web analytics

Siri: My Preschooler’s New Personal Assistant

I saw some article on my Facebook newsfeed the other day that mentioned that four year olds ask an average of 437 questions per day. My immediate thought was, “Is that all?” In my house, it certainly feels like about four times that amount. I start my day with the intention of being patient, answering my son’s questions, and appreciating his curiosity. By noon, I start ignoring him, nodding my head and smiling to anything and everything that comes out of his mouth. At least I’m still pretending to be interested at that point, right? At 4PM, I’m almost always responding to everything with, “I don’t know,” or, “because I said so,” while guzzling wine and praying for my husband to roll in from work to save me from the four year old interrogation.

Then, a few weeks ago, I came up with a genius idea. My kid’s two favorite things in the world are as follows: asking pointless questions and playing on my cell phone. I finally realized that I could solve my conversational kid problems by introducing him to the one thing in the world solely designed to answer questions (on a cell phone, nonetheless): Siri.

photo via http://appadvice.com/

photo via http://appadvice.com/

Listening to my son speak to Siri was one of the most hilarious things I have witnessed as a parent. Between the uselessness of his questions and the fact that Siri could hardly understand a thing he was saying due to his rapid fire question asking, I got to witness some comical responses from the trademarked “Intelligent Personal Assistant.” Below are a random sample of the type of things my four year old felt it necessary to ask Miss Siri.

1.) Whats your middle name?

2.) So, what’s the best poker?

3.) What’s the best baseball team again?

4.) What are handcuffs for policemans for?

5.) What are you going to be for Halloween Siri? Because it’s almost Halloween.

6.) What is the hairiest dog? I have a big dog.

7.) What’s the best baby?

8.) What’s the best computer that can do anything?

9.) What the best website on street number ?

10.) What’s that big cord for?

11.) What’s in there?

12.) Why is it dark out in the morning?

13.) How old are you? How old are you? How old are you, Siri?

14.) Where’s Daddy? Where is my Daddy?

15.) When is the red thing going to come to my hand?

16.) What’s the biggest lion at the zoo? Hahahah.

17.) What’s the best circus player?

18.) Let’s get out.

19.) Why? Why? Why, Mom?

20.) Why is Mom writing down all the funny things I told you?


After about twenty minutes of this nonsense, my son handed my phone back to me and said, “Mom, she stopped answering. I think I knocked her out.”

No hard feelings, Siri. After 427 questions, I give up, too.

Zoo Boo with Two

I think it’s safe to say that getting out of the house with any amount of children is a challenge. It was difficult with only one. And it’s about twice as difficult with two. The easiest thing to do would be to become a recluse and avoid public parenting appearances at all cost, but I promised myself that I’d conquer my crowd anxiety and take my kids out even after this baby arrived. I don’t want my three year old to miss out on all of the fun events that he’s used to attending, like play dates and parties, even though dragging an infant along can make things a little complicated. So today, I faced one of my fears, packed up the kids, and went to Zoo Boo – an annual trick or treating event at our local zoo.

I have to say, I’ve done a kick ass job of getting myself to events with our weekly playgroup. A newborn is actually relatively portable in the beginning, since they sleep the majority of time you are out and about. But today, I knew this whole Zoo Boo business would be a little bit more difficult than the average play date. It was chilly outside, the event would last at least a few hours, and I knew my three year old would be missing his nap time. Any event that spans several hours requires a massive amount of packing, plus the weather was a little iffy, so we’d need to plan for chilly conditions. Every ounce of my wanted to bail, sending my husband with my three year old so that I could spend some quiet time at home with my cozy baby, but I really didn’t want to miss out.

Here’s the thing about braving cold weather with kids. I not only have to find the warm coats, hats and gloves, but I also have to battle my three year old to actually put it on. Then there are the costumes to consider. I spent at least a half hour trying to convince Grey that Superman definitely wears a winter hat AND he pees before he puts on his costume, belt, and coat. Once all that was taken care of, I attempted to put the baby in his dinosaur suit, but then realized that strapping a kid in a costume into a tiny car seat is pretty much a sweaty shit show.

Not to mention, wrestling an infant out of his chintzy, one piece dinosaur get up in order to change his diaper in a dirty public bathroom sounded pretty intense. And so, I said screw the costume for the baby. This is what happens with baby number two. Convenience over cuteness.

My attempt at the infant dino costume. We didn't get passed the head piece.

My attempt at the infant dino costume. We didn’t get passed the head piece.

Overall, the afternoon was pretty awesome. The highlights included seeing an official group of adults dressed in “authentic, professional-grade” Star Wars costumes (which I thought was absolutely hilarious and my son thought was terrifying), witnessing a scandalous mother dressed as “sexy witch” complete with a short skirt and fishnet stockings, and watching my husband and his guy friend get mistaken as a couple when a Zoo employee offered to take a “family” photo for them by the scarecrow display (which turned out rather cute, if you ask me).

As I made my way out of the zoo through crowds of overtired, sugared up, screaming children – including at least six different crying kids in Elsa costumes – I felt proud of myself for both braving the crowd and even having some fun. Despite the stress and the chaos, I just might bring the kids back next year.

Happy Halloween!

My little Superman (in his hat and coat).

My little Superman (in his hat, coat, and cape).

My First Post-Baby Post

Four years ago, my husband and I were getting ready to welcome our first child into our family. We were still enjoying long nights of uninterrupted sleep and hours of free time spent preparing for our tiny addition. We were 26 and 27 – what many would probably consider young for having a child nowadays – but we were excited. With a few months to go, we couldn’t wait to meet our little bundle of joy.

Reality set in when we brought Greyson home from the hospital in February of 2012. We had no idea what we were doing. We were both overwhelmed and in over our heads. We missed free time, happy hours, and daily trips to the gym. And after eight months of feeling like an absolute mess of a mother, The Honest Mommy began.

My blog became a way for me to vent about my insecurities as a new mother. As it turned out, lots of friends and strangers began following my stories and I felt less alone – I realized that what I was going through, the feelings of being inadequate and frazzled, were more the norm than the exception.

Fast forward three years, I am back to working full time during the day, and recently welcomed our second baby, Gannon (which explains my absence from regular blogging). It’s not that I ran out of things to say, I’ve just run out of time to say them.  But last night, as I looked around my room at the explosion of baby gear, teething toys, breast pumps, overflowing garbages filled with dirty diapers, I started feeling the need to share my experiences of life with two. I can’t promise I will find the time to post every week, considering the majority of my free time now goes to shoving a quick meal in my mouth and catching up on as much shut eye as possible – but I’ll do my best to fill you in on the craziness of working full time while caring for two active baby boys.

So far, I’ve realized that caring for two kids is very similar to caring for one. However, life has become a game of carefully calculated choices. Let me explain.

After Grey was born, I definitely felt like my life was a shit show the majority of the time. Nonetheless, I did find the time to shower regularly, get dressed most days, and even got my hair cut and colored every so often. With only one child, you can utilize nap time – two hours of blissful child-free time and space each day. Additionally, it’s easy (and less expensive) to find a sitter to watch one child, so my husband and I even got out once in a while. I remember seeing a mother out in public whose children looked well rested and dressed adorably only to find that the poor woman looked as though she hadn’t slept in a decade even though she was wearing pajamas that look as though she’d been wearing them for days. It wasn’t until I had a second child that I realized the cause for such confusion. Life with two (or more) – it’s all about the choices. You dress the kids or you dress yourself. Clearly, that mom I witnessed – she chose the kids.

My days have become very similar. In the mornings, I have time to put on makeup or to blow dry my hair. I can shave my legs or brush my teeth. I can stop for coffee after dropping the kids at daycare or I can be on time to work. I can make them dinner or I can make myself dinner (because god forbid we all eat the same thing for once). I can grab a snack or I can pour myself a glass of wine. You get the idea. At this very moment, I’m deciding between finishing this blog or picking up the baby who is beginning to fuss in the swing. And in this game of choices, most of the time, the children win.

The work is similar – bath times, bed times, bottles, diapers – but the amount of time per day that I have to get anything done seems to have been cut in half. It may be a while before I leave the house in which myself and both my children are fed, dressed, and well-rested. I probably won’t have an evening when both the laundry and the dishes are done at the same time. And I may never again have the time to paint my nails and pluck my eye brows in the same week. But when it comes down to it, and I look at my boys playing together on the floor, I have to say that so far, it’s totally worth it.


The Main Event: The New Kids on the Block Giveaway

UPDATE: And the winner is…..

Angela M.! Thanks so much for entering – I have e-mailed you the instructions for collecting your prize.


Last year, I had an AMAZING opportunity to partner up with my friends over at Cottonelle to attend New York’s hottest event: Fashion Week. And not only did I attend – I actually got to participate. That’s right – if you recall, I rocked a dress made entirely of Cottonelle toilet paper on the runway alongside a bunch of other bloggers and celebrity mommies in the one and only, The Fashionable Mom Show. It was an amazing event, the chance of a lifetime, and a total blast.

Luckily, Cottonelle and I have the chance to partner up again to bring an awesome event to YOU! And trust me, if I didn’t have a newborn at home, I’d be hitting this event up myself. But since I am knee deep in around the clock breastfeeding sessions and running on an average 3.5 hours of sleep every night (plus about a million cups of coffee), I am going to pass this opportunity along to my trusted followers.

So here’s what’s up.

This year, Cottonelle is teaming up with one of the hottest bands of all time. This group of studs sold more than 80 million albums worldwide — including back-to-back international #1 songs. “They were Forbes highest paid entertainers of 1990, beating out Michael Jackson and Madonna. The band boasted an extensive and highly profitable merchandise line which included everything from lunch boxes and sleeping bags to comic books, marbles and dolls.” They are, the one and only, the original boy band, THE NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK!”


And what exactly are they trying to do?? Cottonelle and NKOTB are working together to “clean up” the concert scene by encouraging concert goers to “put an end to the pop-culture phenomenon of underwear throwing at concerts. The commando-themed concert is part of a larger effort by the toilet paper brand to let people know that only Cottonelle has CleanRipple texture to get you clean, giving you the confidence to go commando.”

That’s right, ladies. Rather than tossing your undies on stage, why not just leave them at home?!? And the only way to possibly #GoCommando is to be sure you are #Cottonelle clean. By using Cottonelle’s CleanRipple products, such as the Cottonelle toilet paper and flushable cleansing cloth products, you can be confident enough to #GoCommando too. Read more about Cottonelle and TNKOTB by clicking here.

Cottonelle Go Commando Concert with New Kids on the Block

So what’s in it for you?! Cottonelle has so generously offered one pair of tickets to The Main Event: The New Kids on the Block concert taking place in my hometown, Buffalo, NY, on 7/2/2015. By entering my giveaway below, you can win these TWO FREE TICKETS to attend this kick ass event.

While I am sad I can’t be the one going commando at the concert, I’m pumped to be able to bring you this opportunity. Enter below in the next 24-hours and be sure to check your e-mail to find out who the lucky winner will be! Good luck and be sure to share this with all your friends!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Is there a sexy side to pregnancy?

Maybe it’s just me, but pregnancy is not one of those times in my life when I’ve felt my most attractive. I’m sure there are women (and men) out there who find pregnancy to be very natural and sexy, but for the most part, I feel…. frumpy. To me, there is nothing seductive about elastic waistband pants and shirts embellished with stretchy seams to accommodate my ever-growing belly.

I find maternity clothes (and all clothes, really) to be constraining and uncomfortable during pregnancy, which means I typically end up sporting my bathrobe or the baggiest sweatpants I can find the minute I get back from work each day. Since I arrive home about an hour before my husband, he usually finds me lounging in my comfiest clothing while cooking dinner by the time he pulls in from work around 6:00. The other night, for some strange reason, I happened to actually be wearing jeans and a cute sweater. He commented on how nice I looked – and it totally hit me that he probably hasn’t seen me in anything but elastic for at least a month.

There are plenty of other problems beyond the issue of finding cute and comfortable clothing to accommodate the 20 extra pounds of weight around my middle. It’s pretty difficult to paint your toe nails when you haven’t been able to reach your feet in weeks. I mean, just getting socks and shoes on in the morning while a tiny human kicks me in ribs is challenging enough. And attempting to shave my legs is like an acrobatic routine that I’d just rather not endure on a regular basis.

I’ve seen some women sharing maternity photos on social media of themselves dressed in nearly nothing – showing off their gorgeous figures and their precious pregnancy “glow.” Check out this photo Vanessa Lachey shared on Twitter during her pregnancy in 2012.

Vanessa Lachey - Photo courtesy of http://blog.thebump.com/2012/06/21/its-a-boy-for-vanessa-nick-lachey/

Vanessa Lachey – Photo courtesy of http://blog.thebump.com/2012/06/21/its-a-boy-for-vanessa-nick-lachey/

I’m all for attempting to embrace my changing shape, but it feels like the only glow I’m sporting these days is due to the beads of sweating forming on my face from lugging around baby weight while dealing with constant back pain. And speaking of back pain – it doesn’t get sexier than the maternity support belt. Strapping four pieces of fabric and Velcro over my expandable pants definitely makes me feel desirable. While I’d love to attempt some sensual preggo photos, I feel this type of photo more honestly captures my experience with pregnancy:

 Doesn't get more seductive than a support belt. Am I right?

Doesn’t get more seductive than a support belt. Am I right?

After all is said and done, I know I’m fortunate to be able to experience pregnancy and to be carrying a healthy baby. I know the nine months of lending my body to baby will be totally worth it when we reach the end. Not to mention, I also know the first few months post-partum is probably even less sexy than the pregnancy itself (picture leaking breast milk, constant pumping, spit-up covered clothing, etc). So for now, I’ll continue to sport my support belt underneath my stretchy shirts and pray to god I get my sexy back somewhere in the near future.

The Nursery

As an expecting mother, one of most exciting things for me during both my pregnancies has been planning a nursery. For the most part, I’m not talented in interior design, nor do I thoroughly enjoy it, but let me just tell you that the nesting rumors are true. Pregnant women love to get shit ready for their babies to arrive. And considering the nursery is where I will be spending the majority of my sleepless nights during the next several months, I might as well put some time and effort into making it a cozy place to be.

During my first pregnancy, I felt the same desire to do some serious nursery decorating/nesting, but my interior design efforts consisted mostly of walking into Babies R Us and scanning a ton of shit to put in the nursery. The nursery décor at Babies R Us is pretty much a bedroom in a box – they have an entire wall of themed décor that you can literally stand and scan in a matter of minutes. Not only do they offer everything you need, such as bedding, lamps, wall decals, hampers, window treatments, etc, but it all matches the same color scheme and cliché theme of your choice. I’m not knocking this kind of decorating, since it is clearly what we chose the first time around, but it does feel kind of generic when I look back at pictures of the nursery. But who can blame me? Grey was born before I knew Pinterest existed. Who the hell could complete any kind of creative DIY/decorating project without first pinning hundreds of pictures to your Pinterest boards??

I attempted to make up for my sad lack of design skills when Grey moved into his new bedroom at age two. Rather than stepping foot into Babies R Us, or any other baby supply store, I searched the internet for some inspiration and created a pretty cool little kid’s room (in my opinion, anyway). Check out of some photos of Grey’s current bedroom below.




So when it came time to turn our guest room into a baby’s bedroom, I was determined to do something more creative than the first nursery I nested in. I found an awesome photo on Pinterest of a room I loved – I’d share the link here but unfortunately the webpage no longer exists. So, I used this one photo as a model for finding some cool wall art and modern patterns. I had my heart set on painting stripes on one wall in the bedroom and thus begged my husband to hire a painter to avoid having to take on this task. The thought of trying to work out precise measurements, make sure the stripes were level, and hope to God that the painter’s tape would prevent the paint from seeping out was a little overwhelming. But since we weren’t able to find an affordable painter who was available and my husband was begging me to have a little faith in his abilities, we decided to go ahead and attempt to do the painting ourselves. Now that the room is finally finished, I have to say, I think we did a damn good job. The stripes came out perfect and the wall décor is exactly what I was picturing. Check out some photos below!

Baby B's Bedroom

Baby B’s Bedroom – The Stripes



I had such a hard time finding a rug, but I totally fell in love with this Safavieh Amherst Navy and Ivory print – and they had it in a seven foot round, which was perfect for the space! And after purchasing and returning several different window treatments, I finally settled on a teal geometric print from Target.


I’m SO thrilled with how the wall art came out! I wanted a quote from the Bob Dylan song “Make You Feel My Love,” so I found an artist on Etsy who paints quotes on wooden pallets and purchased it in navy blue. I purchased the “Be Brave Today” digital file on Etsy as well, then printed and framed it. I found a cheap wooden letter “G” at Hobby Lobby and used acrylics to paint it teal and white. I purchased three bow ties from Children’s Place, then glued them into a shadow box frame. My favorite piece in the nursery is definitely the digitized print of our family dog, created by my very-talented-graphic designer sister. Check out her business Facebook page here.

My Pinterest Inspired DIY Mobile!

My Pinterest Inspired DIY Mobile!

I saw a homemade mobile on Pinterest and fell in love! It looked easy enough to create…. and it wasn’t too bad…. however it was far more time consuming than I would have liked. Check out the tutorial I used online here.




Even though trying to create a unique room was a lot of work, I so happy with the final result. So when I’m spending half the night feeding, changing, and rocking a newborn, at least we’ll have a cozy space to get comfortable in.

Have some nursery design ideas?? Leave me a comment or a link to photos below!

Follow The Honest Mommy on Pinterest at:


From Trendy to Kid Friendly

Before my husband and I had our first child, we enjoyed a lot of perks that we totally took for granted. Our routine during the week consisted of going to work, meeting up at the gym for a workout, and eating a late dinner around 8:00pm. And on the weekends? Well, on Fridays, we went out. We drank lots of alcohol. We slept in late. And then we did it again on Saturday. Just living the dream.

At some point, we got a puppy, which totally threw off our lackadaisical lifestyle. We couldn’t go to the gym together after work because someone had to get home to let the dog out. We had to get up in the middle of the night and early in the morning to let him out to pee. And we thought that was rough. (We were naïve sons of bitches, by the way).

Anyways, besides hitting up happy hours and having drinks with friends, our favorite “date night” thing to do was to spend our evenings trying the latest trendy restaurants downtown. Our favorite restaurant offers homemade pastas and decadent cheesecakes for dessert. We spent every special occasional at this awesome wine bar that serves the best steak and most delicious variety of wine a girl could ask for – and even features a few semi-circle round booths so that you can sit close to your hubby (which sounds super cheesy, but it was cozy). One of the newer restaurants we checked out a few times describes itself as “South Carolina Lowcountry cuisine & craft cocktails in a rustic-chic setting with chandeliers.” Sounds awesome, right? From what I remember, it is; sadly, it’s been a while since we’ve had the opportunity to stop in some of these places. Not exactly toddler friendly, if you know what I mean.

When our son was born, we didn’t go out to eat nearly as often as we had in the past. Even though a newborn is pretty portable, I felt weird breastfeeding in public and often found myself sitting in the backseat of the car feeding my baby while my husband was inside waiting for our dinner to arrive. And as he got older, I was terrified of taking him to restaurants for the sheer fact that he might throw a shit fit or blow out a diaper while waiting for our check to be delivered. But I eventually got over that new mommy fear and surprisingly, our kid is pretty well-behaved in public. He turned three recently and just like his mommy and daddy, one of his favorite things to do on the weekends is to eat out, which is awesome. The only difference these days is the type of place we find ourselves having dinner. You know, “rustic-chic with chandeliers” is not really his style…. Nevertheless, I think it’s important for him to learn how to sit through dinner (not to mention eating out means I don’t have to cook), so we’ve been taking him to restaurants a few times a month.

Last Friday, my husband and I planned to pick him up from daycare together after work and grab a bite to eat before heading home. We were trying to figure out where to go when I got this awesome text from Matt.

restaurant post 1

That’s right. He asked me if I wanted to go to Macaroni Grill BECAUSE THEY GIVE YOU CRAYONS TO DRAW ON THE TABLE.

We used to pick restaurants based on the level of trendiness and the whether or not they served cool cocktails. And now?? We choose where to go based on whether or not you can draw on the damn table (since our child will most likely draw on the table whether or not it’s allowed).

Some nights, I miss the freedom of pre-parenthood life when we were able to do whatever we wanted on the weekends. But the honest truth is I’d choose eating at TGI Fridays, Applebee’s – and yes, even Macaroni Grill – any day. As long as it means I get to spend the evening with two (soon to be three!) of the cutest boys I know.

restaurtant post 2

When Mommies Need “Me Time”

Back in January, I was the lucky recipient of the dreaded jury duty summons. Don’t get me wrong, I get it. It’s an American right and responsibility and so on. But to be honest, jury duty feels more like a major inconvenience than an important civic duty. From having to drive downtown at the crack of dawn, to having to pay for my own parking, and the sad $40 per day pay rate, it’s all pretty annoying. But honestly, when I received the summons, I looked at my number and I was pretty sure I had a good chance of not even being called in.

And I was wrong.

Sure enough, on the morning of my call to duty, I was told to report to the court house by 7:30am. I called in to work, got the baby off to daycare, and headed downtown. In true pregnant lady style, I showed up toting around a bag full of snacks and several bottles of water, knowing I had a long day of sitting around and doing nothing ahead of me. Since it’s not often that I have a full day of nothing to do, I also packed my iPad and a book I’d been attempting to read for the last year (or two).

After waiting in a very long security line and getting settled into a room full of 400 other people who were equally as thrilled to be there as I was, I decided to make the best of an annoying situation. I poured myself a decaf coffee and grabbed my book. To my surprise, I looked up at the clock some time later only to realize I had been busy reading for over an hour and a half. It occurred to me then that maybe jury duty wasn’t so bad after all. I mean, I couldn’t remember the last time I had an uninterrupted hour and a half to myself to just sit and read a book. And not only that, but I was actually getting paid $40 to sit there and enjoy some alone time (alone, besides the 400 other people in the room, of course).

By the fourth or fifth hour of the day, I had not only read half my book, but I had made some friends, enjoyed some adult time, and caught up on e-mails.

And around this time, I realized that I had been in desperate need of some time away from work and parenting. I mean – seriously – if you are enjoying yourself at jury duty, you probably need to get out more often. I couldn’t recall the last time I had taken some time to hang out with adults and do something that didn’t revolve around motherhood and career related responsibilities.

mom e card vacation

So last week, when a fellow pregnant friend invited me to join her at a prenatal yoga class, I jumped at the chance. Now let me preface this by saying, I am definitely not a yoga junkie by any means. I’ve taken a handful of classes in the past, but that’s about it. I’m not a granola eating, meditating, natural birthing kind of person. I’m typically the person who looks awkward in the back row attempting to bend myself into bizarre poses and trying not to laugh as the instructor tells me to take deep breaths and release my fears and worries through my fingertips (and other yoga nonsense that makes me giggle). They are constantly telling you to let your mind relax, not to think about anything except being in the moment, but c’mon. We’re moms, ladies. I’m making a mental grocery list and planning my son’s birthday party as I’m standing in warrior pose. But I digress.

So although I’m not yoga master, I really wanted to go. I mean, jury duty was thrilling and all, but I needed some legit “me time.” I trudged through the frozen tundra after work last Monday night and made it to class with a few minutes to spare. I was the first mom to arrive, and I have to admit, I was nervous. The studio was very small – there wasn’t going to be any hiding in the background. The class was going to be taught by a doula and I was slightly nervous she’d spend the entire time trying to convince me why I should attempt natural child birth and how to breathe through contractions sans epidural. And even more, there were a variety of props set up at each person’s spot – blankets, yoga blocks, a few fancy pillows. I had a feeling I was going to be in over my head with this class.

As the women arrived and we settled into the start of class, the doula welcomed everyone and spoke to each pregnant mom individually, asking us how we were feeling. I know what you are thinking – last week I was totally bitching about people asking the obligatory, “How are you feeling?” when they don’t really want or care to hear my answer. But this was different. She actually wanted to know how we were feeling. She asked what parts of our body were hurting, how we were sleeping. She offered some stretches and sleeping positions that might help our aching backs. It was amazing. It was so nice to spend 10-15 minutes talking about the physical challenges of pregnancy with other women and have them actually listen and understand. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as yoga-meditation-crazy as I had expected.

The rest of the class was just as amazing as the first few minutes. It was extremely relaxing, not at all strenuous, and really enjoyable. The instructor was helpful and showed us how to use all the props to modify poses without making me feel like I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to be doing. I still had trouble shutting off my mind and not making mental lists, but I have admit, there were a few minutes that I was able to actually “be in the moment.” LOL. That yoga-dialogue will always make me laugh.

During the last fifteen minutes of class, the instructor shut off the lights and played some quiet music. She gave each mom a short massage, complete with lavender oil and a killer neck rub. While I would normally feel SO awkward accepting a massage from a random doula I had just met an hour earlier, I didn’t hesitate at all. What pregnant mom is going to turn down massage?! Certainly not this tired Mama. And it was wonderful.

After all, I guess what I came to realize is this. Every parent – pregnant or not – needs some time away. I learned this fact back when my son was born, but between play dates and bedtimes, time can easily get away. Rule of thumb: If jury duty feels like a fucking vacation, then you need a vacation.

So if you find yourself relaxing during your latest dental cleaning, or you actually enjoyed waiting for two hours in your doctor’s office solely because you haven’t had two hours to put your feet up in months, then you are in desperate need of some “me time.” Schedule yourself a massage, go grocery shopping without your children, or plan a night out with hubby. You deserve it, ladies.

Top 5 Ways to Piss Off a Pregnant Lady

For a lot of women, pregnancy is a miraculous, joyful experience spent planning and preparing to welcome a tiny life into the world. Some women adore their growing baby bumps and revel in the attention that is sure to come their way by practically every stranger on the street. They read the breastfeeding books, attend all the baby care classes, and decorate beautiful nurseries all while sporting that gorgeous pregnancy glow. And then there are people like me – who are pretty much uncomfortable, awkward, and irritated for the majority of the nine months. I want to be one of those perfect pregnant ladies, but I can’t help but think that having another human inside my body is slightly strange and frankly, planning for a new baby is nothing short of seriously stressful in my book. Between trying not to pee my pants every time I sneeze and not being able to pour myself a glass of wine after a long ass day, I’m pretty much just annoyed the majority of the time.

And as if simply being pregnant isn’t challenging enough on its own, I’ve realized that the people around me are only adding to my annoyed attitude. So today, I want to share with you the five most annoying things that people say and do that only further piss off an already annoyed pregnant woman. Here goes.


1.) People who comment on my growing belly. At least a handful of people this week have commented on the fact that my baby bump is growing noticeably bigger. Thanks for stating the obvious, people. I’m six months along….. so… yeah, I’d say it’d be a major problem if I wasn’t getting bigger. But seriously, it makes me feel really awkward when people say shit like, “Oh, your baby bump is getting bigger!!!” Whether you’re my co-worker, my OBGYN at my latest monthly appointment, or some random ass stranger, I’d rather you didn’t share your opinions on my massive midsection.

2.) Random people who rub my belly. The only thing worse than people mentioning my expanding waistline is people who feel the need to actually touch it. I’m not walking around rubbing people’s beer guts, so I’m not sure why you feel the need to pat my belly because I’m pregnant. Not appropriate.

3.) People who share their labor horror stories. Listen, ladies. Let’s all make a pact to stop sharing the disastrous delivery stories. First of all, I’ve been through labor once before and I survived, so I don’t need to know the dirty details of how your own personal delivery when down. And secondly, if you can’t help yourself from discussing your own experience, then just fucking lie to me and tell me it was amazing. Let’s keep it positive and talk about how amazing epidurals are rather than comparing how many hours we all spent suffering through contractions before the anesthesiologist showed up. Am I right??

4.) People who ask me how I’m feeling. I know, I’m being a bitch here – and I know you mean well when you ask how I’m feeling. But most of the time, people who ask this question don’t actually want to know the answer. They ask it because they think it’s the polite thing to do. But do you really want to know how I’m feeling?? I mean, I guess I could be honest and start telling the entire world that I’m exhausted, sweaty, sore, cramping, achy, huge, and nauseous. Other than that, I’m fucking great.

5.) People who ask if we are going to try for a girl. For god’s sake people, let me push out baby boy number two before you start asking if we are going to have baby number three. I’m not even 100% convinced I’m capable of handling two children, so the fact that people are already asking if we are going to have another one is laughable. And even if we have a third child, the answer is NO – we are not “trying” for a girl. We are going to thank our lucky stars that so far, we will never have to face dealing with an emotional, hormone driven, drama-filled teenage daughter.

So there you have it. And while I’m sure there are many other things that I could continually add to this list of shit people do to piss me off on a regular basis, I’m going to stop there for the moment. And please, if you know someone who is pregnant, escape adding to her daily annoyance levels by avoiding the items on this list.

Life with a “Threenager”

I read an article the other day called “10 Signs You are Living with a Threenager.” If you aren’t familiar with the term “threenager,” just picture an irrational, raging, unreasonable, infuriating teenager inside of a tiny three year old body. Yup. Writer Kristen Hewitt hit the nail right on the head with this one. And after reading her article, I am most definite that we are embarking on the threenage years. God help me.

When my son was about 18 months old, I feared the approaching, so-called terrible twos. He was always such a sweet baby, but he was showing signs of stubbornness and persistence even then. I thought for sure we were totally screwed. But to my surprise, my sweet baby turned two last February and became this awesome, hilarious toddler that had so many funny things to say, and for the most part, was pretty easy to handle. He was still young enough in which he loved me more than life itself but old enough for me to be able to take him to do some really cool stuff – we spent our summer together playing outside, swimming, riding bikes; we even took him to play mini golf for the first time. It was a pretty awesome time. And it was somewhere during these enjoyable months that I became bat shit crazy and had the bright idea that because my son was so cool, we should definitely have another child. (Slow head shake).

Fast forward several months later. Mommy is currently six months pregnant and Grey is about three weeks shy of three years old. And it’s happening. My lovable, happy-go-lucky boy has slowly turned into an independent, bossy, know-it-all, relentless threeanger.

Here’s the moment I realized that age three was most definitely going to be more challenging than age two. He woke up from his nap, like any other day, asking for juice. Fine. Totally normal, besides his slightly demanding tone. I poured the kid a cup of OJ and handed it to him, which was followed by full on, toddler-crazed tantruming, ear-splitting screaming, and some pretty impressive flailing around. I’m pretty sure my jaw hit the floor as I watched what was happening before my eyes. After several minutes of deciphering the high-pitched shrieks, I realized that apparently, I had chosen the wrong cup. That’s right – all this insanity over the wrong fucking cup. Let the games begin.

What’s amazing is that these episodes are often mere minutes of possessed preschooler behavior before he quickly returns to his typical, easy going self – which is sometimes even more terrifying than the actual tantrums.

And tonight was no exception. My happily playing three year old turned into a total banshee at the mere mention of bath time. I’m so mind blown by the castastrophe that occurred that I won’t even go into the details, but picture my three year old attempting to trash the shit out of my bathroom while I stripped him and quickly tossed him into the shower just long enough to soap him up and drag him out. The neighbors probably thought I was attempting to torture someone in my tiny bathroom. Seriously, I was just trying to wash the Play Doh out of his hair, god forbid. Somewhere during this outrageous episode, I told him he wasn’t allowed to watch a TV show before bedtime due to his insane behavior, which just further infuriated his tiny threenage soul. After saying that, I had to chuckle to myself. I had just grounded my kid for the first time and he’s literally three years old. I’m so screwed.

After several similar incidents over the past few weeks, I came across Kristen’s article and it hit me. This is it. Buckle up everyone. Not only are we entering the threeange years, but in just four short months, there will be a newborn in this house as well. Say a prayer for me.