Let’s Have Coffee

Hi there, whoever you are. This post is inspired by this girl, and her “virtual coffee date” posts. I love them. They are fun to read, and make you feel cozy; kind of like a favorite book (is that weird?). So, without further ado, go pour yourself a cup of coffee (or tea, if that’s your deal) and sit with me. Got your coffee (or tea, wine, energy drink, water, whatever)? Good. I have a few things I need to tell you, like;

I actually took a picture for this post. Of my coffee in front of the computer. Creative, yes? But then I tried to upload it onto my husband’s computer (that we all use), and I couldn’t. I searched for the cord. After trying two, and of course the right one was the one I used last, I realized that something wasn’t working. Probably my lack of a technology brain. So, sorry, no picture of my coffee. Also, I couldn’t get the Playstation remote to charge on Monday, which meant I couldn’t watch Downton Abbey. So, yeah. Win one for technology.

I want you to know that some days I feel like I have this Motherhood Shit firgured the fuck out. And some days? Holy geez, some days I get all up in my head, and by the end of the day I’m all; “OH MY GEEZ, WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? WHY DID THEY LET ME OUT OF THE HOSPITAL WITH THIS BABY? SOMEONE WAS SERIOUSLY NOT PAYING ATTENTION TEN MONTHS AGO! I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT I’M DOING.” Today is one of those days. Yesterday I had my shit together. Today; nope, not at all. What am I so worried about? Naptime; when do we switch to one nap a day? And can we avoid that? I rather enjoy nap time these days. Another worry? Weaning. We’ve moved down to three nursing sessions a day, but is that okay? And is she getting enough food? It was so easy when all she needed was the boob. And when I knew that half her food wasn’t ending up in the dog’s mouth. Any advice?

You should know that, the reason for the naptime questioning is that yesterday she napped for almost three hours during her morning nap. When I put her down for an afternoon nap SHE WAS NOT FREAKING AMUSED. She did not sleep. Eventually, I took her out of her crib, got in our bed, and after some fighting it, she took a thirty minute snooze on me. It was so sweet because she never sleeps with me anymore. So. Freaking. Sweet. Plus; I got a nap too- EVEN SWEETER.

Oh, right, that’s why we never nap together. And why we don’t co-sleep.

The third thing we need to talk about? The fact that I am so confused about Rose’s first birthday. I am actually having a mild anxiety attack about it at the moment. Living in this Pinterest world as we do, I see so much crazy stuff that mothers do for their children’s first (and second, third, fourth, etc.) birthdays. I totally make fun of it. Like, all the time. My sister-in-law and I laugh about it on a daily basis (practically). And yet… I really, really, really want her to have a picture perfect first birthday. Because doesn’t she deserve it? And don’t I? And, I mean my mom always had adorable birthday parties for us… don’t I owe it to her to make a perfect party for her only grandchild? The only problem (besides the fact that every free moment from now until March 2 will be spent on this party) is that I am notoriously non-crafty. In my family, we all have our thing that is a source of ridicule. Mine is all the craft projects that I started, only to give up in complete frustration partway through (yes, family, I know, I remember the cross-stitch candle incident). Or I would get bored with said project, and abandon it for a much more enticing endeavor, usually reading a book. So, my lack of craftiness will be a problem. I mean, should I even bother?


Sorry. I couldn’t stop at just one. I have issues.

One more thing. And this is really, really a  serious issue. I can’t wash our sheets because the dog is always on/ in our bed. And she looks so comfortable, and I just can’t move her. I’m not that mean dog owner. No, I’m the dog owner that lets the dog have the run of the house. Dog Whisperer, Shmog Whisperer. Whatever. That wasn’t even funny.

Yep. We let this happen. Every. Single. Night. This is the real reason we can’t co-sleep.


My Weekend

*Update: Just to prove that I have “Monday brain” I forgot to title this post. Doh. I have now given it the most creative title I could muster. You’re most welcome. 

Good morning. I hope you all had a great weekend. I know I did. It was lazy, and we didn’t do much, so basically, it was perfect. And now. Now it is Monday. And here is how I feel about that:

Also, this:

So, what did we do this weekend? Well, if you’re a college student, or you know, anyone that doesn’t have kids, I suggest you stop reading, because you will be bored out of your skull. If you’re a Mommy or someone like me (even before I had a baby and husband), then read on:

Friday: I got a text from the husband asking if I wanted to go to Costco after he got home from work. You have to understand that going to Costco, for us, is the equivalent of  going bar hopping (is that even a thing?) on a Friday night. We freaking love Costco. It is so much fun. You never know what you’re going to find. Pretty soon I am sure that we will all be outfitted from head to toe in clothes bought at Costco, eating hundred packs of string cheese, while putting away our economy size toilet paper. Also, awesome about Costco? THE SAMPLES. But you already knew that. The best thing ever is that our Costco has gelato at the food bar. I had never seen this before at any other Costco, so my dance that I did the first time I saw this was completely justified. Anyway… we went to Costco, but only bought 36 eggs (which will be gone by this Friday; we’ve already eaten 18), spinach, potatoes, avocados, and I think that’s it? But I’m not really sure. No impulse buys. Two weeks ago we had a major impulse buy of my new camera (yes, honey, it is mine… right?), so we were trying to keep the impulse buys to a minimum. After Costco we went to Vietnamese food to get pho, because in our family pho is the cure for all. Seriously, for everything. And, since Rose was sick we had to go, right? Right.

We’re like this, except with pho.

So, yeah. That was our Friday. It was awesome.

Saturday: Rose and I actually didn’t go anywhere on Saturday. The husband went to Wal Mart and Costco, after making us breakfast. He unclogged our upstairs bath (seriously, that was probably the highlight of my weekend- that thing was driving me cray cray). Rose and I stayed home and watched football (go niners!). Oh, oh, oh!! I forgot to mention one of the most exciting things about the weekend; we had Showtime for free (I just googled if there is a ‘w’ in the channel’s name…), which meant that we watched Weeds, Californication, and Dexter all night. Twas awesome.

Sunday: Rose slept past seven (yesssss!), and I woke up all confused. I was convinced it was Monday. Once I realized it was still the weekend I was so excited I started doing shots. Okay, not really; it was coffee (wouldn’t it be funny if I did, though?). We let the husband sleep in. Rose ate cheerios out of a container while I drank a whole pot of coffee. By the time the husband woke up I was in full on song and dance mode, which, I am sure is what he loves to wake up to. He made us breakfast again (and was even considerate enough to make enough potatoes for breakfast today). I really think Sunday was my favorite day this week. We went to Trader Joe’s (my love, in store form) and Wal Mart (not so much love, but it is useful, I guess). We came home, ate lunch, and Rose went down for a nap. Tim went out to play disc golf, and I went down for a nap as well. Rose napped FOREVER, which meant that I did too. It was AWESOME. We hung out, watched football (no Golden Globes over here… although I may have tried to sneak some in while Tim was doing his fantasy NHL draft), gave Rose dinner, played a bit, and put Rose down to bed. Just in time for my favorite show; Girls. I may have been a little bit abusive to my husband at this point, because in addition to making him watch Girls with me, I told him if he talked that I would punch him in the face. He said one word and I smacked him, just to show I wasn’t kidding. I feel really bad about that. Anyway… We ended the night with the newest episode of Californication, and I had a tortilla with avocado and string cheese for dinner.

And just because it kind of fits with my night (but not really…)

And another Girls reference. Because you can never have too many and Girls was probably the highlight of my whole week. So pathetic.

So… that was our weekend. Now that I’ve written it out, I kinda feel bad for making you read through all of this. Not bad enough that I won’t post it, but bad enough that I feel like I should apologize. The weekend was awesome. The six loads of laundry that are waiting to be folded are not. Sigh. Oh, well, at least I can watch last night’s Downton Abbey (nobody ruin it for me- including those of you that are lucky enough to live in a country that has already aired this season).

I Should Have Seen it Coming

A veteran mom would have known. She would have caught it. She would have pulled out the humidifier, made soup, and begun pushing fluids. Alas, I am not a veteran mom, which is why my first sign that something was amiss came last night at 11:00. I heard a rustle over the monitor, and thought to myself; ‘oh crap, here we go again- another night without sleep.’ Then, there it was; the cough of doom. Just one. One little cute cough at eleven PM, and I knew. It had gotten us. We were infected. Throughout the night I heard many, many more coughs, but they didn’t seem to interrupt her sleep too much. Oh, but they interrupted mine. Not in the ‘holy geez this is annoying way,’ but in the really fun anxiety ridden way that I am prone to. Because we don’t do flu shots in this family. I don’t believe in them, and despite the pediatrician’s best effort to sneak one in (seriously, she tried) none of us have had one. But them, last night, suddenly, my brain was all ‘YOU MORON. WHO DOESN’T BELIEVE IN FLU SHOTS? WHHHHHYYY? WE SHOULD HAVE ALL GOTTEN FLU SHOTS. BUT NOW, BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR DARN BELIEFS WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE BY MORNING.’ My brain kept screaming those sort of beautiful thoughts at me all night. A few little mucousy coughs, and I am questioning my beliefs. I mean, really, this is what I knew would happen if we didn’t get flu shots. If you don’t get flu shots, then you get sick. Duh. But suddenly, we were in Contagion or something, and this wasn’t just some little cold or flu; it was death knocking at my door. By morning, I was convinced that Rose had succumbed to this awful illness (she hadn’t coughed in, oh, thirty minutes), that my husband laying next to me was by now a corpse, and I could feel my throat closing in. The only way I knew the dog was a live was I could feel her breathing on me underneath the blanket (oh, your dog doesn’t sleep under the blankets in your bed? Makes for a great night sleep.), plus, she kept kicking me in the face and stomach.

But then, the weirdest thing happened. Morning came. And, like, Rose was babbling away in her crib (among the coughs) and was ALIVE. And I was all like:


And then, I got her from the crib, brought her into our bed, nursed her, and let her crawl on her daddy (who, by the way, I still assumed was a corpse, since he had yet to move- sleeps like the dead, that one), and guess what? HE WAS ALIVE TOO. I was alive. The dog was alive (but we all knew that- she’s got more lives than a freaking cat). So, I took my poor, sick daughter downstairs, ready for a day of cuddling, and an excuse to watch TV all day. But, little stinker, she’s really not all that sick (yet? I don’t know- can a veteran mom tell me if this is normal? Is it about to get worse?) She was happy to play while I drank my coffee. She proceeded to climb all over every piece of furniture in the living room, while I alternated between terror at her dangerous moves and glee that perhaps she won’t be a nervous Nelly like her mom (I love this stage, by the way, it seems that we are always a wrong move away from the ER). Then, I whipped up some smoothies (full of spinach and blueberries, because all the crazy hippie moms know that’s what keeps you healthy. Oh, and garlic. A lot of garlic), and burnt some eggs for my husband as well. Wait. Yes, you better go back and read that again, because along with some sound medical advice, I let you know that I cannot cook, because; I BURNT EGGS. You know, the food that is supposed to be foolproof? Burnt them. Then, worse still; I SERVED THEM TO MY HUSBAND. I really am a rare gem.

Me in a nutshell. Except (this is embarrassing) sometimes I like to clean.

So, yeah, that happened. And we’re alive. And Rose is like; “okay mom, enough we the liquid food already. Give me some cheese and peas, so my poop can stink and rhyme.” Sorry, little girl. Lunch is leftover tortilla soup. It does have black beans in it, though, so your poop will probably still stink, and, this is the best part; it is not burnt. YESSSSSSS. I WIN.

In addition to burning eggs, going upstairs 300 times only to forget what I needed, and generally losing my mind, here’s how I managed to strike out yesterday”

Strike one: put a load of laundry in the washer, complete with detergent. FORGOT TO TURN THE DAMN THING ON.

Strike two: made cookies. Put dough on cookie sheet. FORGOT TO PUT THE DAMN THINGS IN THE OVEN.

Strike three: decided after the last two strikes that coffee would help me get my act together. Pour a cup. Heat it in the microwave.  FORGOT I PUT IT IN THERE UNTIL AN HOUR LATER WHEN I DECIDED I WANTED ANOTHER CUP OF COFFEE. Oh, but then I really fail; I POURED ANOTHER CUP, ONLY TO OPEN THE MICROWAVE AND FIND MY CUP FROM THE HOUR BEFORE.

Annnnnddd she’s outta here; STRUCK. HER. OUT. Touche, mom brain, touche. Now I will go sit on the bench couch, and watch last night’s Grey’s Anatomy  while praying that Rose’s disease allows her to sleep for the whole thing. Crap. I think she’s up. In addition to being a gem of a wife, I am also one great mother. Not, but seriously, I love her, and sometimes, when her naps are too long, I just wish she would wake up and play. Right now, though, I just really, really want to watch Grey’s.