Another year passed, another opportunity to try and erase or at least contain the damage. Hysterically, I started drafting this blog at the end of 2008…so much for the resolution to become an Uber blogger! But hey, this is officially my 50th post–woot!! Anyway, here are my top 5 Resolutions (whose got time or energy for 10)? Continue reading
Okay, I’ll admit it, I was one of those people that bounced back pretty fast after childbirth (sorry). But then I went back to work and something happened, I somehow managed to gain 10 lbs of “flashback” baby weight. Call it a sad rationalization for slowly becoming part of the obesity movement (I mean epidemic), but I’m going to embrace those 10lbs dammit and here’s why…
- “I rather be fat than bitchy,” notes my sage friend Crystal. Yup, me too. Both of us recognize that the soothing, emotion-numbing impact of a glass of wine (or two or three) when all you want to do is scream, “would you stop singing that f*%$#@$ song over and over again.” Wine and accompanying snacks might be bad for the waistline but, in the long run good for your own (and kids’) emotional well-being. True yoga may have the same effect, but you can’t really do yoga while chatting with your friend over the phone. And my downward dog always seems to turn into a paddywhack machine for a rambunctious toddler.
- I’ll stay warmer in the winter. Living in Canada, the extra padding comes in handy.
- If 40 is the new 30, so it goes that a size 8 is the new 6!
- It beats Botox injections. Gaining 10 lbs means less need for fillers and cosmetic procedures. If I have to choose between looking thinner or looking younger, I’ll go with that youthful glow only a muffin top can bring.
- Great excuse for a new wardrobe! I’ve started to realize that my “skinny clothes” might have to go to Syrian refugees–all for a good cause of course!
So it’s Remembrance Day in Canada (and my husband’s birthday). But since the closest I’ve been to combat is a relative that dropped out of Royal Military College, I’m turning this into a memorial about “the time before.” As in “the time before I had kids.” Don’t get me wrong, I love
my kids and would never, ever wish to “undo” this. But there are certain elements of my life I do look back on fondly…sigh. I spent 6 days this summer entirely kid-free (the first time in 8 years), and it was truly a revelation…Here’s my top 5 list: Continue reading
I’ve always considered myself a pretty relaxed mom in that I’ve let my boys explore the world fairly uninhibited (only leashed them for about 2 weeks during the height of the “bolting for the street phase.”). But as my third boy approaches the “into everything in sight” stage, I’ve noticed I’m starting to really let my standards slide–how else is he going to learn??? You’re probably on your third boy if:
- Cords are a valid distraction so long as they’re unplugged from the wall (they can still be plugged into the computer though–a small shock could possibly have a Pavlovian effect).
- You’re fine with your 6-year-old spinning the baby around provided said baby is still giggling (even though you’re well aware that it could all end in tears and a visit to the hospital).
- You’ve “lost” your baby in the backyard only to discover him stuck, lying on his back in a bush like an overturned turtle (true story).
- You’ve started telling people that the semi-permanent bruise on your baby’s forehead is, in fact, a birthmark, despite the fact that it seems to move from one side of his head to another.
- Day four of his life was spent in the emergency room because you literally dropped him on his head (to be fair, it hurt me way more than him).
- Crumbs on the floor are a legitimate form of nutrition.
- Dirt and rocks also count as food.
- 2 days in the same sleeper is the norm…(I’m an environmentalist trying to conserve water!)
- You’re grateful that the baby inherited his dad’s dark skin because you frequently forget to apply sunscreen.
- You’re relieved you forget to apply sunscreen because, although you bought the stuff, the Vitamin D remains unopened.
5) You’re relieved to discover that Retin A is okay while breastfeeding.
4) You talk about your baby’s puke, the insanity that is your life and how you want to strangle your husband via a phone conversation vs. texting.
3) You hope other people chalk up your fatigued look to the baby and not to age!
2) Regardless of how many times you throw the baby over your head your triceps are still saggy.
1) The baby pinches your neck “waddle” while feeding (and you actually know what a waddle is because you were a huge fan of Ally McBeal in the 90s!).
So did the ultrasound last week. A few things have changed in the last 3 and a half years. Namely, ultrasound techs are afraid to disclose ANY info, including the sex of the baby. After 30 minutes of measures and picture taking she let my husband come in to the room. “I can’t tell you the sex of the baby, but I can leave the picture on the screen so you can figure it out.”
Sigh. Right then and there I knew it was another boy (we already have two). Mother of THREE boys? And there it was, sticking out like a pencil tip–a penis! Can’t say I was surprised, but my husband, convinced it was a girl was in utter shock.
My God, it’s hard to believe it has been so long since I’ve posted. Having a second baby really threw me for a long, unexpected, exhausting loop! As if there weren’t enough excuses, I thought coming up with more might be helpful not just for me, but for new mom’s everywhere, looking for new ways to rationalize a lax attitude, so here goes. (forgive me, I’m a little rusty).
1) Between diapers and potty training there’s just literally too much shit to deal with in a day.
2) My 2 1/2 year old reconfigured the laptop and I couldn’t figure out how to unlock his parental controls.
3) I was too busy every day preparing every single recipe from the “Wok with Yan” cookbook and blogging about it.
4) I was too bummed by the fact that that Julia chick stole my idea, and got a movie deal out of it just because “Julie & Julia” is catchier than “Pam and Yan.”
5) I didn’t want to steal Brad and Angelina’s thunder re. the twins.
6) I was too busy reading the one (yes, count ’em) ONE book that I’ve been reading for the last YEAR. (It’s called the Birth House, and although a great book, am not able to read more than 2 pages without falling asleep).
7) Keeping up my 6-pack abs takes several hours at the gym every day and I’m too exhausted when I get home.
8) I was just too well-rested and didn’t want to ruin my uniterrupted sleep with a late-night blog.
9) Entering my babies in weekend pagents, sewing cowboy costumes for them and winning “Grand Supremes” takes up a lot of time!
10) My doctor cut me off riddlan.
Okay, so my blog has kind of fallen off the radar. Partly because I’ve been working at a new gig, partly because I’m preggars again and haven’t had the energy. Anyway being 3 weeks away from popping out another baby, I figured I’d make another last-ditch effort to get back in the blogosphere before I go back into the trenches.
Why Being Knocked Up Again Sucks:
1) Everything hangs just a little lower the second time around.
2)You’re two-year-old keeps requesting that you “open this” while pulling up your shirt in public to try and expose your belly.
3) The first pregnancy was all about YOU. The second is about changing green and purple poo while trying not to hurl, doing 5 loads of laundry daily and dragging your expanded belly and ass around a playground as you consider who will pick you up off the ground when you pass out.
4) If you thought one child meant no action…
5) As the due date looms, you start having flashbacks to your first labour.
6) You literally walk around “barefoot and pregnant” because you can’t bend over to put on your shoes.
7) Your breasts have finally become your own and now you realize someone is going to take them away again.
8) You’ve accepted that spittle will continue to be a fashion accessory for the next two years.
9) Having had a “dream baby” the first time around, you fully expect to give birth to a colicky “spawn of Satan” for round two.
10) You realize that your “cool” music collection will be taken over by the likes of the Doodlebops, Raffi, and The Backyardigans.
Okay, so I must admit. I actually used to kinda like Dr. Phil. But that slowly started to chip away when he a) brought anti-Iraq war activists on (at the start of the war) and told them they were unpatriotic and b) apparently threatened to walk away from a sold out live presentation because (or so the story goes), he was not provided with a hair dryer (how ironic is this) as stipulated in his contract. The straw that broke the camel’s back was the “I slept with your sister” episode. Anyway, Jerry Springer is starting to look a whole lot better these days for a bunch of reasons…
Dr. Phil berates his trashy guests for their horrible deeds–e.g. sleeping with their wife’s sister or stuffing a 200 pound baby with Ho Hos…Springer celebrates the shortcomings of his guests, giving a bleeped out voice to the socially and economically disenfranchised inbred citizens of the world.
Dr. Phil brazenly hounds Britney Spears to publicly humiliate her into sanity…Springer offers anonymous and infamous trailer trash everywhere the opportunity to publicly demonstrate their insanity.
Any chance he gets, Dr. Phil is shamelessly promoting a crap book by his obnoxious son or annoyingly helium-filled wife who are both authorities on nothing…while…Springer’s only request of his charming, hearing-impaired daughter is that they waltz together on “Dancing with the Stars.”
Dr. Phil is a media slut in a psychiatrist’s clothes…Springer is a circus-freak shrink, disguised as a self-proclaimed media whore.
Dr. Phil thinks he’s God…Springer recognizes that even God has a sense of humour.
Dr. Phil often hosts ridiculous shows about makeovers and helping people ‘transform’ their look…Jerry accepts his lovely guests just the way they are.
Dr. Phil’s annoying son Jay has been known to put on a ‘fat suit’ to show how America’s obese underbelly is treated…Springer guests often expose just how big that underbelly (amongst other private parts) really is.
Dr. Phil loves the sound of his own voice…Jerry loves the sound of continuous bleeping when his guests get riled up….
Dr. Phil is notorious for sucking up to George and Laura Bush on his broadcasts…Rather than sucking up to politicians, Jerry is one: he was named Ohio Democrat of the year in 2004 and has been mayor of Cincinnati not once, but twice!
The Dr. Phil show just plain sucks…So does the Jerry Springer show, but Jerry celebrates it!
Well I know it’s a little late for resolutions, but I swear, I’ve been thinking about writing them since December 26th! Anyway, I’ll skip the lame excuses and get down to business. My resolutions for 2008:
I will watch less TV (truth be told: I’m currently typing this while watching American Idol and think I may have just witnessed the next Courtney Love).
I will NOT compare Noa’s good looks and charm with other toddlers (though clearly he is the cutest, smartest and funniest baby in the universe).
I will attempt to take showers that last longer than three minutes.
I vow to make a weekly contribution to my blog even if Noa is teething and I’m living on 2 hours of sleep a night.
I will write a children’s novel about Chloe–my insanely jealous cat with bladder control issues–to toilet train children everywhere.
I promise to stop breastfeeding Noa before his 26th birthday (and this coming from the woman who thought she wouldn’t last six months).
I will not blast my husband or be bitchy when he attempts to be ‘helpful’ (why the f%$k would anyone one think an unneeded diaper change at 2am would make things better–are your f8$^&#ng kidding me????)
I will NOT use cosmetic tools such as botox despite the fact that the first year of motherhood has added 10 years (note: excluding microdermabrasion and eye lifts).
I will be on time for Noa’s play dates and Gymboree classes no matter how much he poops before he gets there.
I will replace cursing in front of Noa–especially when some goddamn bastard motherf*^%er cuts me off while driving–with a much more dignified and silent middle finger.
Was watching ‘Little Mosque on the Prarie’ this evening after putting the baby down and spotted a couple of actors I worked with on a show. You see before I became a blogger extraordinaire and a communications ‘guru’ (I’m being ironic here folks), I studied and, upon graduation, temporarily worked in theatre (as an actor, director and stage manager). Needless to say, I got really tired of the poor life and being a brutal waitress, decided to get out.
But that little TV show got me thinking about the four years of training/studying I did and how I still use these skills in relation to motherhood:
- All those strange breathing/finding your inner voice exercises I did in acting class really came in handy during labour for those low primal grunts.
- I’m able to ‘feign’ excitement when Noa puts the puzzle piece in the box for the hundreth despite the fact that I’m actually sleeping with my eyes open.
- I do a mean puppet show.
- Endless improvisation exercises have allowed me to develop new lyrics to lullabyes including extensive revisions to ‘Hush little baby…’ Examples: “and if that diamond ring don’t shine, Papa’s gonna buy you a bottle of wine. And if that bottle of wine is sour, Mama’s gonna take you to happy hour. ”
- Animal impersonations are my middle name.
- I’m prepared to make a complete ass of myself for a couple of laughs from my ‘audience’ of one.
- The pay is crap.
- Just like with the Actor’s Equity Union, once you’ve joined the motherhood gang, like it or not, you’re in it for life.
- Not showering for several days is truly a form of artistic expression.
- Motherhood is a lot like being a stage manager: you’re there to make sure everyone’s needs are catered to, the set dishes are washed, floor mopped and that everything runs on schedule and NOBODY thanks you.
Heard about the whole facebook and breastfeeding kafuffle http://www.thestar.com/article/255628and and have got to say–bravo to the uptight right! You’ve now made eating a sin! In the spirit of this wise and well-thought-out decision, I believe pictures of the following should also be banned:
1) All 50-something, overweight hairy European men wearing Speedo racers–I mean seriously, doesn’t this make every woman want to slather themselves in anti-bacterial gel?
2) Shots of Toronto’s CN Tower–it is after all, the world’s largest phallic symbol.
3) A woman sipping a $5 coffee from that famous American chain–otherwise known as the “mother’s milk” of a generation.
4) Ultimate fighting on YouTube: I know my husband’s addicted and the homo-eroticism of all those sweaty men rolling around is simply blasphemous.
5) Donuts coated in icing sugar–as children exposed to this kind of lurid food may, later in life develop a cocaine addiction.
6) Milk in general: I mean really, doesn’t it just take you back to that obscene breast of mama?
7) Hot, cheap designer shoes on eBay–which may cause women to orgasmically cry out, “oh yeah baby!”
8) Super baggy rap star pants belted low to reveal boxers–okay, I really believe these should be banned. Why? The part I find offensive is that this rapper “trend” has lasted at least 15 years. Boys, it’s time to move on to another ridiculous look please. Perhaps, walking around with one shoe or pairing these pants with a Speedo…
9) All retractable, domed stadiums–naturally, this conjures up images of the cervix dilating during that horrible, pornographic process known as childbirth.
10) Any photos or info regarding Britney Spears (okay, she’s one mama I actually hope is NOT still breastfeeding. Think of what that milk must contain…)
Okay, I’ve got to admit it: saying another baby is cute is like a Nike ad–you just do it. You HAVE to say the obligatory “what a cutie” and “how many months?” even if you think the baby looks like a Cabbage Patch Kid on acid. Truth be told, most of us are thinking “cute baby, but not as cute as my baby.” It’s nature’s way of making sure you don’t pitch the kid out the window when he has a complete and utter meltdown at 3am.
9 Other Lies:
2) “I don’t know why he’s crying when he’s usually so good.”
Read: the only time the baby shuts up is when he’s chomping down on a boob or in the bath.
3) “I’ll just have half a glass of wine since I’m breastfeeding”
Truth: okay, so maybe you end up drinking 8 half glasses–so what?
4) Yeah, my husband took the baby last night to give me a break.
Reality: I screeched at my man to “take the damn baby now or else I’m jumping out the bedroom window!”
5) I think the little guy is teething
Read: the neighbours called the police because they thought we were operating a poultry slaughterhouse out of our apartment.
6) Wow, he’s got a really unique cry.
Read: thank God my baby doesn’t sound like a chicken being slaughtered.
7) You know the pediatric society now recommends breastfeeding until at least 2 years old ?
Truth: you know if you stop breastfeeding, those french fries and chocolate cake you scarfed down at breakfast will go straight to your hips.
8) I religiously give my baby Vitamin D.
Fact: your baby is 10 months old and is still on the first 5ml bottle of the stuff.
9) “She just flung herself off of the bed!”
Truth: You were “resting your eyes” while your little gymnast decided to try out pillow vaulting as a new hobby.
10) “Our sex life has never been better.”
No explanation required.
- Having to explain that you didn’t spill a drink on your nipples.
- Being trashed on three drinks.
- Pumping in one of those scuzy bar bathrooms while listening to two tarted up chicks argue over who’s more wasted.
- Having to explain to the 22-year-old college kid why you can’t hit the all-night pizza-joint then make out.
- Staring at the guy at the bar while internally thinking “my son is going to be way cuter than that!”
Realizing your muffin-top jiggles while you dance.
- Answering the “what do you do?” chat up line with “I wipe up poop, pee, spittle and do an occaisional load of laundry.”
- Being completely trashed on three drinks.
- Trying to entertain a baby at 6am when you’re still buzzed from aforementioned three drinks.
- Having to explain to the next table that, no it’s not their “beer goggles,” your breasts really did double in size over the course of the evening.
- Your baby’s first foods are Twinkies and soda pop.
- Your boob alcohol level is beyond 0.5 % (hey man, beer helps you make more milk!).
- You believe that the idea of second hand smoke being harmful is just a conspiracy theory made up by those damn anti-smoking Nazis.
- You put your 6-month-old daughter in a “My mom’s a M.I.L.F.” onesie.
- You’ve appeared on Maury with your 150 lb baby.
- The baby refers to the cow on the Baby Einstein video as “Mama.”
- You own a copy of “Gangsta Rap Lullabies.”
- There are cigarette burns on your Baby Bjorn.
- You think ketchup is actually a baby food condiment.
- You often try to settle arguments by flashing your boobs, especially when appearing as a guest on Jerry Springer.