"That Mom"

It is one of those days.  I am "that mom".  You know, the one that when you see them in public you can't but help be thankful you aren't them?  The one that you wonder who thought it was a good idea to give them a child?

The day started out so well.  We went to the library and played and M shared with the other kids, was never grabby, did really well with the baby that was there.  As our hour there came to an end he started to get a bit more hyper, and a bit louder.  So as any good library patron could ask for, we left before he got destructive or disruptive.

Then I had the bright idea that McDonald's would make a good lunch spot.  Well I'll admit that I have not paid much attention to the Playland at the local McD's in many years and so when Matt first lit up at the sight of it, I thought sure, this could be fun.  Until we actually went in the room.  So forgive me for my ignorance that on a Tuesday at noon there would be a room full of school aged children playing in there.  And then M disappeared into the hamster maze.  I saw kids go in after him, and come back out, go in again.  Still no sign of my toddler.  Finally a see him crawl past a portal.  Ahh, he'll be out any minute.  Nope.  He disappears again and this time there is no portal to spy him through.  After what seemed like 5 minutes I hear a little cry, "Mamma, Mamma".  Thank goodness there was a older few girls who sent him down the slide finally.

When we finally sat down to eat there was not a highchair or booster to be found.  If you've never eaten out with a non-restrained toddler, lets just say I don't recommend it.

For those who say toddlers have all this great reasons for the ways they behave.  Like for independence, and discovery.

Nope the truth is their sole purpose is to make us look like idiots.  Thank God they are so cute and funny a this age.

Dear M #1

Dear M,

I often times think of things I wish I'd remember to tell you as you grow up but know I'll never remember when you get older (I mean really, I can't remember where I put my keys most of the time).  So I figured I could keep track of all those bits of wisdom I think you should know.  Now sure, there are hundreds (if not more) sites that already do these sorts of letters, but this will be different because you know me, and it's about you.

So for this first letter I want to share with you my most important rule for life.

Never forget to tell someone you love them every chance you get.

It is that simple.  Or so it seems.  There will be times you will be angry or busy or distracted or maybe just wanting to hurt someone as much as you feel they've hurt you.  And the last thing you will every want to say to them is that you love them.  I know, I've been there.  When I was a girl I was very mad at my dad because he wasn't ever there.  I didn't get to see him for months at a time, he rarely called.  I felt like he had left me behind.  I was angry and hurt and I wanted him to know it.  So when he called me one time I didn't want to talk to him, and when he told me he loved me I ignored him and quickly got off the phone.  He died a few months later and I never got to tell him again that I loved him, even if I was still mad.

I don't want you to ever have to feel that regret.

If there are people you love, let them know.  There are days that I am tired, and frustrated, and my patience is almost gone.  Know that in those moments I still love you more than I can express in a blog post years before you can read it.  I will always love who you are, and I can't wait to watch you grow and learn to love those around you as well.

Let's Get Physical

So Big Daddy and I joined a gym.  I've been 3 times so far, which I'm pretty proud of.  I've learned from previous failed gym memberships that I have not come close to getting in a habit and I have a ways to go before this becomes another great waste of money.

How was it in my younger days I could work out 5-7 days a week and never used the "I'm tired" excuse?  Now I go and just feel lost.  I mean I know how to use most of the machines but I feel like one of those gym virgins who just wanders from place to place hoping to not look like a loser.  I'm constantly trying to find the time when no one is there.  Where did my workout confidence go?

I've thought about getting a session with a personal trainer,  but I had a few sessions with one when I was first pregnant with M.  I think I know what I need to do.  I just need to actually get on the ball and get aggressive.  I hate that I don't recognize my body anymore.  I hate that I'm not proud of how I look anymore.  I hate that I'm falling victim to the cultural expectation that women must be a size 2 to be beautiful.  I hate that to get back to where I was two years ago I'd have to eat nothing but celery and Tic Tacs.

So I've been thinking that someday I'm actually going to have to put this blog out for public scrutiny.  I mean, obviously it's public.  But I may have to actually let people know it's out here.  Otherwise why am I writing it?  Though sometimes I just like getting all the jumbled mess out of my head.

It runs in the family

When I was pretty young, I'd guess before I ever started school, I had a daycare accident.  While running around playing I fell into a marble table.  I had lots of tears, lots of blood, and a butterfly patch later I have a dimple in my left cheek.  Until I tell people it is really a scar, they all think it is a natural dimple (although placed a bit oddly).

Big Daddy had a scar from a childhood collision as well.  Honestly, even after 10 years I forget he has it until he mentions it or points it out.

So it is only appropriate that M ran into a wall today and busted open his head.  They didn't do stitches, just glued him back together (I will hold judgement on this one till we see how it heals, but Superglue-well technically the medical version-isn't exactly what I expected as our treatment method).

It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's SuperMom

I was reading a message board today and came across a thread about balancing home responsibilities and raising a toddler.  The original poster was stressed because she was feeling overwhelmed with trying to keep up with her chores, care for her toddler and work full time.

I can totally relate.  My house is always a mess.  Even when Big Daddy and I swear that this time, we are going to keep it clean.  My laundry is a never ending pile.  Our master bath is a disaster.  My car is a mobile dumpster of soda bottles.  I am a mess.

But when I get home I want to regroup.  I want to spend time with my husband, and my son.  I want to take a few minutes to blog about our life.  I just want to focus on LIFE.

So, how can I fit in the responsibility?  I've tried to do lists, but find them overwhelming.  I've tried making a schedule, but my job doesn't have a predictable schedule so I can't keep to it.  I can't afford to hire someone so what's a girl to do?

The moms I know who have the perfectly clean house don't ever sit down and relax at night, or on the weekends, or ever.  I don't have that drive to clean that makes it worth it to me to give up time with my loved ones.

As I read this I ask, am I just being a spoiled child?  Maybe.  Probably.  But I know I'll never regret that extra snuggle with M, that extra time with Big Daddy.

So I can't claim my cape or superpowers yet.  But maybe someday I'll get it figured out.

Say Goodbye to your little friend...

Sleep was an issue from our early days with M.  He woke up every 2-3 hours to eat till he was about 3 months.  After that we went to waking up about 2 times each night.  That lasted till after he was 6 months.  Then we went to 1 wake up.  That lasted till he was a year.  I quit telling people pretty early on because they always looked at me like I was insane.  I had a 10 month old who didn't sleep through the night???  I was I even still alive???  But it was okay for us, I'd feed him and he'd be back down and I barely woke up myself.  So once he turned a year (and was in between ear infections and teething) we decided it was time to work on sleeping through the night.  I was nervous.  We started before a weekend anticipating a really rough transition.  That first night he woke up twice.  We let him cry for 10 minutes, went in and calmed him, and put him back down and he went back to sleep.  That was it, that one night.  It was so easy, so painless (and totally made us regret not doing it sooner).

So why is getting rid of the paci seem to be so much harder??

I was one of those annoying pregnant women who was so sure of myself and all those things I'd NEVER do as a parent.  You know, like never resort to the swing to get him to sleep, wipe his nose with my bare hands, let him eat processed anything, and let my breastfed baby use a paci.

After 2 days of labor, 2 hours of pushing and a c-section my poor little guy had a pretty goofy head.  I told the nurses to give him a paci to help comfort him as they watched him in the nursery overnight trying to fix his "boggy" head (oh yeah, another thing I wasn't going to do...use the nursery at the hospital).  He hasn't seemed to be too much of an addict.  He only used it at nap and bedtime.  But we were starting to notice that he would seek it out.  He'd want to keep it in longer and longer.  So I decided this was the week.

Day 1
Nap:  An hour late so I was carrying a sleeping baby from the car to crib.  No paci, no crying.  Success.
Bedtime:  Complete meltdown.  I had to dance and sing to calm him down enough to even rock.  About 10 minutes of hard crying.  Heard him up and active for about 20-30 minutes.  Finally asleep, no paci

Day 2
Nap:  Nap on time and very upset to have no paci.  Left him with books and his blanket.  He fussed for a  few minutes then out.
Bedtime:  Very upset for about 5 minutes.  Calmed with rocking, cried for about 5-10 minutes then asleep.

Day 3
Nap:  At daycare.  Big Daddy was supposed to tell them to not use a paci, not sure if they complied.
Bedtime:  Read Goodnight Moon 5 times.  Got no snuggles.  Cried for less than 5 minutes and then asleep.

After reading this I wonder why I'm so annoyed by this process.  He's done pretty well and it's only been 3 days.  But our bedtime routine has always been so easy.  We would cuddle for several minutes, I'd get hugs.  He'd go down awake and we wouldn't hear from him till morning.  I don't like this stressful bedtime with an unhappy baby.

I'm sure we're almost through it.  I hope we're almost through it.  I miss the snuggles with M.  When he's awake he never stops moving, so those moments of calm are precious to me.

Blue Steel

Have you ever wondered if there was more to life, other than being really, really, ridiculously good looking?

Cool and Collected

As I have mentioned before, work has been a bit stressful lately.  Many changes are on the horizon and if it were just the changes I'd be very excited.  They are changes that make this a store that I can really get behind.  The problem is that the higher ups have absolutely no interest in treating their employees with any sensitivity or respect.  They have listed all of our jobs online, and the applicants are coming in to submit applications in our store, and come to open houses to learn about OUR jobs.

My District Manager always tells me that I'm so cool and collected when everything is spinning out of control in the store.  Let me tell you it is really hard to remain that way when I have employees asking what is going on, why is my job listed online?  I don't know, maybe this is a sign that it is time for me to move on.  But where?  I've been there for almost 10 years and I can't really imagine what else to do.  Not that I don't have the training with my master's degree collecting dust on a shelf, but I don't have the experience and my previous attempts to get out of retail have been met with nothing but rejection.  I've lost my confidence.

So today I have to go back to work and put on that smile, and accept those applications, and try to remain cool and collected.

Yum Yum Gimme Some

Grass is so tasty.

Is it really only Wednesday?

Work has been so crazy this week.  We had a big wig come in yesterday (it went horrible).  We have another coming in today.  I always tell people that if I'm going to have to be away from M I better be doing something I like.  And until recently, I did.  But things are changing and the micromanagement from above is getting pretty oppressive.  We aren't able to do our own hiring, have any sort of work life balance, or a feeling of security in our job.  That is a pretty bad feeling when I've been there for almost 10 years.  I try to constantly improve, but will it be enough?  I feel like to meet their expectations I would have to work 80 hours a week (not really something I'm willing to do since I'd only get paid for 40).  This is the hardest part of being a working mom.  I want to do well in my work, but not at the expense of my family. I've got a few days off coming up and I think Big Daddy and I will need to figure out our back up plan.  Always need to stay ahead of the curve you know?

SWING!!!!!!

Joy is easy to find on a beautiful day at the park.

A Great Quote

I just started reading Vanishing Act by Jodi Picoult last night and she had a line in there that was so great I had to write it down.  I think it is a great insight into motherhood.

"When you're pregnant, you can think of nothing but having your own body to yourself again; yet after giving birth you realize that the biggest part of you is now somehow external, subject to all sorts of dangers and disappearance, so you spend the rest of your life trying to figure out how to keep her close enough for comfort.  That's the strange thing about being a mother:  Until you have a baby, you don't even realize how much you were missing one."

A Sucker Born

Our daycare has picture day.  They bring in the professionals, they have the crazy backgrounds that we laugh at in our older years (though I'd have been stoked to see some laser beams).  I guess I should also divulge that I am not a fan of the generic pictures that can be found at your local department store.  I'm just more of a photojournalistic fan.

So back to daycare.  I, of course, scoffed at the thought of a toddler taking school pictures.  I mean, this is the second time in less than a year.  But I picked out a cute outfit (can't have documentation of him looking like a rag-a-muffin), and got him to daycare on time, joked with my coworkers about "picture day".

I now owe $56.  I just can't say no to that sweet face.

A Sh!@@y Morning

Picture it, a quiet morning, the sun barely up.  A young boy wakes and begins to call for his parents.

Big Daddy heads into the nursery to a horrible discovery.  M has something red on his face.  What could have happened at night?  Did he scratch himself?  Allergic reaction?  Attacked by squirrels?  Only upon turning on the light did we figure out the culprit.  A parents worst nightmare.  M had poop on his face.  We're still not sure what happened, and I'm not sure I really want to know.  But it was gross and of course I could smell nothing else for the rest of the morning.  Not really the way to start a day.  And of course for the rest of the morning M was in a foul mood.

I can only hope that this is a one time deal and we may be switching back to one-piece pajamas.

Just a little blog

I guess I'll start this blog off with the requisite introductory post.

So a little about us.

I'm Little Mama. I'm a mom. A retail manager. A wife. A doggy mama. A wanna be chef. A wanna be photographer. I have a big fancy degree that I don't use the way I should, and don't you know that my own mom likes to remind me of that. I would love to have about 3 more kids, but Big Daddy still needs some convincing.

Big Daddy is the love of my life, father of my kid and the sane one in the house...most of the time. He works in IT and plays the

drums on the side. He's much too good looking for me and a total saint for putting up with me for the last 10 years (well almost). We've been married for 4 years and are definitely trying to work out that marriage-parenting balance.

M is the wee one. He is 15 months old and just absolutely perfect.   He's 100% boy and a non-stop toddler (is there another kind?). He loves to run, get into everything, say "More", and torment our dog. He's a great eater and of course the best looking, smartest, sweetest and funniest kid on the planet.

Bella is our very sweet, very deaf (really), very patient dog. She is our rescue dog that Big Daddy and I got not long after we married. She is part Spaniel, though we like to say she is half goat and half pain in the ass. No sock is safe in her presence.

Hopefully you'll enjoy our little blog.