Wordless Wednesday

Sunday, Sunday

 Like most weekends, we had a long list of things we wanted to accomplish last Sunday. But, in a moment of spontaneity the likes of which we are unfamiliar with these days, we blew off everything and headed out to a waterside restaurant to enjoy the amazing weather.

Thankfully, I brought the camera.

When MRA was younger, people would ask who he looked like and our response was always, "My Dad." Then for a while, he didn't look like anyone.

Lately, though, I have begun to see myself in MRA. At least a resemblance. At least I thought so until I was scrolling through the photos I took yesterday.

This child is clearly his Daddy's son!

Wordless Wednesday

On The Topic Of Things I Never Thought I Would Say

There is no shortage of these sorts of moments after one has kids. These thoughts, phrases, sentences just sort of come out of your mouth and leave you standing there, screwing your face up and thinking, "Wait... what? Did I really just say that?"


My most recent "Wait... what? Did I really just say that?" came last night whilst attempting to get MRA into the bath. Pre-bath is currently the only time he will use the potty. Last night, we started with our pre-bath routine. All was going as it should until he decided to hop up and get a q-tip to clean his ears.

You are probably thinking... whooooaaa Mama, a toddler with a q-tip? This is where the story is going to go awry. Annnnnd, you would be correct.

I was supervising and could see the q-tip wasn't making it into the actual ear so I was not too worried about him puncturing his ear drum.

There we sat, he on his potty, trying to clean his ear; me on my potty, supervising when... whoops, he began to pee. Now he pees on the potty nearly every night so this shouldn't be that exciting BUT he has never peed on the potty while holding a q-tip.


Which is when I found myself saying, "No, no. If you want to clean your ears, you have to keep the q-tip clean and you won't be doing that if you stick it in the pee pee."


Wait... what??? Did I really just say that?

Me, My Pump, and I

Returning to work after maternity leave has its share of challenges. Not the least of which revolves around the pumping. In actuality, the pumping has to occur before maternity leave is over in order to be prepared for the return to work. And this tends to stress me out as I am constantly staring at the bottle as it fills, hoping I will get enough ounces to make a full bottle for the baby.
And the pump, its just not the same as nursing. Its not warm and snuggle-y, it doesn't look at you and smile or hold your hand. Its just a machine. And it totally distorts your boob. Which used to mean that there was no way I was letting Jonathan anyone in the room at the same time because nothing in the history of ever could be less sexy than a boob being pumped. For those of you who have never had the pleasure, it does not hurt but... It's. SO. Not. Fun.
In saying all that, after I had MRA, I, in some ways, looked forward to my time pumping (at home - not at work). It was my quiet time. I could go to my room, close the door, listen to music or watch tv and for 20, 30, sometimes 40 minutes get some peace and quiet.
As anyone with "two under two" two will tell you, two is a lot more than two. So, with a second bouncing bundle of boy, the idea of this peaceful alone time was something I looked forward to when it came time for pumping again. This time around, however, things are totally different.
There is no alone time.
There is no peace.
There is no QUIET!

Instead, many a morning pumping session has involved the dog jumping on me trying to get some much needed attention. This is usually followed by MRA coming in my room and trying to climb on my lap. Being the helpful lil gentleman that he is, he insists upon turning on (and off) the pump and also holding the tubing for me.

Of course Jonathan has to get ready for work, so he is in the room and because we are all right there, we can't leave ASA in another part of the house. Oh, and then, sometimes, my mom will walk in and out. She has become so comfortable with the pumping that she thinks it speaks to her. It says bathroom, apparently, over and over again. Although the other day, she insisted it said something else. But I can't get past "BATHroom, BATHroom, BATHroom".

Seriously, I have had both bambinos on my lap, trying to hold everything in place while waiting for Jonathan to get out of the shower.

The weekends aren't any better.

What used to be my quiet time is now a goat rodeo. I miss my quiet time and am looking forward to the day I pump no more. And the day I am sure that the pumping is over... I'm gonna run it over with my car. The pump, that is. And when that happens, I won't mind the audience. There may even be a video that gets posted on this very blog. Stay tuned!
 
Me, My pump, and I. Ha, I don't think so.

Wordless Wednesday

Hellllloooo Lover!

Damn you Nine West

When I opened my email the other morning, I was confronted with wonderful, colorful glorious photos of spring shoes!

Now, I love shoes. I have been a shoe-a-holic for some time but in the months after child birth my desire for shoes has increased ten-fold.

You see, the thing with the shoes is they ALWAYS fit, they always make my outfit look pulled together, they NEVER give me a muffin top, and I don't need a spanx for them.

So while I shlepp away, still in maternity pants, feeling doughy, out of shape, and generally disappointed with me appearance. I can put on a fabulous pair of shoes and make myself feel a little better.

And, while I may refuse to buy non-maternity clothes in a bigger size in the hopes that my old wardrobe will once again fit, I can't help myself with the shoes.

Wordless Wednesday