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Tag Archives: Motherhood

Is it just me, or is everyone having babies all of a sudden? I think there are at least five ladies I know that are expecting, and a handful recently welcomed little bundles. Where are all of these babies coming from?

Wait…never mind. I know where they come from.

Of course, whenever I talk to my expecting friends, the conversation ends up focusing on being healthy. I can remember being extremely conscious of my health during my pregnancy, and I know a lot of women feel the same way. Check out the nine tips I discovered that got me through that wild nine months** (including a couple to combat the dreaded morning sickness), and let me know what your tips are in the comments!

  1. Eat! Look, right now is not the time to count calories and go crazy avoiding carbs. Now is the time to eat! Your baby needs a lot of nutrients, so make sure your diet is full of fruits, veggies, and lean meats. Your doctor will discuss any foods you need to avoid (like raw fish).  As much as possible, stay away from a lot of junk food and sugary snacks. Otherwise? Go ahead and fill that plate…
  2. But don’t go hog wild. …But, you just said to eat! I know, but here’s the thing…You still have to be sensible about what, and how much of it, you’re putting in your body. Your doctor will talk to you about a reasonable amount of weight gain, and trying to stay close to that limit will help you continue to feel great through your pregnancy. Gaining too much weight can cause a number of issues that range from mild discomfort to dangerous for you and baby.
  3. Take that vitamin without feeling queasy. Prenatal vitamins are a must, but sometimes they can be a little hard to swallow (literally… have you seen those horse pills?!). Taking them on an empty stomach is a sure way to make you feel a little barfy, and I found that if I took mine mid-meal I could avoid that. Even if you can just eat a couple of crackers before and after taking your vitamin, it will help***.
  4. Combat that morning sickness with food! Try this tried-and-true from a friend of mine: Before going to bed, put an (unopened) bottle of water and a granola bar on your night stand. Before you even get out of bed in the morning, eat the granola bar and wash it down with some of the water. My friend did this every morning and swore it kept her morning sickness at bay. Keep snacks in your purse, and if you get that hungry/sickie feeling during the day you can get a little something in your stomach to settle it.
  5. Cherry Coke to the rescue? Ok, I know I just said to avoid sugary stuff but… This is a trick a nurse told me about. Whenever they have someone that’s got some pretty nasty nausea, they have the patient sip Cherry Coke. Something about the cherry syrup seems to calm the stomach. I’m not saying you should be chugging it by the gallon, but if a snack isn’t helping to calm the beast you might give it a shot.
  6. Breathe deep to avoid barfing. There are a lot of natural ways to calm the morning sickness monster, and a friend of mine sword by this one: Take a long, even, slow breath in through the nose. Release it slowly through pursed lips. Continue until you feel better. Sure, you might look silly stopping a conversation to do this, but I think you’d be more embarrassed if you barfed on your boss’s shoes!
  7. Exercise You don’t have to be as hardcore as the CrossFit mom, but a little physical activity every day will go a long way toward keeping you feeling great. Talk to your doctor first, but consider water aerobics. The water in the pool will support your belly, and your back might get a little relief!
  8. Don’t read all of those pregnancy books A friend of mine let me borrow a couple of hers when I first found out I was pregnant, and I think I got to chapter two before I had to put it down. It was terrifying! It was like going to a family reunion and listening to all of your female relatives drone on and on about their horror stories. Look, it may not be a bad idea to have one around for reference, but don’t sit down and read it cover to cover. You’ll only stress yourself out with all of the what-ifs you’re reading about.
  9. Find a doctor you trust I adored my OBGYN so much that now I actually look forward to my yearly poke-n-prods. She and I developed a wonderful relationship, and I trusted her completely. She was able to quiet my fears and I always felt like she was really listening to me. If you have a doctor you don’t feel comfortable with, go somewhere else. The rapport between you and your doc can set the tone for your entire pregnancy, and it’s a stressful enough time as it is. Do you really need to add not liking your doctor?

So there you have it, my favorite tips for a happy, healthy pregnancy. Do you have any tips to share? How did you fight the morning sickness monster?

** I may have been on The Doctors, but i am not one. Please get your doctor’s ok before doing anything!

** Please be cautious when taking any type of pill when you’re pregnant. There are some potential dangers out there that could put your baby at risk. Zofran, for example, is an anti-nausea medication that has been reported to cause birth defects. Please consult your doctor and do your research first!
Click here for more information.

I’ll never forget how it felt to hear “OH, you took the easy way out!” during the first few weeks of my son’s life. He was born right smack in the beginning of the holidays (like, the week before Thanksgiving that year), and we were dealing with feeding issues. The swelling in my feet and ankles just refused to go down, I was exhausted (duh) AND recovering from a major surgery, and here we were dragging our brand-new, teeny-tiny little baby to family gatherings during cold and flu season.

In other words, the last thing I wanted to hear was that I “took the easy way out”. Not only was it said, but it was generally accompanied by a pat on the knee and a somewhat condescending wink. Sometimes that would be followed by a knowing glance the person would share with another woman.

I got to hear all kinds of stories from the women who were ‘real’ warriors. 30 hours of labor this, episiotomy that, blah, blah, blah… And of course the complaining was always capped off with a quick, “but it was all worth it” at the end. Uh, ok.

“I wish”, one woman said, “that I could have just relaxed on a table while a surgeon did all of the work!” She then laughed at her own joke. As if I had gone to some all-inclusive resort and sipped a (virgin!) daquri and had a pedicure during my c-section. Yeah, that’s how it went.

Here’s the thing. I know a lot of people think that c-sections happen purely by a ‘selfish’ choice made by the mom. That generally isn’t how it goes, though. A lot of women face c-sections for a number of reasons…Reasons, I might add, that are no one else’s business.

I actually did not have a choice. When it was confirmed that O was breech and couldn’t turn around (he was sharing a small space with a rather large tumor, after all) my doctor immediately scheduled the surgery. When I asked if there was anything else we could do, she explained how dangerous it would be to attempt to go the natural route and that she wasn’t really willing to do it. Not only was my life at risk, so was O’s. I even asked her to turn him, which she said would be ridiculously painful for me and likely totally ineffective.

Thanks to hormones and a lot of misconceptions, I felt like an absolute failure. I was so embarrassed to tell people outside of my family, and I was always quick to justify it by saying, “but I have no choice in the matter”.


The morning of my c-section, I felt strangely calm. It was incredibly early, and the 30 minute drive to the hospital was a piece of cake…No traffic, no rushing, just the BF and I chatting calmly.

They did one last ultrasound to see if he had managed to flip… I silently prayed that he had, and asked if they would be willing to induce me if that were the case. The nurse said that might be an option, but then promptly confirmed that he was still breech. So much for a last-minute miracle.

The BF had to wait while they prepped me and got the epidural going. I don’t really remember the epidural being too terrible, but I do know that I was terrified I would move and paralyze myself. After all, that needle was pretty huge and it was going right into my spine. I was also perched rather precariously on the edge of the operating table and shivering because damn it was cold in that room. Also, probably from what ever they had in my IV. At any rate, the very first epidural attempt was successful and it took no time to work. In fact, they were instructing me to move my legs and I finally had to laugh and let them know I couldn’t, could they please help me?

Once I was situated on the table, a green curtain was erected to block my view of the lower half of my body. I remember my doctor asking if I felt something, and when I replied “What?”, she smiled and said I was ready to go. Apparently, she had pinched the inside of my thigh as hard as she could to make sure I was numb. Even though I felt nothing, I asked if she thought she should try again…She just smiled and told me everything was fine.

“Well, you’re not the one about to be cut open, you know?”

She laughed and made a big show of pinching me again, just to humor me. I was still nervous, but I hadn’t even felt her move my leg. I couldn’t stall any more.

The BF finally got to come in, all suited up, and sat on a stool next to my head. He and I stared at the green curtain while the final prep work was being done, and finally Dr. Stephenson let us know they were getting started. The BF and the anesthesiologist talked about hunting, and they passed the anesthesiologist’s phone to each other over my head to look at pictures of an elk he shot on some trip. It was all very surreal, and then I noticed smoke wafting up from behind the green curtain.

Oh yes, they cauterize your incision as they cut.

I felt absolutely nothing, and I was surprisingly calm. I thought, “this might really be a piece of cake”. There was a lot of chatting, mostly the BF because he can be a bit of a nervous talker. Then, the six-foot-tall, 185-ish pound doctor that was assisting said, “Ok, you aren’t going to like me much after this part.”

Then he leaned on the left side of my stomach with what had to have been his entire body weight. I’ll admit, I did panic a bit when I suddenly couldn’t breathe and thought  he was going to break my ribs. I made this ridiculous “OOF” sound as every bit of oxygen I had in my body was forced out, and then I realized that he was grunting a bit as well from all of the force he was putting into it. You see, a baby is definitely bigger than the incision they make, and it’s not like they come out easily. No, there’s a lot of pulling from the operating doctor and a TON of pushing from the assisting doctor. That part sucked and I hated every second of it. My whole body was rocking from the force he was using, and I swore I was about to fall off of the table. There is actually nothing especially gentle about a c-section, and the “piece of cake” thoughts I was having ended rather abruptly the second they started actually working on getting O out.

Obviously, I didn’t fall off of the table, and obviously, this was how they had to do it. I knew that, but I still didn’t like it.

Once they got him out, they brought him over so I could see him, then he was taken to be cleaned up and weighed. BF got to go over and watch, and on the way back to his seat I saw his eyes get wide. He told me later that when he turned around, he saw my guts all sitting on my stomach just waiting to be put back in my body. And blood. Like, a lot of blood.

Yeah, another fun thing. They have to pull your ab muscles apart like curtains and remove the organs that are in front of your uterus to get the baby out. Easy way out my ass.

So I did cry a little tear, but then I started to feel very weird. Everything sounded like it was in a tunnel, my vision was starting to blur, and I felt a bit nauseated. I tried a couple of times to tell someone before I finally managed to get the words out…If you’ve ever had one of those dreams when you’re trying to scream and just can’t, that’s exactly how I felt. The anesthesiologist said that was totally normal, pushed something into my IV, and within seconds I was fine again.

I don’t remember a lot about being wheeled back to my room, or holding my boy for the first time. We had to wait an hour before my parents could come in, and I do remember asking the BF to take a picture of me holding O. I look a little confused, maybe a little tired, but I don’t exactly look excited. Then again, I was mid-sentence when he took the picture so that could be part of it.

I was told I’d have to stay in my bed for the remainder of the day, probably, because even after the numbing wore off I wouldn’t be able to comfortably get in and out of bed to pee. I thought that was pretty stupid, and as soon as I could feel my legs I asked my nurse to let me try to get up. She laughed, but then relented and started moving blankets and getting my catheter ready. The look on her face when I successfully stood up and started shuffling around the room was priceless, and she was still shaking her head as she took me in the bathroom to take out my catheter.

That part, by the way, doesn’t suck at all. It’s just a little pop! and it’s gone. Pretty painless.

The time I spent in the hospital was great. Nurses were coming in to take a look at O because word had gotten around that he had a ridiculous head of dark hair. We had a few visitors, but nothing too crazy. The BF went out to get us ice cream and brought Blizzards to all of the nurses. I was kind of sad when they told me we were released.

The recovery sucked. I wasn’t in a ton of pain, but I there were definitely times when I was reminded I had been cut open. I also had some gas bubbles that seriously felt like they were ripping my stomach open. Coughing, laughing, sneezing, sudden movements…all were painful, even if I had just taken pain meds. I wasn’t allowed to pick up anything heavier than my baby. Do you know what’s heavier than an eight-pound baby boy? Damn near everything. I couldn’t drive, I had some trouble getting in and out of chairs by myself, and pooping was absolutely terrifying. I don’t know that it’s possible to overdose on stool softeners, but I’ll bet I came close.

TMI? Sorry.

Then there’s the stuff that happens no matter how you get the baby out. Nothing is worse than talking to your best friend when you suddenly pass the mother of all blood clots and have to quickly shuffle to the bathroom before it falls out of your diaper. Because, yes, you are basically stuck wearing diapers for a few weeks.

Oh yeah, that’s definitely TMI.

There’s also the long-term stuff that you never hear about. My ab muscles separated, so here I am over two years post-baby and they’re finally coming back together (it’s taken some work, I’ll tell ya). I also have weird sensations from the scar tissue (that’s also from my second surgery) that feel a lot like something moving around in there. I can’t feel the area around my scar…except when it itches. Then I can feel the itch, but I could attack it with a cheese grater and feel no relief. That’s a blast and a half.

So, over two years removed from my sweet boy’s c-section arrival, do I still feel like a failure?

Nope. Not even a little bit.

I realized at some point that, as long as your child is healthy it doesn’t matter how you got him or her here. Having a c-section was the very first thing I did as a mother to ensure my boy’s safety. It wasn’t fun, but if I could do it over again I totally would.

And yes, I have a gnarly scar to show for it. I have actually come to love my scar for what it represents.


Photo courtesy of Portraits by Natalie, because it’s surprisingly difficult to take a photo of your own scar.

After all, if my kid ever asks where he came from, I can show him my scar. Certainly can’t do that if you squeezed yours out the old fashioned way, can you?

Good God, I’d hope not.

Did you have a c-section? How did it go?

Happy Cesarean Awareness Month!

I had tentative plans yesterday to meet up with a friend that was in town for a short time.

I knew she would be busy trying to see everyone, but she had some free time during the day. I let her know that I had to go to town, but that O would need to nap first. Then to illustrate my point, I sent a video of The Grouchy One in all his grouchy glory.

Of course he was not in the mood to cooperate, and it was getting later in the morning. I decided to run to the store regardless of his napless status, thinking his grumpiness might be hunger. We grabbed some lunch and ran our errands, then I headed home to put the groceries away before meeting up with my friend. I considered leaving the stuff in the car, but I didn’t want to take a chance that the milk would freeze and explode in my car. Yes, it’s already that cold in Indiana.

Don’t worry, next week it’s supposed to be above 50°. My sinuses hurt just thinking about it.


So of course O would decide that naptime needed to happen omgrightnow when we got home. I put him in his crib and sent my friend a message. She said her kid was napping, too, so no biggie.

I cleaned the house a bit and started working on dinner, and I was surprised to see how much tine had passed when my little stinker woke up at 5:30.

I thought, “I need to message friend and let her know that we won’t make it before 6.”

This is where my mom brain kicked in.

This morning, I opened messenger to send my mom a message. I noticed the previous day’s conversation with my friend and opened it…only to see that I had actually never sent the message after he woke up. I instantly felt like a huge asshole, because I had completely  left her hanging. I was also super pissed because I had really been looking forward to the visit.

I sent her a message and apologized, but I have felt like a humongous douche all day.

I wish I could say this is the first time it’s happened but…

At least once a day I think, “I’ll reply to that text in a second…”, then I put my phone down and completely forget. Sometimes for days.

I have been meaning to call my insurance company now for almost a month, but I never remember until the office is closed for the evening, or on the weekend.

I spent a good hour and a half working on a grocery list the other day. I went through the freezer, fridge, and pantry to determine what we had, then checked the recipes I wanted to try for the week and wrote down what I needed. Then I got to the store and realized the list was still on the kitchen counter.

You don’t even want to know how frequently I say, “That was today?!

I used to have a handle on stuff. In high school, I rarely wrote down assignments…I just remembered what I needed to do. I have an uncanny nack for picking up song lyrics. I can still recite the Greek alphabet after learning it in college, for crying out loud.

Yet, now that I’m a mom I can’t remember to put toilet paper on the grocery list (not that it matters, if it doesn’t make it to the store with me). I forget my point halfway through a story and end up feeling silly for bringing it up in the first place… And I would bet my life savings that there’s a load of clothes in the dryer that I’ve forgotten about.


Well lookie there!

What happened to me? Does this ever go away, or am I doomed to forever be feebly saying, “I’m sorry, I forgot”?

Please tell me I’m not alone in this.

Who knew becoming a mom opened you up for so much judgement? Not this girl.

Formula vs breastfeeding, co-sleep vs cry-it-out, stay at home vs go to work… All decisions that you make as a mother and all, apparently, open to judgement from only everyone.

It’s ridiculous.

I saw this on Facebook last week: - I hear you. Raising kids and running a house keep me busy, too. I also have this little gig on the side called a full time job.

And then I saw what Matt Walsh wrote about his wife, who is a stay at home mom:

The people who completely immerse themselves in the tiring, thankless, profoundly important job of raising children ought to be put on a pedestal. We ought to revere them and admire them like we admire rocket scientists and war heroes. These women are doing something beautiful and complicated and challenging and terrifying and painful and joyous and essential. Whatever they are doing, they ARE doing something, and our civilization DEPENDS on them doing it well. Who else can say such a thing? What other job carries with it such consequences?

And you know what? They’re both a bit ridiculous.

I mean, kudos to Matt Walsh for sticking up for his wife. I will admit that I LOVED his post when I first read it. Then I read it again, and again. He sounds a little…frenzied…in a couple of parts. Like he came straight home from that coffee shop and sat down at his computer to TELL. THOSE. BITCHES. WHAT’S. UP.

What completely baffles me about this whole thing is…Just why is everyone competing so furiously to have a harder life? I mean, seriously… I hear working moms say things like, “Well I have to work all day and then I have to come home and cook dinner.” or, “Well my house would be cleaner but I actually have to work…”

And then there are the stay at home moms that come back with things like, “Well I haven’t showered in three weeks!” and, “I don’t remember the last time I pooped by myself…”


Being a mom is hard. Period. Why don’t we all agree to stop competing for the title of shittiest life (uh, and biggest martyr) and actually be supportive of the other moms around us? And even better, maybe we should all remember that the parenting decisions made by other moms are actually none of our business and therefor not for us to comment on?

In the words of a good friend of mine (who happens to be a working mother, if that matters):

“Why do some moms have to be bitches?

Can’t we all just agree that being moms is a really hard job?”
And she’s right. There’s no reason to be so incredibly shitty to other mothers. We all have it rough on occasion BUT we also get to experience one of the most amazing journeys a human being can take.




7:00 am: Wake up, look at monitor and see O standing in his crib waving at the camera and saying, “Maamaamaa”. I’ve never been a morning person, and even though 7:00am (or earlier) is now my standard wake-up time, I still wake up all fuzzy-headed. The temptation to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep is strong. Still,  I go in and get him… and of course he gives me a huge smile and starts clapping when I walk in the room so I suddenly don’t mind being up.

7:05 am: First diaper change of the day. Looks like the prunes O ate the day before did their job. Sheeeeeeeewie! Toss diaper in the trash, make a pot of coffee, and run some dish water. I turn on the news and let O run wild around the living room for a while like a tiny but destructive tornado. Say “No” approximately one hundred million times. Get into a handfull of tickle fights… Surprise! I win! BF comes down for a cup of coffee and heads off to work.

7:30 am: Time for breakfast! Apples, bananas, and oatmeal for O, a cup of coffee for mama. BF stops back in for another cup of coffee before heading off to start his day. O and I play with flash cards while he’s chowing down.

8:10 am: A morning bath has become necessary after O decided to smear his breakfast on the high chair tray and rub his face in it. He also decided that apples, bananas and oatmeal would make a fantastic hair treatment, so he rubbed it all over his head. I let him make more of a mess in the high chair while I run bath water. He’s got so much breakfast in his hair that I actually have to lather, rinse, and repeat. He really enjoys bath time so I let him splash a play for a few minutes while we (I) sing the alphabet song. image 8:30 am: O is enjoying the after-bath nakedness immensely, so I let him hang out in the buff…but after a while I feel like I’m playing with fire, so on with a diaper and onesie. Surprisingly, he doesn’t fuss much. I decide to tempt fate and put him in the bouncy seat while I do some dishes and tidy up the kitchen… He doesn’t seem to mind, so I get some laundry sorted and throw a load in while he’s playing. We (I) sing songs while I work so he doesn’t feel like I’m ignoring him.

9:45 am: O is showing signs of being hungry and sleepy, so I make a bottle and get him settled. I only hold him to give him a bottle now at bedtime…any other time he will take care of that himself, thankyouverymuch. Take this opportunity to pee since I haven’t done that yet this morning. When he’s done eating, he seems to need some help falling asleep. I cave and bounce him for a few minutes while I stand in the living room and watch the last of the news.

10:20 am: O is sound asleep. Put laundry in the dryer and throw another load in the washer. Clean up bathroom and laundry room (nothing major, just wipe down sinks, toilet, bathtub and shower). Put high chair tray in hot, soapy water to soak. Head upstairs to tidy up the bedrooms. 12:00 pm: I’m starving, and O is STILL sleeping (he’s teething, so sometimes his naps are a little longer), so I decide to make myself some lunch. I get distracted by the high chair tray I forgot about so I go ahead and scrub that clean. I pull the laundry out of the dryer and get another load started while I’m at it. I start to fold the laundry when I remember that I meant to have lunch.


12:30: I make myself a quick salad (arugula, beets, a sprinkle of parmesan, and a little ranch dressing with a bottle of water to drink). I get two bites in before O wakes up. Of course. When I pick him up it becomes apparent that those prunes didn’t completely leave his system this morning. Smelly diaper change in the middle of lunch…Why not?

12:40: Dispose of butt bomb and wash my hands. I decide to try eating with O on my lap and by some miracle he cooperates. After I eat, we have another round of chase the baby around the living room while I attempt to fold laundry. O decides to help by pulling all of the laundry out of the chair and onto the floor. This keeps him occupied, so I play along by putting the clothes back into the chair so he can pull them out again. I use this opportunity to teach him about colors. “See that shirt of Mama’s that you’re dragging across the floor? That’s a pink shirt. Oh, and that sock you’re chewing on? Why, that’s white…” O laundry 2:30 pm: O is suddenly STARVINGRIGHTNOW so I make him a bottle. He takes his sweet time eating, then starts to act sleepy. Bouncing doesn’t seem to work so I take him upstairs to rock him in his bedroom.

3:15 pm: O is asleep in his crib. I go downstairs to work on more laundry and fold, fold, fold. While I’m at it, I pick up the living room. Because I apparently love doing the same thing a hundred times a day.

4:45 pm: O is awake and HANGRY. Retrieve the little chomper from his crib, change his (thankfully not poopy) diaper and hook him up with a bottle. Hey, did I mention I have MORE laundry to fold? This time O is occupied, so I get a lot done while he downs his bottle. We count the clothes as I fold. I may or may not do a pretty crappy Sesame Street Count Dracula impression while we fold and count. “ONE t-shirt, AH-AH-AAAAHHHH…”

6:00 Holy Mother, the kid pooped again. Change diaper, get him out if his onesie and into his high chair. Time for some veggies!

6:15 pm: BF comes home with formula, diapers, and a hand-held bug zapper. He proceeds to then wander about the house zapping flies, completely distracting O from his dinner.

6:45 pm: The boy is finally done eating. I clean him up and wipe down the high chair and tray. He goes in the play yard for a minute while I take a couple of baskets of clean clothes upstairs. By the time I get back down (maybe a minute later), he’s tired of being in there and letting me know about it. I let him out and he immediately heads over to bang on the tv screen. We start the “you know you aren’t allowed to do that” dance, where I pick him up and deposit him away from the tv, and he goes right back to it. This goes in for a while, then The BF comes in and distracts O for a bit.

7:30 pm: Bedtime is near, and you can tell O is ready. I make the little grump a bottle and he sits on the BF’s lap while he eats. He gets a new diaper, then he goes with the BF for a quick evening ranger ride around the property. {Bedtime usually consists of a bath (about every other night or so since his skin tends to be a bit sensitive), a bottle, and rocking in his room while I sing songs that I’ve customized with his name. Occasionally, though, the BF likes to take him on ‘nature drives’.} While they’re gone, I put the laundry away and put dinner in the oven. Typically I start making dinner around 5, but we have leftover homemade chicken alfredo pizza (um, with bacon) so I don’t have to mess with it tonight. Hooray!

8:10 pm: The BF is back, and O is sound asleep. BF puts O in his crib, then comes down to eat. I do more dishes (bottles and dinner plates) and make a gallon of iced tea while talking to the BF. After I’ve got the kitchen cleaned up he heads off to do some more work. The man is always working, seriously.

9:00 pm: I sit down and eat a piece of pizza, then I decide I need ice cream. I flip through the guide on the tv and find that a show I like comes on at

10:00 (Tripping Out with Allie and Georgia… cutest show ever) so I switch to that channel to make sure I don’t miss it.

10:15 pm: The BF is still in his office working on something and I’m only 15 minutes into my show but…I just can’t keep my eyes open. I make my way through the house, turning off lights and stuff…Then I realize that I’ve forgotten to brush my teeth. I make it back to the bathroom in the dark, managing to only run into one wall, brush the ol’ chompers, and head upstairs to bed.


10:30 pm: I’m suddenly wide awake as soon as my head hits the pillow…So I bust out my phone and fool around on Facebook and Twitter for a bit. Thought Catalog  has tweeted links to some interesting articles, so I read those.

10:45 pm: Ok, now I’m back to being sleepy. I check the boy on the monitor and he hasn’t moved…so I sit there and stare until he fidgets just a little so I know he’s ok. Sure, I could get up and go check on him, but sometimes just breathing near his doorway wakes him up and then it’s TIME TO PLAY, MAMA! Um, no. I’ll just lay here and squint at the monitor, thanks.

Sometime around 11:00 pm: ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…   So there you have it. An honest answer to the question I always get when I tell people I’m a stay at home mom: “What do you do all day?!” No, I don’t get bored…And no, I don’t just ‘sit on my ass all day’ as some people would suggest. In fact, I don’t generally stop moving until I flop down on the couch some time after the sun goes down.

I did not document all of the times I went to the bathroom (so don’t worry, I do pee and poop during the day), but just assume that any time O naps or is contained or is being distracted by someone else I take the opportunity to go pee. Even if I don’t have to, I try.

What? You just never know when you’ll get the opportunity again.

I actually chose a pretty light day, as far as cleaning goes… Typically I pick a room and clean it top to bottom (as best I can with a 9 month old) each day…And I usually try to do a load of laundry a day to avoid days like this. I wasn’t home much last week, though, so a day of laundry catch-up was necessary!

What does your day look like? Do you stay home or do you go to work?

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