Monthly Archives: January 2012

Quote of the Day

“The discovery of a wine is of greater moment than the discovery of a constellation. The universe is too full of stars.”

~ Benjamin Franklin

“The man knows his shit!”

~ Courtney Wood

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Random Thought: What babies and serial killers have in common

Whenever my daughter is sleeping peacefully (with her sweet little tush pointed in the air,) after about an hour or so, she always shifts in her sleep and lets out a groan.  I hear her on the monitor and it freaks me out.  You know in horror movies when you think the serial killer is dead, and the scantily clad socialite sits down to call 911/make out with her savior/check the damage to her manicure… and suddenly the serial killer is behind her with a knife, groaning from his mortal injuries and slashing her to bits?!  Yeah… it reminds me of that.

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What my daughter taught me today: Stop taking everything so seriously

My daughter, Lyla, is nine months old and growing by leaps and bounds every day.  But as much as I have taught her (how to wave bye-bye, how to clap and how to give kisses, not to mention some serious dance moves)  she is constantly teaching me as well.

For example, Lyla is almost walking now, and this new sense of independence has had the unfortunate side effect of her never wanting to be constrained.  Trying to insert her into a car seat, stroller, and any kind of jumper or activity chair is  a grave offense, punishable by an embarrassing tantrum.  This includes her high chair.  She has a wonderful technique of both stiffening her legs so I can’t insert them into the leg holes, while making the rest of her body loose and floppy, so I can’t strap her in.  It is highly effective (I should try this the next time I am in my Gyno’s office for a pap smear) and totally frustrating.

So today, as Lyla and I wrestled for the umpteenth time, I got…quite…frustrated. As I was trying to pin her down long enough to strap her arm in and she is twisting and turning out of my hands, I was teetering on losing control of my anger.  Lyla looked up at me, with my wild hair and crazy eyes, and started laughing.  And you know what… I started laughing too.  I was so caught up in my own frustration, that I failed to stop and ask myself, “What’s the worst thing that could happen if she won’t sit in her high chair? Or if she won’t eat her lunch (also a problem)?”  The answer is… nothing.  She gets all the nutrition she needs from her bottles.  If she doesn’t want to eat, she doesn’t have to.

So, I sat her in my lap instead and when she wouldn’t open her mouth to let me squeeze in a bite of food, I laughed it off. When I was at the store and I had to put her in her car seat, and she started screaming like I killed Barney and everyone was staring at me with their judgy, accusing eyes, I laughed it off.  And when Lyla had a temper tantrum because I wouldn’t let her insert a cracker into the DVD player, I laughed at her.  And she looked at me, and she started laughing too.

I guess we both have a lot to learn… and to teach… each other.

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Day Dreamin’: What would I do if there were 30 hours in a day

There’s never enough hours in the day.  I know I thought this was true before I had a baby, but that’s when I thought trying to squeeze in a nap between going to the gym and getting a massage was stressful.  So if I invented a machine that gave me 30 hours in a day (it could happen) what would I do with those extra six magical hours?

1)  Take a shower. Every. Single. Day.

2)  Take the time to actually wash my hair in the shower.  Oh… and shave my legs.  And… actually wash the soap off before hopping out because multi-tasking mom’s daughter, who is in the bathroom with her, is attempting to eat a hairball out of the trash can.

3)  Take my daughter to all of the Mommy and Me Music, Swimming, Yoga and Wine Tasting classes that I always say I am going to take her to, but never have time.  Whoops… that wine tasting class is actually mine…

4)  Take a wine tasting class.

5)  Read a book.  One that isn’t technically a magazine.

6)  Take all of those fancy workout classes – Pole-a-Pallooza, Yogalates, Cardioballet, HipHop Bootcamp, jamocaalmondfudge…ummm…jamoca almond fudge…

7)  Eat ice cream.

8)  Make this blog all pretty and cool with beautiful photos that I have shot myself.

9)  Learn to shoot beautiful photos.

10)  Sit down and have a nice chat with a friend on the phone.  A chat that isn’t happening while I am multi-tasking by also driving, exercising, grocery shopping, eating or peeing.  A chat that isn’t actually a text.

11)  When my daughter falls asleep in my arms, spend 15 minutes just holding her and contentedly staring at her total perfection, rather than rushing to put her in the crib so I can work/clean/cook/shower/play Words With Friends (highly addicting.)

12)  Invent a new machine that gives me 50 hours in a day, because that’s how long I would actually need to accomplish all these things.

That’s would I would do.

What would you do with a few extra hours?

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Don’t Carpe Diem


I love this. She explains so well what many of us feel, but don’t know how to put into words… or are too afraid to.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

Adventures in breastfeeding

After nine months of having a small human almost permanently attached to my breast (a feat I haven’t accomplished since college,) I am finally weaning my daughter from the boob.  Now I am going to work on weaning my husband back ON the boob, since I think he has come to fear my milk torpedoes… but that’s a story for a whole different blog.  Aaaaaanyway, while moving from the breast to the bottle is freeing in many ways – no more worrying about which medicines I can take or how many glasses of wine I can drink, or trying to discreetly cover up my moneymakers while nursing in public with a daughter who seems intent on giving the world a free show (you’re welcome Los Angeles)– I also feel a little sad about it.

Breastfeeding is truly an incredible thing.  It is amazing that a woman’s body can produce the only real sustenance that a growing baby needs for her first year. It is also a very intimate bonding time between a mother and child, and selfishly, a role that only a mother can provide. And it makes me a bit sad to give all this up.  But not only do I feel sad about ending my adventures in breastfeeding, I feel guilty.  When my husband politely asked what exactly is in the formula we are feeding our daughter (a valid question,) I snapped back, “Idunnoandstopmakingmefeelguilty.Whydon’tyoubreastfeedherifyouaresoworriedabout it??!!”  Over-sensitive much?

But it’s not entirely my hyperactive hormones’ fault.  Doctors, nurses, parents, friends and most of society make you feel like you are a horrible person, akin to a mass murder of baby kittens, if you don’t breastfeed your baby.  Now, I know that “Breast is Best.”  I know that breast milk builds your babies immune system and fights off illness and guarantees them either a Nobel prize or an Oscar. I know that there are about 8 million, 42 hundred thousand ingredients in breast milk and only 5 in formula.  I know all of this, and it’s why I chose to breastfeed my daughter.  But I also know that every person is different.  Some women cannot breastfeed – they don’t make enough milk or they get mastitis or have a variety of other reasons why their bodies simply say no.  Some women have multiple babies at once or their bodies stop producing when they go back to work. For some, breastfeeding simply doesn’t work with their lifestyles.

I know that this is a very sensitive subject, and I am not in way encouraging women to NOT breastfeed their babies.  It is a remarkable and beautiful thing, if you can do it.  What I am encouraging women to do is to support one another, no matter what our choices are.  Parenthood is hard enough, and mothers do enough self-flagellating without having to bear the judgment of everyone else. Offer other mothers your support, help, and advice…not criticism.  And most of all, tell them if they’ve forgotten to put their boob away after nursing. (It happens)

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Random Thought: On baby dolls…

Are all baby dolls SUPER creepy, or have I just seen too many “Chucky” movies?  And why do little kids scream in terror at people with glasses or vacuum cleaners, but snuggle right up to a baby doll that cleverly “poo-poos” or whose eyes suddenly pop open when she sits up.  Or a baby doll dressed as a doctor.  If you are at a hospital, can you honestly think of anything scarier than a baby doctor?!  That’s even scarier than the slutty nurses at Halloween.

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Random Thought:

Yesterday I caught myself frustratedly asking my daughter, “Why do you want to play with everything you’re NOT supposed to play with?!”  As I sat there with my hangover from too much wine and stomachache from too many desserts, I realized that some things never change.

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Loving Right Now: A little light reading

If I told you that my 8-month-old daughter and I were just settling down for a little light reading of “Pride and Prejudice”  would you think I was a bit of a Tiger Mom?  What if I told you that it is actually a sweet children’s version (think:  1 English village, 2 Rich Gentlemen) with fun pictures, beautiful enough to eat.  In fact, my daughter actually did.  Seriously cool…at least for a nerd like me.BabyLit Pride and Prejudice

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