I trust her IMPLICITLY with my child, but it still made me nervous. Why? Because I’m pregnant and that seems to bring out my most impressive obsessive-compulsive behavior. I often wake up at night with thoughts like, “what if I left my bra on the floor and ONE finds it and somehow strangles himself with it?!“

When these thoughts strike, I’ll get up, find the bra hanging up somewhere, assure myself there is no way he can reach it, and if he could, there’s no way he could harm himself with it anyway. By the time I work it out in my head, say a prayer just in case, pee, pee again, and arrange my pillows, it’s 30 minutes later. 

No wonder I’m always tired.

That being said, you can probably imagine the thoughts that kept me awake at night all last week, as I thought about ONE’s visit to the pool. I worried if the floaties I bought could develop a tiny hole in them or if it was possible for them to pop or lose air suddenly. I bought a pair that said they could keep up to 112 pounds afloat. 

ONE weighs 35 pounds. 

But STILL.

So I did what made sense. I bought a Spiderman life jacket. Just in case.

Yep, if there was an award to be had for Least Likely To Sink, I’m sure he would have won it. That’s my boy.

We’ve been busy at our house. Memorial Day weekend, we transformed ONE’s room into a room fit for a soon-to-be big brother and turned TWO’s room into a dumping ground for junk I don’t know what to do with.

Playing with Daddy!

The room is super cute and to be honest, I kind of like it better than my own. ONE adjusted quite nicely to it.

View from the door.

 We also bought a new mattress set for our bedroom, which is a whole other blog post. Let it suffice to say that while Husband and I do love each other, we’re sick of sleeping in a king-size bed that dips in the middle. We have been sleeping in that situation for 6 years now. 

It was time for us to make yet another majorly boring, yet expensive purchase together. A mattress.

And finally, a friend recommended a FABULOUS book to me which I’ve been unable to put down. Bossypants. Go get it immediately.

I confess that I have an addiction to the Wendy’s Frosty. I learned today that the large frosty contains 620 calories. I have eaten one of those almost every other day for the past month. Don’t think I won’t keep getting them.

I confess that getting away from my responsibilities for a weekend was just what I needed. Is that also addictive? Getting away? Because I’d really like to do it again.

I confess that I have a mild obsession with the Cheesecake Factory and although I’m shocked that it would cost me $47 to purchase a 10-inch Kahlua Cocoa Coffee Cheesecake … I’m tempted to do it anyway.

I confess that ONE is quite successfully driving me insane and I don’t understand why he doesn’t act like a lunatic when he’s with his Daddy. He reserves his completely out of control behavior for me, and I’m much quicker to discipline so it only results in a boatload of spankings.

I confess that last night I hid from my family for almost two hours. I went upstairs to take a bath and then I took a nap. It was glorious.

I confess that I scheduled my maternity leave to begin a week before my due date so I will have time (hopefully) to do absolutely nothing, or whatever I feel like doing, before TWO’s arrival. That day I speak of, the day I leave work, is 12 weeks, 2 days away. 

… you aren’t home to dress your child.

“Mommy, are you a princess?”

This is what ONE asks me any time he sees me wearing a dress, a nightgown, a robe, or an apron. I love it.

I just laugh and tell him yes, I am. He might as well learn now how to treat a lady.

I have been SO grumpy for the past 7 days, which I attribute to stress and lack of rest. I have been a no-fun, naggy, irritable, demanding GROUCH and when I’m not mad at my husband, I feel sorry for him.

This morning, ONE saw me walking down the stairs in a pink nightgown and velcro rollers and said “Hi, Mommy! You’re pretty!”

I just love that boy.

Ugh … daycare. How I loathe and love you.

The hardest part of being a working mommy is the issue of childcare. I love to work, but I hate leaving my son. It sent me into a major depression-like funk for the entire first year of his life because I was so laden with guilt over it. We did our best to choose the best possible daycare for him, but no matter how wonderful the staff, or how much fun he seemed to have, I still felt like I was falling way short as a mother.

Read the rest here!

Some forms of embarrassment simply cannot be avoided.

Today, when I picked up ONE, his teacher greeted me by smiling and taking a deep breath. That is never a good sign. I braced myself. She seemed like she didn’t know quite how to tell me what happened. 

I waited.

You see, ONE has a friend who has a lisp. This friend happens to be obsessed with Thomas the Train, just like ONE. In case you aren’t familiar, Thomas the Train has all kinds of other train friends … and one in particular is named Percy. 

Unfortunately, The Lisper pronounces Percy incorrectly. I imagine he pronounces a lot of words incorrectly, but I hope for his mother’s sake most of them don’t sound like slang for lady parts. And, unfortunately for me, my son is a great imitator.

Today, at naptime, ONE yelled out “I LOVE PUSSY!“

If you’re looking for me, I’m currently hiding under a rock.

(source)



(source)

 Here’s a summary of my weekend:

1. I purchased this dry shampoo for $8.99 at Target. I can’t wait to try it! I have a feeling it will be a life changer … much like the discovery of earplugs.

2. After searching for three hours (!!!) at several department stores for a new bra, I finally broke down and went to Motherhood Maternity, home of the $50 bra, where the nice lady measured me and kindly gave me my “correct size.”

3. My “correct size” can only be purchased at specialty stores.

4. It also starts with the letter “F,” as in, “FAT chance you’ll get out of this without looking like one of those National Geographic women.”

5. We watched the movie Shutter Island. DO NOT watch this movie if you are pregnant, or have children. It was awful.

6. All I can think about is my freakishly large chest, and that horrible movie.

7. I managed to get off my ass and make a batch of tuna salad. This marks the first thing I’ve cooked from scratch in exactly three weeks.

8. It’s entirely possible that I’ll eat all of it by myself.