Daddy: The New Baby Addict

Although my husband loves me unconditionally, I’m fairly confident that he would eagerly admit to you that one of my faults is that I simply can not be on time to anyplace that requires me to get out of bed.

I love to sleep. I love to sleep so much that I dream about napping. I love to sleep so much that I slept during labor when my contractions were only 45 seconds apart, and I didn’t even have an epidural!

Naturally, any person that loves to sleep as much as I do would be severely disturbed to hear the harsh buzz of an alarm clock. You can imagine how pleasant I am NOT in the morning.

Despite these faults, I really, really, really do try to get to work on time. I wasn’t very good at this before I was a Mom, so you can also imagine how much more challenging this is when you add an additional body to feed and dress, and let’s throw in a stop at the daycare center on the way to work, too.

Since I work for a very nice lady that doesn’t have any children, dedicates her entire life to work, and shows up at the office before anyone else gets there, you can imagine how understanding she is NOT when I am late more often than I am prompt. Sorry, I know your imagination is getting a little tired at this point, but I needed to paint this picture for you. It’s very important to the moral of my story.

This morning, I had great intentions to get up as soon as my alarm clock went off the FIRST time. Well, I hit the snooze. In my defense, Baby woke up shortly after that first alarm, so technically I did get out of bed to nurse Baby at the time I should have been getting out of bed. The only problem is that I should have been in the shower…

No problem, just wash a little faster, dress like a cyclone, spray a cloud of hairspray at my head while digging through my closet floor for matching shoes, and VOILA! Mommy is ready for work!

Baby is a piece of cake because we have his morning routine down to a science. Peel off the pajamas, change the diaper, dress, wash the face, brush the teeth, brush the hair, and VOILA! Baby is ready! (Note: this works much better if you sing the details of every step because Baby mistakenly thinks it is dance time instead of get-ready-for-daycare time, so he is much more cooperative).

Now, Mommy and Baby are ready to leave.

Is Daddy ready?

Just a minute. Daddy needs a morning cuddle from Baby.

Just a minute. Daddy needs a nibble of Baby’s neck.

Just a minute. Daddy needs to tickle Baby’s belly.

Just a minute. Daddy needs to scratch Baby with his beard.

Surprisingly, I was late for work this morning.

I could blame Daddy. I could rant and rave about how I try so hard to be on time for work. I could rant and rave about how I just need a little cooperation from everyone to make this working mom gig work. I could rant and rave on and on and on.

But I won’t.

Because at the end of the day, my husband is a blessing in my life and an answer to my prayers. I always dreamed that my children would have a father that would stop the whole world just to love them. And my husband does.

We’re a match made in heaven because he is a baby addict, too.

Hello, God. It’s Baby.

For this week’s edition of Works For Me Wednesday, sponsored by Rocks in My Dryer, I’d like to share some advice on teaching your baby to pray.

We’re a family that prays before every meal, so we never thought twice about including Baby. We all hold hands and say a common table prayer before we eat, and we thought it would be great fun to hold Baby’s hands, too. It was fun, at least it was until Baby learned to shake his head NO, NO, NO.

Imagine the following mealtime scene:

Mommy and Daddy hold hands with Baby and with each other.

Mommy & Daddy: “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest…”

Baby: shakes head NO, NO, NO

Mommy & Daddy: “…and let these gifts to us be blessed.”

Baby: shakes head NO, NO, NO

Mommy & Daddy: “Amen.”

We were starting to wonder if our heathen Baby needed to be baptized again. Thankfully, our Pastor’s wife (a.k.a. Baby’s Sunday School teacher) offered us some great advice that has worked for us.

When we pray, we hold hands and we all clap when we say Amen.

It took Baby about a week to figure out that we would be clapping at the end of our prayer. He loves it!

Note: we use this with Baby’s bedtime prayer, too, but the clapping makes him angry because he knows the next step in his bedtime routine is laying down in his crib. That Baby is a smart little devil!

This is a great way to teach young babies to praise God.

It’s What Works For Me!

Frostbite

Baby had a bad day yesterday. Mommy and Daddy were cleaning up the kitchen after dinner and they weren’t paying attention to him at all. Yes, they are very rude and inconsiderate, but Baby sure told them a thing or two.

After listening to 15 minutes of incessant whining, Mommy and Daddy decided to bundle up Baby and take him outside to take out the garbage. They had desperate hopes that a change of scenery would distract him.

Mommy laid Baby on the kitchen table to restrain him in his snowsuit. As expected, Baby tried to grab the silk flowers in the lead crystal vase on the table. Instead of grabbing a flower, as usual, Baby had the good fortune of grabbing the vase. Silk flowers and shiny glass beads scattered throughout the room. How exciting!

As the weary family finally trudged out the door, Baby instantly calmed. He looked at the snow. He looked at the streetlights. He looked at the stars. He watched cars driving by on the street. He watched Mommy and Daddy drag garbage cans from the garage to the curb. How exciting!

Baby watched intently as Daddy scooped snow into his hands. He held up the snow for Baby to feel. Baby screeched in terror and buried his face in Mommy’s shoulder. When he heard Mommy and Daddy laughing at him, Baby peeked out. He watched Daddy taste the snow. He watched Mommy taste the snow. Daddy offered the snow to Baby again.

Baby took a bite. A big, greedy bite.

OUCH!!!!! That’s cold.

Baby was right.

Snow is scary.

Taking Care Of Business

I have an appointment with a financial advisor today to finalize my application for term life insurance. Exciting, I know, but it’s one of those tasks on my to-do list that I keep avoiding.

No one wants to think about death, and especially their own. For parents, the thought of your tender young baby growing up without you is a gruesome nightmare. Despite this, I strive to be the best mother that I can possibly be and that includes planning for Baby’s future whether I am a part of it or not.

I have been known to procrastinate and I’ve never been in a hurry to add yet another bill to the monthly household budget. I’m out of excuses now that my very last credit card bill will be paid off this month. Hurray! That will provide a little extra money for the second mortgage, the retirement funds, and a new life insurance policy for Mommy.

I hope it’s a waste of money…

If not, thank God that I am able to help provide for my family’s basic needs.

High Tech Gadget of The Day

How to stop Baby from sucking his thumb in his sleep

Terrible Ten Months

Last night, I picked Baby up from daycare on my way home from work. When we got home, we turned on Dr. Phil and cuddled up on the couch for our End-Of-The-Workday nursing session.

Within minutes, Baby was screaming his little head off. He wiggled and squirmed and howled. Frantic, I searched Baby’s body for any clues of the source of his pain. He screamed louder.

After several minutes of screaming and frantic searching, I realized that Baby was looking at the end table next to the couch. Did he want something from the table? The lamp? The remote control? The phone? Oh, wait…his remote control car that he got from Opa for Christmas. Daddy keeps it on the table so we remember to turn the car off after Baby plays with it so the batteries don’t die prematurely.

I picked up the toy car and the screaming abruptly stopped.

Isn’t ten months old a little young for the tantrums to start?

Forget terrible twos. This is the terrible ten months.

Yikes!

Thumb Addict

Baby is a thumb-sucking addict. He has always been a thumb-sucker, even before he was born.

I am not an Anti-Thumb Mommy. I don’t begrudge Baby his habit and sometimes I am even grateful for it. Baby has never wanted or needed a pacifier. As a newborn, he did have a serious boobie addiction, but the thumb helped him to recover and Mommy eventually found time to shower again. Someday, he might even give up the middle-of-the-night Milk Fest and spend some quality time with his thumb instead. We can only hope.

So imagine my despair when my laissez-faire parenting resulted in the painful mutilation of Baby’s thumb. His thumb on his right hand is red, chapped, peeling, cracked and bleeding. Baby wakes up every morning with blood crusted around his thumb nail. I would have taken a picture of it, but it is just too gruesome to look at and I don’t really want to document the results of my neglectful parenting, just in case Children’s Services is watching.

During our recent visit to the pediatrician for the Ear Infection That Would Not End, the good doc noticed our predicament and advised lubing Baby up with Vaseline. It sounded like a good idea at the time.

We began treatment by slathering Baby’s thumb with A&D Ointment at night as he drifted off to sleep and covered his hand with a mitten to protect his crib sheets. Without fail, Baby woke up within a half hour. One by one, the mittens began to disappear because he disposed of them immediately upon waking and finding his thumb out of commission. We have used all of our mittens and I am clueless as to where Baby hid them.

Since the mittens are gone and the thumb is looking worse, we started using the A&D Ointment without the mittens. I resigned myself to the fact that Baby would probably rub it in his hair for the hillbilly-baby-that-never-bathes-look that is so trendy with little boys right now. I was wrong. He didn’t put the ointment in his hair. HE PUT IT IN HIS MOUTH. Gross.

One of his daycare teachers recommended liquid BandAid, but the doc said it wasn’t a very good idea. If the kid is willing to eat A&D to get to his thumb, there is no telling what he won’t eat if given the opportunity. She recommends wrapping the thumb with gauze and medical tape.

Oh, Boy. That sounds like fun!

Please share your advice for dry-cracked-chapped-skin repair. We are desperate!

How To Speak Boy

For this week’s edition of Works For Me Wednesday, sponsored by Rocks in My Dryer, I’d like to share some important terminology that should be known by all Mothers of boys.

As a new mother of a boy, and never having been a boy myself, I found myself lacking in this department. Luckily for me, my Dear Hubby has been educating me so I should be able to communicate with our son by the time he can speak.

Here are just a few important terms you should know:

Grenades

Armored Personnel Carrier

Bomb Bunker

Ghost Turds

Cooties Breakfast Hero

I’m sure I have a lot more to learn, but for now, That’s What Works For Me!

Conscience

Conscience is the inner voice that warns us somebody may be looking.

~H.L. Mencken

Stairway to Heaven

I’m one of those crazy fools that gets excited over every tiny milestone. Imagine my sheer delight following this scene:

We were at church yesterday morning and it was my turn to take Baby to the front of the church for the Children’s Message. As we sat on the steps leading to the altar, Mommy was intently listening to the kids’ object lesson and Baby was arching his back and flailing his little arms in an effort to free himself from Mommy’s iron grasp.

I finally relented and let him crawl on the carpet.

Baby immediately began to climb the stairs.

Since this was the first time in his short life that he ever climbed stairs, I was ecstatic. I completely forgot about paying attention to the object lesson and spent the next five minutes taking Baby off the top step and putting him back on the floor, thrilled at the sight of him climbing the stairs with speed and ease. I even bragged to a Mom friend that he just reached this milestone. This wise mom of two-year old twins simply smiled at my ignorance.

Since Daddy was sitting in the pew, he wasn’t able to see this monumental achievement. Immediately after the service, I dragged Daddy and Baby to the front of the church so he could see this miracle with his own two eyes.

Daddy: You know this is a horrible idea. Why are you encouraging him?

Mommy: What do you mean? This is safe! These stairs are low and wide and carpeted. He won’t get hurt.

Daddy: What are you going to do when he starts climbing the stairs at home?

Mommy: Oh, he won’t do that for awhile! The stairs at home are tall and steep and hardwood. Besides, why would he be interested in climbing those stairs?

Daddy: You’re creating a monster.

Mommy: Stop overreacting.

Imagine my sheer horror following this scene:

I went to a baby shower for a friend on Sunday after church and Daddy stayed home with Baby. When I returned home, Daddy told me about Baby’s near death experience.

As Daddy was fishing a ball out from under the sofa, Baby decided to climb the stairs. Daddy had turned his back for 30 seconds. He lifted his head to find Baby on the FOURTH step, standing, and tottering backwards.

Thank God for watching over Baby and protecting him from himself. Daddy was able to rescue Baby before he fell.

Baby also started walking with his push walker this weekend.

Good Lord, help us.

Can You Hear Me Now?

We took Baby to the pediatrician yesterday afternoon for a follow-up on his recent ear infection. As the receptionist took my Visa Card for the visit co-pay, I quickly tallied the expenses for this ear infection:

$15 co-pay for sick visit on Christmas Eve

$8 co-pay for prescription Amoxicillin

$7.19 for Debrox eardrops to soften earwax
(Baby is a wax factory, has narrow ear canals, and hates the ear flashlight)

$1.59 for Johnson’s Safety Cotton Swabs to collect softened earwax without poking a hole in Baby’s eardrum

$20 co-pay for follow-up doctor visit on January 4 (insurance company raised the co-pay for 2008. Thanks)

$29.57 for vacation time from work for Mommy to drive Baby to doctor

$8 co-pay for prescription Omnicef

$20 co-pay for follow-up doctor visit on January 17

$29.57 for vacation time from work for Mommy to drive Baby to doctor

$36.78 for vacation time from work for Daddy to go with Mommy and Baby to doctor so he could hold Baby down while doctor used the stethoscope (not kidding)

Total Expenses for Ear Infection: $175.70

For as much as we’ve invested in Baby’s ears, the least he could do is use them. For instance, when Mommy says, “Baby, NO. Please don’t climb the fire extinguisher in the kitchen. Baby get boo boo.” Baby COULD acknowledge Mommy and STOP climbing the fire extinguisher.

Is that too much to ask?

Since Baby won’t be reimbursing us for his care or using the ears that we paid darn good money for, I plan to be a very difficult old person.

P.S. Baby's ears are all better.

On My Mind, Vol. 2

Now that we’ve been writing tuition checks for daycare for the past eight months, I’ve found that parting with that cash isn’t as painful as it used to be. I’ve stopped thinking of it as the equivalent of a mortgage payment and started thinking of it as just another bill that needs to be paid. In all fairness, I also stopped paying tuition a month in advance because that check was just too huge to hand over.

Evidently, we’re not the only family suffering from sticker shock. It’s getting harder and harder for most families to maintain a middle-class lifestyle in America. So much has changed since we were kids, I wonder what economic challenges our own children will face when they raise their families?

Speaking of middle-class lifestyles, I’m sure we could save tons of money each year on mortgage payments if we did this.

On second thought, I don’t feel I am too demanding with my expectations to live in a house. My husband likes living in a house, too. It’s important in a marriage to consider the needs and desires of both partners. Maybe someone should remind this bride that she’s not her own soulmate.

Even if you’re not narcissistic and selfish, every marriage requires maintenance. Get a weekly tune-up here.

That’s what’s On My Mind!

Rocks, Paper, Scissors: A Better Way To Vote

It is officially 2008, so we will be bombarded with Presidential Campaign News for the next eleven months.

If you’re like me, I prefer to remain oblivious to the campaign updates and scandals until October, when I feel an obligation to pick a team and start cheering. For this edition of Works for Me Wednesday, sponsored by Rocks In My Dryer, I’d like to share a better way to vote.

Ordinarily, my strategy is to pick the least scandalous candidate and vote for that person based on the campaign commercials that appeal to me. Although this may appear to be a very scientific and logical process, I’m sure you can easily see that it is flawed.

Instead of choosing a candidate, this year I prioritized the issues that are important to me and identified the candidate that shares my values using this website. I simply answered a few questions and this website told me which candidate thinks the same way I do.

Check it out for yourself.

Be warned: If you are matched to Mike Huckabee, you might as well vote for someone else. He was my closest match, but every presidential candidate I’ve ever voted for has lost the election. Sorry, Mike.

After you find your perfect match for the 2008 presidential election, stop by Rocks in My Dryer for more solutions to life’s little problems.

Strike A Pose

In appropriate baby-addict fashion, I am obsessed with taking pictures of Baby. I’m convinced that if I don’t take at least a hundred pictures of Baby each month, there will come a time when I forget what he looked like when he was Mama’s Little Love. The mere thought of that scenario is absolutely terrifying, so Baby is often subjected to the harsh light of the flash on my Sony Cybershot digital camera.

In the beginning, Baby was oblivious. Since he was still trying to figure out the difference between night and day, the intermittent bursts of light from the camera flash didn’t alarm him.



Over time, Baby discovered that he was able to smile and Mommy loves smiles.



As Baby grew older, he could sit all by himself, which made for beautifully posed photographs.



Now, Baby has a mind of his own and is determined not to let Mommy have any memorable photos of winter 2008.

Delurk Now!

Rumor has it that today is National DeLurk Day.

I can’t confirm that because it’s not on any of the 2008 calendars that I have, but since you must believe everything you read on the internet, today is the day you leave a comment for the Baby Addict.

Say something,

anything,

just one tiny little word

because the curiosity is killing me!

Baby Germs

When I picked Baby up at daycare yesterday afternoon, I found him in his highchair feeding himself diced green grapes. I walked over to him, put my face down close to his tray, pointed to a grape, looked him in the eye, and asked, “Give one to Mama?”

He giggled with delight, grabbed a grape in his chubby little fist, and plopped it into my open mouth. Mommy clapped and cheered, and Baby was thrilled.

He hurried to grab more grapes and plop them into my mouth. As expected, Mommy clapped and Baby was thrilled again. He is a praise addict.

The daycare teacher gasped.

Teacher: "You are a much better mother than I am. I could never let my kids feed me."

Mommy: (feeling instantly guilty and ashamed for some apparent error in judgement)

Mommy: "Why?"

Teacher: "Are you kidding me?!? Their hands are all slobbery and full of germs!"

Mommy: "Oh, I don’t care about that."

What Mommy was really thinking:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!!!!?

This child pooped on my leg in the moment that he was born, has barfed all over me, has peed on me, has wiped his snotty nose on my shirt, gives me open-mouthed kisses, and I should be worried about the spittle on his fingers when he feeds me a grape?????

I think we missed the really important point that my 10 month old son is willing to share. Not only is he willing to share, but he is willing to share food. I know this is a temporary condition because I’ve heard that toddlers won’t share anything. I will beam in pride at his willingness to share with his Mommy and to hell with the germs.

This makes me wonder how this certain teacher is able to cope with his daily poopy-diaper explosions? Is this teacher a germ-o-phobe or am I too easy-going?

P.S. Daddy would laugh his butt off at the thought of Mommy being easy-going, but that’s another post for another day…

Beautiful Baby Bumps

I was waiting in line at CVS the other day (I know, just days ago I vowed to boycott CVS, but I was on my 30-minute lunch break, it was the closest store to work, and I just absolutely had to find a new sippy cup to make Baby drink something, anything at all at daycare so I broke my promise not to shop there).

What was my original thought? Oh, yeah. I was waiting in line at CVS and saw this magazine on the rack featuring Christina Aguilera in all her pregnant glory. I really could care less about most celebrities, but I am a huge fan of baby bumps and this picture just reminded me of how much I miss my own.

I always wanted to be a tummy-baring pregnant lady, but it just didn’t seem appropriate given my circle of conservative friends, acquaintances, neighbors and co-workers. Even though I didn’t become an exhibitionist while pregnant, I was quite comfortable chilling in a sports bra and yoga pants at home with my baby bump on display. I also took pictures of my baby belly every couple of weeks to chronicle the journey.

I’m not sure if I miss my baby bump because it was so darn cute or because the aftermath is so darn scary.

Sleeping Beauty

Shannon at Rocks In My Dryer must have been reading my exhausted mind when she designated this as a Backwards Works for Me Wednesday, because I am in dire need of child-rearing advice.

Baby is 10 months old and does not sleep through the night. He has been breastfeeding since birth and is a little boobie-addict. He has been in full-time daycare since he was two months old and he hates bottles. Mommy pumps religiously, but he has never consumed more than 9 ounces of breastmilk in an entire day. Now that he has expanded his diet to include baby food and finger foods, he routinely drinks only 4-6 ounces of breastmilk a day at daycare. He will only drink 2 ounces of milk at a time and he fights those 2 ounces with all his might. He takes 2 or 3 sucks and smacks the bottle away. It takes about 20 to 30 minutes for this kid to drink 2 ounces of milk. Thank God his caregivers love him and have the patience to feed him.

Since he loathes the bottle and refuses to drink breastmilk from a sippy cup, he tries to make up for lost time in the evenings. He nurses with Mommy every two hours until bedtime, twice in the middle of the night, and once in the morning before daycare.

Mommy is exhausted!

Over the holidays, we tried to wean Baby off the middle-of-the-night Milk Fest because we were on vacation from work and had ample opportunity to nap during the day. Our plan was for Daddy to wake up with Baby and offer a bottle of water only. If Baby insisted that he was hungry, Daddy would offer a bottle of formula. Under no circumstances would Mommy make an appearance.

We tried this strategy for several nights and found that our Baby has the endurance of an Olympic athlete. He did not cry or fuss. He did not drink the water bottle. He did not drink the formula bottle. He simply laid in Daddy’s arms in the rocking chair, wide awake, waiting for Mommy to finish whatever it was that she was doing that was keeping her away from him. He waited patiently for HOURS.

Needless to say, Baby outlasted us and we are back to our old night-time routine.

PLEASE share any suggestions you have for helping baby sleep through the night.

P.S. don’t even suggest the Cry It Out Method. We’ve been there, done that, and decided it didn’t fit our parenting style.

CVS Pharmacy Boycott

It’s official. We are ex-CVS Pharmacy customers.

For years, we have been loyal CVS customers, despite the long lines and incompetent, rude pharmacy staff. I have diligently stored Extra Care Bucks on my savings card and filled every prescription at CVS for the last eight years, but I’ve finally reached the end of my rope.

Last week, Baby went back to the pediatrician for a follow-up on his recent ear infection. The doc decided that we haven’t conquered the infection yet, so she prescribed Omnicef. The pediatrician’s secretary called the Rx in to the pharmacy before we left the office, so I decided to pick it up on the way home.

Ordinarily, I run in to the store because it’s faster, but Baby was sleeping so we went to the Drive Thru window.


There was one car ahead of us in line, so of course there was a 10 minute wait. When I pulled up to the window, I told the pharmacy assistant what I needed and she disappeared. I wasn’t certain that she understood me very well because her English seemed a little rusty, but I had no choice but to give her a chance. About 5 minutes later, she reappeared and told me that the computer system was down so they weren’t able to fill any prescriptions. She asked me to return in 45 minutes. I groaned, but there wasn’t really a choice to be made. I took Baby home to continue his nap in the comfort of his crib.

Daddy came home from work, we ate dinner, and Daddy decided to go to CVS to get the Rx because he needed to go to the bank ATM anyway. When he arrived at the store, the pharmacy assistant told him that the doctor’s office never called in the prescription. She suggested that we call the pediatrician’s office. Daddy had the great fortune of talking to the same pharmacy assistant with limited English-speaking ability that evidently didn’t know that doctors’ offices aren’t usually open at 8:00pm on a Friday night in the United States.

Daddy came home without the prescription and was seriously upset. Mommy got on the phone and called the manager at CVS, who was trembling at the sound of Mommy’s pissed off ranting. After 15 minutes of searching while listening to Mommy curse into the phone, the manager miraculously found the prescription. He politely informed Mommy that the prescription would be ready in one hour. Mommy politely informed him that the prescription would be ready in 15 minutes or Mommy would drive to the store herself to meet the manager in person. The manager decided to get the prescription ready right away.

After Daddy picked up the prescription, Mommy and Daddy began to wonder if the prescription really had been found or if the manager filled a prescription based on the information Mommy gave because he was afraid of this apparently-rabid customer. Mommy and Daddy imagined Baby overdosing on antibiotics and decided to call Walgreen’s to confirm the dosage.

The pharmacist at Walgreens was polite, helpful and knowledgeable. We have found our new prescription home.
If you don’t think this experience is all that bad, ask me to tell you about the time CVS filled my prescription for birth control pills and forgot to put the PILLS in the bag…

(No, that is not how Baby was conceived…)

Land's End Diaper Bag Giveaway

I simply adored our pastel Classic Winnie the Pooh diaper bag before baby was born...and then I realized that Mommy and Daddy would be wearing this darling bag. It sure would be nice to have something a little more mature...

I'd love to win a new Land's End diaper bag. You can enter the contest, too, by visiting the Flip Flop Mama Blog.

Too Good To Be True

We successfully made it through the holiday season without one broken ornament on our tree.

Considering that this was Baby’s first Christmas, that he can crawl, and that the Christmas Tree was a sparkling haven of forbidden exploration, this is no small feat.

Since our living room has been conquered by Toy Mountain, you would think that Baby would be too busy playing with his toys to notice the fluffy red felt of the tree skirt, or the glittering gold bead garland, or the sparkling white lights, or the dainty crystal icicles, or the fragile ornaments, or the stray pine needles scattered on the carpet.

In reality, we have been removing fluffy red felt from the tree skirt and stray pine needles from Baby’s mouth on a daily basis. He hasn’t been aggressive about tampering with the tree, but every so often his tiny hand will reach up toward an ornament, just to test whether or not Mommy and Daddy are really paying attention.

Since we’ve been fighting this battle for about six weeks, we are mighty proud to say that none of the tree ornaments were broken this season.

Until this weekend.



The funniest part of the story is that Baby wasn’t even playing with the Christmas tree. He was minding his own business, playing with his Leap Frog Learning Playground. Our future MLB star threw one of the balls from the playground and it bounced off a glass ornament, sending glass fragments throughout the room.

It’s time to put the decorations away.

On My Mind, Vol. 1

If you’re curious to know what is rattling around in my Mommy Brain right now, here it is:

We are still in teething hell right now, with no end in sight. One small comfort we can’t live without is the Razberry Teether by Razbaby and you can get your very own right here.

Baby is 10 months old this Saturday, so it’s time for me to start obsessing about where to send him to Kindergarten. In my defense, we know that the schools in our neighborhood are not the best, so we will probably move before he starts school. If you’re as anal as I am or just curious about how your school district compares to others around the country, check this out.

We’ve all heard stories of young kids saving their parents’ lives by dialing 911 or pressing the OnStar button after a crash, but this kid is amazing. As Yoda would say, “Brave son, he is.”

My only other thought is Thank God It's Friday.

13 Resolutions

In 2008, I will...

Listen

Empathize

Learn

Thank

Shrink

Exercise

Clean

Persist

Finish

Share

Speak

Write

Love


I will take the time to listen with the intent to truly understand what people are sharing with me. I will take a moment to consider how other people are feeling and try to see the world with their eyes. In this way, I will learn more about the people that I love and hate. I will thank the people that support me despite my tendency to take their efforts for granted.

I will shrink as I leave my pregnancy weight in my past. I will exercise for my physical and mental health. I will clean and organize my house. I will stop procrastinating and finish each chore or project that I start.

I will share what is on my mind and in my heart. I won’t keep my feelings inside until I’m too angry to fix my problems.

I will write to those that are in my heart but far away from me.

I will love as much as I can love without reservation or hesitation and I’ll proclaim it as often as I can.

In 2008, I will be the woman that I can and should be. I’ll be the wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend that I have the potential to be.
Thank you, God, for another year and another opportunity.