly learn every different sound and quirky characteristic your child has. We can pick out our kids cry or laughter in a room full of kids. We also know when something is not quite right.

You know the saying: Silence is golden? Well this is not always the case when referring to parenting. We hear stories time and time again. Sometimes in the daily grind you lose yourself in the chaos. You usually snap out of it when you suddenly hear a moment of silence. Instincts then kick in, what are they doing now?

silencetroubleThis happened to me the other night while cooking, I asked Husband to watch baby as he was trying to watch football (first mistake). As I peek over the island, I found my son, a.k.a. Master of Destruction, painting a picture on the wall with Nutella. Awesome.

A colleague of ours shared his ‘silence’ story the other day, and it is too funny not to pass on. It went something like this:

His son was in his room for naptime. After a few hours his wife’s ‘silent’ instinct become apparent. She went up to check on him only to find him on the floor and his room in complete shambles, a total wreck. He had pulled his drawers out of his chest-of-drawers and stood in the bottom to break through the wood. He took all his clothes out and threw them on the floor. He also pulled all the wipes out, maybe in an attempt to clean up the baby powder he used to ‘make it rain’. Either way, when she asked him what he was doing he responded, “Looking for shorts.” Oh, just looking for shorts?

With this, we would officially like to change the phrase from: Silence is golden to Silence is trouble!

Push Gifts?

I think Hallmark needs to start spreading the word regarding push gifts. They made up Sweetest Day right? Why not Push Day? What are push gifts you ask? A gift, (preferably expensive), that women EARN after giving birth. Let’s be honest here, yes it takes two to tango, but women do all the work when making a baby! You lose your body, your thought process, your hair, your bladder, and during the actual birth: your dignity.

pushgifts

During labor, I made my husband promise to not look down there. I told him he would never look at me the same again, and I threatened divorce (being dramatic, of course), if he broke his promise. I also didn’t want to see the look of horror on his face, which would in turn, freak ME out. “Eyes up here buddy!” I yelled.

I was in labor a total of 18 hours, 10 of which I went drug free. Disclaimer: I wasn’t trying to be a hero by holding out on the epidural, I was just more afraid of a needle in my spine then I was of contractions. I waited until my pelvis felt like it was going to shatter before I begged for drugs. Finally at 7:00 pm, my little boy was here. I had my son at a teaching hospital, so as you can imagine, I had several medical students asking me questions like: “Describe your pain on a scale of 1 to 10.”

Really? I’m in labor idiot. Furthermore, my pain is a 12 because I am expected to answer ‘Captain Obvious’ questions from you!

No, I didn’t really say that but was definitely thinking it. I obliged like a good patient. Hopefully, in the grand scheme, witnessing my son’s birth was birth control to these young med students.

Three weeks after having my son, I was at home alone trying to figure out this mom business when my phone rings. It’s work. I answer to hear my bosses voice, “Hey, I know your son is only three weeks old, so you probably can’t come up, but your bonus check was just cut and…..” I cut him off, “I’ll be right there!” I wrap my son up and go wait for the bus on the corner. I was beyond excited. Not only did I work up until the DAY I went into labor, but also I had one of the busiest quarters of my career and no one was going to stop me from collecting my reward.

As I arrive at the office, everyone is amazed to see me and wants to hold the baby, chit chat, etc. I, on the other hand had different plans. I wanted my check! Once I collected my money, I got in a cab and went straight to Michigan Ave, the mecca of shopping in Chicago. I had my heart set on a pair of shoes for over 2 years now, but the guilt always kept me from buying them. As I walk into the store I b-line it for a beautiful pair of shoes lined with red soles. A woman cautiously approaches me as I am still suffering with post-baby hormones. Translation: I looked like a hot mess. My clothes were hanging off me because I couldn’t yet fit in my regular clothes. I was profusely sweating from hormones and I had circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. “May I help you?” She asked. “Yes, I’ll take these, size 6.” I command. My feet were still swollen and my hips still healing so I couldn’t even try them on. The sales woman, trying to make awkward conversation, says, “Will you be wearing these for a special occasion?” “No.” I reply, “These are my -I just pushed a baby out of my vagina- gift.” “Oh,” she says uncomfortably. “Well, congrats.” She hands me the bag and flashes a fake smile. I turn and walk out of the store feeling like a million bucks.

They say having a baby is equivalent to 20 bones in your body fracturing all at once. I have only worn those shoes a handful of times in the past two years, but when I do.. Momma looks good! Moral of the story: My push gift was worth every penny.

Trying is Trying (warning TMI)

tryingistrying
Contrary to what single men and women think: trying for a baby is miserable! With my son we started trying by not trying to not have a baby. You know, very organic, carefree, la vida loca!! While on our honeymoon (taken two years after we got married, because the wedding burned holes in our pockets) in Spain, I started to feel nauseous so I immediately ran to the Farmacia, as I was certain I was pregnant! As I am roaming back to the hotel down La Rambla, my brain starts to panic:

HOLY SH*T, could this be? Am I ready for this? Will my kid think I am a lunatic too? Will my career suffer? Will Husband think I am fat? Am I having buyer’s remorse? F**K, I just spent the past two weeks drinking enough to kill a small animal! My baby already hates me and is probably drunk….! Stop talking to yourself these Spaniard’s are going to think you are some crazy American!

Much to my surprise, after a few minutes of waiting and trying to decipher the instructions in Spanish (Spanish-Spanish, not American-Spanish), the results were clear: NO EMBARAZADA. There it was, SHOUTING at me that my baby maker had failed.

Suddenly I was sad. The thought of drunken baby kind of made me smile. Now that I had a taste of what it might have been, I was hooked. And when my mind is made up, I make sh*t happen. Poor husband became a victim of my mission! I barked, “Listen up! From this day forward we are having sex everyday until this baby maker makes a baby, got it!” He obliged. I’m not sure if it was out of excitement or out of fear of the crazy lady, a.k.a., me.

Fast-forward a month. I am walking through the grocery store, have a dizzy spell and eat it. By eat it, I mean, I fell so hard and so ugly, you would have thought an invisible linemen from the Chicago Bears tackled me. I walked to the car frazzled, and called my doc to schedule an appointment. I tell her I am getting old and forgot how to use my legs.

When I get home, I think: what the hell, might as well. I grab a pregnancy test and before I can even flush, the stick has TWO LINES! I run out waving it in the air to husband. He jumps and exclaims, “I DON’T KNOW what that means!” I yell, “WE ARE PREGNANT!” In my head, I thank baby maker for answering my prayers. Husband grabs two champagne glasses, fills them with orange juice, and runs over to me to toast as we both are crying. I proclaim, “This will be a boy, and we are naming him Sebastian, my saint.” Was this rollercoaster worth it? Absolutely! And I will be doing it again.

Sweet Nothings to Dirty Diapers

sweetnothingsAh the allure of young love.

I can remember when I first met Husband. I was so nervous yet so comfortable around him. I often had butterflies just seeing his name pop up on my caller ID. It was hard to get work done, because I couldn’t wait to get home so we could be together.

We would chat for hours about our dreams, career paths, and places we wanted to visit. In reality all we really could do was talk, because we were definitely too broke to be out and about. He would send sweet, and sometimes sexy (sorry mom) texts to make me blush and feel loved.

Since Sebe has joined our lives, those texts and conversations have definitely changed. When I sit back and actually think about it I will laugh out load. Most texts are now along the lines of, “Don’t forget to pick up the kid today,” or, “Your son kicked me in the baby maker while I was trying to dress him this AM.”

It’s funny how this has become our new normal. Our relationship has turned into a deep love and amazing friendship so much so that we now like to talk about poop and stinky feet. Ah, the allure of having kids.

It Only Takes One

On a serious note (Me…serious?): I want to take a moment to remind everyone how powerful words are, especially to children.

itonlytakesoneMany times as a child, I felt lost and in need of guidance. I was not someone who saw in myself the confidence and strength that others may have seen in me.

Of the many people who shaped who I am today, one of the first who stands out in particular is my 7th grade teacher, Mr. Kratz. I asked him to sign my end-of-year notebook that all my friends had penned their goodbye notes in. When I got home, I slowly began to comb through all the well wishes and the one that still resonates with me today is the one from him.

What a GEM in a coalmine, you are destined for success. Sincerely, Mr. Kratz.

He may have written that in everyone’s book, but at that moment, I believed him.  Who knew 20 years later, I would still tell myself that when I am facing hardship or feeling discouraged. Teachers: Know that your words do not always fall on deaf ears.

“I am a success today because I had someone who believed in me, and I didn’t have the heart to let them down.” — Abraham Lincoln

Bright Lights Big Elmo

So my husband and I took the kid to NYC in August. New York is an entirely different experience with a toddler.

While walking through Times Square I tried to take a picture with my baby. He, of course, had other plans in mind. Trying to keep a hold on him, he starts screaming, “I want picture with Elmo!”

brightlights-bigelmoI am not sure if you have been to Times Square, but there are these people dressed in costumes — FULL ON — hairy beast costumes in 95+degree weather. They must need the money bad.

I continue to tell my son, “Elmo probably did bad things last night, so no pictures with him.” To prevent a colossal breakdown my husband hoists him up on his shoulders and in an instant this majestic pose comes over my son.

I am not sure if it was the sudden change in altitude (my husband is 6’5), or if he was drawing inspiration from all the beautiful faces on the billboards. If that was the case, the sky is the limit Sebastian…. now go make momma some money…!