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Friday, September 14th, 2012
I complained a lot when we moved to LA last November that I was freezing. Everyone said “Just wait.” They were right. We’re baking now, so we decided to beach it. I wanted to sleep here since the bottom floor of our house doesn’t have a/c.
Earlier this week, Fia and I drove past her favorite thing: “the blue car.” We talk about this car like it’s our pet. We decided to sneak a few pictures. I have no idea who this car belongs to, but it’s always parked in the same spot. Afterwards, she kissed and hugged the car goodbye. Then we drove past it 3 more times that day, and the next, and even this morning.
Last night we had tickets to opening night of Book of Mormon. Happy to report that I actually went shopping in anticipation, so no last minute catastrophes. I only had one drink so I wouldn’t break an ankle. What an incredible production.
Double decker buses took us to the after party. Fun! And oh-what-a-scene. I think I was one of the only women there without fake boobs. Ya gotta love what breastfeeding does!
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Tuesday, May 8th, 2012
My boobs have become a secret weapon in survival. And not just because they feed my child.
When Fia came, it was all me all the time. I was drowning in her barf and tortured from lack of sleep. I became resentful that everything was put on me, even though yes, I am the mom.
Flash forward to Emmett. I am the picture of calm. That’s not an adjective you would typically use to describe me. But between hypnotherapy and the beauty of the boob, it’s a totally different scenario the second time around. Phil on the other hand seems to have postpartum frustration. He stomps around; I sit in lotus. He’s angry; I meditate. Here’s what shifted:
Fia’s melting down at dinnertime? Sorry honey, I gotta go feed Emmett.
Fia’s awake at 5:51 every morning? Sorry honey, Emmett’s hungry.
When you have the second baby, the parenting of the toddler falls more on the dad. Or at least in our house. I’m not kidding when I say that I get an extra hour-plus of sleep every morning because of this. AN HOUR. PLUS. Do you understand what that means? That’s like winning the lottery every day. I lay in bed with my little man as he nurses and we drift off to sleep. It’s heaven.
Cut to Phil downstairs with Fia screaming for Elmo, spilling orange juice and crying for eggs (Phil hates eggs and can’t make them. He claims he will barf. And we have enough barfing in our family with Em’s reflux).
At around 7 or 7:30 (the latter if I’m feeling greedy), I serenely float down and take over. Phil goes back to bed for an hour. I cook eggs, clean up the OJ and read the paper. I hold Emmett and Fia watches Sesame. Or we all play. It’s great. And to be fair, Phil wakes back up refreshed. Don’t feel too sorry for him–I’m not killing the guy.
At night, as Phil is trying to get Fia to eat, I’m sitting in the living room, a glass of wine in hand, watching the news, nursing my boy. Ahhhh… this is the life!
I’m lucky to have such a hands-on husband. I don’t know what I would do if he weren’t. But I wouldn’t have married someone who didn’t look at our relationship as a partnership of equals. I will admit that the scale is tipping a bit more in my favor lately. I’m taking it–guilt free. I carried these babies for 10 months. I endured another c-section. And I know that eventually everything circles back to the mom. This is a temporary reprieve.
When Emmett’s reflux started to increase last week I panicked. Not only because I want to breastfeed him for health reasons, but for my own personal Zen. Hell, if I keep getting these kinds of breaks, I might breastfeed him until he’s 4. Or 14.
So for all you moms out there expecting baby #2, this is my big secret—use the boob. It’s survival for us. And justified because it’s also survival for your baby. Nothing wrong with that.
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babies, barf, bottle, breastfeed, breastfeeding, formula, hypnotherapy, reflux, sesame, spit up, toddler meltdown, toddlers, wine, zantac | Categories:
Mom Situations, Mom Tricks and Tips, Must Read
Friday, May 4th, 2012
We took a picture of Fia at about 3 months laying on her then-brother, Wayne Sanchez. Now she has a real brother and the cat is just, well, a cat again. But we thought Emmett deserved a turn as well.
Can you tell who is who? Ignore the color of the clothes. Both outfits are/were Fia’s. Phil thinks our babes look identical. I don’t think so…though definitely brother-sister. And isn’t Wayne the picture of perfection as well?
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babies, baby, baby pictures, cat, fia friday, identical, photo, photography, picture, pictures, toddler, Wayne Sanchez | Categories:
Friday, March 9th, 2012
Parents.com and I want a different picture for my blog post. One that actually has me looking like, well, a parent. So on two different occasions, Phil has tried to snap something of me, Fi and Em. I wanted Wayne in it as well, but we can’t even get the three of us, much less the cat. Kudos to every child photographer, like my friend Cindy, who captures beautiful pictures of babes and makes it look so easy. Phil took about 50 photos–none that are really useable. Then we bribed Fia with a lollipop and got this one. But I hate my hair. Not sure what to do….
Here’s the bribe:
And for fun, here’s a close-up of my little man:
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babies, cat, child photographer, newborn, Parents, photo, photography, pictures, taking pictures of kids, Wayne | Categories:
Fia Friday, Mom Situations
Friday, June 3rd, 2011
Mama and Baby on Beach
I was so adamant about not having children, I debated getting my tubes tied at 30. My mother begged me not to. (Obviously I listened.) Still, it is with great irony that I find myself an “official” mommy blogger.
Pre-Fia, I’d cross the street to avoid the little Petri dishes. Diapers? Disgusting. Playgrounds? I’d rather have the plague.
My neighborhood didn’t help matters. I live in Park Slope, Brooklyn–perhaps the biggest breeder neighborhood in New York City. A place where wee little inmates run the asylum. We’re featured in articles and blogs—one equates Park Slope to a battle zone between “the ballers” and “the breeders”. For those without children, you can’t overstate the annoyances: strollers on every inch of the sidewalk, oblivious parents who bombard quiet coffee shops with their babies, intimate restaurants that quickly become cacophonies of chaos when toddlers are unleashed.
No, my husband and I certainly didn’t move here six years ago to procreate. The reason we moved here is it sits right on beautiful Prospect Park and we’re runners (or were before we had Fi and P90X).
But then, through various events, we changed our minds. We decided to give up birth control and “see” what happened. At 39, I figured my ovaries were toast anyway. Off to Mexico we went where tequila poured free, and boom, Ms Fi was on her way.
Throughout my pregnancy I spent many a therapy session worrying that I’d love my cat Wayne Sanchez more than my daughter. Thank god nature does its job well. Wayne still gets spooned every night, but it’s Fia who rocks my world. And the fact that I love—not loathe—babies is nothing short of a miracle.
So now I’ve been given this platform on Parents to basically write whatever I want about my life with Fi. A golden ticket covered with baby barf.
I hope to bring an honest perspective to my blog that’s not indulgent, irritating or precious. I hope I don’t bore you. And that you’ll come back and visit. Lots.
I find it a privilege to be a parent and an honor to write about it. And thank god. Because if I hated it, or loved my cat more than my daughter, then I’d probably be in the loony bin. And who wants to write from there?
FOR A YEAR, I BLOGGED IN CONJUNCTION WITH THE SHOW I WAS HOSTING, CALLED MY FIRST BABY. HERE ARE MY PAST BLOGS THAT SPAN MY FIRST YEAR WITH FI.
What it Means to be a MOM–the feelings of early motherhood
The Fog Will Clear–How early motherhood does get easier
Baby’s Not-So-Cute-Milestone: Diaper Rash–a traumatic event, followed by another involving a red bum and a lot of cornstarch
Living in the Moment--how having a baby gives you a chance to indulge. And play. Especially if you’re a Type-A person.
Not A Vacation--did I really say in the previous post that having a baby allows you to indulge? Play? Feel like you’re on vacation? Was I on drugs?
Have Baby, Will Travel--tricks for traveling with baby/helpful advice and tips
Navigating the Minefield of Milestones–the good and bad of baby milestones
Travel Fiasco–My Scattered Self–a shit show, for lack of a better word, at LaGuardia. I must be losing it.
Picky Eaters–great advice from my pediatrician for picky eaters and avoiding the terrible two’s
Fia Turns One--the emotional journey leading up to your baby’s first birthday
What Travel Does For Me…and Fi–my first babyless vacation. And why I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Return From My Baby-less Vacation–I find out things weren’t so smooth while I was away. But I don’t feel guilty.
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babies, baby barf, being a mom, blogging, Brooklyn, mom, motherhood, new mom, parenthood, parenting, park slope, pregnancy | Categories:
A Fi Grows in Brooklyn, Fearless Feisty Mama, Must Read