Happy Halloween--From the Pumpkin Patch!

These are amazing feats of carving genius!

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Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween to all!  I hope you have a wonderful day and night with your family. I would love to see your photos!  firsttimemomanddad @ gmail.com  I will be posting them on Sunday.

Here are a few of my favorite original costumes....

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Only a baby can get away with...

Babies are so sweet, so cute, and so freaking naughty. They can get away with just about anything. Below are a few of the behaviors not only can a baby can get away with, but has made completely socially acceptable until at least they are one year old!

  1. Crap in their pants and scream until someone wipes their ass. And that's ok!
  2. Put their foot in their mouth and be praised for it.
  3. Pee on your foot and make you feel like it was somehow your fault.
  4. Throw food at you as an acceptable way to convey the message that your food sucks.
  5. Smash you in the face, repeatedly, as a way to let you know how excited they are.
  6. Pull on your hair until your eyes fill with tears, and not get in trouble for it. 
  7. Scream and cry to get what they want. And the louder they cry, the faster they get it. 
  8. Take off their sock seconds after having them put on... over and over and over again.
  9. Party all night and sleep all day, but still make sure you are up the full 24. 
  10. Make you go broke and feel SO damn good about it! 

And now for FTD's list....
  1. Vomit in your mouth, puke in your hair
  2. Flirt with multiple ladies in the supermarket
  3. Tie up the TV watching 8 hours of Teletubbies when the football finals are on
  4. Pull the cats' tail out of its socket
  5. Smash up daddy's new Lego Star Wars Millennium Falcon
  6. Have a leaky shitty nappy on daddy's side of the bed (Oh my Gosh, too funny, this did happen!  FTD yells out, "Why is there a shit streak all down my side of the bed?!"  Oliver naped there and had a small leak... I totally missed it!  funny.
  7. Rip the dvd player off the shelf and smash it on the floor
  8. Play with the penis without going blind
  9. Punch mummy in the teat without getting an AVO (anger violence order)
  10. Slap nanna SOOOO hard that her spectacles hang off her ears 
And last but not least.. 

Get away with anything with a sweet smile and a quick mumble of "mama" or "dada."

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I'm going to smash every toy in this house!

I'm turning into Mommy Dearest, except I'm not screaming, "No Wire Hangers!"  I'm screaming, "Turn that damn toy off before I smash it!"  Oliver is only 9-months-old and I'm already loosing my mind from crazy flashing light talking baby toys! Those things are possessed. In fact, I am certain a couple of those evil things will work without batteries.

We have one toy that I have removed the batteries from and shoved it in the closet.  I know I sound like a mean mommy, but this one toy in particular would go off ALL DAY LONG, all I had to do was walk by... sometimes the possessed pile of plastic would yell out to me from the toy box.  What's worse is the song is still stuck in my head.  And what's even worse than that, the song that is stuck in my head is not even the right words!  Not that the damn toy says the right words....

This toy here....

....sings... Short short short your shapes, circles stripes and squares.... That cannot possibly be the words that are meant to be sung!  But I swear to you that's what the evil little lady bug? turtle? thing... says.  Oh my goodness I hate that toy!!

While I do not want to smash any other toys as much as I do that one, there are a couple in the nursery that seem to jump out and bite my ankles when I am trying to sneak out.  Sure enough my first step away from the crib and Bang! "Come play with me... la dee da da da.."  SHIT! I reach down to turn it off and knock into his little police car..."neee noooo neeee noooo neeee nooo....."  Damn! By this point Ollie is up ready to play... Tears in my eyes, I turn off the freaking toys, which we all know it takes a minute or two to find the tiny switch. I hate those toys!!

You know... Ollie would be happy with a cardboard box, why do I insist on buying him the latest and greatest flashing toy? Because we all know why... to see the little guy smile, or  because I buy into the promise that it will make him smarter, talk sooner, walk faster... Because I am a sucker that wants to spend money I don't have to make my baby happy and more awesome than he already is.

As much as I want to blame the toy manufacturers for creating 15 versions of the same type of toy, it's my fault for buying them.  My fault for not turning them off.  My fault for not buying just one flashy singy annoying piece of plastic with a face.  Damn I hate those toys. Will I stop buying them? No. Will I smash the shit out of a couple of them in a deserted field with a baseball bat when Ollie grows out of them, HELL YES! The rest I will pass on to another unsuspecting mother.


In other news....

I would like to thank My friend and fellow Blogger Ninja Kitten for hooking me up with an awesome banner for the blog.  Thanks Ninja Kitten you are my hero!!


In other other news...

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Oh No! We've been invited to our first kid birthday party.

Oh No! We've been invited to our first kid birthday party.
The day has come... Our family has been invited to our first child's birthday party. Shit!  That's all I have to say about that. I knew that since we had a kid, the day would come that we would have to start the birthday party circuit... But so soon?

This family knows us, why the hell did they invite us? FTD and I cannot be trusted to behave at a child's birthday party! Yes, I am a mommy blogger and a loving mother, but other peoples kids... yeah, not so much. Please don't hate me and stop reading my blog. Look, if your kid is not a total brat or a booger blaster I'm willing to try...

Ok, so birthday party for a boy turning two.  What the hell do we bring? How do we dress?  Should we pack a hip flask, or do parents provide booze. How long do we have to stay?  Will we get fed?  We deserve to be fed!  Shit. Why did they invite us?!

When, I told FTD about the invite, he said the same thing, "They invited us? Well, they knew what they were doing when they sent the invite." I told him we just had to try to be on out best behavior.  Of course he insisted that he would not be on his best behavior, instead he was going to try to be on his worst behavior, so we could get black balled right out of ever gettin anymore invites, thus ending our children's birthday circuit before it even starts.

I am just afraid that they must think because we have a kid we are grown up now.  Dumb asses!  We are not grown up.  FTD is Australian.  He Will NEVER EVER grow up. He will also never stop saying bad words. I have explained to my friends its just a cultural difference.  Of course they ask what my excuse is... to which I answer "can't beat  em' join em'."

Shit!  I really have no desire to go to this party!  Loads of kids running around and screaming. We have enough kid chasing and listening to screaming at home. What if there is really no booze? FTD will loose his pint loving mind.

Ok, in all fairness this family is awesome, they are our friends. We drink and eat together brilliantly.  Their son is super sweet. The husband make tasty beer!  The wife can cook and bake her ass off.  We do love them, that is the only reason we are going... I think we are going... I am honestly not 100% yet...

WHAT?  FTD and I cannot be trusted!  We are filter less, and so incapable of conforming to any type of behavior or circle, we may just act out out of fear we are conforming just by turning up to this thing... er... birthday party. Ok, forget it! We can't go.  We have no business it this type of social circle.

Oh Lord!  Please God, let FTD and I become semi normal parents so Oliver does not grow up either completely embarrassed by us, or worse, become us!

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20 Pregnancy Truths

Want to know what you really should expect when you are expecting...

The day before I delivered.
Trust me there were no unicorns or rainbows
that guided me peacefully through my pregnancy!

  • One of the first symptoms is 'Morning Sickness,' which then becomes 'noon, night and the rest of your pregnancy sickness.'
  • You will cry over anything, anytime, anywhere.
  • Your daydreams will not be about your baby or fairy tales... they will be about ripping people’s faces off. 
  • Strangers are going to touch you, and this is completely legal when you are pregnant. Yes, they are going to reach right out, rub on your belly and tell you some sort of personal story about a friend or family member's pregnancy, and the seriously crazy thing is that, most likely, you will just stand there and take it with a smile.  
  • Your significant other will remain #1 on your sh!t list for the duration of your pregnancy.  
  • Think you are only going to gain a few pounds and exercise everyday?  Yeah, good luck with that...20-60 pounds are coming, deal with it. This pregnancy is not about your butt, it's about growing a healthy baby.
  • Refuse to use a public restroom? Do they disgust you? Get ready for some life changing experiences. By week 12, you will pee anywhere. Including the uni-sex toilets in a dark alley behind a gas station. Tip: Keep a travel size roll of toilet paper in your handbag for ill equipped places, i.e. guardrails, inservice bathroom, bushes behind church because the line is too long to wait...
  • Expect lethal air to flow from your body for months. Seriously. Your pregnancy induced flatulence will flush out an entire movie theater.
  • Don't worry, it's not only you, every pregnant can't push out a poop without cussing and sweating, a lot, first.
  • By about week 33, you will loose your mouth filter. Completely. 
  • Warning, it's entirely possible that your butt and breast will grow at the same rate as your belly. Oh, and your feet are going to grow at least a full size. Think of it as your body trying to balance its self.
  • You will be so exhausted from the second you wake up until the second you fall asleep. 
  • Tylenol PM and milk make up the new Friday night happy hour special. It's your best and probably only chance at six hours of sleep.
  • Headaches and back pain will constantly fight each other for your attention. 
  • Beware of fried and spicy foods, the heart burn and indigestion they create is, well... worse than the fiery pits of hell, which you will think is inside your belly.
  • The baby will absorb your brain, thus leaving you a mindless twit. TIP: keep an extra set of car keys and house keys on hand for mindless moments.
  • Your food cravings will be not be so much about crazy combos, but more like obsessive need for something. Beware, trips to the nearest ice cream place can be come a habit, so if they have a frequency card, SIGN UP! 
  • Towards the last two months, if it feels like your baby is doing jumping jacks on your bladder, attempting to pry your rib cage apart and kick boxing all night long, good news, That's normal!  The bad news is you might as well say good bye to a good night's sleep. Don't be surprised if by the 9th month you will have mastered the art of sleeping sitting up, because that will be the only way you sleep. 
  • If by week 33 you are so stuffed full of baby you can barely breathe, don't worry, even though you are sure of it, you won't suffocate. 
  • Pregnancy lasts ten months, not nine.  Don't worry... it does eventually end, and it's totally worth it. 


Making the Most of the Moment. Pity Party No More!

It is no secret that lately I have been feeling old, boring and annoyed with my life, or lack there of.  I have been longing for the ease and lack of responsibility of my roaring twenties.  I finally realized what a huge freaking waste that is. Basically, I am wasting my precious moments of today, on the precious moments of yesterday. If I keep this wastefulness up, I will find myself at 44 looking back to 34 wondering where the time went, and what I did with it.

That nonsense has to stop!  Life goes by so fast, sitting around wishing back the good ol' days is just plain stupid.  I have a beautiful son, who is growing up so fast. Now is not the time to be having selfish pity parties.  I don't want him to read these posts and think I regret in anyway having him. Besides, this is not at all about him, it's about me.

Someone once told me, "Having a baby is a process, not an event."  When I heard it I thought, Damn Right!  However, it was not until lately that I realized what that really meant. The adjustments that come with having a baby are epic. Changing your entire lifestyle to accommodate the beautiful bundle o' baby is a process to say the least.

A week, or two, of pity parties has created possibly the longest stretch of wasteful living I have ever had.  What a selfish baby I have been.  Seriously, at this rate my son will grow up before I do. While I would love to say, Abracadabra, make me super mom and super April equally, I know that is impossible.  So now I am just trying to live my life with the motto, Make the Most of the Moment.

If I live for both my son and myself, eventually a nice balance should, hopefully, emerge.  That's all this past two weeks has really been about, trying to find the Me in my new life of Motherhood. I made the mistake of letting motherhood consume 100% of me. Now, 9-months later I am resentful.  Not at my son, but at myself for not at least taking at a minimum 10% out for me.  I am definitely not winning woman of the year this way.

I realize it's not about trying to grasp onto the old crazy fun times in my life, that we all agree would be next to impossible to keep up with. It's about finding the awesome person inside of the awesome mom I have become. So my friends, with a glass of wine in my hand, I toast to the promise of finding the perfect balance between me and mommy. And this time I mean it... ; )

I love this photo of me.
It was taken in 08' in Voclabruck, Austria.
I put it on my refrigerator to remind me that
 this same awesome chick is inside of the awesome mommy I have become.
At least once a week I need to tap into her...

Happy Monday to you.  Have a wonderful week.  I hope you Make the Most of every Moment too.  

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The ugly truth about Birth Order... FUNNY!

The ugly truth about Birth Order... FUNNY!

(I originally posted this on Tiredofbeingpregnant.com.  I did not make this up. But, I cannot for the life of me remember where I found it.)  


1st baby: You begin wearing maternity clothes as soon as your OB/GYN confirms your pregnancy.
2nd baby: You wear your regular clothes for as long as possible.
3rd baby: Your maternity clothes ARE your regular clothes.

Preparing for the Birth:

1st baby: You practice your breathing religiously.
2nd baby: You don't bother because you remember that last time,
breathing didn't do a thing.
3rd baby: You ask for an epidural in your eighth month

The Baby clothes:

1st baby: You pre-wash newborn's clothes, colour co-ordinate them, and
fold them neatly in the baby's little bureau.
2nd baby: You check to make sure that the clothes are clean and discard
only the ones with the darkest stains.
3rd baby: Boys can wear pink, can't they?


1st baby: At the first sign of distress--a whimper, a frown--you pick up
the baby.
2nd baby: You pick the baby up when her wails threaten to wake your
3rd baby: You teach your three-year-old how to rewind the mechanical


1st baby: If the dummy falls on the floor, you put it away until you can
go home and wash and sterilize it.
2nd baby: When the dummy falls on the floor, you squirt it off with some
juice from the baby's bottle.
3rd baby: You wipe it off on your shirt and pop it back in.

Diaper/Nappy changing:

1st baby: You change your baby's nappies every hour, whether they need
it or not.
2nd baby: You change their nappy every two to three hours, if needed.
3rd baby: You try to change their nappy before others start to complain
about the smell or you see it sagging to their knees.


1st baby: You take your infant to Baby Gymnastics, Baby Swing, and Baby Story Hour.
2nd baby: You take your infant to Baby Gymnastics.
3rd baby: You take your infant to the supermarket and the dry cleaner.

Going Out:

1st baby: The first time you leave your baby with a sitter, you call
home five times.
2nd baby: Just before you walk out the door, you remember to leave a
number where you can be reached.
3rd baby: You leave instructions for the sitter to call only if she sees

At Home:

1st baby: You spend a good bit of every day just gazing at the baby.
2nd baby: You spend a bit of everyday watching to be sure your older
child isn't squeezing, poking, or hitting the baby.
3rd baby: You spend a little bit of every day hiding from the children.

Swallowing Coins:

1st child: When first child swallows a coin, you rush the child to the
hospital and demand x-rays.
2nd child: When second child swallows a coin, you carefully watch for
the coin to pass.
3rd child: When third child swallows a coin you deduct it from his

And last a few of my favorite Jokes about pregnancy...

How will I know if my vomiting is morning sickness or the flu?
~If it’s the flu, you’ll get better.

I normally wear a size 34-C bra. Now that I’m pregnant, should I continue to wear a bra?
~Not if you don’t mind switching in the future to a size 34-Long.

What does it mean when the baby’s head is crowning?
~It means you feel as though not only a crown but the entire throne is trying to make its way out of you.

A little boy went up to a pregnant woman and asked: "Why is your tummy so fat?" "There's a baby growing in there," she cheerfully told him. The little one waited a few seconds then asked: "So what's growing in your backside?"

And last....

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Never Say Never... I've sold out.

Oh, my this is going to be one of those posts I just shouldn't even post.  I'm feeling a bit manic and restless.  Whatever... here goes a few bits of chaotic ramblings...

1. Never Say Never... I've sold out.

My 2006 12" iBook G4 has crapped it's pants.  I am tearing up talking about it.  I love that little thing.  I bought it ages ago, traveled it all over the world with it, and shared so many good times with it. That damn thing was my security blanket.  Now it is no better than a boat anchor.  My heart is breaking...

So, the blogging show must go on... The only way to make that show go on, for now, is to use FTD's SHiTHOLE!!!! PC. Yes, that's right, I am a MAC, FTD is a PC.  We have learned to agree to disagree on this one.  This issue is the only topic that has caused us not to speak for 24 hours.  Warning: If you call my MAC shit, I will react horribly.


FTD- "There are rules to using this fine piece of Machinery."
ME-"Get Effed, Give it to me."
FTD-"Now you really cannot use it."
ME-" Sorry. You were saying... rules..."
I swear I saw his mouth moving but all I could smell was asshole...Stupid PC.

Anyways, I wrote a great post, and poof it was gone.  This my friends, that diapering act, is number 1 on my list of PC hating.  What is that?  Why are the track pads so sensitive that in one second your heart and soul can disappear into the PC Black (ass) hole forever?  UGH!

So, left with no other choice I had to further sell out and feel dirty...

I NEED a new laptop.  I am desperate.  I should not admit this, but I am a few ticks past desperate...

I...We... cannot afford to buy me a new/refurbished MAC right now. sniff sniff...

So out of a fit of desperation I have added a "Tip Jar" feature to my blog for readers to monetarily contribute to the blogs longevity.  Yes, I did the one thing I thought I would never do, I put a begging jar on my blog.  Since I think there is a special place in hell for PayPal, I used Google merchant.  Much better.  Anyways, I am embarrassed, but that is still not stooping as low as having to pretend to like and be grateful for FTD's SHiTHOLE PC!

Ugh. I am going to stop ranting.

Here are some things that have made me smile or laugh lately...

He is such a chub!

I like Hores too.  

When FTD spotted these 'Groves" in our local Asian Market...
It's not only that gloves is misspelled,
at the bottom right it ways there are 45/50pcs.
 So an odd number of Groves is possible...


New Mommy/Baby Tips, Blended Family, Not Enough Love

New Mommy/Baby Tips, Blended Family, Not Enough Love
Today's Friday Question comes from a dear old friend who is about to pop out her 4th, yes number FOUR! Oh, and she is expecting this little bundle to rear it's head on Halloween... as if number 4 is not scary enough! Sorry, Mrs G. You know I tell it like I see it. ^..^

Anyways, God love her, her pregnancy brain/baby amnesia has caused her to slip and ask me a few questions... so here is her email...

"So even though this is my fourth actual pregnancy and I feel like I should be a pro I am freaking out. Do I have that much love to go around? Since you are still in the recoup phase so to speak, got any words of encouragement? 

On a separate topic, are all the ladies on your page with the original fathers? I wondered how others might be doing with a blended family."

This was my instant reply to her...

"I cannot believe you are asking me for advice! Of course I have to say GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW!  The lack of sleep after delivery is just awful. I also remember how hard it was to sleep when I was super stuffed about to pop... so just rest. Feet up!

I already think about how will I love number 2 as much... I tell myself that each baby is so individual that I will fall madly in love with the stuff that makes that baby special.  Plus, I have had so many people tell me I will love #2 more than I can imagine... just like I do with Ollie.

Now, about the blended family.  I am going to make this tomorrow's "Friday Blog Question."  I know of one reader who is in a blended family, and it seems to be going great, but I would love to hear how many others."


First of all, I have come to realize, while I am an actual new mom and 'first timer,' all moms are new moms all over again with each new baby.  Each baby is so different form the last, that you really do not know what to expect.  I have been told they are almost completely opposite from each other.  Which is awesome if it's true, because then I will sleep with baby number 2! 

Second, I have heard over and over again about the fear of not being able to love the next baby as much as the first. I also hear you will, no question about it. There is plenty of love to go around, even with number 4,5,6.... Oddly enough I don't have that fear at all.  I worry about splitting my time equally between the children.  Showing each I love them and have time for them equally.  I am a middle child, I know first hand the feeling of fighting for mommy's time and loosing.  Hopefully since I am mindful of this issue, it will not be an issue.

And last, The Blended Family. I come from the blended family dynamic.  And thank God for that!  My older sister is a 'half sister,' but as far as I am concerned she is my whole-hearted best sister in the world!  I would be lost without her.  She is my best friend!  I know blending at first is trying, but in our situation it was the best, even if I did get into my big sisters stuff and make her wish she was an only child again. ;)

I would love to hear about your blended family stories, trials, triumphs, lessons, tips...


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Helicopter Parenting... Easy killer, you don't want a sissy do you?

Helicopter Parenting is characterized as a parent that hovers over their child. Thus not fully allowing them to grow, develop and live without their parent's presence and input in nearly every aspect of their life. This is also known as over parenting.

My friends, lately FTD has been the helicopter parent of the century.  This man can hover so low, for so long it's amazing. I get worn out watching him in action... What's got him hovering is his is fear of Oliver bumping his head or getting hurt. he stand behind him constantly spitting out, "No, baby you are going to hurt yourself." or "OLIVER!  No! DANGER!!!" I of course get all over FTD for it, explaining that Ollie needs to grow and learn, the bumps and bruises along the way are necessary evils.  FTD doesn't want to hear me, because he doesn't want to hear Ollie cry.

For those of you who have been reading since the early days, then you know it was FTD who first let Ollie fuss on his belly, when I thought I would die from the sound. It was also FTD that let Oliver balance on his legs for longer than I thought necessary as a little baby.  I was the helicopter parent then.

I have recently come to realize that FTD was fine with the fussing because Oliver was learning without getting hurt.  He could bear the fussing because Ollie was annoyed not in pain.  I couldn't bear the fussing because I felt like it wasn't necessary, since tummy time and standing on his legs for long periods was not crucial...  Ok, so maybe they were and that's why Ollie can crawl and stand and even cruise at 8-months-old, who knows... Still I will jump and hover over unnecessary fussing and crying.  i.e Sleep training.  :p


Now that Oliver is crawling and cruisin' for a brusin,' FTD is beside himself trying to protect his son from pain.  I on the other hand know that Ollie will never walk or gain even the smallest pain thresh hold without letting him figure it all out on his own.  FTD refuses to accept this, and therefore hovers over him.  The main problem is that this Helicopter Parenting, like all forms of over parenting, is keeping Ollie from, well... for lack of a better way to explain it, meet his full potential... or grow.

When Ollie and I are home all day I let him go wild, use the furniture to cruise, climb up the wall, and yes fall down and hit his head.  But, in my defense, letting him go ass wild has helped him learn to climb, cruise and even hit his head without crying.  He even pulled a plastic chair down on himself and didn't cry!  Ok, probably a bad example to share with the world... but still, the little guy is growing up to be a tough little dude, thanks to mommy letting him bang and clang around the house. No thanks to dads hovering abilities.

That's right, why put him in the jumper,
when he can climb all over it when dad's at work...
I have no doubt that FTD and I will continue to trade off being helicopter pilots for a few more years, at least.  Ideally we will eventually trade the overprotective parenting style for a healthy balance that allows our son to be independent and learn things for himself, but still be hands on parents with out being complete freaks.  Some days I don't know which is harder, being the developing child, or the developing parent...

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The one thing all parents master before their child is a year old...

The one thing all parents master before their child is a year old...
The Standing Diaper Change...

Where the heck is that little nugget of information in the baby books?  Why didn't anyone tell me that the minute my baby learned to crawl, he would make changing his diaper near impossible? The hours I have wasted thinking I could teach my baby to lie still while I changed his diaper were a complete waste of time.  All I want to know is, why didn't anyone warn me about this, and where is the instruction manual on The Standing Diaper Change?

It took me complaining to my sister and girlfriend (both mothers of two) to find out, we are all chasing our bubs around at diaper change time. All babies refuse to lay still during change time. In fact, my sister insists that soon I will become a professional at the standing diaper change, poo filled ones and all.

The log rolling began a month ago when Oliver started crawling. The minute I laid him down on his back, he would roll to his belly and pop up to all fours. Next he started trying to use the railings of the change table to stand up. Of course I tried to stop him. I would flip him over, repeatedly, but he would just fuss and flip back over. After constant flipping and repeated "nos!", I moved on to Plan B... Distractions.

I tried to put toys in each hand to stop him from gripping the railings to roll over. Instantly he would drop the toys and flip.I tried the change table straps, he would still manage to roll under them. I even tried to put one arm across him to hold him down while I changed him with the other.  Nothing worked. One of my other been-there-done-that friends told me to put him on the floor and use my right leg to hold him down while I change him.  I have not tried this because the minute I try to restrain Ollie he cries. I am a spineless twit and cannot stand the sound of him crying, so restraint is out.

Now I cannot even get him on his butt before he starts flipping.  Oh, and FYI, that flip is ridiculous when there are a bunch of rabbit poop pellets in the diaper. I have gotten poop on my fingers more time than I can count. He refuses to stay down for me no matter what tactic I throw at him. Two points Oliver, zero mommy. As usual...

So, take it from me, your baby will not stay on his back the minute he figures out how to flip. You can try the tie-down straps on your change table, toys, "Nos!", what ever you want. Your only hope... sorry make that option, is to learn how to change your baby standing up. Which, from what I hear you will become good at it eventually.

I may be wrong about having no other option than mastering the art of the stand up diaper change... though I don't think I am. But please, if you know of another option please do share!


Dearest old friends, I forgive you. Drinks, on me!

Dearest old friends, I forgive you. Drinks, on me!
Dear old child-free friends,

Yes you, the one who ran like hell from me when I got knocked up. I forgive you.  I know the idea of children scared you, it scared me too.  But, the bottom line is that  I miss you. Dearly. I need some girl time.  I need to be in a completely kid-free zone. I promise I am still awesome.  I may not be able to keep up you you all night like I used to, but damn it I am willing to try.

Yes, I am a new mommy and could talk all day about it, but I promise I will not.  In fact, I promise not to talk about my son unless you ask a question.  Ok, maybe I will slip here and there, but I swear the entire night will not be wrapped in breastfeeding and dirty diapers.

I want to hang like we used to. Talk about hair, make-up, clothes and the bitch at the table next to us.  I want to complain about our lazy husbands and the never ending pile of bills we shift around to buy the sweetest winter coat EVER.  Oh my goodness I miss you, the wine and girl talk like you will never know.

I tried being friends with other mommies, but all we have in common is our kids. Meaning ALL we talk about is our kids.  UGH!  I just want to scream when I get togther with a fellow mommy friend and talk only about our babies and their mass of poop. I finally get out, and all I do is talk about my baby. It's not cool!  While my little guy is super awesome, I am too and want to talk about me and my interest for a change. 

Please, take me out with you. PLEASE!  I need to feel human again. I need to feel like there is more to me than being a mommy.  I need to get dressed up in puke free clothes, style puke free hair and get the hell out of the kid zone.  Please call me.  First round is on me!

Love always,


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FTD/FTM dynamic. Play/Panic

Every year our city has a big Halloween parade that is full of scary floats, crazy clowns, The Ghostbusters Mobile and even a truck full of zombies trying to escape. I am not a huge fan of Halloween or scary stuff, FTD is. He thinks the Halloween parade is the most fun. So much so, over the past three years FTD, and even his family one year, have come to the States just to see the parade, and then stick around to celebrate Halloween, since Australia barely acknowledges the holiday.  This year I was apprehensive about going because of Ollie. There were so many reasons I was against it that I am going to have to throw out a list...Just like I did for FTD...

1. The parade started at 7pm, which is when Ollie beings his bedtime routine.
2. Ollie refused his late afternoon nap so I knew he would get fussy.
3. The parade was going to be crowded, pushing a stroller through would suck.
4. There was going to be very loud music, lights and crazy clowns with chainsaws, which is way too much for even big kids. (Like me!)
5.The parade goes for 1.5 hours, no way could Ollie survive that long without a meltdown.
6. It's a big scary Halloween Parade, not suitable for babies!

I made this list very clear to FTD.  FTD just replied with, "Balls! Ollie is going to love it. Where is his Yoda costume?"

Reluctantly I told him where the costume was, and followed my boys out the door...

Within a few minutes Ollie started crying and screaming.  I immediately busted out the, "I told you so!" on FTD.  He took Ollie out of his stroller, gave him a couple of raspberry kisses to calm him down and onward we went...

The rest of the parade played out like this.

Ollie and FTD played and yelled and laughed while I panicked.  Damn it, I suck!  I was so sure Ollie was going to crumble that I spent the entire time waiting for it. Preparing for the worst. The worst never came.  Not even when the Hellraiser float came out with screaming, loud music, plumes of smoke and crazy clown people running into the crowd.  FTD and Ollie were having a blast. 

Fist in the air screaming in excitement 
at the Hellraiser float. 
The chainsaws were blazing, 
smoke machines polluting the air, 
screaming children everywhere, 
it was pure Halloween parade controlled chaos, 
FTD was in Heaven.  

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME???  I don't want to be that mom. I don't want to be so full of unnecessary anxiety that I miss out on fist pumping with FTD and Ollie.  How come now that I am a mom I am a panicky freak? I seriously need a chill pill.

I just want so bad to be the best mom with the best baby.  I couldn't help but think I was making a foolish decision by letting my baby go to a crazy loud parade that started at his bed time.  But, I wasn't making that choice alone.  FTD was sure it was going to be fine, and that I was being over protective. He was right, I ended up not having faith in both my son and husband.  I hate to admit this, but sometimes mommy doesn't know best...

Bottom line: I totally missed out on a fun night because I let myself become completely consumed with unnecessary anxiety.  On the bright side, I learned a valuable lesson early in Ollie's life. I vow to in the future wait for the meltdown before freaking out.  Or really, have more faith in my son's ability to handle life without my holding him close in a quiet room. 


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