Let's Just Go Ahead and Talk About Gay Marriage

First, a little background. 

I have a journalism degree. I haven't ever done a darn thing with it, but there was really one reason that it's all I ever wanted to learn about. My grandfather. My mother's father passed away in a car accident when she was just 16, so I never got to know him, except through her stories. One of my favorites was about the time he work for the Birmingham News.

My grandfather was approached by some of the janitorial staff to write up a list of grievances to represent them. My grandfather was told not to do this, as it would surely result in a strike. Believing in their cause, he did it anyway. And he got fired.

I feel, in a way, that I've failed him. I believe in something, and I've stayed silent, out of fear. Fear of what some of my dearest friends and family will think of me. And let's be honest, I've never really believed my opinion was that important. 

Important or not, there's something going on all around me that I have to talk about. Gay marriage has become the hot topic of today, particularly in my home state. I've always been quick to say that I don't know what the big deal is - but it IS a big deal. I believe in gay marriage. 

There, I said it.

I think about my daughter. My sweet two year old, and how all I ever want for her is her happiness, whatever that looks like. I shudder at the thought of something denying her that, especially if she has worked so hard for it. 

Dear baby girl, I know I don't have to worry about your basic human rights. Someone will always be fighting for that.

But what about your basic human privileges?  The ones that earn you respect, and kindness, and happiness? Why would I not fight for those? 

Everyone who earns it has a right be treated with respect and kindness. And to file their taxes jointly. And be recognized as legal parents. And be normal, contributing, loving members of society.

And when my daughter grows up, and she hopefully meets the love of her life, I can't wait to meet them. 

Happy Wednesday to all!

Love,

Dominique 

Two Years of Parenting (And An Entire Year of Toddler-Hood): What I've Learned

Hello everyone! Happy Monday! It also happens to be Groundhog Day, and for whatever reason the Birmingham Groundhog decided to take the day off. I mean the guy works one day a year, and he took it off? I can only assume he is the one millionth victim of the Flupocalypse that this winter hath brought upon us. I hope he feels better soon, and as I had no other choice, I had to look up ol' Punxsutawney Phil, who saw his shadow. Again. Of course. Because he lives in Pennsylvania.

But I digress. Seeing as it is already February, we are just two short weeks out from my sweet V's 2nd birthday. This second year has been as equally a doozie as her first, although very, very different. No more are the days of snuggles, bottles, and quiet mornings. Now we live in the age where her vocal chord volume is permanently set at eleven, and time outs are an unfortunately frequent part of our day.

Still, despite all of the crazy and chaos, I'm really going to miss this special age. This year was the year for milestones. The year she went from baby to little girl, and grew not only in inches and pounds, but she grew a voice and a sense of humor and a really hilarious wicked side. But now I would like to share with you my most valued lessons, to be taken with a grain of salt, as always.

1) Find your high ground. No, not for battles, but for keeping things out of wandering tiny hands that don't need to get in them. A designated "stuff" mantle, shelf, or cabinet is highly recommended for things like your phone, ipad, car keys, wallets, or anything of that nature. Those ten tiny pudgy fingers are faster than lightning.

2) Find your bribing weapon. In our house, a tiny pastel colored marshmallow, or "nummies" as we call them, works absolute wonders when I don't have the patience or the time to try and get my child to lay down so I can change her. This also works to get her out of the bathtub, into her chair, or anything that I generally need her to do with the least resistance.

3) Know that almost everything is just a phase. We went through a horrible time with our cars eat for a month or so, but now it's like it never happened. This too shall pass, moms.

4) Prepare to be subjected to most repetitive torture imaginable in the form of favorite movies, TV shows, songs, or books. This is the time when your kid is learning what he/she likes and doesn't like. And what she likes is probably going to be what she likes today, tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now, who knows? I've seen Mickey Mouse Three Musketeers every day for the past three weeks.

5) Never think that the above rule applies to food. What she eats today might be thrown to the ground in disgust tomorrow, and then gobbled up like it's her last meal the next day. Hang in there. Meals are one of the hardest things to have to do three times a day, every day. And giving her bologna and hotdogs twice a week because she loves them for a while isn't going to hurt anybody.

6) If you can't get them to nap, enforce a quiet time. Especially if you are staying at home with them. Everyone needs a break, including you. Little bodies need time to rest, so put them in their room with the camera going, give them a few books and shut the door. Then repeat after me: "I will NOT clean during this time." It's tempting, I know. But save that mess for when they are awake. Spend this time watching girly shows your husband doesn't like and eating a meal you don't want to share. And cookies.

7) Try your very hardest to stop comparing your toddler to everyone else's. This year will be full of leaps and bounds, and some stalls and delays. The only person worth listening to about a concern is your pediatrician.

8) And also along those lines, don't believe for a second that your child getting older and more self sufficient means you have to be ready to have another one and do it all over again. Families come in all shapes, sizes and ages. Maybe you could be baby ready tomorrow. Maybe you can't fathom the thought of going through that again yet. Or ever. Maybe you thought you were ready and then you went and had margaritas with your friends, and remembered that pregnant women can't have margaritas and maybe just one more month of waiting would be ok. Whatever your thoughts on expanding your family, it's normal, I promise. And when people ask you when you're having another one, just say something like "When we can afford diapers again, am I right?" and everyone will agree diapers are expensive and we'll all have a good laugh and it will be forgotten.

9) Kiss those chubby cheeks every single day, as much as you want, even if you have to hold them down to do it. Day by day, that baby fat goes away, and one day in the not so distant future, getting your child to kiss you will take an act of congress for a while.

10) Let them make their own decisions, within reason. It's hard when you're going on an outing, and you've picked out the perfect matching outfit with the cute shoes and bow, and she wants to wear a yellow daisies onesie with a purple tutu and green socks. Just let it happen. The look of pride on her face will be worth it alone, and these are the outfits you'll remember. And always, always take a picture.

11) Let the messes happen. Give them washable crayons and a piece of paper, and try not to cringe when they miss completely and draw on the table. It will come off. The water on the bathroom floor from the splashing will dry, as will your clothes.

12) Don't fear the "terrible two's." Obviously, we haven't reached this part yet. And honestly, it doesn't happen to all children. Some are just well behaved, laid back kids. Just think of it as the "trying two's." Their world is getting bigger and bigger, and they're learning as they go.

Besides, I hear three is much, much worse.

Haha!

Well hopefully that helps with you moms out there that are about to venture into first time toddler hood. Thanks for listening, as always.

Love,
Dominique

An Open Letter to Anyone Who is Contemplating (or already in the process of) Making 2015 "The Year We Decided to Have a Baby."

I know how you're feeling. Maybe you've been together a while, maybe you haven't - but something about this year just feels right in the expanding the family department. So you talk it over (or don't) and before you know it, everybody you know is weighing in on your impending parent-hood.

You'll hear things like "Make sure you're ready," and "You can't be selfish and have a baby," and "Say goodbye to your social life."

And these things are all pretty true, in their own way. You'll also hear things like "It was the best thing that ever happened to me," and "I can't remember ever being so happy."

And to the people who said those things, they meant it. My little lamb is coming up on her second birthday, and I still remember very clearly the conversations I had with Chris about expanding our family. We considered everything (what can I say? I married a researcher.). We thought about our finances, and our jobs, our living situation, and what we were giving up and what we were gaining. 

But here's the truth: You're never going to know what you're giving up, and what you're gaining, and to what degree your life is going to change until you have that baby in your arms.

The variables are innumerable. And you better believe that the unexpected is right around the corner. I expected that my salary would be well worth keeping my job, and I would just use my vacation time and sick time to spend extended weekends with the grandparents, or take trips to the beach. 

Violet's first year, most, if not all, of my sick and vacation time was spent at my house, taking care of my sick baby who has a stomach bug, or RSV, or a double ear infection. By the time she was 10 months old, I was let go from my position and suddenly forced into stay at home momhood. 

And it was wonderful. We adjusted our finances, and for 6 beautiful months, I spent every waking moment with my toddler. I never knew how much I would love it - in fact, I always thought I would HATE it. 

Long ago, when I was still cool enough to have a social life, I spent a good amount of time in the trendy bars on weekends, grabbing drinks with my friends. When we decided to get pregnant, I knew that would either no longer be happening, or at the very least, become immeasurably more expensive adding a babysitter to the mix. But you know what? I've been to a bar maybe a handful of times since Violet's arrival almost two years ago, and that's been fine by me.

What I miss the most is leisurely Sundays, sleeping in, then maybe deciding to go to a movie on a rainy afternoon. Those are the things that don't happen anymore. Planning a night out is easy. It's your spontaneity that goes out the window. 

Maybe you've heard some "tips and tricks" about saving money with a new baby. So you're going to breastfeed for a year, and make your own baby food, and use generic diapers and wipes. And maybe you will. A lot of people pull this off. 

When I went back to work, my workload alone barely allowed time to pump, and on top of Violet's growing appetite, my breastmilk dried up like an old well. We made it three months, and then formula was introduced. (I will never NEVER regret this decision. It was right then, and it was good for all parties involved.) I tried generic diapers, but with two pale, blonde, light eyed parents, Violet didn't really have a chance at not having sensitive skin. So back to pampers we went, and it's been that way ever since. I also found that finding a deal on organic store-bought jars of baby food is about as much effort as I had strength for when it came to solid food. 

We all have our crosses to bear, am I right? 

Believe me, I'm not telling you this to bring you down, or discourage your planning. What I'm stressing to you is flexibility, courage, and most all - confidence. Be confident in all of your decisions, even if you never saw yourself having to make them. You will know what is right for your family, and whatever you choose will work out fine. Be flexible, and know that plans change, and it's not always for the worse. Be courageous, because you're diving head-first into the most joyful and confusing time of your life. It's basically like that Taylor Swift song, except about having a baby and not being 22. Or if you're 22, AND having a baby, then, watch out. But you're not 22. I don't know anyone that's 22. 

And lastly, congratulations! Having Violet was (one of) the best things that has ever happened to me, and I can't remember ever being so happy. ; )

Love,

Dominique 

New Beginnings

Good afternoon, ya'll! Happy (most likely) first day back to reality for most of you! I, for one, am genuinely happy to be back to my boring, monotonous and joyful life. And even if it is so boring and monotonous, it is very joyful. I find joy in every morning that we all wake up feeling well. I find joy in every toy I step on in the playroom because we are fortunate my daughter has so much to play with. I find joy in her, even if sometimes she is mean. as. a. snake to me.

Lately, she's picked up some habit of shaking her little finger at me while saying "no, no, NO mama!"

It's so funny. I have to hide my laughter, because she really shouldn't be telling me no just because I am asking her to stop whatever it is she's doing. But God help me, she sees my smile in my eyes. I have a feeling I'll be fighting that battle for the rest of my life.

These past two weeks have not always been so joyful, though. I have a secret. Many people know it, many people don't. A whole lot more are about to (if I may be so bold as to assume people read this).

I was pregnant.

Was.

I had the greatest joy of seeing a tiny heartbeat on a large monitor, and the greatest sorrow of learning it had gone away.

First, let me say, I am fine. I am strong. Stronger than I ever give myself credit for until I am forced to just accept it. I am a strong woman. I tell you this because I am not looking for pity, or looking to force you to share your hardships with me (although I will always gladly hear them).

I'm sharing this because my very soul heals the best when I share. I am an over-sharer. And if you will allow me to be so selfish, I will tell you my story, in the shortest and most abridged version I can manage.

The switch flipped for me around September. I went from "Holy cow, I am not sure I even want another kid!" to "BABY. NOW."

And in November, I found I had gotten my wish. I got three very faint double pink lines, the same I had seen at just 4 weeks with my Violet. I shared the news with family right away, but waited until my 8 week ultrasound to share with my precious coworkers. I was only measuring 7 weeks, but there he/she was, with that little flutter of a heartbeat, and and the body of a seahorse. My co-worker told me "he" looked like he was wearing a Santa hat. I definitely agreed.

When I didn't get sick around 6 weeks, I was counting my blessings. I had gotten nausea for 5 straight weeks with Violet, but I knew all pregnancies were different, so instead I relished in my good health, and daydreamed about a little boy with Violet's face and Chris's green eyes.

At exactly 9 weeks, I saw something troubling. I won't get into the details, but I called my nurse right away, and she told me what I was experiencing was normal. I accepted that answer. Five minutes later, I called back. At my insistence, she told me to come in for an u/s, "just to check."

I called Chris, because even though I was so certain I was being paranoid, I needed him there. He quickly agreed to meet me, and we went into the dark room with knots in our stomachs. Violet was playing with her stroller, none the wiser of what was going on.

The U/S tech confirmed my worst fear. The baby had stopped growing, and the heartbeat was nowhere to be seen.

I just kept crying, and saying over and over "I knew it, Chris. I knew it."

From there, everything was a blur. They brought me through some back door to see my doctor, who, after offering me her condolences, started to give me my options. From her suggestion (although she in NO way pushed this one me), we all decided that it would be best for me to have a surgery done, and soon.

All I could think about was Christmas. Weird, huh? I was so sad. But all I could think about was going home for Christmas. It was one week away. We were going to Mobile, and now more than ever I needed that trip to see my family. She told me the surgery could be done as soon as the next day, so we went home, and I called to schedule. 1:30pm on thatThursday, I was admitted to the hospital. 3 hours later, I was going home. No pain. No grogginess even. It's as if it never happened.

And I think that was the saddest part of all.

My father-in-law had offered to take V with him for the weekend, so Chris could take care of me, but she got a nasty bout of stomach virus (her second round in two weeks) that she quickly gave to him, so late that Saturday night, she was home with us. I was so glad to see her. I watched her sleeping that night and cried again, this time because I was so thankful she was there. My light; my sweet V,

It's been only 13 days since my world went from Mama of Two back to just Mama. But, instead of dreading the upcoming January, I find that the timing couldn't have been better. A new year, full of new hope and new family decisions. Definitely going to be full of growth, and happiness and frustration, laughter and tears, and pulling my hair out and growing it back. I'm not the first of my friends and acquaintances to go through this, and I won't be the last. I have amazing support from everyone in my life, and I am so lucky to have had that. I don't know what I would have done without it.

Right now I'm just looking forward to the future. And working on my poker face so I can get through Violet's "trying two's." And potty training.

And so I will end this with one of my favorite lines of one of my favorite movies, spoken by the one and only Dolly Parton, as Truvy:

"Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion."

Happy New Year, everyone!

Love,
Dominique

I Can't Be the Only Mom Who is Terrified of Potty Training

So, I know it's been a long, long while since I wrote anything. I could go into how I was busy, and holidays and whatever, but I won't. Too much ground to cover, people. And if we're being honest, not a whole lot has happened recently until now.

Out of nowhere, it seems my 21 month old wild child has started showing all of the typical signs of being ready to potty train. And what I mean by showing signs, I mean she started acting weird about stuff, so I googled it like you would google symptoms on WebMD. Unlike WebMD, however, the answer was pretty clear (not ebola! Yay!)

My first thought was, "What?! I'm not ready for that. I wasn't even going to THINK about that until she was two, at least. What's her problem anyway? Diapers are great. They catch everything, and she never has to slow down or risk Ebola in a gas station bathroom because you got lost."

Well, it may have not been that dramatic. But I was selfishly hoping to keep her in diapers for a while longer and relish in my (reasonably) clean home.

So now I spend my time on Amazon researching potties. Do I go with a full toddler potty or just the seat attachment and get a step stool? I should probably get one that can do both, right? How about this sesame street one? Does that look like a friendly place to poop? How should I know what's friendly? Friendly places for adults generally only have to be clean.

And pull ups or training pants. What's the point of a pull up anyway? It's just a diaper that you don't unlatch. It still feels like a diaper. A mom's dream, right? But my baby won't know the difference and will continue to go whenever and where ever her little heart desires because she's basically in a diaper still.

So my mom is a firm believer in training pants. Also known as "Super thick absorbent but not leak proof underwear." "She has to get uncomfortable," she says. "It'll be FUN," she says. Well she didn't say that last part (and after five kids, she would know.) What about my comfort level? What about all of the surfaces that may or may not smell like urine in my house from now on? Minnie Mouse chair? The couch? The amazingly-still-looks-good WHITE carpet in the playroom? Her crib? Her beautiful crib, with it's teeth marks on one rail and her lavender bedding I bought to match her pretty name.

So I look at these training pants on amazon, with their pretty pink flowers and I think "You're trying to ruin me."

But I think she might be right. I mean, my sister's house and my brother's house don't smell like a cat lady's - and they both have two girls.

And so we have an Abby Cadabby (with real flushing sound!) pink potty chair arriving Friday, and I guess I'll add some training pants and pull ups (for naps and day care) to the list as well.

Sigh. Goodbye smells like nothing playroom.

I hardly knew ye.

Love,
Dominique

Staying "Relevant"

Good afternoon! 

I remember when I had started the hunt for my new occupation after spending 7 months at home with baby boo that my first stop was a staffing agency. I was in the market for a job, not a career, and it seemed like a good place to start.

When I was meeting with the staffing recruiter, all of the questions seemed predictable enough. "What kind of hours are you looking for," and "What type of work can do you?" But the one thing that stood out in my mind as I was discussing my needs was this unexpected statement:

"Well it's good to stay relevant."

Oh. Was I not relevant anymore? Because instead of going right back into a 40 hour work week where I would certainly remained stressed, I had chosen to spend what little time I had at home focusing on my daughter? 

As always, I mean no offense to working mothers. I was you, and I will likely be you again, but the truth is, I couldn't do it all. Not at that point. Not even at this point, now. 

I knew what she meant by it. That in the professional world, the longer you are out, the sooner you are forgotten. But still, I thought, women choose to do this every day. They make this huge family decision to basically take an unpaid CEO position for a small corporation, and still become "irrelevant" to the rest of the working world. 

Running a house and raising a child is no joke. It takes skill, patience, and organization. You have to make a budget, keep the office clean, keep up with the inventory, order supplies, and entertain your client, all while working under most likely the most tyrannical boss you'll ever have. 

If I could post my stint as a stay at home mother on my resume, it would read something like this:

Stay At Home Mom                                                                         December 2013-Present (part time)

• Manage fiscal year spending by creating and editing budget based on ever revolving needs
• Maintain bookkeeping and payment of company expenses 
• Provide services for client pertaining to sustenance, entertainment, physical and emotional needs
•  Maintain a well functioning office by cleaning, checking inventory and purchasing supplies
• On-call twenty four hours a day, seven days a week for the great foreseeable future

Salary: $0

If you're an awesome CEO, you may even use some of the tools you used at the office, like Excel spreadsheets or Quickbooks. Or maybe you're like me, and you write stuff down on a napkin that may or may not have been used, and clip coupons at night to save a little money. Or use Auto pay on stuff you'll never remember to pay on your own, and use turbotax for your taxes because you can't afford an accountant. 

However we CEO's choose to run our business, we make sure it runs, right? And even though I am in the small percentage of people who do the half and half, I know which of my jobs is going to have the biggest impact in my life, and especially in my daughter's, and I work my butt off to keep it going strong. 

Remember you are relevant. No matter how much you are paid or unpaid. Or how much you fail or triumph. Or how much you sometimes hate your job. As long as you try your hardest, and work through the rough times, things will turn out wonderfully in the end.

Happy Wednesday! 

Love, 

Dominique 

I Thrive on the Chaos

Violet has a recent obsession with rocks.

That's an odd way to start my blog, isn't it? Well I have an endgame with this, I promise.

Anyway, her recent obsession with rocks led to a very terrible, very long and very frustrating battle with getting her in her car seat today so she could go drive someone else crazy for a few hours, and I could go to work.

Chris was trying to strap her in while at the same time trying to take away the two giant, yet swallowable rocks that she had her tiny fists coiled tightly around, and she was not. having. it. Those rocks meant everything to her. She wanted them forever and ever and ever. She wanted to carry them around into her teens and room with them in college, and have them in her wedding and make them her kid's God parents. At least that is how she was portraying her relationship with them to me.

But, being the paranoid person that I am, I insisted she give them up for the ride.

Did I mention right before this she squatted in the garage and clearly pooped her new, fresh diaper?

So after the struggle died down (mostly because I put Garfield on the backseat DVD player for her), we went along our poop-smelling merry way to her daycare. Even though she was in good spirits when we pulled into the parking lot, she decided it would be best to make it to the first steps that she usually is more than anxious to climb up aaaaaaaaaand freeze. No talking, no walking. No paying attention to anything but the golden flowers just within in her reach that she HAD to mush. So I pick her up and force her into the door, and we start the walk down to her room. She spies a large pink sparkly pillow on a couch just outside her door, and as she has done every day for the past two weeks, grabs it to take it to her room.

I just let her do this. Fighting her over a pillow she'll forget about doesn't seem worth my time, and her teachers let her do it, so why not? Today, though, she decides that a good place to plant herself and poop filled diaper down is right OUTSIDE the doorway of her room, and she was going to "noodle" her body into a deadweight limp toddler before I could get her up. So I pick her entire body up (and the pillow) and hand her over to her teacher, apologizing for her obvious foul smell and then peacing out as quickly as I could.

About 5 minutes later I am pulling into the parking lot of my work when I see I've missed a call from Chris. I call him back, hoping what he'll tell me is that the plumber who visited our house for 2 hours this morning magically fixed everything and all of our laundry problems are solved.

Nope. Instead it's a message of how he had to write a $217 dollar check and that now when we do laundry, it will just flow into our basement AND into the gaping hole in the front of our house.

I take a deep breath. I am NOT letting this defeat me. I am NOT letting this stress me out. Despite everything that happened in the short first half of my day, I smile as I think about adding to our family. I can handle this. Hell, I can handle anything. Violet is a mess. A HOT mess. Terrible twos have hit, and it has been some kind of ride in our home lately. But I don't care. I wouldn't have it any other way. Never a dull moment.

Sometimes I have days where I think I am absolutely crazy to want to add to the chaos. But I think growing up in a large family of seven people has prepared me well, and almost made it impossible for me to enjoy the quiet. And one day it will be quiet, and I know I'll want all of this back. My greatest adventure.

And I'm happy because tonight I'll go home, I'll feed and bathe my inevitably filthy toddler, and then I will settle down with a glass of wine and watch the Auburn Tigers defeat Kansas State. It's a good day. War Eagle my friends!