Damn “Dada”

Jude's First Easter
J’s First Easter

Babies are lucky they are so cute. J now has three teeth (the top one finally broke through…woohoo!).

Know what sucks? That the first word tends to be “Dada.” Yeah, I get it…easier to say. HOWEVER, that does not take away from the fact that “Mama” does 90% of the work.

Grrrr.

So, he’s started with “Hi Dada.” And, at times it also sounds like he’s saying “Yep.” Very cute…still far from “Mama.”

I guess I should just be happy that he knows who I am and still gets overly excited at the sight of me. And, if you say, “where’s Mama?” he starts scanning the room until he finds me. That’s a plus.

We will still work on saying “Mama” and hopefully it’ll come soon. Still no crawling yet but he is starting to scoot his butt around and put his leg under like he is going to crawl…until he figures out what he’s done, gets freaked out, and starts crying.

Even though I was not his first word, I still pinch myself that he is my son. He has such a funny personality already and is growing so fast. I’m hoping that time slows down just a smidge so that I can savor these little memories.

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Held Hostage…with cookies.

Notice how life so conveniently gets in the way?

Well, I’m a horrible friend and have been keeping my friend Ashley‘s “magic sleep suit” that she let J borrow hostage. I suck.

Back story:

Ashley and I met in college where we sang together. She now has two adorable kids (that you can read about at her blog which is linked to above…go there, it’s good stuff!). Her son is about a month older than J. Well, thanks to the powers of social media, us moms/friends get to share our woes about our littles. My little was not sleeping. He’s better now…but still not sleeping through the night. Ashley let me know about the “magic sleep suit” and how it helped her little guy. Not consistently, but on the times he would wear it, she could get a good snooze stretch. I was desperate to try anything. At the time, the J-ster was up ever 1.5 to 2 hours. ROUGH. Continue reading “Held Hostage…with cookies.”

The Boob Juice Debate

Dear J,

Someday I hope that you can look back at this and read about all of the fun/quirky/exciting things of your childhood. But, today, I’m going to talk about the boob juice. I’m sure your teenage-self will get embarrassed, but get over yourself…it’s a fact of life, and you’re welcome for giving you nourishment. =)

xoxo, the Mamma. Continue reading “The Boob Juice Debate”

What is happening?

The bombings yesterday at the Boston Marathon literally make me sick to my stomach. What is wrong with people? I feel nauseous for the families and the victims. My heart breaks for them.

How are we supposed to raise our children in a society like this? My daughter is almost 8 and the thought of that poor family that lost their 8-year-old son brings me to tears. I cannot imagine the tremendous loss they are feeling and how such a joyous day, in the blink of an eye, so many lives were ruined…not just those who were there, but their families, friends, and the rest of us.

Alyx had heard a snippet and asked me about it on our way home last night. I am trying my hardest to protect her innocence and let her be a kid. Unfortunately she hears way too much and is told way too much (in my opinion). In our household, we cherish her and try to get her to focus on being a kid and having a fun….leave the grown-up stuff to the grown-ups. I told her that there are mean people in this world that sometimes do awful things. She seemed content with that and went back to playing her game and babbling with her brother. Continue reading “What is happening?”

Teething.

Holy hell.

I am SO thankful that our little ones do not remember the pain and frustration (on both parts) that comes with teething. Mr. Man has his two lower teeth, but we are currently working on one of his front top teeth. It is swollen. It is purplish-reddish. It is ALMOST there…pointy and looking downright uncomfortable and painful.

Damn teeth. Continue reading “Teething.”

I broke myself.

I don’t know what I did…but I have managed to hurt my back. So bad that I can’t stand up straight or carry/lift J. Not good.

I know, I know….go to the doctor. But in my opinion, what are they going to tell me? Combo of heat/ice, ibuprofen and rest. Ok, thanks. Got it, check.

Normally this would just be a minor inconvenience. I’m fine if I’m sitting…but does J like to site with Mama? NO. Does J sit with Daddy? Yup! No problem! J can handle sitting with me for about 0.02 seconds before he wants to get up, walk around, see the world and discover new things. For the non-broken me…sure, Iet’s walk for ages. But now poor Mr. Man has to settle for Daddy walking with him and if he can see me, it just results in an angry baby.

Hopefully this clears up sooner rather than later. Luckily the weekend is coming up so (maybe) I can get some rest.

This is how I feel:

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My back feels like J weighs the same as a college student. Fact.

Any tips/tricks I can try to heal my back AND still have quality time with the little man?

The thing that most working moms don’t admit to out loud…

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Who can resist that face?

I’m about to admit to something that us “sick and twisted” working moms will probably agree with.

Although I have not had a full-night’s sleep in 9-months, I actually like (dare I say love) getting up with Mr. Man in the night. Crazy, right?

Let me explain….

I work full-time; 8 – 4:30 every day. Monday through Friday. Day In. Day Out.

What this means for my wee one: he gets “mommy time” in the morning and before he goes to bed. During the day…as he’s growing and learning, someone else gets to experience that.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very thankful and fortunate to have a job. But there is a part of me that feels guilty about working. I sometimes get jealous of SAHMs out there that get to be with their kiddos all day. I’m sure they sometimes feel the opposite of just wanting to get out of the house. Grass isn’t always greener, I get that.

And Mr. Man…he’s a momma’s boy. I love that he loves me so much and gets SO excited to see me…even if I have just left the room for a minute. Continue reading “The thing that most working moms don’t admit to out loud…”