Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes (Part 2)

Good morning! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. We just returned late last night from a wonderful five days in Mobile with our families. There was a lot of eating, sleeping, and movie watching, and even I occasionally got to do those things.

A lot of things have happened in the past week. Big, BIG changes. Two things first: No, I am  not pregnant. Get that thought out of your head. Every news is not preggo news. And believe me, you will know when it is. I feel the hormones will seep straight from my fingers into my written word, and you'll know. Secondly, I'm not ready to talk about what happened. "What?!" you say? "Why did you even bring it up, then?"

Excellent question. Worry not, I WILL talk about it, and soon. But here's the deal - I find myself very suddenly a stay-at-home-mom. That's where I am, that's where I might be for a while, and that's what I'm talking about today.

Normally at this time, I would have dropped off ladybug an hour and a half ago at her lovely daycare, and I would be typing away at my desk computer, probably looking at underwriting. Yet today, I am sitting in my pink and polka dot bathrobe, and writing what I like to write, while V sits in her highchair close to me, dropping cheerios on the floor and laughing as Pug does her duty at quickly scarfing them up.

Life is good. And terrifying at the same time. Sure, I've had entire days with V by myself many times, but this new adventure seems different. We have a lot to handle today - unpacking her loot of Christmas presents, dropping by her daycare to gather her things and painfully tell them we won't be needing (or able to afford) their services anymore, and grocery shopping so I actually have something to feed her while she is in my care all day.

Not to mention we have to make sure we take care of the really important stuff - budgeting, bills and Obamacare. That's right - I got the pleasure of signing up for the much anticipated new private insurance on Monday to ensure that V and I had coverage as of Jan 1. Honestly, the most painful part of it was the price tag. If you need health insurance, you might as well check out the site. As much as the country protests it, (myself included), the healthcare reform is happening, and you might need to take advantage.

All of these things aside, I'm actually excited about the days to come. I know, I know - I've always been a  champion for the working mom - and believe me, I haven't given up. But sitting here next to my gorgeous girl, whose hair is more and more starting to resemble this Jim Carey character every morning -

I have to think to how much happier I'll be spending my days with my favorite play mate. So wish me luck, everyone! And any tips on how to keep my adult sanity while I go from conversations about the benefits of cash values in permanent life insurance to endless episodes of Curious George will be much appreciated. 

Happy Thursday, everyone! Have a wonderful day with whomever you are having to spend it with. 

Love,

Dominique 

A Clueless Mom's Ultimate Christmas Jam List

So. Many. Emotions.

For Car-jamming while gift shopping:

Christmas in Hollis - Run. D.M.C
Christmas Wrapping - The Waitresses
Last Christmas - Wham
The Chipmunk Song - Alvin and the Chipmunks
Jingle Bell Rock - Brenda Lee
Santa Claus is coming to Town - Bruce Springsteen and E Street Band
I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - The Jackson Five
What Christmas Means to Me - Stevie Wonder

For opening presents:

I want a Hippopotamus for Christmas - Gayla Peevey
Do They Know it's Christmastime - Band Aid
Have a Holly Jolly Christmas - Burl Ives
White Christmas - Bing Crosby
Here Comes Santa Claus - Gene Autry
Little St. Nick - Beach Boys
Feliz Navidad - Jose Feliciano
Santa Baby - Eartha Kitt
Wonderful Christmastime - Paul McCartney

For looking at Christmas Lights:

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Judy Garland
Happy Christmas - John Lennon
Christmas Song - Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds
The Christmas Song - Nat King Cole
O Holy Night - Christina Aguilera
Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth - Bing Crosby and David Bowie
Baby it's Cold Outside - Margaret Whiting and Johnny Mercer
Merry Christmas Darling - The Carpenters

For Karaoke:

All I want for Christmas is you - Mariah Carey
We need a little Christmas - Johnny Mathis
Run Rudolph Run - Chuck Berry
Grandma Gor runover by a reindeer - Elmo and  Patsy
Please come home for Christmas - The Eagles
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year - Andy Williams
Same Old Lange Syne - Dan Fogelberg

For putting up the tree:

The entire Charlie Brown Christmas Soundtrack - Vince Guaraldi Trio

And I'm sure there are many, many more, but that's my definitive list.

Merry Christmas!

Love,
Dominique

Wait a minute - There's a "Great Santa Claus Debate?"

Hello there. I know I wrote yesterday, but man has this been bugging me.

I grew up, and still reside in, a conservative state. Christian and country music rule a lot of the airwaves, and there are probably be more churches than Starbucks in any given city. We are Southern, we are Sacred, and we are traditional.

However, even growing up in a devout Catholic family, there was never a question of whether Santa Claus was comin' to our house. He was sure to be there, every Christmas Eve, leaving American Girl Dolls, socks and sweaters beneath our Christmas tree.

And never once did I associate Santa Claus with taking away the true meaning of Christmas. In fact, I loved and still love Christmas mass at my home church. Even though I am no longer an active Catholic, the dimmed lights, candles, and powerful hymns of joy still bring me to a state of awe and fill my heart with a feeling of love, and goodwill towards men.

Which is why it's so disturbing to me to see that so many parents are pulling away from the secular side of the holidays, particularly the practice of Santa Claus. Maybe it's because I did grow up learning of the saints, but didn't St. Nick first originate with Saint Nicholas, a bishop, devout christian, and giver of gifts? In fact,  many cultures around the world celebrate Santa on his feast day - December 6th, in honor of his memory and devotion to God.

Santa isn't about taking the focus away from the birth of Jesus. Santa is magic - a tangible figure that promotes moral behavior, and the practice of bestowing tokens of love for those around us. What could possibly be so wrong about that? Doesn't the golden rule teach us that we should "Do unto others as we would have them do unto us?"

In my mind, anything or person who can help a child follow the path of ethical decisions is a welcome thing.

Now I know what some of you are thinking - shouldn't we be teaching our children that Jesus is the best example of how live a good life? In short, yes. But children are children, and many of them aren't capable of understand the concepts of sacrifice.

And so we have Santa. With his jolly attitude, and historically christian background, to show them that Christmas is a time of happiness and joy, and helping others to feel the same.

So as I was taught, I will teach my children about the birth of the Savior, as well as the magic of Santa Claus. Hey, I may even change my lazy position of the elf on the shelf and participate in that. Because I want Christmas to be as magical as possible for my daughter, just as it is for me to do this day.

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy Thursday!

Love,
Dominique

Lead by example...and then hide while you eat all of the candy.

As I sit here at 7:51am eating a slice of chocolate pie for breakfast, I have to wonder how I'm ever going to teach my child to not follow in a lot of my horrible examples.

The old saying, "Do as I say, not as I do." is basically just an older version of "Because I said so." Every child in the world knows that those four words hold more power but less substance than any other words uttered by parents around the world.

But we have to use them, and use them often. Knowing what is the right thing to do, and following it yourself are two different things. I know I shouldn't be eating this pie for breakfast, but I'm adult who makes my own choices, and it was in the break room. And it looked amazing. And I didn't bring anything else to eat.

So I justify it to myself, but if Violet ever wants to eat pie for breakfast, I would probably respond with a steadfast "I don't think so," and fix her something much healthier whether she likes it or not.

The fact is that parents are humans too. No matter how perfect we are in the eyes of our children, we are flawed, and we are weak, and we are going to make silly little mistakes and have to answer to our all-seeing children.

I, for one, am terrified of this. Eating sweets uncontrollably is only one of my indiscretions. I stay up too late sometimes. I put things off till the last minute. I won't shower for entire days on the weekends. I swear like a sailor when I'm truly angry or I am playing the wii (which, often, the two coincide), I eat Kraft macaroni and cheese for dinner more often than I should admit, and a vegetable rarely touches my lips.

But you know, not allowing your kids their every whim like we allow ourselves only makes it more special when we will allow it. I remember the feelings of joy I would get around the holidays when my mother would let me eat left over pie for breakfast, and we would sit at the table together, indulging in our unhealthy meal and I felt as if we were sharing a secret.

As much as I am my father's daughter, my sweet tooth is aaaalll my mom. It's one of the many things we've always had in common, and she's one of the few people who can truly understand my weakness for them. Particularly chocolate. Oh, how we love us some chocolate.

So those moments will always be precious to me because they were few and far between. I realize that the older my sweet V gets, the more I am going to have sacrifice a lot of my bad habits in order to teach her the right way to behave. But I can't promise I won't ever let her eat pie for breakfast, especially if it's just the two of us. I want her to know that silly little indulgences are ok every once in a while, and that mommy isn't perfect.

Well this chocolate confection isn't going to eat itself, so I better get back to it. Happy Wednesday!

Love,
Dominique

Busted!

Letters to Santa...Clueless Mom Style

Dear Santa Claus,

How's it going? I bet you're pretty busy this time of year, so I appreciate the time you're taking reading this for me. Your workshop's pretty advanced, right? I assume so, since wooden rocking horses and rubber balls have been replaced by Ipads and smartphones under most children's trees these days.

Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me with a few things this year. See, I've got a 9 month old little girl, and she is the light of my life, but Santa, boy do I ever need some help. I'm including a list of things that you could consider bringing me this year, if you deem me as being a good girl. I've tried, Santa. I really have. I have only said excessive swear words inside my head, and I've only threatened to take pug to the glue factory once or twice. And I tried to add that it was only for a tour, as I felt bad about threatening it in the first place.

So, without further ado, here is my Christmas list:

1) An invisible "safety bubble" to put around my kid. She's not crawling yet, but she sure is mobile. Nothing will make you realize what a death trap your house is like part of your heart reaching for every bit of glass on the floor and amazingly quickly making her way towards the long basement stairs. I'm afraid if I baby proof the house instead of her, I'll be walking on bubble wrap well into her teenage years.

2) A baby chef. I don't care what I eat, Santa. I'm perfectly content with mac and cheese and Totinos pizzas for the rest of my years, but I want my baby to eat well. However, this is an issue as I don't know how to cook anything. Table foods are the scariest part of her development right now.

3)A personal speech coach. So far, the only words sweet V is saying these days are "mama," dada," and her personal favorite, "Uh oh." I still have no idea how to teach my kid how to talk. I also have a very real fear that she will assume that pug's voice is how normal people talk, seeing as Chris and I have entire conversations with our dog. I'm also concerned she'll start calling me "Boo."

4) A maid. For obvious reasons. Particularly one who loves washing bottles and cleaning bathrooms. And sweeping up pug tumbleweeds of fur. I'll still do all of the laundry. I have a fondness for folding onesies.

5) Something, ANYTHING, with buttons, that resembles the TV remote or my cell phone that is ok to get slobbered on, bitten, and thrown around. Because sweet girl seems to want nothing else.

6) Mary Poppins. I need a break every now and then, and I would love to catch a movie. I hear the new Hunger Games is pretty good.

7)A teleporter. I know, this one is a bit much, but Santa - the four hour drive to Mobile is B-O-R-I-N-G. And I miss my family. I would be willing to forgo Mary Poppins for this one, as my sweet mom and mother in law would be more than happy to let us catch the Hunger Games while they spend time with their granddaughter.

8)An endless formula fountain. Even though V will only be on formula for a little while longer, I could donate it someone else in need whenever we are finished with it. We use Simply Right Sensitive from Sam's Club. In case you were wondering.

9)A diaper genie that magically dispenses CLEAN diapers. Imagine the possibilities! Go green, Santa. Pop one dirty one in, and out comes a clean one. Yes, I know I could just use cloth diapers. But if you're going to suggest that, then I'm going to need the maid to help out more with laundry.

10) Just Dance 2014. For the Wii. I love to dance.

Gee, thanks Santa! You're the best. I realize that not all of these are possible, so if I had to choose, I would say priorities are Teleporter, safety bubble, baby chef and Just Dance 2014. I promise I'll be extra good for the next few weeks. Happy Tuesday!

Love,
Dominique

Ma Familia

With Thanksgiving and Christmas just around the corner, I find myself thinking a lot about my family. I realize that even though I reference them often, I haven't really talked much about my family. Not the one I have now, but the one I've always had, and grew up with.

I would say 90% of who I am was shaped by these people. With the other 10% being scattered between life experience and choices. Here's a little bit about the people I call "home."

First, my parents. They've been married for over 40 years now, and are still just as interested in talking to each other as the day they met. They have shown me what it means to be committed, through good times and bad, and I can only hope that I follow in their footsteps. My mom is typical and so special at the same time. She mispronounces celebrity names, always burns the bread, can strike the fear of God in our hearts with a single look and loves Lifetime movies and CSI. But she's also the most selfless person I've ever witnessed. That woman will do anything - seriously, ANYTHING, to help her family. She has sacrificed more than I will ever grasp, and only after I had a daughter of my own could I understand how much she embodies the true meaning of motherhood.

My dad is so dad-ish. Our phone conversations are limited to the weather, and when I last got my oil changed or how the baby is doing. He loves history, science, and sitting outside in the cool air with a bourbon and coke. He's very quiet, until he's not - and then watch out. He has considerably calmed in his older age, and even though he's strong and silent, I like to think I can always tell what he's thinking. I'm just like my dad. Reserved, clumsy and accepting. And for all of those traits I am grateful. Even being clumsy. A good bruise is a good story, and the little bumps make you more resilient, right?

My brother, Travis. The eldest, and the only boy, he silently suffered through his adolescence being surrounded by women. He's smart, kind, protective, and honestly the funniest person I have ever known. He loves music, independent films, and his wife and two daughters. He works harder than anyone I've ever seen. He'll always be on a pedestal to me. He used to rent movies with me every week and fall asleep on the floor when we were hanging out. He never treated me like a brat, even through our nine year age difference.

My sister Kerry. Kerry is a perfect combination of sensitive and strong. She's so busy. She works as a special education teacher full time, and on her "off" time, is usually scooting her two girls to a cheerleading practice or a birthday party. She is exhausted, and yet, whenever I call her she has time to talk. And more importantly, to listen. Kerry is a great listener. She never judges, and will stand her ground with you against anyone who has hurt you. She's the one I go to when I need help being a mom. She and my own mother are a combination of the mother I aspire to be.

My sister Katherine. Katherine is our family wild child, and our social butterfly. The life of every party, but also the one who stays to help you clean up. She has a million friends, but knows each and every one of them well. She's fiercely protective, and family means everything to her. She's usually the one standing along side me every holiday, keeping our traditions alive. She used to let me sneak into her room at night and watch Arsenio Hall. It was our thing.

My sister Deanna. Deanna has always been my mentor. She's smart, beautiful, funny and confident. She can and will do literally anything she puts her mind to. She's headstrong, and taught me one of the valuable lessons I'll always remember. "Never apologize for your feelings." I think about that, and I think about her. She indulged me in my silly little requests when we grew up sharing a room, like telling me stories of Disney World before I got to go see myself. Or doing monster checks in our closet, and listening to Mc Hammer and New Kids on the Block before we went to bed. She would also let me sneak into her bed every single night, even though she "fought it" and told me not to. She's the one I call when I need to vent, and when I need some strength.

So that's them. My family. The reason I love to go home. The reason my budding family is so important to me. The reason I am who I am. I can't wait to go home and see them all this holiday season!

Happy Tuesday!

Love,
Dominique

It's ok if you work really hard towards something, and then sometimes you don't want it. At all.

Sometimes the universe has a way of throwing a message to you in a way only you would relate to it. Often, mine come in the form of a line or a movie quote I didn't notice before in something I've seen a million times, that all of a sudden literally speaks to me. I try to take these things seriously, even if they aren't always coming from the most serious of mediums.

Today's particular lesson came from an episode of How I Met Your Mother. Yep, you heard that right. Now before you go criticizing me for blogging about an admittedly comedic television show, it has it's moments. And today's random episode that I happen to catch had a doozie.

If you're unfamiliar with it, the plot is far too long to explain, nor is it really even relative to my point. All you need to know if that one of the main characters, Lily, is a new mom. And she says something out loud none of us dare to speak:

"Sometimes I don't want to be a mother."

She doesn't say it sarcastically, or with any humor. It's a straight forward statement with golden globe worthy tears in her eyes. And I thought, "Wow. Me too." Sometimes I lament for the days when I could go home and veg out on my couch until I decided to go to sleep, or for even when I had the desire to buy clothes for myself. Or mostly, when I had money. Not a lot of money, mind you, but some. Enough for those clothes and whatever movie we felt like seeing and going to eat out once a week or so. 

Why do we, as mothers, feel so ashamed to admit this out loud? As if saying a statement like that would magically take back every painstaking hour that we spent mothering our children? 

Well I ask you this: Do you think a doctor has never had a day where they thought, "I don't want to be a doctor?" Just because we work so hard for something doesn't mean we have to be all in all the time. 

Being a good mother isn't easy. We have to care. We have to care SO MUCH. About everything. About what they eat, and how much, what they're wearing, what they're saying, what they're picking up and putting in their mouths. We even have to care about their poop. Every mother can tell you exactly what kind of poop is "danger poop."

And caring is exhausting. And let's be honest, sometimes not rewarding. News flash, not every moment of motherhood is rewarding. So your kid felt a little warm, and you rightly took their temperature, and they had a very low grade fever. What do you want, a medal? No one is going to thank you for that. And in all honestly, they probably would have been fine carrying on with that fever for a while until it went away on it's own. Disheartening, I know.

Not to say the little things don't matter. They absolutely do. But they may only matter to us. And our children. And you may find yourself asking why you even bothered sometimes. 

But we carry on. Just like anyone does who is doing something they really believe in. So next time you just want to exclaim "Today I wish I wasn't a mother!" Please call me. I'll say, "Girl, I hear you." and then regale you with tales of what I found in my daughter's poop.

Happy Monday everyone!

Love,

Dominique

My Spirit isn't broken, but it sure does feel sprained sometimes

I've been in a bit of a funk lately. Sure, most of you know about this blog through facebook, and my happy Funtober and most recently, my gorgeous posted professional pics of Miss V may show me as otherwise, but that's the whole thing about facebook, right? We only post our happiest selves. Did you know there's an actual study about social-media induced depression? It's true! But I digress.

The honest truth is that I certainly don't have it all together. Complete contentment with life is hard to come by, and anyone who tells you different is lying. Maybe only to themselves.

Sure, I'm happy. I can truly say that, maybe for the first time in a long time. My family has brought me joy is ways I didn't foresee possible. But sometimes I yearn for better things. Better job fulfillment, better wages, stronger friendships. I want to be stronger, both physically and emotionally, and I want to do it without lifting a finger or going through something so traumatic that I am forever changed. Is that so much to ask?! haha. Of course it is. We all have to work for what we want, even if we all sometimes wish that it would just happen if we will it to be so.

People love that quote "Be the change you want to see in the world." Whenever I see that on like a t-shirt or written in monotype corsiva in a pink block and posted to facebook, I always imagine the person posting it is thinking about people like Nelson Mandela or Mother Theresa. The big-leaguers who were striving to end world hunger and apartheid. But what happens if the change you want to see is just fair behavior in your office, or an end to all motherhood debates? I swear, world hunger seems easier to solve sometimes.

It's enough to get a workin' mom down. Lunch breaks spent at the pediatrician's. Sacrificing your "dedication" to your job that you can be home for the hour and a half before your kid goes to sleep to see them, or worse - sacrificing your time with your kid to get ahead at work. Factoring in the several vacation days each year that will actually be spent at home with your sick child, and calculating how many lunches you can skip to leave early enough to get to Mobile at a decent time when you do have to travel.

Alright, so those are very specific to me. Fair enough. But you get what I mean, right? I'm more imbalanced than even my lexapro can fix. It's hard, and eventually, it piles up on me. So I'm not perfect. Not that any of you thought I was. But I wanted to share my struggles, because as light-hearted as I like to keep things these days, this world bears on me like it does all others in my situation. And I need some prayers. And some help. And maybe someone to drink a whole lot of wine with, because Chris doesn't drink wine, and boy is it ever UNFUN to drink alone. And I promise to listen to you as you listen to me, and then we can move on the inappropriate subjects that are much, much more fun. And maybe watch 80s romantic comedies. Sound good? good.

Love,
Dominique

Support is the greatest gift you can give a new mother. That, and gas drops.

I received a really great compliment yesterday evening. It wasn't about my appearance, or my work, or even my sweet angel baby. It was about an old blog post I wrote when V was about 3 months old titled "It gets easier."

In this post (if you don't feel like skimming through my archives to find it), I laid out the truth bomb that it never gets easier, you just stop caring as much about the little stuff. A long time friend of my husband's (who has now become a good friend of mine) just had her first baby. Like all new mothers, she is dealing with exhaustion, recovery, confusion, frustration, hormones, and an overwhelming sense of love for someone who she didn't even know 1 month ago.

She has sent me a text here and there asking my advice on things like how to help her baby sleep, or did I swaddle, or did V take a passie - all of the stuff that you really have to figure out from you baby. At one point she told me that she had been letting her baby boy sleep on her chest, and she added "Don't judge me."

Judge you?! Friend, I will NEVER judge you. It wasn't that long ago that I was in your slippers, trying anything to get my child to sleep between the feedings every hour and a half (three hours my BUTT). Even now, I commit the mortal mommy sin of letting her nap on me and my husband because she refuses her swing, and Lord am I TIRED after a day of work.

Which brings me to my point. There are all kinds of mommy's out there. Hippie moms, no-nonsense moms, by-the-book moms, and moms who are just figuring it out as we go (that's me.) There are a millions books out there that have done countless studies about what is best for babies, from swaddling to feeding schedules, sleep training and disposable vs. cloth diapering. Formula vs. Breastfeeding. And these books are a great resource, but that is all they are. A resource. I hate to break it to you, but there is no such thing as an instruction manual for your kid. And if you manage to write one, you might as well find a cure for the common cold while you're at it.

So the best advice that I can give new moms like myself? I don't know what you're going through, and I'll tell you what I can about what helped me. But I want you to know, I support you. I'm here for you, just as so many others have been there for me. I'll never judge your actions, I'll never say what you're doing for your child is wrong (with the exception of immunizations, please, PLEASE do that). I'll praise you for your courage, and your resilience, and I'll be the first one at the finish line of your milestones cheering and yelling "You made it!"

And all I ask is that you one day do the same for someone else you know that is going through it. Remember how hard it was, and how good it feels to have someone telling you that you are doing such a wonderful job, and your kid is really, really great.

It has helped me tremendously to have the support that I do, and for all of my readers out there, I thank you for it.

Happy Tuesday everyone!

Love,
Dominique

My list of Top Ten Children's Toys that are Ruining America (and probably a lot of other places)

First of all, even though I've always been partial to watching children's programming in the morning as I get ready (Backyardigans, Fresh Beat Band, and lately, Spongebob), I've never noticed until I actually had a child how many dumb kids toys there are out there. I fear for the day when she actually understands what's going on on the magical moving picture screen, and begs me with certainty that she just desperately "neeeeeds" one of these ridiculous things for her birthday.

So anyway, here's a silly list (emphasis, SILLY - don't crucify me for my opinions, people) of what I consider to be the worst offenders:

1)Build-A-Bear: Got a kid that loves taxidermy? Now you will as they become increasingly obsessed with the Build-A-Bear workshop. First, pick your animal skin. Then take it over to the stuffing machine to stuff with it with your love (and filling) while you pick out it's adorable new humanizing clothing. Yay!

2) Any variation of the Bratz Dolls. I'm almost 100% certain that the Bratz Action heroes line caused the government shutdown. "Let's go save people and stuff." <--------actual last line of the commercial.

3) Zhu Zhu pets: These are not quite so advertised anymore but paying $10 ($40, at the height of their popularity) for a mechanical hamster that looks and feels like....a mechanical hamster... just seems wrong to me. How did these things ever get so popular?

4)The Monster High Dolls: Following closely behind the Bratz series, these things make me question: What happened to the simple Barbie? Sure, she had unrealistic proportions and a tendency to way behind in women's lib, but at least she had a normal skin color and a pulse!

5) The Hulk Green Fists: Because nothing teaches your child that violence isn't the answer like a set of boxing gloves disguised as a toy.

6) The FurReal friends: Just get them a pet, already. Having a semi-realistic cat that meows but can be thrown to the floor during snack time doesn't exactly teach responsibility. Here's a thought, FurReal makers - amp up the shedding, pooping and give them retractable claws that will scratch the crap out of you if you pull at their tales, and you might have a good product on  your hands.

7) Magic, the Gathering: Let your child decide their own geeky fate. Don't choose it for them.

8) Easy Bake Oven: YES. I wanted one of these. YES. All of my friends have them. But they are arguably the world's most disappointing toy. Waiting 40 minutes while a lightbulb slowly warms your brownie to an acceptable mushy mess to eat.  I 100% blame these for the fact that I now hate to cook and have no patience for things that I do have to cook occasionally.

9) Pillow Pets Dream lights: Because the last thing you want shining on your kids face as brightly as the sun as you are praying that they go to sleep is their own pillow.

10) Breaking Bad plush dolls: Yep, these exist. Meth lab not included.

Happy Tuesday!


Love,
Dominique

Tomato, Tomato.

Yes, I know that phrasing doesn't really work well in print. But you get what I mean, right?

I am the world's worst at comparing my life to other's lives. My house, my job, my car, clothes, husband, baby, everything.

Lately the focus has been more on my baby. Is she fat enough? Tall enough? Does she have enough hair and enough teeth? Should I be putting bows in her hair every day and dressing her dresses? I see a lot of other moms do that.

As Gloria on Modern Family says, "It's a doggy dog world." As in, whose puppy is the best? With everything from social media to gossip magazines to growth and percentile charts littering the internet with pictures and statistics, it's hard for me to not compare my child to others I see that are her age.

The truth is, V excels in some areas, and is honestly behind on others. She's tall, but lean, curious but not mobile, and has a head full of hair and a barely visible two teeth. She's great, really. So why do I worry?

Because I'm her mom. And because I look at other babies her age on facebook taking bites out of whole fruits and crawling like a speed demon. My daughter is a scooter, and literally throws up anything not puree'd. Except puffs. And we just got used to those. She can't pull up, and seems to have no interest in doing so. She'll mumble "da da da da da" over and over, but never say daddy. Or mama. Which she totally knows bothers me.

But she's healthy. And I get stopped by strangers in the grocery store to tell me she's beautiful. And she loves me and gets so excited when me or her daddy enter a room. I need to stop trying to make her something she's not. So what if she's not there yet? I remember a book my mother bought me called "Leo the late bloomer." It was about a lion cub who couldn't do all of the things his other animal friends could do, and then one day, he just got it. I was that way. Maybe my daughter is that way too.

Being a mother teaches you a type of patience you never you could have. A full on tantrum filled with flailing arms and crocodile tears doesn't even phase me anymore. Nor does a 10 minute stretch of her tiny arms trying to get a toy juuuuust out of her reach. I watch with patience and marvel at how hard she is trying.

So I just need to remember to apply those same principles to her every day life. I have no doubt that she's as smart as a whip (I know it, because I can see it in her eyes when she KNOWS she's messing with me), and that all of these things will come in time. And one day my little Leo will just get it. If you're constantly comparing your child to others, be assured that others are comparing their children to yours. And take joy in the ways your baby is amazing! Like how mine can rock a boy's pajama.

Happy Wednesday!

Love,
Dominique

One and Done?

It figures I would have something to actually talk about the day AFTER blog day. So this week, you get a two-fer.

I come from a large family. A loud, proud, Catholic clan - we were well known within our church and school communities growing up and still have significant ties to those today. And I love it. I've always loved it. Growing up with four siblings was nothing short of magical. The shared rooms and shared secrets, the passed down clothing and toys, and even the epic fights were all part of an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

So why am I so hesitant to even think about another child of my own? Even though my own daughter is not even eight months old, I still often get the question about when we are thinking about having another one. Another one? But I JUST had this one. I JUST spent 9 uncomfortable months, 10 days in hospitals and 7 weeks on bed rest growing and nurturing my current child, didn't I?

I love her so much. To say I would do it all over for her is a given in my mind. For her. For my sweet V, who loves yogurt and the good morning song from Singing in the Rain. But would I want to do it again for another baby? Honestly, I don't know anymore.

Am I terrible for saying that? It never occurred to me that I would stop at one child. Everyone tells me, "well it's so soon - you'll change your mind when she's older and things get easier."

Will I? Maybe. Maybe when she's 18 months, and walking around and singing to herself in the galoshes I'm certainly going to buy her because they're too cute, I'll wish a baby sibling for her to sing to. I'll remember holding her tiny body in my arms at 3am, so tired and so happy, and wish for that experience again.

Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll look at her and be so content, and so thankful that the days of reading body language and learning her cries and ordering formula and feeding pureed food are long gone, and this adorable creature that tells me she loves me is all mine to enjoy with no other distraction.

Selfishly, finances play a large part. One daycare expense is one thing, but two is basically twice my mortgage. A second baby would put a strain on our already stretched thin finances, and perhaps my 99 civic would just have to be repaired over and over and over because a new car is certainly not in the picture anymore. And where would we even fit a second baby in my civic? Would I have to stop working because the salary I make would only be paying for daycare? I like working. I want to work. I am a working mother.

I don't know how I'll feel 10 months from now. Maybe I'll say "I can't believe I ever even considered stopping at one!"

Maybe I'll still be hesitant and put it off a little longer. Or maybe the desire to have another child will never come back. Either way, I hope I'm supported from all angles in my decision, whatever it is. Because no matter what, I have a family. I have a wonderful husband, a dog, a cat and a beautiful angel of a child, and that's enough for me.

Happy Thursday everyone!

Love,
Dominique

Let's talk about chicks, man.

Good morning, all! I hope you're having a fabulous Funtober thus far. There are a lot of things I could talk about today, including but not limited to - Obamacare, the government shutdown, the article I read a few days ago about infant genome mapping. Indeed, the world weighs heavy on my mind. But Funtober is neither the time nor the place for such subjects, so instead, I've decided to just give a little update on what life is like these days with my little V.

My little pumpkin (pumpkin, get it?) is turning eight months old in about five days, and is just as fun as ever. She's eating "real" meals three times a day, but still has not quite grasped the concept of actual solid foods. We've discovered that she throws up every time she eats real bananas or puffs, which is almost always hilarious because it usually happens on Chris. We also think she might be allergic to mangoes, just liker her BeBe.

She's not pulling up or crawling, but she face plants regularly lunging for toys, so we think she'll figure out how to use her legs to balance soon. I'm not worried about it because I can sit her down and leave the room for a moment, and the worst thing I come back to is her on her tummy crying and flailing her arms. I'll take it.

We've moved on to, and gotten over, our first case of croup. Like a champ, she never acted like she felt bad. Mostly it was just like our baby was replaced with a seal for about three nights, and she did lose her voice for a day or two. She's doing much better now, and back to her chatty self.

She thinks jazz hands, horsey noises and tummy tickles are the funniest thing in the world, and sometimes she laughs for no reason because she's so tired, and she gets an awesome case of the hiccups almost every time she's finished cracking up. This leads me to believe that she thought I was funny even in the womb, because she would get the hiccups every day.

She loves to say "dada" while playing, and "mama" while crying. I was warned this would happen, and I'll be honest, I love that she wants me and only me when she's upset. Remember when I wrote that post about how kids are awesome, and I listed that as one of the reasons? It proves to be true.

I've tried to introduce her to awesome children's music, but she still prefers the creepy kids singing from her toy Violet dog. Ah, c'est la vie.

She has moved on to Infant II at her daycare, and I was super confused the first day I had to take her there. There's a play pen in the middle of the floor where I am used to seeing rocking chairs and boppy pillows, and a table with these funny little buckets seats in it where she sits to eat her breakfast. Still, her teachers seem great, so we're adjusting. Turns out it's taking me longer than her.

Also, this is happening:

We're going as the Swedish chef, and the cutest little singing chicken I've ever seen for Halloween. I can't wait to greet all of the neighborhood kids and parents on Halloween night with this little chick by my side!

That's about all. I hope everyone is enjoying this fall weather as much as I am. God bless Funtober!

Happy Wednesday, ya'll!

Love,
Dominique

#Win

I get it. Hashtags are EVERYWHERE right now. They are a way to say what we really mean without really saying it. Like a passive aggressive emoticon. But one of the most disturbing trends I see going on these days is #Parentingfail #momfail, and just #fail in general.

We all want people to relate to us, and we all want to relate to others. As a (fairly) new mom, I'm just as guilty of this as anyone else. I'll post a picture of my daughter crying after I dropped my cell phone on her head. Again. #momfail. I'll get sweet comments like "Been there!" or "You're doing great, mama!," and these are very cool. But if we live in a culture where we are constantly posting our failures, sooner or late it will be all that we think we are. 

Well, maybe not that dramatic. But I do tend to focus on my weaknesses as a mom instead of my strengths. So today I want you to focus on your strengths. Mom or no, what are you winning at?

#momwin - I can read my daughter like a book. Every expression, every hand gesture, every cry - I am spot on in knowing what she needs from me 99% of the time. 

#momwin - Only once - ONCE - in the entire 5 months of her being formula fed thus far have I run out of formula at daycare and they've had to borrow some from another parent. Considering I order mine online, I consider this pretty much staying on top of things.

#momwin - This: 

Come on, that's great. I even got the comment "This is why I want to have kids." If I can encourage people to have kids, then GREAT! Kids are fun!

#momwin - I taught my daughter to dance. Granted, all she does is scoot around on the floor, but she has a great time doing it. Mama loves an impromptu dance party, so it looks like she got that gene from me.

#momwin - I've discovered the secret to keeping my house clean for now is...drumroll...cleaning as you go. It's not so daunting when you have to do three dishes instead of ten, and one load of laundry instead of four. No, my house will never be spotless. I do still have a kid. But I don't feel like a trainwreck anymore!

#momwin - I've already made V's appointments for her first flu shot and her 9 month check up a month in advance. This is a huge accomplishment for me that I remembered to do it at all, much less not the week before. Win!

#workingmomwin - We are going on over a month of not missing daycare due to illness. #thankyouboogiewipes #disinfectyourselfbeforeyouwreckyourself #mamaneedsthatpaycheck

So that's just a few of mine. Tis the season to celebrate you, and encourage others to do the same. Leave that summertime sadness behind because it's fall ya'll!

Happy Wednesday!

Love, 

Dominique 

Mommy Milestones (Because we're learning to crawl before we walk, too.)

Hello, babies. Now that you've got this new woman in life, you're probably wondering if she's developing on schedule. Remember, all mommies are different - some may be more advanced, and some may be late bloomers, so just be patient with your new mom as she explores this new world around her.

Showering:
1-2 weeks
Your new mommy may start showering again as early as a few days after your birth, but it's not uncommon for this process to take a week or two. Don't worry - she'll get there. If you're a colicky baby, this may take up to three weeks.

Passing you off quickly:
3-4 weeks
Your new mommy is terrified of dropping you, and since your neck is still unstable, this makes the football pass off to other people a necessary step. Try squirming a little bit, and follow it with crying for a few hours. This will make the new transition from mommy's arms to daddy's arms much smoother and quicker in the future.

Sleeping through the night:
4 months - ?
This is very much dependent on how much you work with her. Try sleep training her as early as 3 months. The sooner you're both passing out by 8pm, the happier your days will be. Don't worry if it takes a little longer. She's functioning on the rich nutrients of caffeine until this stage is over.

Leaving you in the care of others:
4 weeks - 1 year (or later)
This new mommy is very attached to you - sometimes physically, so don't be concerned if she isn't comfortable with grandma watching you on her own just yet. Remember, some mommies may be ready to say their goodbyes as early as a few weeks for a night out, while others are perfectly content to stay in for months at a time with their new angel (you) so enjoy it.

Drinking again:
1 day - several months
Some mommies are ready for that first glass of wine in the hospital - after, it's been a long nine months incubating you - but others are maintaining their new mom buzz all on their own. All new mommies drink something eventually. Yours may take longer, but don't be surprised if you taste a little wine in that first bits of breast milk (a little is perfectly harmless.)

Fixing her hair/wearing makeup
6 weeks - never again
Looking presentable may be something is forced upon your new mommy - like returning to work, or your baptism. But other mommies prioritize by showering and getting dressed in something other than pajamas before proceeding with their days with you. Either is perfectly acceptable. Your mommy is beautiful - no matter what she's wearing.

Stop taking endless amounts of pictures you:
Second baby - never
I'll be honest, some mommies never get over "mamarazzi syndrome." Every thing you do is amazing to her, so give her a smile and let it happen. If and when you get a sibling, the pictures may die down a bit, but be prepared for a new stage of matching outfits (for sisters, particularly) and weekly submissions of your videos to America's Funniest Home Videos.


Like I said before, all mommies are different. Yours is wonderful, and developing just as she should be. If you have any reason for concern - ask dad, or babble something to your doctor. An early red flag can lead to a lot of prevention.

Happy Wednesday!

Love,
Dominique

My Top 10 List of things I May Never Learn (And the tough love I need to give myself)

I've learned a lot over the past year. I've grown, (then shrunk) then grew again as I got pregnant, had a baby and am now always attempting to keep said baby happy and alive. But there are always going to be things in my life that I seem to never learn. Why is it so hard?

1) You're not going to want/eat that salad. Whenever you decide you'll get a salad for lunch because you need something fast and the thought of a burger makes you ill, you always end up ill anyway because of low blood sugar 3 hours later. Dominique, you don't want a salad. Just get the damn burger.

2) No amount of preparation is ever going to make your trips to Mobile the same 4 hours they have always been. You have a kid now. She gets hungry, and lonely and screams bloody murder in the backseat until you stop. Get used to a 5 hour timeline at least.

3) Despite your lack of best efforts, geography is always going to be your Achilles Heal. Learn how to point out the important places in the news on a map and let it go.

4) You will never know how to spell the word "necessary." Even as you type the rest of this sentence, the red squiggly line underneath it beckons you to do an auto correct with your right click.

5) You may never learn how to put on eyeliner. It's never been part of your makeup repertoire, and is seemingly one of the few girl-staples that you never bothered with. You've doomed yourself to a life of small, undefined eyes. That someone once told you were too close together.

6) You'll never teach high school English. It's time to let this dream go, as you've now realized that in order to teach others English, you have to be able to properly speak and write it yourself. You have poor grammar, bad spelling and you start a lot of sentences with prepositions. You have, however, learned to separate the two words "a lot." Kudos.

7) You hate running. Or exercise in general that you haven't been tricked into doing. Don't ever join a gym again unless they have a magical pool that somehow always has lounge chairs open and isn't filled with pool rat children and tatted fraternity guys hitting on the lifeguards.

8) You love TV. Accept it. TV and wine are your friends, and subsequently, your only hobbies. Stop telling people you are going to start working in the yard outside.

9) You're not going to make your own baby food, and in all truth, you are terrified of the day when your daughter isn't eating pureed jar foods anymore. She can't survive off of totino's pizzas and mac and cheese like you can, so you better come up with a solution quick.

10) Despite all of your faults, you're a good mom. Your baby is happy, healthy and cute as a button. You're doing fine. And you'll be able to handle whatever comes your way regarding her from here on out. Even if you think you can't.

So there you have it, the Truth Bomb of blogs.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

Love,
Dominique

Precautionary or Paranoid? The feeding fine lines that are giving me fine lines (and grey hair.)

I don't like to cook. My husband of almost two years can attest to this. The preparation, the time involved, I want none of it. I also have no confidence in my ability to cook anything I've never cooked before, and therefore, I rarely try. Lame, I know.

However, with V eating solids now, there's a whole world of good fruits, veggies and grains that she can have to widen her palette. But with her having no teeth yet, most everything has to be specially prepared and pureed to a fine paste that will inevitably have only about 85% of it end up in her mouth.

Or you can buy it in a jar, like I have. I'll hand it to Earth's Best, they make a good jar food. At least V seems to think so. But like any brand, their choices are limited, and after a month and a half of the 1 new food every 4 days rule, we are running out of new options.

Anxiety is now starting to take it's stronghold on my heart. Not only do I need to start giving her more variety, but I have *gasp* prepare it MYSELF. Why would I not just stick with jar foods? Because honestly, they offer more fruits than veggies, and I'm worried about her natural sugar intake. Yes, you read that right. I bought her prune oatmeal today, and decided to also pick up some more of her yogurt and apple banana cereal. As I looked at my cart, I thought "That's an awful lot of fruits for one day." And I felt the worry start to creep. I thought about going back to the baby aisle and grabbing some carrots instead, but I had already had an uncomfortable conversation with the small Russian woman stocking jars on the shelves about how (she thinks) I made a  mistake by feeding V fruits and veggies alternatively. "Some people say you should start with veggies first, or they will develop a sweet tooth." Really? I had never really heard of that but thanks for making me feel like I just screwed up the last month of my daughter's crucial development. Our pug who spends 15 minutes licking various parts of her gross anatomy and then gives my daughter open mouth kisses doesn't bother me, but I'm worried about if I'm giving her food in the wrong order. Sounds about right.

So, back to the cooking. I sometimes imagine how my mom star power would surge as I pull out an ounce or two of homemade green beans, and maybe an ounce of carrots and fresh blueberries and fix my daughter a well balanced dinner that would make her inevitably the President of the United States someday all because of my mom-awesomeness.

But I clam up every time I think about buying those things, cooking them (steam or bake? I don't know!) and then blending them to be poured into our now pristine (because I would have to clean and sterilize them like crazy) ice cube trays. Why? Why does that sound so hard? It can't be laziness. I do laundry, wash bottles, do bath time and clean my house a little bit every night, but I can't BAKE A POTATO?

So I gave her jar food because I convinced myself that Earth's Best does it better. And now she's eating three times a day, and I'm being backed into a corner having to prepare good food for her. And it's scary. I don't want to screw it up. I don't want her to get sick because I under cooked something, or I bought a bad batch out of season or something weird like that. My lack of knowledge about fresh ingredients would astound you. But I'm going to do it. Because if nothing else, I feel like I have to try for her. For my little President.

Wish me luck, and happy Wednesday! I'll post pictures of my homemade baby food adventure after this weekend.

Love,
Dominique

Good Morning! Is it bedtime yet?

Picture this:

It's 6am on the dot, and I groggily  stumble into my already awake daughter's room to give her her morning bottle. I turn on her lamp and am greeted by a completely sideways baby kicking her legs furiously (we call these her "thomps") and blinking to adjust to the light. Then the mischievous grin shows up. I pick her up and carry her to our chair, and she hungrily grasps at the bottle as if she hasn't eaten ever before.

During this morning time, my eyes are barely open, but her feet are still moving. Always moving. She rubs her little footie pajama'd foot up and down against the arm of her glider, and turns her head at every sound, including the pug, who has by now nosed her way through the door I thought I closed securely and is sitting on the floor licking her foot 100 times.

After she finishes her bottle, it's time to pull at stuff. Mommy's glasses, mommy's hair, mommy's shirt or pajama pants. Anything her little hands can get their tiny fingers around. I sit her down in her crib while I grab her changing pad, and she's already reaching for her crib camera while simultaneously about to topple over and hit her head on her bars. I catch her just in time and with one fluid motion lay the pad in her crib and place her on top of it. Now it's time to take our PJ's off. I unsnap the 20 snaps that go down the length of it (zippers, for the love, baby clothing makers - MORE ZIPPERS) and with the now slack that the fabric has, the top of it is heading for her mouth and she - still kicking - barely allows me to take her constantly moving feet out. Now it's time to take out her arms, but like the fighter she is - she has a stronghold grip on the sleeves that means I have to firmly - but gently, pry her fingers off of long enough to slide her arms out.

Whew. PJ's are off. Now it's diaper change time. I already see the blueberry apple dinner from the night before showing through the liner, so I know what's waiting for me. I open the wipes in preparation, and unlatch the diaper straps. I won't get into the gory details, but as I assess the task before me (2 wipe minimum? four?) her legs are still kicking. Only after she has managed to kick her dirty diaper that I was too slow to move out of the way in time, and the smudge of poop is already on her little foot, does she decide that now it's time for the foot-to-mouth game. I use one hand to pin her legs down to prevent this from happening, and the other to grab another wipe and quickly give her whole foot a wipe down.

Now we're clean. Naked as a jaybird, but clean. I go to grab a diaper, and miraculously she just watches me calmly. Legs still and outstretched...until I get back to her. The kicking resumes, and is now accompanied by the "what's over there?" turning of her entire body until I have flipped it back over at least three times. The diaper is under her booty, but every time I try to fasten it on, she unlatches the velcro. Did I mention she's smiling the whole time? I finally pin her arms with my left hand, pin her legs with my right and with a third arm that I didn't know I have, managed to secure the new diaper (which already has a blue "I'm wet" line on it, but Lord I am not doing that again) and pick her up to go to our room while we get ready for work.

Various things happen from here. She almost tips over her rock n play trying to reach my robe behind her. She makes dinosaur noises while chewing on Sophie and laughs her daddy tickling her. He leaves for work, and I am no faced with the task of changing her diaper again and getting her redressed for the day. Not to mention the epic battle that is now strapping her in her car seat, gathering her bottles for the day and getting out of the house by 7:15.

I'm exhausted. And then I go to work.

And people wonder why I go to bed by 9pm every night. Happy Thursday Moms! To all of you with newbies out there - your time is coming. Muhahahaha.

Love,
Dominique

To all of the gentlemen out there, particularly my husband.

Unless you've been living in a cave since Saturday night, more than likely you've seen/heard about the whole Miley Cyrus debacle at this year's VMA's. I'll be the first to admit that I lost interest in the VMA's long ago, as I have completely lost touch with most of music pop culture. I am old and uncool.

However, with all of the talk on social media these days, I learned of this provocative showing fairly quickly, and had to check it out for myself. The truth is I wasn't entertained. I wasn't shocked, or surprised. I just felt sad. I felt sad for this lost young woman who so desperately is trying to escape an image she has convinced herself was forced upon her. Now, I won't say I haven't fallen victim to the various fruits that have come from that tree since Sunday. Memes, articles, blogs, all of it. I've read it all. But now here's my take on the whole thing.

Miley, I don't know what is making you think you have to do this. I don't know who is convincing you that this is the way you behave and look to get attention and be taken seriously, but I am so thankful that I've never felt the need to do that myself. Now, of course a lot of that has come from the incredibly strong women in my life. My mother, my sisters, my dearest friends. But to all of the men that I rarely acknowledge, I'd like to thank the following people:

First, my dad. For being a provider, strong and silent, and for showing me that true love means reading the paper together every morning, and never running out of things to talk about.

Next, my father in law. Who loves his children with all of his heart, openly and unabashed.

Next, my brother. For always having my back, and trusting me to have the confidence I needed to command the respect that I deserved. And for learning to share a bathroom with four growing women. Bless your heart.

Next, to all of my male friends growing up. You treated me with respect, as an equal and as a friend. You made it easy for me to feel comfortable in mixed company, and really learn to be myself. Goofiness and all.

And finally, to my husband. My biggest fan, the love of my life, and, to use a horrible cliche, my rock. You are patient, respectful, loving and kind. You are smart, and selfless, and compassionate. You fell in love with me at a time when I didn't even love myself. You kept me close even when I pushed you away, convinced I didn't deserve to be happy. You gave me a roof, a ring, and a beautiful daughter, everything you had ever promised to me. You love me in my glasses, no makeup and unshowered, in pajama pants and an old tank top with a cold and a grouchy face.

I'm not worried about my daughter. She will grow up knowing that she was created perfectly, flaws and all, to be the person that she was meant to be. All I can hope is the young women out there like Miley Cyrus learn that lesson too before it's too late.

Happy Tuesday! Thank all of the strong men and women in your life who have made you the way that you are today!

Love,
Dominique

The holiday Trifecta now a QUAD...fecta?

For those of you who know me, The next few months of our upcoming lives are my absolute favorites of the year. Every August I start to plan what I like to call "The Holiday Trifecta," which is of course, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas.

But it's so much more than that. We start with Funtober, a month so effortlessly fun, you literally don't have to plan anything to have the most amazing time. Don't fight the Funtober. Let the Funtober come to you. Football, Fall-tivities and Halloween top this list, and I decided to make it more awesome-r in my life by getting married, so now my anniversary gets to fall in Funtober.

Then we move on to Thanksgiving. The least pressured of all holidays (unless you're the chef), Thanksgiving is everything American stands for...literally. Copious amounts of food, family and no gifts required, followed by insane shopping sales and the Iron Bowl (only Alabamians will understand that.)

Christmas is self explanatory. Christmas is so awesome that it doesn't even wait until December to start. We just go right ahead and start decking the halls the day after Thanksgiving, because that's how America rolls.

But there's something we've missed of course. A nagging 30 days where the weather and your wardrobe are indecisive, we lament the end of summer and resent the lingering heat wave. September.

What to do with September? Do we just ignore it and hope it goes away? Do we start wearing those heinous sleeveless turtlenecks (your neck is cold, but your arms are hot? I don't understand!)

Well I, for one, am sick of it. I'm sick of just drifting through September like ghost in the LaLaurie Mansion of the New Oreleans (did I mention I plan on taking a Funtober ghost tour? It's going to be so cool! Ghosts, and history and voodoo.. Sorry. I digress.)

So I have decided to celebrate September for the only attribute it brings to the table. The return of fall TV shows.

I declare September "TV-Tember!" I shout it from the rooftops as I rain NBC, ABC, FOX and CW schedules all over the city. No, I don't really do that. But I am looking forward to the return of several of my favorite relate-able comedies and dramas. New Girl, Mindy Project, Hart of Dixie. Vampire Diaries, Modern Family, How I Met Your Mother. My heart palpitates with excitement of the impending endless conversations these new episodes with produce for me at work.

God bless you TV-Tember. You have saved what almost kills my Trifecta spirit every year.

Happy TV-Tember to all!

Love,
Dominique

Top Ten Baby Things I Couldn't Live Without

It's bloggy blog Wednesday, and honestly, I don't have a topic. But I love to write, so as I was thinking about adventures in mommyhood lately, I thought about how I've had two pregnant friends ask me recently for a list of the things I just couldn't live without to aid them in creating their registry.

I, too, had to do this, but my dear friend Katie did me the solid of actually going with me to create my registry. Since not everyone has recently pregnant friends that can go with them, I thought I'd compile a list of the top ten things I couldn't live without, and why.(In no particular order)

1) Swing/bouncer. The old tale that a new mother never sleeps is not really particularly true. Newborns sleep an average of 16-20 hours a day (unfortunately, mostly during the day), so you need something convenient to keep an eye on them and maybe be able to grab some shut eye yourself. (repeat after me: SLEEP WHEN THE BABY SLEEPS.) I had both of these and for the first 3-4 months, she adored her bouncer. Now it's the swing that allows me to do dishes for her evening nap. Babies have different moods just like everyone else, so offer a few different things. *Bonus* A colicky baby will sometimes sleep much better in an inclined position, so a swing or bouncer can aid with this.

2) Swaddle blankets. Nothing disturbs the peacefulness of a new baby more than the flailing of their still tiny arms. I, and several other friends, have the Aden + Anais brand linen blankets. They are sweet, breathable, large and soft. They also make excellent car seat covers for chilly days or quick trips to the store during cold and flu season.

3) Bottles. (I like Tommy Tippee, but a lot of people say good things about Dr. Brown) Even if you think you will exclusively be breast feeding, introducing bottles between 3 and 6 weeks is a MUST. Sure, you could get away with it, but bottle feeding will be a life saver in the following situations:
a) working mothers
b) lengthy road trips
c) long day trips
d) middle of the night feedings (yes, dad can help too now!)
Plus, anything can happen, and your baby may become a formula baby for whatever reason. Get them adjusted before it's too late.

4) Onesies and Footy sleepers. Yes, it's adorable when little babies wear tiny jeans and sweater vests. But keep in mind that you may be changing the clothes on said baby 3-4 times a day after they spit up and poop on everything. Not to mention the 10-12 diapers a DAY you'll be changing. Get something that's comfortable, washable, and easy to get on and off. Trust me.

5) A great, electric, double breast pump. I was fortunate enough to be able to borrow this, as they can be pricey - but if you want to breast feed, this will aid you tremendously. A single hand pump could take you anywhere from an hour to three hours to get what an electric pump could get in 30-45 minutes. And since a good pumper pumps at least three times a day - that's time you don't have.

6) A video monitor. Also a pricey item, a lot of people find this one unnecessary. I, however, LOVE my video monitor. Around 4 months, she started waking up in the middle of the night just talking to herself. To the untrained ear, this can sound a lot like the beginning of crying. With a video monitor, you can check your baby from the comfort of your bed to determine if you really need to get up, or they're just telling their dreams to the crib bumpers. Also, seeing Mommy or Daddy in the middle of the night might equate to playtime.

7)Burp cloths - you can not have enough of these! They will get used for EVERYTHING, from cleaning up spit up to wiping poop off of your hands. They will also get left all around your house, so it's important that one is handy when you need it.

8)A large diaper bag with lots of compartments. It's necessary to separate all of the little things that you need to keep baby happy on an outing for easy access. You don't want to run into a meltdown in Target for 30 minutes while you sit on the floor searching desperately for the soothie and gas drops.

9) A baby carrier. No, not the car seat. One for actual baby wearing. I have the ERGO, and love it. When she is being particularly needy and doesn't want to be put down, I can keep her close to my chest and still be hands free to do dishes or pick up around the house. Katie also uses hers for grocery shopping now that her little boy is too old/big to take in his car seat every time.

10) A stroller, or at the very least a stroller frame. The difference being one is designed to grow with your child, and one is simply a cheap set of wheels for your car seat. Car seats are heavy, and SHOCKER - they get heavier with your baby in them. For all of the doctor's visits, and trips around the neighborhood or shopping, a stroller is a must unless you want your arms to fall off. If you're a runner, get a jogging stroller. They're smooth rides for all terrain, so you can work on your fitness and show little Junior the world.

Of course there are the obvious things - diapers, wipes, towels and washcloths. But these are the things people may not think they need at first - and could end up being the sanity saver we new moms so desperately crave for the first year.

I hope you enjoyed my list. Happy Wednesday!

Love,
Dominique

6 Months of parenthood: What I've learned

My daughter is 6 months old today. Time flies, right? It seems like just yesterday I was pushing her little foot back in after she stuck it in my ribs for the one millionth time.

The past 6 months have been some of the happiest, saddest, most frustrating, most rewarding and most of all - confusing - times of my life. For all of you mothers out there, who have been there, are going there now or are about to be there - here's what I've learned over the first half of Violet's first year:

1) I can't do it all. I used to think I could multitask like a BOSS, but ever since this tiny, time consuming creature has come into my life, things have fallen through the cracks like never before. My house is rarely clean. My bills are barely paid on time. I am the most forgetful I have ever been in my life. Baby brain is very real, and it sometimes sucks. Which brings us to point number 2.

2) My brain is mush now. Anything not baby related is simply no longer a priority, and therefore does not earn a spot in my memory receptacles. This includes (but is not limited to) important dates, extra curricular activities, to-dos, promises, etc. I'm very sorry. I'm hoping this condition improves with time.

3) I want to be just like my mother. The age old joke of the fear of turning into your mother could be very real for you - if your mom is Joan Crawford. My mom, however, is one of the greatest people I've ever known. Not only does she rock at mom-hood, but she's an excellent wife, teacher, and productive member of society. She's the type of woman who can hold it all together, and make you believe you CAN do it all. Even if she can't. And we all know it. Because no mom can. Even the best ones.

4) I don't miss my so-called "freedom." Sure, I'd love to see a movie every now and then, but honestly having a baby has done nothing to hinder my enjoyment of life. I never was one to bar hop, or spontaneously take a trip somewhere. My cozy homebody life just now includes an adorable playmate who constantly wants to hang out with me, so, score!

5) I may never spend money on myself again. Amazing how five little onesies with various farm animals on them completely trumps my need for new work shoes. I may be ragged, but my daughter will always be in style!

6) Motherhood brings people together. I'm not saying it's some exclusive club, but it has prompted me to become closer to people I may not have before - simply over the shared experience of having a child. All children are different, but the frustration and confusion of it all can be eerily similar to what several other moms have gone through.

7)Being a working mother is incredibly hard. Much harder than I thought it would be. I've missed several days lately because she was sick, then I was sick, then she was sick, then I was sick. It's like having one half of your body somewhere else and exposed to new and different germs all of the time.

8) Sometimes I want things to pause and fast forward all at the same time. Some days when she's feeling particularly needy, and she doesn't want to be put down, and my arm is about to fall off from walking around with her attached to my hip, I just think "When will she be a little more independent?!" and then that same day as she's stretched across my lap asleep, her hands above her head and milk dribbling down her chin, I think "Why can't she stay this tiny forever?" It's a constant battle with myself.

9)I would die for my child. In a heartbeat. I wouldn't even hesitate to push her out from in front of a bus and take the hit myself. Her life is so much more precious to me than my own, and I intend to give her every shot at it she's got.

10) I have so very much more to learn. I've grown exponentially since I had my sweet baby, but I know now more than ever that it's only just beginning. In 6 more months she might be walking and talking and 6 more months from then she might be singing and dancing with rhythm (or not, I mean, she is MY kid), and then she'll be a toddler, and maybe a big sister. I know it will all go by in a flash, and as much as I think my life has changed now, I know things are only going to change more and more as she gets older. I guess I better get used to that. And always keep some wine stocked.

Happy 6 months, my darling baby. You're the best adventure I've ever had!

Love,

Dominique 

Happiness...is warm spit up all down the front of your shirt.

I got spit up on this morning. I had just given Violet her morning bottle, and had her little belly pressed against my shoulder hoping for a good burp. As usual, it didn't seem like it was going to happen, so I started to pull her away when I heard it. And then I felt it. The warm dribble that trickled slowly down the front of my neck.

I paused for a moment and closed my eyes, wondering how bad the damage was, and how I was going to clean up without getting her more messy. Then I pulled her back to look at her face, and I was greeted with a mouth covered in spit up in the biggest smile I had seen all morning. She thinks it's hilarious. And probably felt better. I couldn't help but treasure the moment.

I'm crazy, right? Being so happy in a moment that would have made me cringe and gag before I had her. This little human being has me so wrapped around her tiny finger that I find everything she does - including vomiting on me - totally endearing.

I've wanted to be a mom for a long, long time. I knew I wanted to marry Chris from our first date, and from there the desire only grew. But here's the scary part. When I first had her - I wasn't sure I was cut out for this. I wasn't anywhere near postpartum depression, but I had A LOT of anxiety. If you look back to when I first started this blog, you'll see my transition from crazy-freaked-out-about-everything-mom to the now still-freaking-out-but-getting-through-it-fairly-calm-mom I am today.

A lot of this is probably the anti-depressant medication I started to help deal with my anxiety. It's a low dose, but it has helped me tremendously to have confidence in myself as a mother, and to start to enjoy my child. I'm not as vocal about it as I was about my struggles with breastfeeding or my fears about raising an infant, but I am not embarrassed. I needed help, and luckily, I had a good friend who finally convinced me to try it.

I had my reservations at first. I didn't want to be a robot, or stop caring completely. I talked with my doc about it, and he said they were valid concerns - but as with any medication, dosage is key. We would try the lowest dose, and see how I did. If I felt that I was getting  a little too relaxed, we could even cut that in half.

I had to try it. Waking up every night at 2am while V slept soundly thinking about whether or not she's teething, or should I start solids, or what if she has asthma - was NOT working for me anymore. So about a month ago, I started my new pill.

I won't say it was magic - I felt the same for about 2 weeks before I started to notice a difference. I wasn't freaking out anymore. If she coughed or sniffled, or spit up or had a slight fever, I would deal with it and move on. I started to think realistically about how I would take action. If she's sick, she goes to the doctor. If she has a fever, she gets Tylenol. Instead of immediately going to the worst place (she's dying, I know it!!!), I was sensible and calm.

I started laughing more. I started sleeping soundly, and flirting with my husband, and looking forward to each day. I started missing her more at work.Yes, I always missed her a little, but now I can't wait to see her when I get home. I live for her giggles. I live for those moments when I feel spit up down my shirt and see that big ol' grin on her face.

I'm sharing this because I know a lot of people who are struggling right now with their own battles. It's not always motherhood related, and no, I am not suggesting we all start becoming a pill-popping nation and all get on anti-depressants. I'm saying it's OK to feel overwhelmed, and terrified that maybe you aren't as good at something that you always thought you would rock at.

Find your contentment in whatever you can. Mine happens to be in warm spit up down the front of my shirt. And I'm so happy I am free to feel that now.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

Love,
Dominique

The 10 Most Awesome things about having a kid

I'll be honest, I've been complaining about my baby a lot lately. Don't get me wrong, she is the light of my world - but she's also a whole lot of work. That being said, I decided I better start looking for my bright side and make a list of the great things that come along with having a kid. With pictures. Because pictures make it more fun.

1.) Tax deductions. Lemme see them dolla dolla bills, ya'll! And by ya'll, I  mean the IRS, because my little tax deduction is going to be fed right back into her in some way.

2.) They say the darndest things. V isn't speaking yet, but I have four very verbal nieces who have said some real gems in their lifetime. Camryn is particularly hilarious. She once told my sister that she didn't ever want to be poor, because poor people have to drink seawater. What?!

3) One word. Halloween. Finally, an excuse to dress someone else up as exactly what you've always wanted to be. Nothing is off limits with a baby, because everything is adorable. Baby lion? Sure, that's cute, but why not take it up a notch and make a baby R2D2. AWESOME.

4) Chivalry all of a sudden becomes undead. And bonus! It totally applies to women now too. Ever been carrying your baby and your diaper bag and your stroller and balancing it all while trying to open a door? Yeah me too, except now most days men AND women rush to help me because, hey, I've got a cute kid. Even when she's screaming.

5)All of those kid friendly places you want to go but felt weird about? Not anymore! I've been to the McWane center 3 times! Granted, Chris and I went once before we had a child, but now we get to act totally immature and people think we are just trying to entertain her. fools! We act like this anyway!

6)You get to pretend to be embarrassed that your child loves you and ONLY YOU. When they are screaming and crying and yelling "maaaaaamaaaaa," sure, you can roll your eyes a bit and say things like "she's just in that really clingy age," or "she only wants me when she's crying." But you love it. You know you do.

7) Memes. Babies and kids make the BEST memes. Don't believe me? Check out http://reasonsmysoniscrying.tumblr.com/. 

8)Youtube. This kind of ties in to the Meme thing. Ever watched convos with my two year old? I have. One BILLION TIMES.

9)Immediate excuse to literally get out of anything. Don't feel like getting cornered at drunk Cousin Eddie's Christmas party this year? Uh oh! Somebody's babysitter totally just cancelled. Too bad.

10) You get to raise another human being. All the stuff you had to learn about on  your own growing up can now be passed on to your child. Granted, they will always have to learn things on their own too. But at this point your opinions are still pretty relevant to the times, right?

Anyway, kids are pretty great. Happy Wednesday, ya'll!

Love,

Dom