The Great Diaper Switch

Disclaimer: This letter is based on the "Dear Life Cereal" letter from Family Guy. Thank you Family Guy writers, there is no way I could ever be as funny as you.

Dear Luvs Diapers,

Where do you get off? Less bulk and absorbent? Who do you think you are? By now, you may have guessed I'm speaking ironically and have nothing but good things to say about what you do. Luvs Diapers, do not change a thing.

Signed,

The Modern Homemaker

Dictated but not read

Apparently two weeks ago the Army Corp of Engineers rerouted Niagara Falls into Scooter's diaper and didn't tell me. I found out when I got her up from her nap and noticed her crib had turned into a protected wetland. The egret flying down the hall should of been a clue as to what awaited me. So I went to Babies R Us. There was no way I was using the diapers I've pretty much used for the past year anymore. I won't say their name, but let's just say it rhymes with Schmuggies. So I'm walking toward the diaper aisle when I hear what sounds like a choir of angels. Suddenly from above I see the most beautiful golden light streaming down to a stack of purple boxes. There, in front of me, is 204 Luvs diapers for less than what I paid for 140 of Schmuggies. Hallelujah! When I left the store I must have looked like Lindsay Lohan stealing a necklace because I seriously thought I was getting away with something.

When I got home and schlapped one of these bad boys on Scooter, I started grabbing two of everything and loading the ark. There was no way these paper thin diapers were going to hold up to what Scooter had in store. Well, three hours later (because someone got side tracked with dinner, I know, bad mom) and a lot of moving and shaking on Scooter's end, her clothes were still dry. Plus she told me she likes the way they make her butt look. Not really, she's only one, has a vocabulary of three words, and doesn't even know she has a butt. So this household is officially converted, even though I still hate their creepy commercials.

Holy crap it's spring!

So somehow the change of seasons has snuck up on me once again. This might be due to the fact that I just got around to taking down my outside Christmas lights last weekend... oops. While I love to say goodbye to winter, I'm a bit unprepared for spring. I had big plans for this winter, and somehow none of them were accomplished because, and let's be honest here, my plans were the equivalent of ten pounds of poo, and my time was only a five pound bag. So spring, I'm officially pissed at you right now, and here's why.

1. You are officially the Charlie Sheen of all the seasons. One day you're seventy degrees and sunny and the next day you forget to drink your tiger blood and are twenty five below and icy. I refuse to bring my flip flops out until April because, seriously, if I did it before then you'd drop the mother of all snow bombs on me. Plus, I haven't painted my toes since mid-October and it's gonna take me until April to shape up those talons.


2. Spring signals the return of pollen. Now, I was blessed with the ultimate of all non-allergy genes. And while the hubs likes to think of himself as the perfect male specimen, he really got shafted when it comes to allergies. I mean, this guy can just think of a tree and start sneezing. So spring also signals the return of the "man allergies" which is kind of like the man cold, only it's accompanied by me constantly nagging him with the "Why don't you just go to the damn allergist?!"


3. I can no longer blame my super lame landscaping on the deadness of winter. Now I love to garden as much as the next guy, maybe more, but I have what's known as that-woman-can't-estimate-the-area-of-her-flower-bed disorder. Very very tragic and unfortunate, no cure either. It's not until I actually get outside and start to garden that I remember, "Crap, these things go all the way around the house and then some!" This is about the time that I blame Scooter for being fussy for why I couldn't get everything planted and mulched.


4. Finally, daylight savings time. I mean, who the hell thought up this little gem? And why the hell does it happen on the weekend? Everyone wouldn't be so pissed with it if it happened on a Friday at 4pm. And seriously, I didn't realize how many damn clocks were in my house until I had to turn them all forward. Ok, that's not true, most of them were never changed back in October.

So spring, there it is. I know you aren't all that bad, you're not as bad as that frigid bitch winter, I'll give you that. And you do bring some pretty great things along with you, like Cadbury Eggs. So for that, you'll get a pass.

My little shoplifter

Last week I decided to take Scooter to Macy's for a little shopping. She needed a first birthday and Easter dress, and really, I just needed to get out of the house. So away we went, I even took her big comfy stroller since this wasn't just going to be a one store shopping trip. Well, her big stroller can sometimes obstruct my view of her, especially when I'm distracted by all the cute spring outfits and trying to decide if $50.00 is too much to spend on one dress (it isn't by the way, not when it's the cutest Easter dress known to man). So, about fifteen minutes and seven new outfits later, I go to checkout. The lady rings me up and tells me my total. I turn to retrieve my wallet from one of the eighty seven bags required when taking a baby out only to see my sweet little Scooter with a stuffed duck in one hand and the price tag, ripped from the duck's ass, in the other, about to be inserted into her mouth. I grab the tag out of her hand, hand it to the sales lady, and say "Well, I guess we've bought this too."

Sigh, my sweet girl has turned into a little shoplifter. I must admit though, before we left I did take her through the purse department with a little glimmer of hope.

Mom Hair

As of 24 hours ago, I was one step away from wearing mom jeans. Since I found out I was pregnant in 2009, I slowly slipped into the mom style abyss. I'm not exactly a fashion and beauty connoisseur, but I put a fair amount of effort into my appearance when venturing into public. So, imagine my horror when I was viewing the family photo album with Scooter last weekend and, right before my eyes, I witnessed my progression into a complete and utter mess (not even a hot mess.) I mean, it was like an episode of What Not To Wear, but without the $5,000 consolation prize. Thinking back, I can honestly remember key points when I just stopped caring. Around three months pregnant, I stopped getting my hair done. Around seven months pregnant, I stopped wearing makeup. Then after Scooter was born, I pretty much stopped wearing jeans, non-sports bras, and any shirt that was not a tee or hooded sweatshirt.

I swiftly scheduled an appointment with my stylist. I was also motivated by the fact that the hubs wouldn't give me a direct answer when I asked if my appearance had been a little lacking. I mean, this is the guy who's idea of beauty is using shampoo instead of bar soap. So, two hours in the salon and a lot of gossip later, my hair no longer resembles an English Sheepdog. I've got my sexy bang and layers back and actually styled them this morning, even though I wasn't going anywhere. I've also taken the first steps to accomplishing my New Year's Resolution to get back in shape. Amazing what a little pampering a beauty can do!

Untold secrets of L&D

I know about 83 million people having babies in 2011, many of whom are first time parents. This combined with the fact that my little Scooter is a month shy of her first birthday got me reflecting on that fateful March day. Now, anyone who knows me will tell you I love being prepared. I mean prepared in a way that I have a basement stocked with canned food, I mapquest and GPS all directions, and layout my clothing the night before. Yeah, that kind of prepared. So naturally when I found out I was expecting I read all the books (I mean ALL the books), took all the classes, and spoke endlessly to my doctor about my pregnancy and delivery. Despite all this, nothing could really prepare me for the Labor & Delivery experience. So to all you to-be-parents out there, take note, here are the things no one will ever tell you.

1. Take your birth plan... and throw it out the window. I had a birth plan, it included natural labor progression, an epidural, and the wonderful moment of holding my daughter for the first time after she was born. In reality, I had to have a scheduled c-section, ended up having a terrible allergic reaction to the sedation and morphine, and didn't get to hold my daughter until five hours after she was born. But I wasn't upset, because the most important part of your birth plan is having the realistic expectation that it might not go quite as planned and remembering that in the end, the most important thing is that you and your baby are healthy. By the way, true story, the woman in the room next to me included handsome Greek gods feeding her grapes during her delivery in her birth plan. Don't know if it actually happened.
2. All modesty must be checked at the door. By the time you reach L&D, you will be so used to being poked and prodded after the last nine months worth of doctor's appointments that a group of nursing students staring at your lady bits will not bother you one bit. By the time I reached postpartum I wanted to get out of the hospital so bad that I agreed to let a nursing student remove my foley catheter (more on this in a bit) just so I could meet the mobility requirement for discharge.
3. You will get a foley catheter with all epidurals and spinals. In all reality, this was pretty great. I mean, I didn't even have to get out of bed to pee! So don't fear this, it might actually be the best part of delivery. You know, besides getting a baby out of the whole thing.
4. Your postpartum room will be busier than Grand Central Station, so don't expect to get any sleep. Nurses will be in and out all hours of the day and night. At one point I almost made my husband put up a "Do not disturb" sign. They'll be in to take vitals, make sure you're peeing, make sure you're eating, and make sure your baby is also doing all these things. The best part is when they come in to change your "dressing" and clean your lady bits. Oh yeah, that's right, you'll be surfing the crimson tsunami. Luckily, most nurses will let you take care of this part on your own. Also a word of advice, invest in overnight pads and granny panties. They'll be much more comfortable than the disposable undies and pads the size of Texas the hospital supplies.
5. Just because you're in the hospital doesn't mean you have to sport the oh so fashionable hospital gown. I felt so much better once I showered and changed into my own clothes. And your baby doesn't have to wear the weird kimono shirt things that do nothing but ride up their backs. Remember, this is your child, you can dress them any way you want. I recommend onsies with mitten hands, without your child will look like they just competed in a backroom cock fight.
6. Finally, here are some of the best parts of L&D: room service, overnight nursery stays (do not feel guilty about this!), free discharge gifts (i.e. diaper bags, formula, diapers, and wipes), and the cute little bundle of joy.

So, a parting word of advice. Go into the whole experience with a really good sense of humor. You have the next 18 years to worry, L&D is a piece of cake compared to that!

Simple Pleasures

When I opened my can of coffee this morning and got that first delicious sniff, I started thinking of some of the other simple pleasures in my life...

• The first shoots of daffodils peaking through the ground in March.
• The feeling of getting into a freshly made bed.
• The first day of having my Christmas decorations up.
• The first day of not having my Christmas decorations up.
• Harvesting vegetables and flowers grown in my own garden.
• Turning the clocks forward so I'm no longer waking up before the sun.
• Finding an unexpected card or magazine in the mail.
• Winning an item at auction.
• The smell of scented candles burning.
• The feeling of walking in public when you know you are looking smoking hot.
• The sound of my high heels on pavement.
• The smell of a campfire.
• The silent stillness after a snow fall.
• Finding my bread dough has risen (even though that's what's it suppose to do!)

When I become a parent, I will never [fill in blank]

Before and during my pregnancy, I had a whole list of things I said I would never do when I became a parent. To all those would be parents out there uttering "My child will never do that," just stop now. Seriously, just stop.

1. I will never put my child in baby clothes that look like pajamas. Before I had Scooter, I thought the jeans and sweater look was absolutely adorable on babies. That was until I found out how much it cost. Oh yeah, and your child will likely grow at the rate of Yellow Grooved Bamboo, so just save yourself some money and shop consignment.
2. I will never let my child "cry it out." I always thought this was an excuse for parents to ignore their children. That belief lasted about 5 months, at which point I looked like an extra from Michael Jackon's Thriller video, but without all the cool dance moves. See my previous post on Health Sleep Habits, Happy Child to see how this worked out for me.
3. I will never give my child formula. "Formula is poison - it will cause nipple confusion and will make your milk supply not come in right," so said the lactation consultants. Since craigslist didn't have a listing for a Wet Nurse and my child was on the brink of hospitalization due to jaundice and dehydration, I went with formula and was able to eventually switch to exclusive breastfeeding with no problem. Weird.
4. I will never do the spit on the Kleenex, Kleenex to child's face mom move. Yeah, this one has been broken multiple times. Sometimes you just gotta work with what you have.
5. I will never buy my child needless amounts of toys. There was once a time when I hated my family room carpet. Solution? Cover it with massive amounts of baby toys. Which, by the way, your child will bore of in about 22 seconds. They will find lids and remote controls much more entertaining. So save yourself some time and money and just invest in I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.
6. I will never let my child watch TV. Broken about six hours after Scooter was born. Look, babies are cute and funny and all, but sometimes mama just needs a cup of coffee and an episode of Ellen.
7. I will never compare my child. Every parent is guilty of comparing their child to others, then worrying obsessively that their child is some how developmentally delayed. I was guilty of this when a friend's baby the same age as Scooter starting crawling and standing up at 6 months and Scooter could barely sit independently. I worried until, at 8 months old, Scooter beat up a four year old. That's my girl.