Well, the baby technically wasn't walking, she was being carried in her car seat.
Is it bad that Mila is only 4 months old and I already have 2 funny liquor store stories??
One involves a $6.99 sale on Yellow Tail and the other a broken bottle of tea vodka and a disapproving security guard. I won't go into the details, I'm sure most of the people reading this with kids have their own babies n' booze stories. For those of you that don't, kudos on your sobriety.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Exercising Demons
Just in case anyone was snickering at my misuse of "exorcising" in my previous post, I agree, what a dope! In retrospect, I think my mistake may have actually been a more accurate assessment of what happened.
Exorcising demons refers to the ritual process by which indwelling evil spirits, or demons, are compelled to leave a person's body. In my case, exercising demons just means they got a good workout, were very active for a while, and are now at rest!
I would never want to exorcise my demons, what a bore! Besides, I might need to call upon them again in the future - I'm good at the "taking names," but "kicking ass" is really their area of expertise.
Exorcising demons refers to the ritual process by which indwelling evil spirits, or demons, are compelled to leave a person's body. In my case, exercising demons just means they got a good workout, were very active for a while, and are now at rest!
I would never want to exorcise my demons, what a bore! Besides, I might need to call upon them again in the future - I'm good at the "taking names," but "kicking ass" is really their area of expertise.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
30 Minute Meals My Ass
F U Rachel Ray.
It took me 2.5 hours to cook dinner from your 30 minute meals cookbook. Two nights in a row. The latest menu was turkey sliders, summer squash and red pepper saute and roasted strawberries. Delicious? Most definitely! 30 Minutes? My Ass! It took me 30 minutes just to figure out what roasting means.
It took me 2.5 hours to cook dinner from your 30 minute meals cookbook. Two nights in a row. The latest menu was turkey sliders, summer squash and red pepper saute and roasted strawberries. Delicious? Most definitely! 30 Minutes? My Ass! It took me 30 minutes just to figure out what roasting means.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
I'm so chill I can't even think of a witty title...
Over a month has passed since my last post, and while I've been very busy with little Mila, I've wondered why I haven't updated the blog - suprised at myself that I've actually run out of things to say. Upon further consideration, I've realized that I haven't run out of things to say, I just have less things to bitch about these days (although my husband may disagree with that statement).
Pregnancy and labor for me was a horrific and frightening experience, period. I have friends that loved being pregnant, friends that were amazed and thrilled with the labor process, friends that might have shared some of my feelings about it - though I doubt they would have ever shouted their discontent from the rooftops as I did for nine months (ahem, correction -10 months). While I know that every pregnancy is different, I do wonder if its just my personality (or some flaw therein) that made my response to my experience so outrageous.
The demons were definitely exercised the moment Mila was born (I'm not insinuating that Mila is a demon...) but there are still so many challenges that I'm still facing - mainly this process of creating a whole new definition of self and more importantly of purpose. I kind of feel like these things will figure themselves out over time - I guess my more relaxed outlook has something to do with the awesomeness that is Mila and maybe a little bit to do with the fact that I can once again engage in the occasional cocktail. (don't judge me!) A friend said to me recently, "you seem so calm." And you know what? I feel calm - not like buddha calm, but probably as calm as I could ever be. I still have my complaints and worries and frustrations, but I don't feel like they're eating me from the inside anymore. But don't tell my husband about this confession of clarity and rediscovered sanity, I need to keep him on his toes.
I'm hoping this new found zen-ness will not interfere with my ability to write a hostile entry on this blog every now and again - but the tone may change a bit. I'll try to refrain from being one of those, "i'm so in love, she is so perfect, i'm so happy, blah blah blah." I'm assuming that is how everyone feels - plus, you've seen the pictures, I don't have to tell you how great she is - it's obvious she is the most perfect/adorable/smart baby ever, so we can just all acknowledge it and move on.
Pregnancy and labor for me was a horrific and frightening experience, period. I have friends that loved being pregnant, friends that were amazed and thrilled with the labor process, friends that might have shared some of my feelings about it - though I doubt they would have ever shouted their discontent from the rooftops as I did for nine months (ahem, correction -10 months). While I know that every pregnancy is different, I do wonder if its just my personality (or some flaw therein) that made my response to my experience so outrageous.
The demons were definitely exercised the moment Mila was born (I'm not insinuating that Mila is a demon...) but there are still so many challenges that I'm still facing - mainly this process of creating a whole new definition of self and more importantly of purpose. I kind of feel like these things will figure themselves out over time - I guess my more relaxed outlook has something to do with the awesomeness that is Mila and maybe a little bit to do with the fact that I can once again engage in the occasional cocktail. (don't judge me!) A friend said to me recently, "you seem so calm." And you know what? I feel calm - not like buddha calm, but probably as calm as I could ever be. I still have my complaints and worries and frustrations, but I don't feel like they're eating me from the inside anymore. But don't tell my husband about this confession of clarity and rediscovered sanity, I need to keep him on his toes.
I'm hoping this new found zen-ness will not interfere with my ability to write a hostile entry on this blog every now and again - but the tone may change a bit. I'll try to refrain from being one of those, "i'm so in love, she is so perfect, i'm so happy, blah blah blah." I'm assuming that is how everyone feels - plus, you've seen the pictures, I don't have to tell you how great she is - it's obvious she is the most perfect/adorable/smart baby ever, so we can just all acknowledge it and move on.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A Star is Bjorn
Yesterday I wore the Baby Bjorn with Mila for the first time. Talk about a miracle in a box! I was amazed as I walked around the house, able to do all those things I missed doing so much like unloading the dishwasher, vacumming, dusting....NOT. But it was cool to be able to chat easier online and actuallly make myself a sandwhich this afternoon. Mila is happy because she is able to walk around with me; I am happy because it is so much easier to mix my cocktails now that I can hold her sans hands.
Yesterday I reclaimed my boobs (I'm officially done!), today I've got my hands back - next I'll work on regaining my sanity.
Yesterday I reclaimed my boobs (I'm officially done!), today I've got my hands back - next I'll work on regaining my sanity.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Booby Trapped
I made my feelings on boob feeding very clear while writing during my pregnancy. Now that I'm actually engaging in the act on a daily (more like hourly) basis, I would love to be able to say that I was wrong. It would bring me great pleasure to tell you that Mila and I are so in love that I don't even notice the dull knife slicing through my boob pain that is the act of latching on. Alas, it is nearly just as awful as I thought it would be, and I only say nearly as awful because she is so damn cute.
Yes, once it gets going it doesn't hurt that bad - most of the time, but that initial pain makes me grimace and sputter a "why, you little..." every single time. And I don't want to hear it from any of you hippies that think I'm awful because breastfeeding is a beautiful, natural act that creates bonding - blah blah blah. Me running around the house half naked and fat, a leaking hot mess, is not beautiful.
I can hear you asking yourself, "why didn't she just use formula??" Can you handle the truth?It's because I am a selfish, lazy mommy that really wanted to lose weight but didn't want to start exercising right now. Hello, have you met me?? I'm glad Mila got the added benefits of the breastmilk, but my intentions were not pure. I guess with all I read I thought I would be a size 6 by now, I mean it burns an extra 500 calories a day, and I don't have time to eat anymore....but my fat ass is still in maternity blue jeans. What gives? I was really delusional, thinking I would walk away from this pregnancy with a whole new body type - that breast feeding would take me from an apple bottom to an hourglass shape before I even returned to work.
After one particularly difficult night, my mom asked me why exactly I was breastfeeding and I came clean about wanting to lose the weight faster. She told me this was a myth and basically I was an idiot...WHAT??? A quick google search of "breast feeding weight loss myth" revealed several studies that contradict all the pro breastfeeding propaganda I had previously read regarding weight loss. WTF. I'm not sure why I so willingly accepted the "facts" about breastfeeding (from pro breastfeeding sources, of course) without researching the topic about weight loss a bit more thoroughly. Probably for the same reason I ate nothing but canned chicken and pace picante sauce for 3 months in college - because someone told me it would be a a quick fix for my body image issues.
Being the sole food source for Mila has been a daunting task. So in an effort to lessen my stress, I decided to rent an electric breast pump to start exclusively bottle feeding Mila with the hope of moving to formula shortly thereafter. Of course I did not really research how to make this transition either, and the result is mommy have more milk instead of less and Mila being not so happy with all the gas from the bottles....help me! I feel trapped. Booby trapped.
Yes, once it gets going it doesn't hurt that bad - most of the time, but that initial pain makes me grimace and sputter a "why, you little..." every single time. And I don't want to hear it from any of you hippies that think I'm awful because breastfeeding is a beautiful, natural act that creates bonding - blah blah blah. Me running around the house half naked and fat, a leaking hot mess, is not beautiful.
I can hear you asking yourself, "why didn't she just use formula??" Can you handle the truth?It's because I am a selfish, lazy mommy that really wanted to lose weight but didn't want to start exercising right now. Hello, have you met me?? I'm glad Mila got the added benefits of the breastmilk, but my intentions were not pure. I guess with all I read I thought I would be a size 6 by now, I mean it burns an extra 500 calories a day, and I don't have time to eat anymore....but my fat ass is still in maternity blue jeans. What gives? I was really delusional, thinking I would walk away from this pregnancy with a whole new body type - that breast feeding would take me from an apple bottom to an hourglass shape before I even returned to work.
After one particularly difficult night, my mom asked me why exactly I was breastfeeding and I came clean about wanting to lose the weight faster. She told me this was a myth and basically I was an idiot...WHAT??? A quick google search of "breast feeding weight loss myth" revealed several studies that contradict all the pro breastfeeding propaganda I had previously read regarding weight loss. WTF. I'm not sure why I so willingly accepted the "facts" about breastfeeding (from pro breastfeeding sources, of course) without researching the topic about weight loss a bit more thoroughly. Probably for the same reason I ate nothing but canned chicken and pace picante sauce for 3 months in college - because someone told me it would be a a quick fix for my body image issues.
Being the sole food source for Mila has been a daunting task. So in an effort to lessen my stress, I decided to rent an electric breast pump to start exclusively bottle feeding Mila with the hope of moving to formula shortly thereafter. Of course I did not really research how to make this transition either, and the result is mommy have more milk instead of less and Mila being not so happy with all the gas from the bottles....help me! I feel trapped. Booby trapped.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Rock-a-bye Baby
So I've got the rocking chair down, I've got the bouncy walk down, I can change a diaper, I'm still boob feeding, I've even got used to sleeping 2-3 hours at a time. One thing I can't quite get right is the singing of lullabyes to baby Mila. I know that she responds to my voice when she is upset, and its not for my lack of trying - it's just that I usually don't sing out loud... not to myself in the car, not in the shower...in fact I think the last time I really sang out loud to someone else was probably in 5th grade choir. Also, because I've never been a real girly type girl, I have quickly come to realize I don't know many nursury rhymes or lullabyes to begin with.
Mila was just throwing a tantrum 10 minutes ago; I picked her up and started bouncy walking and talking to her. Then I started singing, it went something like this, (ahem...):
"Hush little baby don't say a word,
Mommas gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don't sing
Mommas gonna buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring don't shine,
Mommas gonna buy you....something that rhymes with shine."
Luckily she quit crying, so I just sang those same lines over and over again while trying quickly to think of something else to sing...you know what came to my mind? You'll never guess, so I'll just tell you the next song I crooned to Mila:
"This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me."
Wondering why in the world that was that was the song that popped into my head, I realized that it was from fifth grade choir! Mila then received a modified version of the entire recital, which was a patriot themed performance, including hits such as "Way Down Yonder in New Orleans," "Oklahoma," "Proud to be an American," "Big D", and many more!
I found this rather amusing, I was cracking myself up - so I thought I'd share the story with you. Luckily Mila found it soothing and is now sleeping next to me....or either she is faking just so I would shut up. Everytime I look at her I swear I can see one little eye quickly closing, and her little snore does sound like "conk shoo." Regardless, she isn't crying anymore.
Mila was just throwing a tantrum 10 minutes ago; I picked her up and started bouncy walking and talking to her. Then I started singing, it went something like this, (ahem...):
"Hush little baby don't say a word,
Mommas gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don't sing
Mommas gonna buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring don't shine,
Mommas gonna buy you....something that rhymes with shine."
Luckily she quit crying, so I just sang those same lines over and over again while trying quickly to think of something else to sing...you know what came to my mind? You'll never guess, so I'll just tell you the next song I crooned to Mila:
"This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me."
Wondering why in the world that was that was the song that popped into my head, I realized that it was from fifth grade choir! Mila then received a modified version of the entire recital, which was a patriot themed performance, including hits such as "Way Down Yonder in New Orleans," "Oklahoma," "Proud to be an American," "Big D", and many more!
I found this rather amusing, I was cracking myself up - so I thought I'd share the story with you. Luckily Mila found it soothing and is now sleeping next to me....or either she is faking just so I would shut up. Everytime I look at her I swear I can see one little eye quickly closing, and her little snore does sound like "conk shoo." Regardless, she isn't crying anymore.
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