The Honest Mommy

My husband has a really amazing job that he loves, which is totally tough to come by in this day and age. We are so lucky that not only is he employed, but that he enjoys what he does and he gets paid enough for me to work only four days a week at a job where I can bring Greyson with me. Unfortunately, his job requires him to travel somewhere between 1-2 months per year. Before I had a child, I didn’t mind his traveling at all. It was like a little me-time vacation to have dinner with the girls or to stay home and catch up on Keeping up with the Kardashians. However, after Grey was born, his traveling became a little less of a vacation and little bit more like mommy overtime hours.

When my husband is getting ready to leave, I have to mentally prepare myself for tackling my parenting solo act for several days and nights. I mean, there are women who raise children by themselves so clearly I should be able to handle a few days. When he calls me from wherever the hell he is that particular trip (which I can rarely keep track of), I give him a nice little speech about how we can get through it, it’s not that bad, and it’s just a few days. Then I hang up and attempt to believe that what I just told him is true.

On the first night, I convince myself that I am a positive, supportive wife and mother who can handle anything. I can not only take care of the baby while nannying for two other children during the day, but I can also keep the house clean and maybe even toss in a load of laundry after the baby goes to bed.

I have a few rules that I attempt to stick by on a normal day. I typically try to keep it to two cups of coffee. I try to encourage the baby to eat new foods and to have some veggies. I limit TV to a little in the morning and a little before bed. However, by day two on solo duty, I slowly begin breaking these rules one by one. I pour myself a large glass of wine and turn on the television. A little extra Elmo never killed anyone, right?

By day three, all hell breaks loose. At this time, I am usually exhausted from getting up with Grey during the night by myself. I typically look like a strung out, crack head mommy from the amount of caffeine I’ve consumed in the last three days. The baby wears PJ’s for the majority of the day because I’m too worn out for a little dressing wrestling match. On night number three, I opt for a making a strong cocktail over cooking a meal. I let Grey eat toast and yogurt for dinner in front of the television that has been streaming Sesame Street for several hours.

I can’t imagine how people that parent alone at all times get through more than three days without losing their sanity. Maybe it’s because I am with my child and two others all day that makes it difficult. I am literally on the mommy clock at all times for several days straight. Maybe it’s because I don’t have family close by that can stop over and give me a break – or at least give me another person to talk to. Not that I don’t love talking to Greyson, but he can only answer me with a total of about four words (dog, more, please, all done…).

Now that you have an idea of what three days and nights look like at my house when I’m alone, you can imagine what happens after that. It’s a slow progression towards parenting pandemonium. My husband’s next trip is planned to span five days. My mom decided to take her vacation time from work and  to come into town to stay with me while he’s gone. And thank God for that. By day five, I’m afraid I would be doomed to overdose on caffeine, cocktails, and Elmo on DVR.

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Grey played with toys for a total of two minutes today. Hence, the short post.

A Day in the Life: A Mommy Haiku

Diapers and bottles

Chasing a busy toddler

Is it bedtime yet?

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Remember those peaceful mornings in your previous (kids-free) lifetime when you could take a hot shower, try on several outfits before choosing the most stylish one, and spend the better part of an hour doing your hair and makeup without interruptions? Ah, those were the days. As you already know, running the household is a full-time job that starts the minute you wake up in the morning and lasts until you lay your head down on the pillow at night—that is, if your kids will allow you to sleep a whole night through! In the daily rush to make sure diapers get changed, lunches get prepared and packed, and the older kids get to and from school and extracurricular activities on-time, you probably aren’t left with a lot of spare time to get ready in the mornings. Why should you care, anyway? Most of your time outside of the house is spent running errands or playing taxi, not going to high profile work lunches or fancy dinner dates.

But making sure you look your best on a shopping trip or school run can actually be a major confidence booster. The old saying “if you look good, then you feel good” certainly applies here. Let’s face it: stepping out in your track suit or pajamas and a pair of tennis shoes will leaving you feeling disheveled, scruff, and a bit down in the dumps, while slipping into a nice blouse and a pair of fitted jeans instantly makes you feel (and look) more put-together. You don’t necessarily have to buy a whole new wardrobe each season to look stylish, either: investing in some staple pieces like a no-iron cotton blouse, cardigan, pair of dark wash jeans, slim black pants, and a few figure-flattering dresses and skirts can go a long way in helping you to creating a polished look. Want to update your wardrobe to incorporate the latest trends? Test them out on your accessories first. Choosing a comfortable shoe or handbag with in this season’s hottest color or fabric choice can be a great way to make a statement when you step outside—without the hassle!

As for the kids, their wardrobe requires a bit of extra consideration as well. The right threads can help your children express their individuality and boost their confidence amongst their peers. It can also be a fun way to introduce them to new shapes, patterns, and materials, as kids’ clothes tend to be much more playful than the adult variety. This season, the hottest looks for kids include throwbacks to the ‘60s and the ‘70s, as well as bold colors (poppy red, sunshine yellow, nectarine) and geometric prints. Browse the kids clothes from AlexandAlexa to see the latest looks from designer children’s wear brands that are sure to get your kids excited about what they’re wearing.

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Who needs baby gates when your kid is stuck in a sauce pot? 

As a mother, I am beginning to realize that I have embraced several new roles in my life, including “housewife,” “milk machine,” and “bottle washer.” Most recently, I’ve accepted the position of “entertainment committee.” At 14 months, Greyson is at an age where he will play independently for a total of about ten minutes if I’m lucky before returning to swinging from my pant legs and begging for my attention. Generally, when he is occupied, I try to utilize every second to do as much as possible. I can pull this off for a short time before my motherly guilt returns and I feel bad for ignoring him in order to get a few things done. On the other hand, if I am folding laundry washing dishes, or surfing Twitter (you know, all of the important things that work-at-home moms do…) and it’s quiet in the playroom, it’s pretty safe to assume that he’s doing something naughty. Somehow, I ended up with a kid who is like the poster child for getting into all things dangerous. When I set him down on the floor, I swear he sniffs out the outlets. There can be 300 toys in the room but he’d prefer to find the nearest lamp and attempt to knock it over. If you have lost something that could be considered a choking hazard, I can almost guarantee that you will find it in my child’s mouth.

Because of this, one of the most challenging times of day for me is while trying to cook dinner. At this point of the day, Grey is tired and hungry and completely reliant on the entertainment committee to keep him occupied. Since I can’t trust him out of my sight for more than three seconds, I’ve resorted to unlocking at least one cabinet in the kitchen for him to play in while I (attempt to) cook. I’m unsure of why we spend any money at all on toys when a cabinet full of Tupperware could entertain the kid for days. When he gets bored of that, I let him play the drums on my Caphalon pots and pans. One night, he even realized that my sauce pot is big enough for him to sit inside. Whatever keeps you contained, kid. And after he lost interest in that, I opened the fridge and let him scope out the contents. I’m pretty sure he spent 15 minutes reorganizing the condiment shelves. Looks like he inherited his daddy’s self-diagnosed OCD after all. He may even have gotten a taste of a few things before I realized he was capable of popping the tops open. Turns out he likes ketchup and mustard. Good to know, I guess.

So at that time of day when your child is tired of their toys, bust out some Tupperware and a wooden spoon and let baby go to town. Surprisingly, kitchenware makes for good childproofing, too. Who needs baby gates when your kid is stuck in the sauce pot? And if you’re lucky, your child will be as anal as mine and might even reorganize your fridge for you while you cook dinner. Not a bad deal at all.

Baby OCD: Reorganizing the shelves in my fridge.

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Before becoming a parent, I enjoyed late night dinners downtown and Friday evening happy hours with friends. As a mother, I spend my Saturday afternoons hitting Target to stock up on diapers and researching the latest video monitors on the internet. Awesome, right? Mommy Hobbies are definitely different than what I did prior to parenthood.

With that being said, becoming a mother doesn’t mean that I’ve totally lost interest in the things I used to enjoy doing. In fact, I’ve learned that it’s imperative to find a way to incorporate my hobbies into my day-to-day parenting. Otherwise, I’ve realized that it’s very easy to lose yourself to feeding schedules and bed routines.

In my previous post called Mommy Hobbies, I shared a little bit about some of my passions prior to parenting. Surprisingly, despite my wine drinking and cigarette smoking days, I love to be active and exercise. When I became pregnant, I gave up my gym membership for baby making. After 40 long weeks, I couldn’t wait to return to running as soon as the doctor cleared me. And boy, did I start running. Running around like a mommy with my head cut off. Breastfeeding, diaper changing, bottle washing, coffee drinking, etc. You get the idea.

While I wasn’t always fitting in a traditional workout, I quickly realized that mothers do not need gym memberships in order to be active. To all of you pregnant women and new mothers out there, I will tell you the secret to getting into shape. Simply have the baby. Then, you will officially be starting the Mommy Workout Plan. Just to warn you, this isn’t a three times per week plan. This is an every day, every waking moment, every attempting-to-sleep minute, 24/7/365 workout regime. And by the way, this workout is accompanied by the “I don’t have time to eat” diet. While performing the Mommy Workout, you are guaranteed to lose weight, get in shape, and run yourself ragged. Enjoy. Here it is:

The Mommy Workout Plan:

Midnight Warm Up – Warms ups are performed before exercising in order to prepare muscles and increase heart rate. Mommy’s Midnight Warm Ups look something like this. Wake up. Make a bottle. Run to the baby’s room. Feed him, then rock him back and forth, bounce him up and down, whatever his preference, for at least 15 minutes. Repeat rocking as necessary until baby falls back to sleep. Depending on how old your baby is, you may complete several reps of this warm up throughout the night.

Mommy’s Morning Circuit Training – “Circuit training is a form of resistance training using high-intensity aerobics. It targets strength building and muscular endurance. An exercise “circuit” is one completion of all prescribed exercises in the program. When one circuit is complete, one begins the first exercise again for the next circuit. Traditionally, the time between exercises in circuit training is short, often with rapid movement to the next exercise.”  Mommy’s Morning Circuits include showers, getting dressed, packing lunches, making breakfast and herding children/husbands out of the door. Each circuit will take at least 10-12 minutes. Mommy’s Morning Circuits are intensely aerobic. If your makeup is sweating off your face by the time you walk out the door, you’ve completed the circuits successfully.

Mommy’s Toning Tactics – Toning exercises are meant to develop physique and increase leanness, creating muscle definition and shape. Don’t worry – you won’t need to purchase any equipment for these exercises. As long as you have a shitload of laundry, a car full of groceries, and a heavy toddler who prefers to be carried everywhere, you’re set. There are innumerable amount of toning exercises you can try, but here’s a few to get you started.

• Mommy Squats – While holding your toddler who refuses to be put down, bend and pick up all of the toys, cups, and other crap that are constantly lying all over your floor.
• Laundry Lifts – Stuff your laundry basket as full as possible. Carry it down two flights of stairs. In one hour, return downstairs to switch to dryer. Carry full laundry basket back up two flights of stairs. You can modify this to become more challenging by carrying your child up and down the stairs with you. You will most likely repeat laundry lifts for at least two loads per day (more reps for larger families).
• Crouch and Reach – If you are a parent, you are most likely aware that there are least 200 toys underneath any given piece of furniture in your house. The behind/under the couch is literally a black hole. Bend and reach at least twice a week to search underneath all furniture to keep up on lost toys.
• Baby Bicep Curls – Get a good bicep burn by lifting baby 3000 times per day for various reasons (in and out of high chair, in and out of car, in and out of crib, and so on).

Child Chasing Cardio – When there are several children in the house, chances are you will be chasing one, carrying one, and changing one at all times. I’m not even kidding that I wore a pedometer once and I walked something like five or six miles in eight hours. Taking care of kids is pretty much like owning a treadmill. You are always moving but never getting anywhere.

Wine Down Time – The cool down is a crucial part of every work out. Cooling down allows the body to return to a resting state. To end your Mommy Workout each night, enjoy a little Wine Down Time by indulging in a large glass of vino. After a particularly challenging day, enjoy the whole damn bottle and get a few hours of shut eye before starting all over again at Midnight Warm Ups.

Occasionally, I wish I had the time go to the gym and get on the treadmill. But most days, I feel like I’ve already run a marathon by bedtime. Even though it’s not typical training, I still feel proud of that. So there it is. The reason why moms don’t need gym memberships is because parenting alone is damn good exercise.

Circuit Training. Retrieved from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Circuit_training on April 2, 2013.

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Initially, this was planned to be one post. But after I began writing, I realized that I was rambling far too much to fit everything in. So, this is part one of a two part post. Enjoy this first piece, called Mommy Hobbies and stay tuned for part two, Why Moms Don’t Need Gym Memberships.

Before having a baby, I had a life. I had hobbies that didn’t include playing with toys. After seeing some of the shit that I can build with Legos and Play-Doh, I know that’s pretty shocking. You’d think I’d been perfecting these skills my entire life. But surprisingly, in my childless days, I spent my free time doing adult things like shopping, reading, drinking wine, and running.

One of the things I miss most about the freedom of pre-parenthood life is my gym membership. After work, my husband and I would meet at the gym and spend an hour and a half working off all of the cocktails and fancy dinners that we enjoyed indulging in on the weekends (and sometimes, on the week days, too). Exercising is something that has always been important to me. I enjoy living an active lifestyle and I love the feeling after a really kick ass session in the gym. I’ve always played sports and working out is a great way to relieve stress and stay healthy.

In 2011, my husband got me a new membership to the gym for my birthday. I know, some women might take that offensively, but I loved the gym and they offered some awesome classes that I wanted to check out. When you join, typically you meet with a trainer during your first visit. I spoke with this guy, James, who talked to me about my fitness goals. My husband and I had run a half-marathon in 2010 and I wanted to keep up with running. Then, about two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. I totally wanted to be one of those pregnant ladies who worked out consistently and stayed in shape, within reasonable guidelines, of course. I quickly learned that during the first three month of pregnancy, the only thing that I was able to focus on was staying awake. The thought of going to the gym after a nine hour work day was laughable.

A few months later, when I started to feel a little less tired and a little more motivated, I went back to the gym. I took some Yoga classes and walked on the treadmill. I ran into James one day and he commented that he hadn’t seen me in a while and asked how my running was going. Well, James, I’ve been busy creating a human life, so running has taken a back-seat for a little while.

A month before Grey was born, I went to the store to buy a new pair of running shoes. Now granted, I was wearing a large winter coat, but I’d say that I was pretty visibly pregnant at this point. I asked an employee for some help picking out a comfortable, light weight pair of running sneakers. Apparently, this guy was either just completely oblivious or stoned because he asked me about how far I was running and if I was training for anything specific. I laughed, and told him at the moment, I wasn’t running at all considering I was eight months pregnant. But very soon, I’d be training for motherhood. For running around my house all day on no sleep. For eventually chasing a very mobile toddler. And for hopefully, eventually returning to one of my own hobbies, running.

For someone who considers themselves an athlete, there is nothing worse than feeling out of breath after climbing the stairs. At 40 weeks pregnant, I could hardly walk around at work without needing a break. After Greyson was born, I was never more excited to work out. I couldn’t wait for the doctor to clear me so that I could finally get back on my feet again. I had three months left on that gym membership and I was determined to use it. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to the gym. I realized that my time was extremely limited. I realized that physically recovering from child birth was taking longer than I expected. I realized that my hobbies weren’t important anymore.

As the months passed, I came to one further realization. Even though I wasn’t going to the gym, I was slowly getting stronger and losing weight. I was very slowly returning to my pre-baby weight and getting back into shape. How, you ask??? Stay tuned for Part II: Why Moms Don’t Need a Gym Membership.

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Yesterday, after a very long weekend and an even longer sleepless night, I was searching for things to do to keep Greyson entertained for the day. After our morning play date and our afternoon painting session, I was losing steam. We decided to head out to our local bookstore, one of my favorite places, that has an awesome children’s section. And they have train tables which keep Grey busy for like 30 minutes. When we got there, another mother was sitting by the train tables, sipping a coffee while her son played. We introduced ourselves and started chatting. We talked about so many things – toddler tantrums, milestones, work, travel, day care. For a few minutes, I felt like a normal person – not just a mother who was struggling to stay awake and entertain her child. Eventually, Greyson’s attention span began to dwindle and we said our goodbyes. I felt refreshed and happier. It’s amazing – the connection between two women when you have just one simple thing in common – motherhood.

Before having a child, I’m pretty sure that I never talked to strangers. I wasn’t one of those people that felt  the need to strike up a conversation with the cashier in the checkout line at the grocery store. I wasn’t unfriendly, I just wasn’t interested. (Wait, is that unfriendly?) Anyways, I entered stores, went about my business, and went home. It’s that easy, too, when you aren’t lugging a child around with you. Wow – I miss that. However, when I became noticeably pregnant, all of a sudden I realized that I was no longer invisible to people. Other pregnant women smiled at me like we were old friends. Mothers with small children looked at me with pity like I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Everyone wants to ask you when you are due and whether you are having a boy or a girl. It only gets worse as you get bigger. I remember sometime close to my due date, I went out to dinner with my husband and two of our friends. My stomach was so unnaturally large at that point – I felt like an exhibit at a science museum. I think if you looked closely enough, you could see my 9lb2oz child’s elbows and knees booting me in the belly. It’s a miracle and all, whatever, but it’s gross. As I was walking through the bar of the restaurant to find the restroom (which is so cliché, pregnant lady, looking for the bathroom), it was like the parting of the Red Sea. The crowd just moved out of my way. Every man in the bar offered me their seat. I mean, it was nice and everything, but it was embarrassing. I was looking forward to returning to my invisible, un-pregnant, only-one-person self.

As it turns out, when you have a newborn, strangers still want to talk to you. Newborns are not that uncommon….I didn’t understand why everyone felt the need to obsess over him. Women wanted to know his age and his name. Grandmothers were showing me pictures of their grandbabies. Pregnant ladies asked me how it was going and where I delivered the baby. At some point, I realized that rather than trying to avoid this attention, I should just embrace it. Hell, before long, the baby would be a screaming toddler and people would be trying to avoid sitting next to us in restaurants. And so, I gave in. Every now and again, I not only answered strangers’ questions, I even engaged in a little conversation.

Throughout my maternity leave and after deciding to stay at home with Greyson, I realized that there is a lack of conversation and engaging interaction when you spend the majority of your time with a very tiny baby that generally communicates via cooing and screaming. All of a sudden, I was becoming one of those people that sought out other women in the library or in the parking lot to have a few minutes of mindful conversation with another adult.

Now, I am slowly realizing that finding a place to connect with other moms is one of the healthiest and most enjoyable things that I can do for myself. It’s amazing that you can have a conversation about more important things in the first 30 minutes of meeting another mother than you might be able to talk about to your closest friend who doesn’t have children about. That doesn’t mean that I don’t absolutely love my friends who aren’t parents, but it’s different. Sometimes, you just need someone who understands without having to try to explain yourself.

In the past, I would have done almost anything to avoid random conversations with strangers. However, in becoming a mother, I have learned that chatting with strangers might be the only conversation you have for the next several hours that doesn’t involve talking about eating your veggies, asking who has the stinky diaper, and threatening time outs.

So to all of you expecting mothers out there who are confused why random women are bothering you, just wait. When your baby is about 6-8 weeks old and you haven’t spoken to an adult besides your husband in four days, meet us at the grocery store or the library or the book shop. We will be ready and willing to introduce ourselves, buy you a coffee, and catch up like the old friends you never knew you had. In the meantime, you should totally take advantage of people moving out of your way and men giving up their seats because those days are numbered, ladies.

If you can’t manage to make it out of your house to connect with other moms, join us in the Day Drinking and Diaper Changing Facebook Group for some amazing support and hilarious ranting.

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Just a little disclaimer – Lots of ranting, lots of swearing. Apologies in advance.

I was so damn happy to leave the house today that I realized as I pulled into the gas station that I had forgotten my purse. Fuck. I turned around and headed back towards home. Sometimes, it seems like the universe just doesn’t want me to ever spend any time alone.

This morning, I think I was dangerously close to having a mommy meltdown. I’m not exactly sure what a mommy meltdown would entail, but I think it would involve a lot of crying and a lot of wine. I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept and battling a killer migraine. Not a good combination when the baby is screaming at 5:15am. I usually consider myself a relatively put together and patient person, but today, I was more like an irritated mommy and a raging wife. It doesn’t happen often and I felt guilty for acting that way. . I thought to myself, what’s wrong with me today?

Well, let me tell you what’s wrong with me today.

I feel like I am in desperate need of a break. After thinking about it, I realized that I the last time I left the house alone was over two weeks ago. It was a Saturday – I went to go get my haircut. My hairdresser is about 1 mile down the road from my house and she works quickly. I begged her to take her time so that I could utilize every second out of the house as possible. She finished in about forty minutes. Not long enough. Maybe next time, I will color my hair just to guarantee two hours at the salon. I might even switch salons to add about 15 minutes of driving time in the car by myself.

Come to think of it, I did leave the house alone for a few minutes on Friday. My husband had his wisdom teeth pulled (Yup – More on that later). After I got Greyson down for his afternoon nap, I ran to the grocery store to fill my husband’s prescription. The pharmacy at the grocery store has a little lounge where you can sit and read a magazine or watch TV while you wait. After about 10 minutes, the pharmacist came over and asked me if I needed something. I explained that I was all set; I had already paid for the prescription. I just wanted to sit there watch the news for a few minutes before going home. What’s that honey, there were supposed to be 20 pills of Vicodin? I swear, they only gave me 18…

It doesn’t help that Greyson has been sick for about two weeks. The only two places I have been besides work this week is the pediatrician and the pharmacy. He started on a prescription last weekend that seems to be helping. However, ordering a drug for a 13 month old that can’t be taken within four hours of having anything with calcium in it is pretty absurd. Thanks, doc. You realize that probably 75% of my child’s daily calorie intake comes from milk, right? Why not just add another obstacle into my little mommy life? No biggie.

By Wednesday, he was sleeping through the night again and his cough was slowing down. But, low and behold – by Thursday, the little girl I nanny for had come down with the same thing. By the way, the only thing worse than taking care of your own sick child is taking care of someone else’s sick child.

And then, Friday rolled around. Teeth extraction day for my husband. I have to admit, I was pretty worried about how he was going to handle it. I’ve had teeth pulled in the past and it’s not walk in the fucking park. He actually thought he might be ale to go back to work afterwards. But as I expected, he was pretty laid up. I really want to be a doting wife – I want to be like my mother who I think actually enjoys having people to take care of. Unfortunately, I just can’t handle one more person to be responsible for right now. After about 48 hours, I think I almost said something like, “Go mix your own fucking salt water rinse. It’s your mouth, not your legs that are in pain, right?” I’ve come to realize that after having a child, I am even more unsympathetic than ever. Ladies, you should have a baby just so that you can use this phrase against your husband when he has a man cold or whatever other ailments he complains about – “It can’t be as bad as pregnancy and childbirth.”

You’d think with my husband traveling for work so often and without having any family here to help me, taking care of the baby by myself for a few days while he healed wouldn’t be a big deal. What I didn’t really take into account was that I would need to take care of him, too. Turns out I don’t make a great nurse. Sorry, honey.

Thank god, for everyone’s sake, I made it out of the house this afternoon for an hour or two alone to collect my thoughts. Sorry for subjecting you all to this venting, but bitching about it makes me feel so much better. So, thanks for reading, if you made it this far through my long, mommy rant. On my way home, I better stop and pick up a box of tissues and a couple of bottles of wine just in case I decide to have a mommy meltdown later today after all.

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Have you ever seen the show Dance Moms? If you have not, I don’t recommend it. It’s trashy, completely ridiculous, and totally addicting. The show revolves around several mothers who are supporting their daughters as they pursue dancing careers at a young age. Not only are these women dramatic and high strung, but they are back-stabbing, self serving bitches. And for the most part, I think they are proud of it. They are “best friends” who’d throw each other to the wolves if meant their daughter would succeed over the others. While I love to totally believe that all of my reality TV shows are complete and utter truth, I realize that this shit is probably fake. But what I am trying to get at here is that while this show might not be completely real, all of us have a little bit of Dance Moms in us at heart. Let me explain.

I hate to knock my gender here, but as a breed, women are naturally catty, gossipy, overly sensitive, dramatic, bitchy, jealous and competitive – should I keep going? It starts at a very early age. I used to teach in a Universal Pre-Kindergarten classroom and even at four years old, these girls were nasty. At that age, the absolute worst thing you could ever say to another girl was say, “Oh yeah?! Well you aren’t coming to my birthday party.” No joke – One of the posted rules in my room banned any talk of birthday parties because the girls used this as leverage to leave others out. If I had a nickel for every time a girl in my classroom said, “You are not my friend anymore,” I would have quit my job a lot sooner. I haven’t decided if girls are just born with this innate need to terrorize each other or if it is a learned behavior. Thank God, I don’t have a daughter so hopefully I won’t need to find out. When Matt and I were in the ultrasound room and learned the gender of our unborn child, I think I cried tears of blessed joy to find out it was a boy. Not because I don’t want a little girl, but because I don’t want to have to deal with my precious daughter being subjected to the viciousness of other girls – or even worse, actually become one of those cruel little creatures.

And then, there is high school. Forget algebra and earth science, girls are busy researching how to form cliques and hold grudges. They are studying how to give the silent treatment and mastering passive aggressive behavior. All  high school girls are amateur actresses, learning how to plaster fake smiles on their faces when their friends get a date with the hottest football player or get nominated for prom queen.

I’d love to blame this absurd behavior on immaturity and pettiness. I’d love to say that as women become adults, they realize that we should ban together and support one another. But unfortunately, it isn’t so. I honestly think it gets worse as we get older. There’s a whole new realm of issues that come into play. Woman feel pressured to have successful careers, find a husband, and have babies. They compare themselves to their friends and feel left behind if everything hasn’t fallen into place exactly as they’ve planned. I swear, women choose horrible bridesmaid dresses simply because they want to guarantee that they are the most beautiful person in that wedding party. They subconsciously want their friends to look like fools. Seriously, this can be the only explanation for some of the really bad bridesmaid dresses I’ve seen.

Because of all this, I have no idea why I thought it’d be any different when I became a mother. It turns out, motherhood is also a very competitive sport. I took Greyson to the doctor this weekend and as usual, he was running around getting into everything. He was trying to escape from the waiting room into the exam rooms and rummaging through all the toys. I noticed a mother lingering nearby, holding a little boy. Her husband was a few feet back, sitting on the bench waiting for their appointment. She finally asked, “How old is he?” I replied, “13 months.” She immediately looked back at her husband, then said something about how her son was the same age and was mobile but that she didn’t want to put him down and let him get into all of the dirty toys. Seriously, lady? So not only are you spending your time comparing your sick child to mine, you then have to drop a very casual dig about how I am letting my child play with “dirty doctor’s office toys?” Every week, we go to story time at the library and it’s the same shit. It’s not even just the mothers – the grandmothers are the worst! This grandmother made some comment to me about how her grandson doesn’t walk but says 18 words. I’m not saying that I am completely innocent of the mompetition. I get it – you just want to make sure your child is keeping up. But I honestly believe that my son will be under enough pressure in his life to succeed that I am trying to make a valid effort to let him develop at the rate that suits him. Whatever milestones he hits or doesn’t hit, I will be proud of. Whatever percentile of height and weight he reaches, we will be happy with. As mothers, let’s break the cycle of spiteful female ways and teach our children to accept themselves and in turn, accept each other.

Before you brag about your child to a fellow mother, just remember that there is a very fine line between being proud and being competitive. I know, I know we are all guilty of it now and again. And on second thought, maybe I will recommend you watch a few episodes of Dance Moms. Maybe watching some ridiculous, over the top, backstabbing mommas will help keep us grounded. And in the mean time, just to be safe, I will continue to pray that my future second child is in fact, another boy.

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The Daily Grind: On Wednesdays, we watch the garbage truck.

As the Director of a child care center, I was responsible for 13 classrooms of children ranging in age from 6 weeks – 12 years old. I had a staff of about 25 teachers and a long list of responsibilities on my shoulders. Of course, I had my usual daily grind tasks like touring prospective parents, managing my staff, enrolling new families, and so on. In addition, I had tasks set for specific days of the week. On Mondays I submitted payroll. On Tuesdays, I started classroom observations. On Wednesdays, I worked on writing the teachers’ schedules. On Thursdays, I checked billing. It was fast paced and very busy. I had a million administrative responsibilities, but was also responsible for spending ample about of time in my teachers’ classrooms. On top of that, chatting with parents and building relationships with the attending families was crucial. I worked really hard and I think I did the best that I could. Before having children, I devoted everything to my job. My husband and I both worked long hours because we loved what we were doing. And then, I got pregnant.

During the first trimester, I was so completely exhausted from the stress of my job and the tiny baby sucking the life out of me that I actually drove into a neighboring parking lot and slept in my car on my lunch break (on the days that I was able to take a lunch break). Imagine going through withdraw from caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol all at the same time. I’m sure I wasn’t the most understanding and caring boss during those months. Apologies to any of my former staff who might be reading this. I was so tired and nauseous that I probably looked like I had been out partying every night. When the second trimester arrived, I was so glad to be able to tell people that I was pregnant and not hung-over. I have to admit, I had a really smooth pregnancy and I was lucky to be able to continue working without any health problems. However, by the last month or so, trying to work 9-10 hour days carrying around 40 extra pounds was brutal. It’s a good thing my office chair had wheels because I was too tired to do anything but scoot my large, pregnant self from my computer to my printer to my phone those last few days. It wasn’t long after returning to my job that I realized that the daily tasks that used to be so important to me no longer mattered. I didn’t care if someone’s billing was incorrect. I couldn’t focus on issues with my staff. I was consumed by the fact that the precious little man who tortured my body for 40 weeks was down the hall in an infant classroom being snuggled by someone else.

And so, four months later, I made the transition into stay-at-home mommyhood. Now, my daily duties are much different than before, which brings me to the photo posted above. Everyday tasks include diaper changes, bottle making, book reading and art projects. On Mondays, we go to story time at the local library. On Tuesdays, we head off to work (nannying for two other children). On Wednesdays, we watch the garbage men pick up the trash. On Fridays, we have a half day from nannying and we usually take a trip out in the afternoon to someplace special like the pet store, the indoor gym, or to Best Buy (check out our field trip to Best Buy here ). It’s a much slower pace in some ways, but much crazier in others. There are days when I miss the adult interaction of working full time.

Sometimes, when I am reading Red Truck the 400^th time, I am bored. But then, there are moments, like watching Grey wave to the garbage man, when I realize how amazing it is that I have the opportunity to spend this precious time with him. The highlight of my week used to be how many new enrollments I secured for the center. Now the highlight of my week is watching Grey laugh when the garbage truck honks at us as they drive away. And I feel so lucky for that.

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