Take the ice, mama

Today we went on a family outing to Costco. We needed eggs and lunch meat for Matt to take for work. We got in and out of there spending less than we’ve ever spent and had sample lunch from all of the sample people. Yum. We shared a chicken stick and frozen yogurt, or what I like to call “poor parents dining out”, and sat at the bright red picnic tables among the other parents of small children. It was an absolute zoo. We’ve traded our leisurely Saturday afternoons dangling off patios drinking cold beer for a chicken stick and froyo among other weary parents just like us. *sigh*
We chit chatted back and forth and took turns passing Quinn to each other to keep her from having one of her huge public meltdowns. She seems to enjoy chaos and looking around at people so all was good on our little corner of the picnic table.

When we were almost done with our super fancy meal out food, I heard a loud “crack” right behind us. Then I heard an audible gasp. The little boy that had been using the picnic table as his own personal jungle gym had fallen backwards and smacked the back of his head on the concrete floor. His mother scooped him up just as quickly as he had fallen. He was at that point in a major fall where kids appear to be crying but no sound comes out for what seems like an eternity. Everyone scrambled to help and some nice man was right there with ice very quickly.

She was holding her now screaming child when he got to them with the ice. She said “No thanks”.

I was confused. The child obviously needs ice on his bumped noggin. He was clearly in pain. It couldn’t have hurt to just take the ice that the man brought her. I looked at Matt and told him I didn’t understand why she didn’t just politely take the ice. I started to get a little irritated by it. Her kid had been wreaking havoc on the picnic area the entire time we were there. She had to know it was coming. So why, if she basically sat there and did nothing while her child hurt himself, didn’t she just take the damn ice?

Matt said “Maybe she’s embarrassed”.

That hadn’t even crossed my mind. Maybe she was embarrassed.

But she shouldn’t have been.

I can already tell my kid is going to be a royal pain in the ass on a good day. She’s high maintenance and she’s only been on this earth >4 months. She has meltdowns almost everywhere we go and I feel the stares on me. I feel like people think I don’t feed her, change her when she’s wet/dirty, or meet her general needs, even though I try my best to and she sure doesn’t go hungry.

Look at this face

You wouldn’t think she’s much trouble.

You’d be wrong.

We love her anyway.

Since becoming a mother, I’ve had to accept help. I must have “new” stamped on my forehead, and I’ve had many people offer to hold doors open for me while I struggle with the awkward stroller. At first, I’d say “I got it!” with a smile. Now, I usually give an exhausted “Thank you”.

I’ve found that people generally trip over themselves to help, which says a lot about the world we live in. People see you struggling and help. We should be open to letting them.

Next time mama, take the ice. It may be my kid with the banged up head the next go-round. We’re all down in the trenches together with this parenting thing. Nice to know we have people willing to lend that third hand we sometimes so desperately need.

Clothes Mountain

This morning I noticed that our laundry pile is getting pretty high. It’s usually in a basket, but both baskets are housing clean folded clothes.

Our apartment could use a vacuum. I could dust, too.
One may argue that as a stay at home mom, this just shouldn’t be. My tiny apartment should be immaculate. I should have a spotless kitchen and my closet should be organized.

What else can I possibly have to do?

I’m here to tell you I don’t care. I don’t care about clothes mountain. It will get washed eventually when both full baskets are void of underwear or socks. By the time we’re finished digging through the clean clothes any resemblance of folding will be gone.

I’ve spent this sweet week of summer with tummy time, watching my sweet girl explore new things from a different angle

We’ve gone on daily walks. Girl likes to look at everything and says “oooh!” a lot as we are strolling around.
We’ve had mommy and me lunches in the mall. She sits on my lap and grins that gummy grin as the people walk by. She makes everyone smile. But when the phone shows her picture while I’m snapping a baby selfie, she looks like this.

She’s starting to watch every bite travel from my plate to my mouth. Feeding her real food is coming up in a few months.

When Matt is off, we spend time outdoors with her. She seems to love it. She’s the most calm outside.

I guess because there are so many things to see and so many new sounds.
We have laughed this week when she broke out of her swaddle and we woke up to find this

Nothing can keep our baby from that thumb lately. Not even industrial strength Velcro.
We’ve cuddled in bed and counted her little fat rolls, because they won’t always be there.

And I’ve even slipped away while Quinn and Daddy had a nap for some much needed pool time

Drinking icy cold beer from the mug I crunched ice chips out of after I had Quinn.

Hey mama’s need breaks, too!

I’m writing all of this because of the pressure that stay at home moms (and even just stay at home wives) feel to be perfect and have everything in tip top shape at all times.

It’s crap.

Clothes mountain isn’t an indication that I’m not doing my job.

It means I AM.

Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day to the best daddy ever

Quinn is lucky to have Matt as her daddy. The special bond they already have is evident every time they look at each other. I can’t wait to watch her grow up with such a strong, selfless, caring daddy. He truly is a treasure in our lives!

Love Loud

Nothing better than a sleeping baby. I love to see her sleeping so peacefully.

I used to come home from work and relish the silence of my little apartment. After a long, loud day at work with a rambunctious 3 year old, quiet sounded real good. In the early days of motherhood I realized my apartment may never be quiet again.

I hate repetitive noise. If someone is tapping on something it makes me crazy. Crying babies make me twitch a little. Even my own.

I recently followed the story of friends of mine from high school that had a baby born with a heart defect. She was born a week or so after Quinn and they had no prior knowledge of the defect. This baffles me, because I had a total of 6 ultrasounds (7 maybe? lots) over the course of my pregnancy. Not by choice, but because our little troublemaker threw up red flags at almost every visit. Her heart was checked out thoroughly. I still remember that seeing those 4 individual chambers working so fast. I realize this isn’t the norm but it seems like someone missed something big. Anyway, the sweet baby struggled for 2 months in Children’s Hospital in Birmingham and passed away. My heart broke for them. They would never hear her cry again.

I’ve learned to embrace the cries. They don’t drive me crazy like they did at first. They let me know she’s well.
And sometimes she cries at me because I make her wear a silly hat.

Then sometimes she cries at me because she doesn’t want to be put down while I tend to a boiling pot on the stove or something in the oven.

But whatever the reason, that loud sound that she can easily turn on and off lets me know she is healthy. I’m so grateful for a healthy baby. Some days I don’t know what I did to deserve such a perfect child.

So even when she makes this face

I embrace it. Because I know this one is coming.

And eventually this one

Right now, I’m laying in bed after feeding her and putting her back down. I so badly wanted to keep her awake and play with her, but I didn’t. My grandparents are coming to visit and we all need rest. I stand over her crib and watch her sleep. I know that the next noise she makes will either be her little wake up giggles or that wail I’ve grown to love. It means “Get me, mama!”

And I’ll scoop her up and we’ll start our day.

Enjoy the cries. They don’t last forever.

MommyRay Problems: Making Friends in an Unfriendly World

I am blogging live from my apartment pool. Yesterday we took Quinn for a splash.

Today I’m swimming solo, as my dear sweet husband is playing xBox with my daughter on his lap watching the baby so I can have some relaxing time by the pool.
My building has an interesting mix of people. There are mostly young singles here, but there are also several young mothers I have noticed walking around the property, on the elevator, or as we pass each other pushing our strollers of screaming kids in the hall.

Since having my baby 11 weeks ago, I’ve realized how much I miss my circle of friends. We are scattered so far away from each other. I can keep in contact with them, but we don’t see each other often enough.

Today as I sit at the pool alone, watching groups of girlfriends chit chat by the pool, I realize that I need new friends here in Atlanta. I never really made any before now. My life was consumed with work before Matt moved here permanently, and if I wanted to see my friends I just loaded up in the car and took a road trip home to Alabama.
I have one good friend here but we live far enough apart that seeing each other more than once every couple of weeks is tough.

So how do you make friends in an unfriendly world?

Sure, I could go over and infiltrate myself into their conversations, but that would be strange.

I have looked on MeetUp.com because that’s where I found my awesome book club that I was a member of last year and it seems that most of the moms groups are by invitation only. I’m not sure I want to be involved in something too exclusive to include a new mom that doesn’t know anyone.

Making friends as a kid is easy. You run over on the playground and ask someone if they want to push you on a swing and bam, friendship starts. As an adult, it gets trickier. Especially when you go through a life changing event like having your first child.

Everything changes.

I’m hoping to find my place in the Mommyhood soon.

Wide Awake, Random Thoughts

My baby is sound asleep.

But I’ve been awake for 2 hours. Bad dreams about bad things happening to Quinn and Matt get me every time.

Last week we went to Alabama and my parents and grandparents got to spoil Quinn rotten.

Quinn’s first trip to Alabama was fun. We got to visit with family and see my best friend.

This week we have been taking long walks with our girl.

She had her 2 month check up this week, which included shots. She did ok. Breaks my heart in pieces to hear that post-shot cry though. When I was a kid my dad would buy me a Barbie after every shot. I’m thinking we’ll have to do something like that when she’s older. Our little 7 lb 5 oz baby has grown to 13 lbs 5 oz.

I’m so proud of her!

I saw this the other day

I love this. Between this blog and my weight loss blog, I don’t post a lot. I love documenting both aspects of my life, but I’m also very much living in the moment. I will never get these days back with her. I don’t want to look back and wish I had done things differently with her, so she is my main focus.

It’s hard balancing your old life with your new life as mother. I’m so glad I don’t have to balance a full time job as well. This job is so important.

Babies don’t keep. Soak up every minute.

Mama’s Day

I’m so happy to have this little bundle of love in my life.

She has been the biggest challenge and the biggest joy all at once.
Last week I took her to the park to meet one of my nanny friends who also has a baby for a little sit around the sandbox. Because of my previous divorce, my BMW was picked up by the repo man.

They came to get it last week before this planned park day.
We are fortunate enough to have a truck to drive from my parents while we sort out a nice family car.

Y’all. It’s redneck. It’s loud. Quinn has to sit in the front seat because that’s all there is. I turn the airbag off, but still. She loves the loud noise.

Well I pulled up to the park that I’ve been to 100 times as a nanny in a bmw, but this time in this big beast. I noticed the strange looks I was getting because the thing is so dang loud. I got out and strapped Quinn to my chest in the Baby Bjorn, a contraption I swore I’d never use. She likes it. I use it.

I walked over to some strange looks and hung out with my friend and her kids in the sand box. It was so nice to get out in the sunshine with my little lady.

When it was time to leave, I walked back towards Rhonda, the big loud truck (Matt named it). The moms that were staring at me when I got there were still in the same place.

I got nervous because I was parked right in front of where they were standing and Rhonda is the loudest when you fire her up. I knew what was coming, and I was embarrassed already. I loaded Quinn up in Rhonda

And then I took a deep breath and cranked her up. Everyone standing in front of us turned and stared. I don’t blame them. The truck has loud hillbilly pipes on it. In Alabama it’s common to put pipes like this on a truck. In Atlanta at a park in an affluent area, not so common to hear.

As I was sitting there with eyes burning into me I thought about my life. I’m so grateful to have the things and opportunities I’ve had. I live a good life. It’s not always easy and we aren’t rolling in money anytime soon, but we have what we need. If it wasn’t for the support of my family we wouldn’t have Rhonda to fill in the gap while we find the family car we need. I realized I shouldn’t be embarrassed, and I shouldn’t teach my daughter to be embarrassed because she doesn’t have what other people might have.

I did what any southern girl driving a loud truck would do:
I put my foot in it and let them hear it real loud. Quinn was thrilled.

Growth Spurt

We put Quinn in her high chair for the first time today. She was content for about 10 minutes.

Then she wanted out.
She has been nursing nonstop. I think she’s hitting a growth spurt because I track her feedings on the Medela nursing app and I have nursed her 13 times since 5am today. We had gotten down to about 8 times.
I can’t believe how fast our little baby is growing. I have had lots of fun comparing baby pictures to see who she looks more like.

Me on the left, Q on the right. Similarities, for sure.
But this

This proves that she really looks exactly like her daddy. It’s scary how much their profiles are alike when I’m watching him talk to her and they are face to face. She has his expressions, too.

I’m hoping this growth spurt is over soon. It’s exhausting for her and for me. She’s sleeping peacefully in her bed swaddled up in her baby straight jacket (aka SwaddleMe) so I better get to sleep myself.

Some things I have in the works for this blog are:

• Hospital review and Quinn’s birth story

• A list of my must have baby products

• My review on cloth diapering. We’re one month in and I have a lot to say about it!

G’nite, y’all!

Eating my words with a baby spoon

I have a long list of things I said I’d never do as a parent. I had this unrealistic idea if what parenthood was like. I have been at this for almost 2 months and have eaten my words every. single. day.

Nursing
I thought that nursing would be this magical time that I would have with my baby. I would sit in our rocking chair with soft music playing and my complete attention would be on her. She’d make eye contact and I’d sing her songs and talk softly to her. It would be perfect.

Ha. Hahahahaha.

I quickly learned that feeding her every hour on the hour all night long in those first few weeks was exhausting, and staying awake was a difficult task. Netflix became my BFF. She wasn’t looking at me anyway, so Army Wives, Arrested Development, and the entire series of Weeds kept me chipper and kept me from falling asleep and dropping my baby.

I also said I’d never eat while nursing my baby. If I didn’t eat while nursing her, I’d starve. Poor thing gets crumbs dropped on her, but she’s been latched on off and on for 4 hours tonight. Four. Hours. I totally ate my dinner with her attached to my boob. Thankfully she’s knocked out in the swing so I have a break.

I’ve learned that the most important thing about nursing is that I’m doing it, and I’m proud that I stuck it out even when it was tough. Even if I did get crumbs on my baby. Oooops.

Sleep
I swore that Quinn would always sleep in her bed. She does at night. But we have taken many, many naps together with her in my bed.

She mainly sleeps in her swing or in her own bed now, but the first month was rough.
She has also slept on her stomach before. I do make sure I’m awake when that happens.

But it is one of the things I said I’d never do. Gotta survive, y’all.

Beer
I drank my first postpartum beer when Q was just a couple weeks old. I didn’t pump and dump. She’s still kicking.

I had sworn off alcohol until I was no longer nursing. That’s just not realistic.

TV
My child stares at the TV. I don’t like it, but she will look around you to stare at whatever is on. If we want her full attention we turn it off, then we usually get a look like this.

I do not want her to be the TV kid. I really don’t want her to be the TV baby. I also don’t want to sit in a room all day with her and never turn on the TV for myself. We’ll just continue to watch the news together.

These are just a few of the things I’ve bent my own rules on. I’m sure there will be many, many more.

I’m writing this to let all new mothers know that it’s ok. It’s ok not to be perfect. It’s ok to change your views of things when you’re deep in the trenches of the war zone that is motherhood. I love my baby more than anything in the world and I’ll do anything to protect her. I’ve learned to relax my own set of unrealistic rules so I can be a better mother to her.
We like to have fun.

Bless her little heart.

Welcome to the Nut House

Welcome to my mommy blog. I swore when I was pregnant with my little Quinn and writing my other blog that I would never ever ever become one of those women that started a mommy blog.

Here I am, eating those words. What changed my mind the most is that parenthood is funny. I’m from Alabama and my husband is from rural England. We admittedly have no clue what we are really doing and the outcome of our parenting blunders is worth documenting. Our daughter, Quinn, was born March 8, 2013 via C-section. The first time I saw her I was in awe of what we had done. Becoming a mother really is a cool experience, albeit terrifying. Especially since I swore I’d never have kids. I like to eat my words, I suppose.

Matt is a wonderful father.

Together, we do ok with our little Chubbysaurus.
I’m very excited share our life with you.
The good, the bad, and the ugly cries.