Just Another Manic Mama...

Well, I'm back! The past month or so has been very eventful. My husband accused me of losing interest in my blog after just a short while, as I tend to get excited about things and go on a kick only to quickly get bored and move on to the next, but not so. While I admit it was hard to stay motivated about this with all that was going on, I'm making a conscious effort to get back in to the swing of things. Having a bit of an identity crisis though...love all the craft/home/recipe blogs as a reader, but don't have the time, patience, or talent to turn my little blogging endeavor in to one myself. Plus, as an apartment dweller, it's also hard to decorate a small space, or you know, bake cookies in a mini oven that has a propensity to burn bottoms and leave tops raw. And I'm not snarky enough to really be one of the really hardcore bitterly funny mom-bloggers. So I guess that leaves me as just another hum-drum, run of the mill, thinks she's funnier than she really is kinda girl. But I'm having a good time with it, so that's all that really matters.

So long story very short, I am a little unexpectedly a stay at home mom now. Which is awesome that I get to be home with the baby and not miss any of her milestones and get to raise her the way that I want to, but also a little scary because for a young couple on Long Island, this is definitely unheard of, and I'm not going to lie, going to be very difficult to get by. But it was the right choice for now, and we'll make it work.

So in my time home, I have discovered Pinterest. I am OBSESSED.  Love love love it. Will never actually replicate anything I find there, but who cares? My husband can't wrap his head around the concept though...why do you need it? Why can't you just bookmark whatever you want to save? I explained that it helps to have a visual reference instead of just a list of URLs, but that just garnered me a blank stare. I thought men were visual creatures.

And speaking of visual, I am happy to report that I am down approximately 14-16 pounds since completing the 30 Day Shred. Have fluctuated a little upwards again, but the overall trend is down, and now I have only 20-25 pounds more to go before reaching my target weight. To kickstart the process, my mother bought me 1 month of membership at her local independent gym. This is an experience beyond anything I could have imagined. I have only been going a few days now, but I've already managed to have a stationary bike accident that resulted in a bruise on the back of my calf the size of Texas, witness the elderly grinding to Pour Some Sugar on Me, and generally just get schooled by a bunch of middle aged women who obviously had their last kid about 10 years ago, i.e. have had years to perfect their body. It's slightly demoralizing, and I've realized that full wall mirrors are the enemy. And Zumba just really makes me want a fajita afterwards, so then I get really pissed. Models are bitchy because they're hungry all the time! I feel like Mama Goodall in this place, and this is just one big sociological experiment. In that town, designer workout duds and diamonds are the norm, and these women take working on their fitness seriously. It's a little isolating, because I am a pretty young mother, and the other SAHMs that are there are much older, so no one seems to be very open to me yet. There are a few friendly faces, but overall it has just gone to prove my theory that my former town is full of self important ash-holes. I meant to start watching that new show Suburgatory, because it seems like it must have been written by someone who grew up there, even though I think it's supposed to be in Connecticut, but same diff. Missed the first episode, and they're not online, so I guess I'll just have to live the real thing instead!

Now That's Class or Does This Candy Corn Clash With My Hair???

My FAVORITE holiday is approaching...Halloween! Every year I get all up in a tizzy trying to think of the best costume, best decorations, etc. My husband and I have had some pretty entertaining ones in years past. Our first Halloween we were a doctor and nurse. Then we were Gilligan and Mary Ann. Then the following year was the saddest in my then 22 years...we weren't anything! Due to the holiday falling on a weekday and work schedules, it just did not work out. I felt empty. Yeah, I'm an adult. We then made up for it with a vengeance the following year by being an 80's hair band rocker and groupie. I threw my long red nurses wig on my husband, and dolled him up à la Poison on the Look What the Cat Dragged In album cover.

His 9 year old cousin told him he looked like a girl. His grandmother asked him if he was a woman. He said no, a rock star from the 80's. She then said "Oh....but a woman rock star, right?" Thus proving that both the old and the young truly tell it like it is. I still don't think he's forgiven me.

The following year after that we were getting married a month after Halloween, so once again did not have time for a full blown costume, so I had to make do with slapping on a tail and some cat ears. Hackish. Then last year we decided to be Popeye and Olive Oyl, but since it was too expensive/too easy to just buy the costumes, we decided to make them. The end result was passable, but I don't think we'll ever look at quilt batting and pantyhose the same way again. We found out we were expecting our little Sweet Pea 3 days before Halloween last year, and while the obvious choice would be to just reprise the same costumes the next year with her in tow to complete the little family, I surely couldn't do anything that simple. So I have been brainstorming since pretty much that day what she could be.

Shortly after she was born, it hit me like a ton of tawny colored bricks- candy corn! I thought it would be cute to match my little copper penny's orange-ness to her costume. But since I don't like to do anything the easy way, instead of getting the pointy headed bunting version, I wanted to create a more abstract vision. I found the most adorable candy corn colored tulle tutus, headband, diaper cover, and shoes on Etsy, a candy corn onesie on Cafe Press, and candy corn striped BabyLegs warmers. All for the low price of....well over $100???? For a 4 month old's costume that will likely get peed all over before we even leave the house and anyone gets to see it???

So she's being the $24.99 Lucky Lil Lamb from Party City instead. Score.

 The lamb is lucky because it's Halloween, not Easter. Womp womp.

While at Party City, I started to peruse the adult costumes. The "Cheerio" costume caught my eye, and being a newly converted Gleek, I just had to have it. Still rocking a body comparable to a 5 month preggo, I thought it would be the (in)appropriate choice to channel a little Quinn Febray. Because nothing says family fun holiday like a little teen pregnancy joke! Showed the costume to hubby when I got home and he asked then what could he be? Clearly Mr. Shuester, all he would have to do is wear his normal Gap ensemble and get ready to explain himself to his cousin and grandmother again that yes, he is dressed up. But if we're going by looks alone, then the obvious choice would be Dr. Carl Howell (wait, a character not ending in opoulos?) ...which would be hilarious on about 500 levels.

So I have about a month and a half to whittle myself down enough that I'm not an embarrassment clomping around in a cheerleaders outfit and to convince hubby to play along. I'm going to need all the help I can get!

Mommy and Me Jeggings Are Just an Excuse Not To Have To Zipper Your Pants

I have been uninspired as of late. Being sick for 6 days will do that to you. But in my downtime I've found a TON of cool blogs, that I'm hoping to use as inspiration for holiday crafting and cooking and networking.

Luckily, my husband has been pitching in to help with the baby and the chores while I lay on my deathbed. He went grocery shopping, and came home with a few goodies that weren't on the list; peanut buttery Edy's Ice Cream goodness for himself, and fat free frozen yogurt for me. It was a sweet gesture, while still getting the point across. Have a treat, but you're still fat.

It's going to start getting cooler in the next few weeks, and I'm dreading not being able to wear the maternity skirt and gauchos that I've been living in for the past 3 months. Silly me washed and put away all my maternity work pants think I wouldn't have to wear them again until baby number 2. Surely I would be back to my svelte self in 3 months.

I'm not the brightest bulb in the Christmas tree lot.

I ABHORRED my maternity jeans. They were saggy and the belly band was tan, brilliantly designed, and always showed unless I was wearing a shirt that was 3 feet long. Since I've got about 5 years before I can even think of fitting in to my pre-preg pants again, I decided to take a cue from the baby and go looking for some leggings. Went to Target, and got a pair of jeggings and the standard black. Clearly was very optimistic about my body, and bought a size Medium. Got home to try them on, and pretty much couldn't fit my ankle inside. Cried silent tears as I had to exchange them for a size that I never even saw during my 7th grade "large and in charge" stage. Came home, and was relieved, yet devastated when they fit.

But they sure are comfy.

Now I'm at that awkward phase where my maternity shirts are starting to get too big on me, but my regular clothes still don't quite fit. So my options appear to be either look like a bag lady, or look like trailer trash. I can't bring myself to splurge on an interim wardrobe that I hopefully would only wear for a few months. So until further notice, I will no longer be wearing real pants. Vive La Jeggings! (Ok...Vivent Les Jeggings...you can take the girl out of the linguistics program, but you can't take the linguistics program out of the girl.)

Cardio Works? And Other Suburban Legends...

For one, Mommies do get sick sometimes. It should not be allowed, but it does happen. I emerged from the hurricane 5 pounds heavier and with a wicked sore throat. Not having a sore throat for years, I quickly remembered how awful it is. And for fear of passing it on to the baby, I've been limiting my contact to pretty much just feedings, diaperings, and transferring from bouncy seat to swing. I can't take not being able to smother her with hugs and kisses all day! I'm hoping that this passes in the next day or so for both our sakes.

Perhaps because I can't swallow and haven't been eating so much, or because of my new rigorous exercise routine, I seem to have lost that hurricane weight and then some. Thanks to the "30 Day Shred" phenomenon that was so popular amongst the wedding planning set a few years ago being brought back to my attention, I'm well on my way to becoming a hot mama. Not that I was a particularly hot pre-mama, but at least I was thin. Now all I have is my sparkling personality to get me through. So yeah...definitely need to work on my body as well. Day 1 has me down 5 pounds, and while that is likely scale error, I'm going to take that. But try gasping for air when your throat feels like you swallowed razor blades. No pain, no gain, as they say...

As my leave is rapidly dwindling down, I've been trying to tie up all loose ends before going back to work. I've been getting the baby book in order, putting photos in to albums (including some wedding photos, I'm that behind), organizing drawers, etc. etc. etc. I'm having a tough time thinking of how I'm possibly going to be able to get everything done that I need to in just a few short hours every day. Cook, clean, take care of the baby, still read or write or do something for my own sanity's sake, spend time with my husband. Something is going to have to give. I think it will be cleaning.

Baby When the Lights...Go Out....

Old school.....kick it!

Mama's back out of the dark from the hurricane. And not a moment too soon. Though I really can't complain, the baby, contrary as her mother is I suppose, slept her best ever. 2 month developmental breakthrough or the "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding" marathon that we endured up until the lights went out? I guess we'll never know.

And speaking of 2 months, we had the dreaded 2 month shoot em up appointment today. The baby had a shiz fit breakdown because we took her clothes off, she's very modest. But held up surprisingly well for the shot portion of it. Weighing in at a svelte 10lb6oz, standing tall at approx. 22 3/4", and chowing down on a dainty 4 oz bottle this means one thing...my baby is skinnier than your baby.  If I was a lesser person, I'd sign her up for modeling or pageantry.

In You-Tubing this little gem, the side-bar pulled up all related 90's UK/Irish pop group videos, including B*Witched. What a trip down memory lane...though in actuality a filthy little song wrapped in a catchy ditty. I think I'll have to go Tipper Gore on the baby once she's old enough to listen to music to prevent her from listening to trashy European pop. She'll learn to appreciate the real classics from an early age...such as Mr. Big. The bigger the hair, usually the better the music. I have a theory that the music you listened to when you were in 4th grade is the music that you gravitate to towards the rest of your life. So in my case, this would be 1994's/1995's wave of college rock/alternative/and that last glimmer of hair bands once they lopped off a few inches and stopped wearing makeup. Since music has really only deteriorated since then, I don't even want to imagine the drivel that the baby will be listening to in 2020. Well, not my baby....maybe yours.

I Totally Miss My Phonetics Courses...

sat·ire [sat-ahy^uhr]   

noun

1.

the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like, in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc.

2.

a literary composition, in verse or prose, in which human folly and vice are held up to scorn, derision, or ridicule.

3.

a literary genre comprising such compositions.

Turtles are the New Monkey, and the Perils of Online Shopping...

In the months preparing for the arrival of the baby, I stocked up on all things monkey. Onesies, socks, mitts, toys, bathrobes, everything. If you met myself or my husband, you would understand. We were fully prepared for a little monkey, with a full head of dark hair and dark eyes just like mommy and daddy had at birth. You can imagine our shock when she came out nearly bald, with red-toned fuzz, and eyes that kind of blue that you know are likely going to stay blue after the requisite year of baby blues. Huh...just realized that's probably where the saying came from. For someone so book smart, sometimes I can be a little slow! Anyways...the baby looked more turtle than monkey, so that's what I've been affectionately calling her. With her little fuzzy head and penchant for bobbing her neck and sticking out her tongue, the resemblance is uncanny. So you can imagine my dismay when on a recent shopping trip, I noticed the tides have turned. Monkeys were SO last season. Now, the same towels, robes, onesies, that just months ago were adorned with monkeys, are covered in TURTLES. For real? Now I feel like an unoriginal hack, and while tempted to buy all things turtle for my little turtle, can't seem to rationalize buying the same exact items featuring a different animal.  I guess I do have some conscious despite becoming a mommy spendthrift.

Time at home in front of the computer is a dangerous thing. Especially when there are so many things to BUY. As of late, it seems that my maternity leave pay has been used solely to provide for the baby. I'm being selfless, and still can shop! It's the best of both worlds really. Besides the staples like diapers and formula, there's toys to be had. Oh, the toys. Sure, she can't use many of them yet, but she will be able to soon. A playmat, a jumperoo, a swing, a bouncer, a tea set, a stacker, rattles, stuffed animals up the wazoo. And books. I had a field day at Border's going out of business sale. While deeply depressing, and part of the mourning process for my lost youth, I at least was able to add to the small library we are amassing for the baby. She's very advanced. She's already saying Maaaaaaaaaaaaa at the ripe old age of 2 months. Don't tell me otherwise. Oh what's that? Carter's is having a 25% off sale? Well, she does need some long sleeves for Fall. We can't have the baby being cold after all.


And I'm not really counting the money spent on photography and the printing of the countless pictures we're taking. This is all for posterity, and should be tax deductible. But damn that starts to add up too. And you can't have all these pictures just lying around...you need frames, albums, photo boxes, etc. And with the holidays coming up, there's Halloween costumes to purchase, Christmas outfits to select and photo cards to be created and sent...well, you get the picture.

I find myself wishing I was on the same mailing lists as my mother, just so I could receive those country-inspired junk catalogs in the mail, to "peruse" through to decorate the humble abode. And by peruse...well, probably buy. And the deliciously tacky and ironically named "Touch of Class". One must have a Safari room right next to the taffeta and marble Italian Renaissance room. And in looking for houses and seeing the interiors of some of them...well, it seems that this is a very popular catalog indeed amongst the Long Island housewife set. Remember what money can't buy kids...

It seems the turtle has finally been pacified after a fussy morning of not quite finishing her bottles and a minor poopsplosion. I'm going to chalk it up to being freshly changed in to an outfit covered in monkeys while being wrapped in a blanket covered in turtles.