Eek! The things I worry about #msmommy

320761_1898451302784_2327013_nTo Be Updated:

1. I tend to have a somewhat twisted sense of humor. I think pictures like this are awesome! However, as a promise to Mamaw I will try my best to refrain from embarrassing my child. Even though, the kid in this picture shouldn’t be embarrassed. He’s cool as shit.

2. My inability to teach the Peanut how to drink from a cup. I’m afraid she will be doomed to a life of straws and for this I am sorry.

3. My experience as a baby-sitter has me teaching a toddler how to say, “Fat F@%Ker”. (It was adorable! He would say, “Bat Buckaah.”) I realize now that this was maybe wrong for me to have done.

4. I am not sure if all toddlers break for the door every time it opens but I’m definitely getting a sense that she is trying to escape. I promise myself (and her) that spring is coming and she is gonna LOVE the swings when we hit the park for the first time.

Cousin Adam on swing for the first time

Cousin Adam on swing for the first time

5. I am also starting to think that all toddlers walk around with some sort of head injury. It would explain a lot. The constant stumbling around and bumping into things. Sure they are still new to walking but when, as a society, are we going to take notice of this ever-present concussive population.


Dizzy yet?

5. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. Okay now that I really think about this, I’m starting to wonder; Could this be a side effect to the concussions? Or is it something more like my daughter’s secret desire to be Wonder Woman and if that’s the case. Rock On! I gotta get on to making the costume. DIY Fun!!

6. The little one’s OBSESSION with anything Daniel Tiger and/or Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Yes I admit that I let my daughter watch a little T.V. here and there. I don’t think I could live without Daniel Tiger. How would I get anything done?!

7. The Munchkin is 14 months old now and she refuses to eat anything that isn’t puree. I am in a state of constant worry that she isn’t getting her nutrition to the point where I’m starting to feel bad for taking her off of formula. However, Dr. Baby Whisperer says to keep tyradoing what I’m doing. On a happier note she has begun to slightly munch on a specific cookie made by Gerber (bastards!) and she is touching food (but only if its dry). Whatever Works!


* I no longer worry that my walking will influence hers. Human beings are hard-wired to walk. I believe that this particular skill isn’t learned through observation. I don’t know what I was thinking other than being self-conscious.

The Munchkin Reading

This Book is a Thriller!

* I no longer care when Mamaw (a.k.a. The Best Mom on the Planet) refers to the Munchkin as “her baby”. She is too wonderful not to share.


My quest to feed a picky eater

I have been wanting to make my own baby food for sometime to save money and to further my quest in getting the little one to eat something more than puree baby food. I’m using carrots because this is one of the culprit’s favorites. Here goes nothing:






My carrot mash was ready. My first attempt did not go very well. The carrots were way too lumpy for the Munchkin and she actually started to gag without having had tried any of it. I am gonna have to keep an eye out for her and her ‘acting’.


Yea she hates it.

My Second attempt yielded a much smoother texture. I added more water and blended for a few more seconds but that too was also a no go. At this point however she was over all of it, she even refused her all time favorite – sweet potato. We pressed the reset button with playtime and waited about an hour to try again with dinner. She ate 4 oz. of Gerber puree sweet potatoes.



That’s alright. I will keep trying! She will be interested someday.

The 12 month check up

shrugYesterday was the kind of day that you dread and worry about but then when it finally does happen, it turns out to not be so bad.

The last doctor’s appointment for the Munchkin’s shots was rescheduled due to the fact that on that particular day last month it was a freaky minus 5 degrees outside. Being that I am from THE SOUTH I, myself, am not acclimatized for such ridiculous-ness, therefore I wasn’t going to take my daughter out in that either. The Munchkin’s father, Mr. Sexy Pants, being from Iowa, thinks I’m being cute or silly but no in my mind it was some sort of apocalyptic ice age outside. We needed to stay indoors while we had electricity. These decisions were based in survival.

So the rescheduled doctor’s appointment arrived and Lenna knew what was up the moment we hit the waiting room. Thank God I’ve been blessed with the best mom on the planet, She swooped in and saved the day as all Mamaw’s should. [Ma-maw is southern twang for grandmother]. She was there the whole time to calm and soothe the terrorized naked baby. My heart goes out to all the parents who have to take their children to the doctor’s office. But don’t worry expectant parents, it is not that bad.

Lenna’s doctor was kind and gentle with her. She remained safe and cozy in my lap as the baby doctor kneeled in front of her and offered her stethoscope, all while keeping her voice low and not making eye contact. She was a master at distraction while checking the little one’s spine, tummy and eyes. She left the exam leaving behind a quiet almost asleep child in her mother’s arms and assuring me that my little one will only have to endure three shots today.

babycryFast forward to the crazy eyed nurse who busts open the exam room asking to lay the child on the table and proceeds to give four shots to my little one’s perfect little legs. Both Mommy and Mamaw were constantly reassuring the Munchkin that the pain will only last a little while and we are not trying to kill her. I’m not quite sure she understood.

After the 30 seconds of terror passed; a good hug and her Binky was all she needed and she was back to normal and ready to go.


Super Baby!

My Personal MS Update #msmommy

MEMy friend, Mr. Multiple Sclerosis is still on a steady break. I’m so LUCKY! Take that!

I signed the paperwork Monday, so I should start to receive my Avonex shipments soon. It has been a couple of years and I’m not looking forward to it. Is it gonna make me feel yucky? Yeah most likely. How will it affect me and my taking care of the little one? How long will the side effects last? One day? Two? How is my Ibuprofen inventory?

I will find out soon, I guess. Eeek.

I am happy to be back on some sort of MS treatment though. Who knows when my luck will run out. Better safe than sorry, right? I’m back to the grind.

The Little Boy in the Attic

Alright, the little boy doesn’t live in an attic, he lives in the apartment upstairs from me but it sounded more interesting at first.

The Little Boy in the Upstairs Apartment(meh)

His name is Owen, a precocious and beautiful three-year old that spends his days racing from one end of the apartment to the next. Thankfully his mom is a working mom and little Owen, I’m sure, is off somewhere (not over my head) running till his heart’s content.

On occasion, I may¬† be privy to one of his record-breaking tantrums that he likes to throw from time to time which includes all that is needed to sound like he is dying. I know it’s a tantrum because in the middle of the stomping and wailing, you can hear, “No!” from sweet, tender little Owen repeated over and over.

When I see Owens mom I say nothing. She knows that I know about her sweet Owen. She also knows that I know that I’m in for it in the near future. God help us all.

I may not be able to say a word but I can cringe a bit.


After all, karma is a bitch.

Less of a Woman?

titanicI read a story where Kate Winslet had lied in an interview about the birth of her first-born. She was ashamed of having had an emergency caesarean and that as a woman she should have been able to give birth as nature intended.

I admit that I felt a twinge of regret after having my emergency surgery but it was only slight. I know that my caesarean saved my daughter’s life and mine. She was frank breach and in distress. I will forever be grateful to the team of people who made her breath for the first time and then introduced me to her.

We as women should be supporting each other and not judging each other. I am not less of a mother because I didn’t spend 36 hours of pushing and cursing. There shouldn’t be a divide between Stay-at-home moms vs. Working moms, or Bottle fed vs. Breast fed. We are all just moms doing the best we can.

crying-toddlerBelow is a Love Letter to our c-section moms: