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Mommy Mid-Life Career Crisis

When I decided to quit my official “9am-5pm” day job, which was actually more of a “6:30am-7:00pm” all day/lots of evenings/sometimes weekends type gig, I really thought I was making the right decision. I felt like I was missing precious time that I’d always regret. I wanted to be the one to witness the first time my son rolled over, the first steps he took, and his first word – not his daycare teacher. When I took him to the pediatrician and they asked me about his schedule and his feedings, I hated that I wasn’t really sure considering he spent more waking hours with someone else over me. Especially since I was the Director of his daycare – I mean, it was like he was so close but I couldn’t be with him. I could hear him crying from my office, but I couldn’t be the one to console him. It was torture. So after five months back at work, I gave up my education career (temporarily) to spend more time with my son. I want to clarify – I didn’t give up “working.” Trust me – if anything – I am working harder now than I ever have in my life.

In order to leave my position and to supplement our income, I took a job nannying two other children 28 hours a week in their home, with the condition that Greyson could come with me. When I left my “full time” job, I didn’t realize that I had no idea what full-time meant. Motherhood is not a full-time job. It’s all day, all night, every weekend, and every holiday. No personal time, no vacation days, no sick days. And when your husband works 10 hours a day and travels often, you are number one. There’s no under study, no back up dancers in this number. You are the star of the show in the eyes of your little one. I don’t have the luxury of family nearby, so a lot of the time, I am on my own. Not to mention that everyone considers nannying a side job – just “babysitting,” which makes me cringe. If I hear one more person make a comment about how nice it is that I don’t have to work, I might lose it. Just to clue you in, caring for three kids 28 hours a week is definitely work. Try it – my guess is that you’d throw in the towel somewhere between toddler tantrums, non-existent naptimes, and baby blowouts.

So here I am. Having a Mommy Mid-Life Career Crisis. Was it the right decision to leave my job? To trade in my Master’s degree to be on 24-Mommy Duty? To give up a teaching career in order to change diapers and clean up toys? I read the title of an article the other day that asked, “What would it mean to you to have it all?” As a mother, I honestly don’t think it is possible to have it all. No matter what you choose you are going to sacrifice a small part of something else. I think I just have to remember that giving up a little bit of me right now is going to mean gaining so much as a mother in the long run. And maybe, we just have to accept that “having it all” isn’t realistic. A little time at home, a little time at work, a little time with your partner – maybe having it all is really just finding a way to have a little bit of everything.

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I told you so.

You might think that you will be the kind of parent who won’t give in to your child to stop their tantrums. But someday, when you find yourself letting them hold the dog bowl while you pull them around in a sled on your hardwood floors, I won’t even say “I told you so.”

Good News!

Good news!!! I’m expecting…. a new domain name, that is!!! And an awesome, new design as well. The new site will hopefully be set up before next week!! Stay Tuned!

Mom Jeans

About this time last year, I was gearing up for the biggest event of my life – welcoming our first child into our family. I worried about some really “important” things, like if my epidural was going to kick in before delivery, if I was going to poop on the labor table, if I had remembered to pack my chapstick. Maybe worrying about these random things helped me to avoid thinking about the actual important things, like if the baby was going to be healthy. Anyways, one thing that was on my mind, and I’m sure is on the mind of most extremely pregnant women is getting back into my pre-pregnancy jeans. I’m not even kidding, I had dreams about fitting into those skinny jeans again someday.

 In the beginning, I couldn’t wait to have a cute pregnant belly. When my favorite jeans no longer buttoned, I used a hair tie to hook the button into the hole, which gave me a little stretch. Unfortunately, the day came when that no longer cut it. My thighs were expanding, my butt was bigger – it’s not just the waistline that is affected. When I went out shopping for maternity clothes, I have to say, I was not impressed. There is seriously only one store near me that carries maternity clothes. ONE. So let’s just say the selection was limited. I took hand-me-downs from anyone that offered them. My sister, my sister-in-law, my neighbor’s older sister’s best friend. You name  it – I was accepting donations. The trunk of my car looked like a mini-version of the Goodwill donation box. You can probably imagine some of the items I ended up with. And guess what, I saved them to pass on to my next lucky friend to get pregnant. They are going to get a good laugh out of some of this crap. Or maybe they will wear them, in which case we’d have to end our friendship.

About 36 weeks pregnant is when things start going downhill. How could I possibly find clothing to fit my ungodly shape when I literally hadn’t even seen my feet in weeks? At this point, even my husband’s oversized hoodies didn’t fit. By 39 weeks, the only thing that fit comfortably was my bathrobe. Untied. Luckily, I didn’t own a full length mirror while pregnant, but I did catch a glimpse of myself in the large mirror above my fireplace while walking downstairs one night and it wasn’t pretty. I really don’t understand why people have photos taken at this point in their pregnancy. Especially those women who have bare belly photos or even crazy naked photos taken. I had pregnancy photos taken at like 7 months along when I still looked like a human.

I think you get the point here. I couldn’t WAIT to wear clothing in the size that I had been pre-baby. I absolutely refused to buy any pants until I reached my pre-pregnancy weight. I didn’t realize how challenging that was going to be considering I have been a range of about 18 different sizes since the beginning of this whole escapade. But this past month, I’ve been hovering around my goal. So I decided to reward myself by purchasing a pair of new, expensive jeans. I wouldn’t call this experiencing rewarding exactly….…   Read on.

I enter the mall, which I have hardly been to since before pregnancy, and I realize that jeans now cost at least twice as much as  they used to. Also, jeans are no longer sized in like 4,6,8,10. It’s all 26, 27, 28, 31… plus they are all marked either 27a, 28t, 29r. When the hell did jeans’ sizes become a math equation? After two full hours of trying on about 8000 pairs of jeans in at least 6 different stores, it finally came to me. This experience – this exact moment – is why “mom jeans” happen. What mother has time to walk around the mall for two hours trying on thousands of things in order to find the perfect fit? No one. The smart mother would have walked into Kohls, grabbed the first pair that she was able to pull on over her newly shaped post-baby body and walked out. Who the hell cares what they look like? I mean, anything is an improvement from the untied bathrobe you’ve been rocking the past few months. My patient husband put up with my tantrums from store to store until I finally found a pair that I was satisfied with. I can’t say that they are the perfect fit, but I am hoping they are at least a step up from my thrift store looking threads that I’ve been flaunting. It seems as though I’ve purchased my first pair of jeans since becoming a mother and I’ve successfully avoided “mom jeans.” At least for now.

SNL features MOM JEANS

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I knew when I took this picture of Grey, it looked so familiar……

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http://thehonestmommy.com/2013/02/05/i-knew-when-i-took-this-picture-of-grey-it-looked/

So unfortunately, the guys at the booth behind us are being subjected to “I’m Elmo and I know it” (which is hilarious, by the way) but trust me, it’s way better than the alternative. Which would be a screaming baby. So, your welcome. Enjoy your meal.

#Mommy loves #Elmo for keeping you busy at restaurants.

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http://thehonestmommy.com/2013/02/03/so-unfortunately-the-guys-at-the-booth-behind-us/

Quality time with the hubby used to be a romantic dinner and some cocktails. Now, we spend out evenings having Mega Blocks Building Contests. I think my replica of the family dog is way better than his airplane. Just saying.

#megablocks and #datenight are one in the same.

http://thehonestmommy.com/2013/02/02/quality-time-with-the-hubby-used-to-be-a-romantic/

Mommy Rehab

It’s finally Friday. Nobody in our household has thrown up since Tuesday. I’d call that a success. After a week full of stomach viruses and sleepless nights, I have started feeling like a very overtired mama. I was thinking last night that I could desperately use a night away to get a solid 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. During several nights this week, between my husband, the baby, and the dog, someone is constantly crying, puking, walking around, or snoring. Regardless of any of this, I am still responsible for getting up taking care of a baby (and the two gems I nanny for), laundry, not to mention trying to sterilize my entire house to clear us of this damn flu.

If I can manage all of this on little to no sleep, imagine what I’d be capable of doing if I could log 12 hours. I bet it would be some seriously impressive shit.

A small part of me actually hoped that I’d come down with the flu just so I could have a good excuse to lie down for a few hours. Then, I remembered that even if I got the flu, I’d still be responsible for all of the same things. My husband was already home from work this week so there’s no way that he’d be able to take any more time off. Apparently, when I accepted the position of Mother, I didn’t realize that sick days, personal time, vacation days, (and salary….) were not included in the contract.

Then, another solution occurred to me. How many times has Lindsay Lohan gone to rehab for exhaustion? And she doesn’t even have children. Come to think of it, has she even worked since Mean Girls? What the hell is this chick so exhausted from? I suppose being constantly drunk and publicly humiliating would be somewhat tiring. Anyways, what does it take to get a ticket to rehab for exhaustion? I think taking care of a vomiting husband and a vomiting baby should definitely qualify me as exhausted. Now don’t get me wrong – I’m not trying to glorify or mock rehab in any way. I am dead serious when I say that every mother could totally use some time away.

My stint in rehab would include the following:

          Spa treatments.

          Massages.

          Reality TV.

          Wine. A lot of wine.

          No access to my cell phone.

          Room service.

          Fitness Classes.

          A large Do Not Disturb sign.

If you had three days to check in at Mommy Rehab, what would your perfection prescription be? A quiet room? Netflix? A good book to read?  We should probably take a lesson from Lindsay Lohan and start getting obnoxiously drunk and irresponsible in public. Maybe then we’d get diagnosed with exhaustion and get a ticket to Malibu for a long weekend away.

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