Each night this week I slept a little bit longer than the night before. Monday my precious little Prince decided he didn’t want to sleep until 2 am, so Tuesday I was a zombie. Wednesday I felt a bit more human, and so on and so on. That was my week. It is so immensely boring to discuss sleeping habits of an infant – especially when that infant is hardly an infant anymore and is almost a 1 year old!
There have been many trips to Starbucks this week. Many Verona Blondes and Hazelnut Macchiatos and Grande Non-Fat Cappuccinos were consumed. I am drinking one as I type this. I think all mothers should get a discount to Starbucks for life.
Proposed Starbucks Membership for Mothers:
- If with child, you head to the front of the line – no questions will be asked.
- If without child, you only allow those with children to go ahead of you.
- If you look like a zombie and sound like one too, the baristas should use their psychic powers to get you your drink without having to ask you ‘What’s the name for the cup?’
- If you look like you need some adult conversation, the barista should know to have a sweet and darling conversation about how great you look without all that heavy makeup, no matter if there is a line-up behind you.
- Free treats should always be given with purchase of beverage – preferably non-fat, no-sugar, no-carb treats that taste indulgent and rich.
- Every third drink shall be free.
- The membership will never expire.
As kids get older, planning birthday parties can become tricky. It’s no longer what the parents want (simple colours, modern designs) or what a toddler wants (Thomas the Train or Dora), but a party has everything to do with a little one’s personality. If my Princess was a real Princess I would throw her a pink & black Parisian-style party, complete with an Eiffel Tower as a centrepiece and macarons for dessert! Yet, as spoiled as my little Princess may be, she has a tomboy side to her, and her parties always include boys & girls, so I always try to do a party that caters to both genders and is fun and age-appropriate.
I kept scratching my head for a while – what to do? what to do? And it finally came to me, through her obsession with all things Lego, that we should do a Lego party – and she loved the idea! I found some great Lego-themed invitations all over the internet, Etsy especially, but I chose a Lego invitation from Tiny Prints which was super cute:
There is a bank teller at my local bank, a pretty girl who is in a committed relationship and is somewhere in the vicinity of approaching thirty years of age. She bought a house a year or two ago with her significant other, and she has confided, well, told everyone who goes into the bank, that she & her significant other are considering having a baby. But she hesitates entering the “baby stage” of life. And with good reason. She has seen with her own two eyes the demise of many a woman who walks into her bank, myself especially. She has seen me go from hot, young thing, to avpretty preggo, to a no makeup, messy0-haired, holding-a-baby-with-spit-up-on-clothes lady.
Whenever I go into the bank, I usually either get her as a bank teller, or she walks over to whomever I am with (small town, small bank, small line-ups!), and it’s usually to see the baby. Oh my goodness, the baby! He’s so cute! How old is he now? Those eyes! That smile! He’s going to be a heart breaker! And then after all the hubub about the baby, everyone always turns to the mom (that’s me!) and asks, “And how have you been doing? Are you sleeping yet?”
The answer, which most moms with babies give, is one of the following: “I’m managing.” (which is always true) “Barely sleeping.” (sometimes true) “Living off coffee.” (Okay, this is my reality, so it is all about me and my answers here!)
With each statement the pretty bank teller’s eyes grow bigger and bigger, her head keeps nodding, and she has this look of fear and puzzlement, whereas anyone else in the area who is already a mom knows all this and agrees, c’est la vie! Such is life! I mean, babies are cute and all – they’re babies! They’re adorable. Their soft skin, and baby butts, and cute little feet! The fine hair, the big eyes, the puffy cheeks!
But as parents, we have to endure not only the cute and adorable side of babyhood, but also the gross part of babies. We hold these testaments as our badges of honor, we have suffered and triumphed through many a disgusting, bothersome and annoying part of having a baby. And it is OUR RIGHT as parents to STRIKE FEAR INTO THE HEARTS of these CHILD-LESS FOLK.
I love to regale this bank teller with my current baby horror story – the diaper blow-out in the line-up at Starbucks (and I still waited in that line and allowed the smell to envelope the crowd. mama needed her coffee, tough balls.), the baby vomit in my hands while at brunch, baby poop in the bathtub, the leaky diapers, the NO SLEEP ALLOWED rules (waking up every two, three hours), the baby WON’T take a bottle, and the absolute worst tale I’ve ever told her: that I don’t have time in the morning to do my hair. I think that one made the eyes in her head pop out.
She tells me she’s “very type-A personality, very organized, very scheduled” and even though she knows she wants a baby, she’s just not sure when or how a baby would fit in their/her life, she flips her curly hair over her shoulder. I nod. I was just like you, I tell her, as I walk away in my uniform of black loose t-shirt on top of black lulu leggings, letting the look of horror take over her face while I carry my adorable little baby boy home.
My last post brought up a few questions about what line of work I have acquired! Oh, you guys are so cute – ME, with a REAL job?… I’ve mentioned that I ‘work’ here and there on my blog, but I suppose I really haven’t gotten into a full discussion about it.
My husband J is a contractor, self-made* and managed, he has energy that knows no bounds, impulse matched with smarts, and his company has seen so much success in so little time that people see him as a huge competitor in his industry. I mean, we’ve been here about three years, so he’s really made a name for himself in that time. Of course, running your own company requires a lot of hutzpah. Along with a crazy drive, a mind that never seems to rest, and the capability to
They say that behind every successful man is an even more successful woman.
Ladies & Gents, I am that woman. But who I am really? What is my role in this growing company?
This year for Halloween (I know! I’m late! So sue me!) Princess wanted to go as Prince’s “best friend”, the Woody to his Buzz, if you will. I think it came out absolutely adorable, she of course had to add the sparkly Jessie boots to her ensemble – which led to much confusion on her chosen costume on that rainy night of Trick-or-Treating. She quickly reminded everyone that she was Woody, because “he has the brown hat”. See her hat? It’s brown. Clearly.
5 Months ago you came into our lives with a cute little cry. The doctor spoke about soccer games and made jokes with my husband while I awaited your sound. From the moment you were placed into my arms, I could feel the love growing for you. You were so tiny, with a button nose, the darkest of eyes and fine peach fuzz hair. You breastfed like a pro and you loved to eat. Bringing you home from the hospital, we were terrified, as most parents are, of the ride home, driving a lot slower than usual and not caring if we slowed someone else down – we were bringing YOU home!
And somewhere in those first few days I made it my mission to understand you. I simply had to figure you out, your ‘cues’, as they call them. I wanted to know what each little cry was for, why you did things the way you did – I needed to know the reasons why. But I slowly came to realize that it wasn’t as simple as I thought it would be. My old memories of your sister as a baby were coming back in a fuzzy haze, but she was different than you.
She craved routine, she craved her sleep – she’s still very cranky and grumpy without sleep. She slept two hours in the morning and two more in the afternoon – and she would sleep anywhere we would go and stay asleep. Not you. She would eat every 2.5 hours in the first couple of weeks, I even had to wake her up so we could be on schedule, and she slowly tapered off her feedings to about every 3 hours. Not you. She would take a bottle of expressed breast milk when I needed to go out. Not you.