The Other Woman

Every year we get the opportunity to wipe the slate clean and start a new. Many of us make resolutions to lose weight, pay off debt or lead a healthy lifestyle.  My goal this year is to reconnect with my husband and kick the other woman in our marriage to the curb. You may know her by the name of Siri.

Before Siri my husband and I would talk about our days or current events at the dinner table.  At bedtime, we would catch up on Breaking Bad and cuddle before going to sleep.  During our limited free time we would take walks around the city, grab coffee, dream up vacations we wanted to take in the future, or talk about our children.

There were times he fell into digital induced comas, but they were few and far between – until he met her.

I have to admit I first introduced them, which is something I now regret. My husband’s job required him to have a Blackberry, so he was not interested in getting an iPhone.  He was blissfully unaware of the instant obsession one gets when they get their first iPhone, and he liked it that way.  I begged him for months to get one so when he traveled he could Facetime with the kids and I at night.  I also wanted him to feed my addiction by playing Words With Friends with me.

Half way through the year his company finally switched to iPhones and then – I lost him. Siri, equipped with her sexy English accent he gave her, became the first woman he talked to in the morning and the last woman he talked to before going to bed.  She joins him in the bathroom, graces us with her presence at the dinner table every night, and even accompanies us on date nights.  There have been numerous occasions where he will have his laptop, iPad, the television and Siri all being utilized at the same time.  How many sports highlights, scores and games can you actually watch at once?  Who are you Jerry Maguire?  I’m afraid I have created a monster. Oh, and by the way he hates playing Words With Friends, so my entire plan backfired.


As of the New Year I will no longer be an enabler or a participant.  We agreed our digital obsessions, particularly his, have gone too far.  Ms. Siri is now banned from the dinner table at home and on date nights. When our kids are awake we will now focus on them without looking at our phones constantly. Sunday’s are strictly family days with limited gadget play. Finally, Siri is no longer welcome in our bed. I’m sure she can find her own out in cyber space and stay out of mine.

I’m confident her sexy English accent could never replace my warm touch. My husband would agree, or at least I hope.



To All the Father’s Out There: It’s Not You, It’s Us.

As you may already know women are innately crazy, especially when in regards to our children.  We are overprotective, jealous, and all-knowing when it comes to the well-being of our babies.  It comes from a place deep inside, and we are unable to tame it. So know the next time we yell at you for something you did with the kids, we truly can’t help ourselves.  We just see things completely different.

what mom sees

Right before we had our son a month ago, I sat down next to my husband and told him I wanted to apologize in advance.  With a puzzled look on his face he followed up with a hesitant,

“For what? Do I dare ask?”

“You’ll see after the baby is here, so remember this sincere apology.”

I wanted to apologize early because I remembered how I turned into a certified lunatic right after we had our first kid.  Nothing he could do was right when caring for our baby.

“You’re not being gentle!”

“His diaper is too tight!”

“Wash your hands before you touch him!”

“Cuddle with him!”

“Don’t cuddle too tight!”

“Don’t shove the bottle in his mouth!”

“You’re going to slow!”

“You’re not going fast enough!”

In the essence of time, I will stop there or else I could probably go on forever.

With our second kid I was hoping, (hoping being the operative word), to be less of a psycho, but I knew the odds were not in my favor.  I am a woman and I am also obsessed with my kids. Plus, just like in pregnancy a woman’s hormones are a complete wreck after the baby until her body gets back to normal.  This alone is a recipe for disaster.

I have tried to explain this phenomenon to my husband many times, but it’s hard to find the right words.  I usually start with saying, “No one loves these kids more than me,” which is true, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love them.  He’s a great father and I know he loves them deeply….just not as much as me.

These two are inseparable!
These two are inseparable!

All fathers must understand that we spent what seemed like a lifetime baking these kids.  We fell in love with them as soon as the pregnancy test boasted a positive sign.  We felt their hiccups and movements in our bodies. We gave up wine and sushi for them.  We went through horrendous pain and sacrificed our bodies to get our babies here. Once they arrive, it’s our boobs that leak when they cry.  After all this, the last thing we want is for someone else to harm a hair on our precious little miracles heads.

I want all fathers to know that the excessive nagging and micro-managing truly comes from a place of love.


Life (Or Lack Thereof) With a Newborn

As many of you know I just had a baby.  He is not my first, but in many ways it feels that way.  My older son is three, so it seems like he was a baby a lifetime ago. I thought I remembered what life was like with a newborn, however I was wrong. I only remembered the basics: sleepless nights, lots of poopy diapers and, of course, vomit comets.

I forgot how your schedule is so tight with naps and feedings.  You literally have no time for anything!  Showers are a luxury at this point.  Anytime I sit down to eat or try and shower the baby suddenly manages to wake from his comatose nap.  It’s like he has mom radar:  MOM needs 5 minutes to shove food in her face or wash her dirty booty – time for me to wake up!

I also forgot that I am the human equivalent to a cow.  I make so much milk that not only do I breastfeed, but I have to pump too.  This is beyond time consuming.  I’m trying not to complain because I know I am losing a ton of calories a day. Every night I pray the skinny fairy will continue to grant me all this milk, because it is undoubtedly helping me on the scale.

Already out of room!
Already out of room!


Another lost memory was when you get close to your newborn to feed them and their little heads shake side-to-side in desperation until their piranha mouths latch on. Newborns wiggle a lot, so along with their super human strength it makes it hard to calm them down enough to feed. While feeding they grunt and swallow loud enough for the neighbors to hear.  I laugh at this every time. I only pumped with my first son because he wouldn’t latch, so I didn’t realize how painful breastfeeding could be. Three weeks in and my lady lumps are pretty much numb, so I think I’m past the electrocution feeling you get when they first start feeding.  Dramatic I know, but ask any woman and she will tell you the same thing – it hurts!

I did remember the sleep deprivation. It seems worse the second time around, mostly because I now have two kids to tend to. Nights are always entertaining around here. My husband has been a saint with helping in any way possible even though he has to work.  The only problem is ­– he is a very heavy sleeper, and by that I mean I could blast a trumpet in his ear and he still wouldn’t wake up. It usually takes a dozen times calling his name and shaking him to wake him up. I, on the other hand, can hear a single drop of water drip in the sink and spring awake.  He also wakes up very confused and out of it. I always tell him to take a minute to gain consciousness before he takes our newborn down the dark stairwell. The other night he volunteered for the 2 a.m. shift, so when I heard the baby starting to wake I woke him up, then I turned back to the bassinet to comfort the baby until he came to get him. After a few seconds I looked back and my husband was gone.  Where did he go? Bathroom?  Why are all the lights off? What’s happening?  I called his name and then heard him coming back up the stairs.  As he came into view I saw him carrying our 30-pound toddler.  He did not just take the wrong kid!  Yes, he did. Before I could open my mouth he said, “Don’t ask, I have no idea what I’m doing.” He laid our older son in the bed then came and grabbed the baby.  The next morning we were in tears laughing.  This is one story he will never live down!


Overall, the biggest adjustment has been getting used to being a mom of two. Surprisingly my older son has been very accepting of his new baby brother.  When I saw him for the first time after the baby was born it was surreal.  Suddenly he wasn’t my baby anymore and he looked huge!  How did he get so big overnight?  Is he taking growth hormone behind my back? Stop growing so fast, my heart can’t take it! 

I feel so blessed to have my two boys and am enjoying every minute of this journey. My life feels complete. Now – if I can just get my husband to feed the right kid, I think we will be all right.


5 Things Husbands Hate About Pregnancy

Since my husband played a small role in making our babies, I thought I would throw some love his way by asking what he hated about pregnancy. I also asked some of my friends’ husbands the same question to see if there was a general consensus.  My hunch was correct and most complained about the same annoyances. Even though our men will never know (nor do I think they would want to know) what it is like to be pregnant, they have to deal with us – so why not let them b*tch too?


When I first asked my husband to give me five things he hated about pregnancy he wouldn’t take the bait. “Oh no, is this a trap for your blog? It’s not that bad and you’re the one going through it, so nothing really”  After a little eye-rolling, probing and swearing I wouldn’t get upset at his answers, he finally obliged.

Top Five Things Men Hate About Pregnancy:

  • First, he hates that I am always hot. Not just a little hot… like swamp a** hot. I insist on the AC being turned down so low that the house feels like we are front row at the Ice Capades. He now sleeps in winter pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt.  He also uses an extra blanket at night as I lie uncovered with a glass of ice water waiting for me on the night stand. Every morning he wakes up with the sniffles and a sore throat as I am wiping the sweat from my brow. He’s even tried turning it up in the middle of the night, but I always wake up and turn it down again. Checkmate guy – don’t mess with my AC.
Adam – every morning
Adam – every morning
  • I was surprised the AC was his first complaint, I thought it would be something regarding sex.  However, the sex came second. Obviously his pool of attention has diminished with each passing month. I won’t even cuddle because I am so uncomfortable and would rather wrap myself around my pregnancy pillow than him.  Plus complaining about my hips, back, huge belly and enlarged boobs is not sexy to him apparently. I would have to agree.
  • Thirdly he hates my super-power senses. Everything smells like rotten dead animal to me.  I can’t stand the smell of his face lotion and hid it from him until after the baby is born. I won’t cook come of his favorite foods and have even moved to a different table in a restaurant because I couldn’t be near the kitchen.  I think being a little high maintenance is better than vomiting in public wouldn’t you agree?
  • Next he hates the “nesting” stage. I usually have a very long honey-do-list every weekend. My nesting along with a mild case of OCD has taken over our free time organizing the garage, the boy’s room, washing all the baby clothes, de-cluttering, etc. He never complains and always does it, but I know after a long work week the last thing he wants to do is to slave away for a moody pregnant chick.
  • Lastly he hates that I share too much with him about the pregnancy. Imagine that – me share too much? No, it couldn’t be. I like to be descriptive with my symptoms to really bring home the point. How else would he know what I’m going through? You would think after eight years together he would get used to this, but he said during pregnancy my openness is more than he can take sometimes. He doesn’t want to hear about when I pee myself or that when your pregnant you can’t poop. He finished with, “Sweetie, some things are just better left unsaid.”

I’m sure there are more but I gave a limit of five. Luckily he only has eight more weeks to go to put up with me!

What are your partners’ complaints?





When You Can’t Imagine Your Life With Anyone Else

Because it is our sixth wedding anniversary, I thought my husband deserved a shout out. In life, we tend to forget to tell people just how much they mean to us, and that is one regret I never want to have – especially with him.

Just a little insight for those of you who do not know me or my husband: Adam and I are polar opposites. He is calm, collected and sometimes shy, while I am a do-now-ask-questions-later, sir-talk-a-lot, lunatic. I often ask him if I annoy him and he always so graciously replies, “No sweetie, you keep my life interesting.”

I remember the exact moment I knew I wanted to marry him.  It was Christmas time and we had only been dating a few months. My roommates were headed home for the holidays and I was staying behind in Chicago.  At the time, I could’t afford a plane ticket and figured I would use the down time to hunt for jobs and catch up on laundry. Adam was headed to Florida and was planning on staying there for two weeks. It was the first time since we had met we were not going to see each other every day. I was going to miss him terribly but, of course, I didn’t want to project that and look like a Stage Five Clinger. He continually asked me if I was going to be fine staying by myself and I kept assuring him all would be well. But when the day arrived for him to catch his flight…I was miserable.  The truth was, I didn’t want to be alone for the holidays.  That is a time to share with loved ones and family, and I was sharing my time with a Chihuahua, cold pizza and laundry. Awesome. 

This was how I felt... inside.
This was how I felt… inside.

Before I could fall into a deep pity party and drink myself into an eggnog oblivion, I heard a knock at the door. When I opened the door, it was Adam.  I just stared at him trying to comprehend what was happening.  Then he said, “There is no way I can leave you alone on Christmas.  I cancelled my flight.”

After my heart melted, my next thought was: Sh*t!  His Cuban mother is going to crucify me for taking away her baby son on Jesus’ Birthday! When I mentioned this out loud, he told me she agreed it was for the best too. After I stopped crying, we had a great Charlie Brown, cold pizza, laundry filled Christmas – together.  He had put me first, and I loved him for that.

Six months later we got engaged on the roof of that same apartment, adorned with white Christmas lights and a view of the Hancock building in the background. It was one of the best moments in my life. Like any marriage, the last six years haven’t been perfect, but they have been worth every minute.  I am so grateful to have found him, and couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.


Thank you for all the happiness you have given me over the years. I am forever indebted.


Your amazingly perfect wife, Holly XO


The Rules of ‘Engagement’ After Marriage

Our friends keep asking us to write about sex.  Okay ladies, we will take one for the team.  You’re welcome. Mom and Dad: If you are reading this, now is the time to log off. Thanks.

As wives we can all remember how we lured our husbands to love us in the first place.  All it took was one look, and they knew what time it was.  It was so easy to get them to do whatever we wanted. Okay, who are we kidding, we still use sex as a ploy to get what we want… and so do you.  (DON’T LIE!).


Unfortunately, times have changed. Back then we had less responsibilities, less stressful jobs, hot little bodies and more time on our hands.  As that time filled up, sex became lower on the totem pole. It also became somewhat of a chore.  We know as wives we have a duty to make our men happy, but guys, help us, help you. Very simple.

Here are some helpful hints you can share with your husbands if they want to get laid more often:

  • Numero Uno: Don’t ignore us all night, without so much as a, “How was your day honey?” Then once we climb into bed think it is go time.  The only thing going around here is ME – TO SLEEP.
  • Next, help out with the chores.  Studies show, (according to Yahoo!), when men help out with chores, women feel more appreciated.  Therefore more inclined to give it up. Hey, you can’t argue with Science!
  • If it is after 9:30 pm on a weekday, forget it…. immediately. 
  • When initiating sex during the work week, romance is not necessary.  You have about ten minutes before we fall asleep,  make them count!  We are a sure thing so stop wasting time.
  • Weekend sex, the rules are different.  Romance IS necessary. If you try to cut to the chase, we will feel used and fat. (Tip: we always think we are fat no matter how skinny we are.)
  • To clarify romance: This does not mean grab our butts as we are trying to cook or brush our teeth.  This caveman act is not sexy.  Sorry to burst your bubble guys, but it doesn’t turn us on.  Romance means massages, candles, take on an extra chores, draw a bath, etc. You get the idea (hopefully).
Nothing says I love you like alcohol!
Nothing says I love you like alcohol!
  • Last but not least, insist your wife reads 50 Shades of Grey.  The writing is horrible, however the content is smokin’ hot. It will work and it does.

I hope you enjoyed our Rules of Engagement.  Now pass them along and please feel free to add your own in the comment section below.


Holly & Kari




Bigger Than Holly Balls?

For those of you who do not know, my nickname growing up was Hollyballs. Why, you ask? Head out of the gutter people, I think you know the answer: I’m a self-proclaimed lunatic and nothing can stand in my way. My motto in life is: Make it happen. You can’t change anyone else, you can only change yourself. I rarely meet people who are similar to me. Most can only handle me in doses. Husband says his life would be totally boring without me, and he’s right! Just saying.

After about 3 months of dating Husband, he took me home to Florida to meet his mom. I was nervous, because not only is Husband an angel, but also he is Cuban. Translation: he has a Cuban mother. We all know Latin women LOVE their sons; they are Gods and can do no wrong. I thought with my type A personality, she would instantly turn into Jane Fonda in Monster-in-Law. I was tainting her perfect son, why on earth would she like me?


We arrived pretty late, so I really didn’t have much interaction with her on the first night. She had made the spare room up for his to sleep in there together. WAIT….what? She is letting me sleep in the same room and we are not married? My Southern parents would have put the kibosh on that real quick. OK, so maybe this Cuban woman isn’t that bad. We shall see.

The next morning she calls me out on the lanai (a rich person’s word for patio). I am a beer and hot dog girl from Converse, Texas, but I can clean up nice. As I step outside she has a photo album of Husband’s baby pictures. She says, “I thought I would embarrass him before he wakes up!” Then proceeds with an evil laugh.

Wow this broad may be kinda cool, I’m thinking. As she opens to the first page, it is a picture of her……..birth….to……him! Legit. I immediately BURST into laughter. She continues, “Oh, I’m sure you don’t want to see this, but look at him! He had such big balls as a baby!” I almost fell out of the chair as I say in my head: What the f**k is going on here? At that very moment, Husband walks out as he is sipping coffee and almost spits it out. “Mom, WHAT are you doing?” he yells. She states, “Oh stop it, just having some fun!” Husband turns and goes back inside riddled with embarrassment. She then turns to me and says, “Hey, want to go visit my friend who is a psychic?” “Umm ok,” I reply. I have to say, I knew I loved husband pre – Mrs. Cubana, but meeting her made me want to marry him. Here’s to having awesome mother in laws! Cheers.

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.