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Monday, May 21st, 2012
If you don’t hear from me for a few days please call the looney bins in Palm Springs. I may be in one. My mother used to show up at the psych ward with her typewriter so she could get work done. No sh-t.
My potential disappearance is because we are going on “vacation.” It includes a stop at Disneyland. In reading that sentence, I can’t believe this was my idea.
We are heading to Palm Springs for two nights via land of Mickey. The desert is 105-degrees right now. Fia gets burnt even in the shade. She also gets carsick. Massively, as seen on our horrendous trip out to LA this fall. And Emmett barfs and farts. Constantly. This is going to be a helluva roadtrip.
Anywho, I convinced Phil to take off 2 whole days of work (Gasp! I’m not bitter…) to go to the desert. We hadn’t taken a family vacation since last May in Costa Rica. That’s when I got pregnant with Emmett. Oops. This will be a far different trip. I’m not reading 50 Shades of Grey, therefore this trip won’t involve sex. Just diapers and barf.
Right now, as I sit here in the cozy cafe typing, I feel like a smug veteran mother. I can handle this, right? The hotel asked if we wanted a suite on the 5th floor. Oh, no-no-no I said. I’m a MOM. I know better. I know that lugging a stroller with a raft, water wings, Emmett’s diaper bag, 40 bottles of sunscreen, snacks, and my Kindle (dare to dream) through a hallway, to an elevator, to the pool will take up the entire day. I’m smarter than that. I know the only way to go is a poolside room. In fact, I booked two. They adjoin. This way Fia and Phil can sleep peacefully while Em and I tackle the night.
Yes, this “vacation” is sounding more appealing by the sentence.
I had to research about 15 hotels in the Palm Springs area. The ones my mom friends recommended were full. Then there were my non-mom friends. I got a list of about 5 hotels that had things on their sites like, “no pool toys allowed.” One said, “While we welcome guest of all ages, we are a boutique hotel with an intimate setting and backdrop that is not always ideal for children of all ages. We warmly welcome dogs.”
Well folks, that definitely takes Feral Fia out of the equation. My girl who loves dirty feet and messy hair is pure Mutt. I think this hotel wants the Pomeranians. I finally found a place that has, are you ready? A Splashtopia! Whatever the f–k that means. All I know is when I saw “availability” and “splashtopia” in the same sentence I felt like god was on my side.
I have a list of everything we need to bring. Included on it are our two noise machines (one for each room) and wine. Oh no, please teetotaler moms. Don’t begrudge me on this one. It’s vacation for god’s sake. Which now means survival.
The best advice I have gotten thus far is from a friend who said, “Go with low expectations. You probably won’t find it relaxing, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.”
Yes, in motherhood, “fun” takes on a whole new meaning. I know my babies won’t let me down.
Picture of family vacation via shutterstock
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Baby Travel, boutique, diaper bag, milestone monday, motherhood, noise machines, packing, pool, travel, traveling, vacation, wine | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Have Baby, Will Travel, Mom Situations
Friday, February 24th, 2012
First Best Screenplay
On Saturday Phil and I will be at the Spirit Awards. It’s the independent film version of the Oscars. He was nominated for Best First Screenplay for writing Cedar Rapids. Here are the others he is up against. I suspect 50/50 will win (hard to compete with cancer), but I’m just proud of him for getting the nomination.
What is a bummer is we haven’t even been able to get excited about it. Between his other work projects that have been incredibly stressful and the new baby, plus juggling Fia and getting used to a family of four, I feel like we are just ships passing in the night. I feel like I literally run from one thing to another with no time to breathe. I’m hoping that this weekend will at least give us the chance to revel and reflect on our good fortune. It’s a shame when you have these amazing things happen to you, yet you’re too busy/stressed to celebrate. I need to do the same thing with Emmett. Bask in him gracing our family. I do at times, but so much of my attention is split between him and Fia and life in general (cooking, grocery shopping, paying bills) that I know I’m missing some moments.
I didn’t have time to go buy a new dress. I’m wearing shoes from Target. And I’m going to be really sexy lugging my breast pump with me. But hey, at least we’re getting out for the day. It’s on the beach in Santa Monica in a big tent. Drinks start at 11:30, then brunch, then the awards. I’ll post pictures!
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Thursday, December 1st, 2011
If there were an Ugly Vagina Contest, I would win, hands down. Granted, I wrote last week about how I don’t think the lady parts are very pretty to begin with. But in this pregnancy, I think I’ve taken the ugly vag to a new level. This is something mortifying to talk about. And taboo. I’m diving in anyway because I feel we women are sometimes embarrassed to discuss stuff like this. And yes, I am one of those women. It makes me feel prude-ish. Why? Not sure.
But maybe some of you have also experienced my “condition” and have a solution? Or maybe you have a different embarrassing issue? Don’t let me go out on this limb and be met with silence. It sucks when you feel alone in your “female” issues.
I think my condition is called Vulva Varicose Veins. As the belly grows, pressure is put on your blood vessels down there. Those vessels actually puff up. It’s gruesome.
I’d love to know if Angelina Jolie had this while carrying twins. And if so, was Brad freaked out? Somehow I think celebrities are immune to these horrid issues; that it only happens to us common folk. I would love to be wrong, but we’ll probably never know. (Maybe at her next red carpet I’ll go stalk her and shout, “Hey Angelina: did you have Vaginal Varicose Veins when you were pregnant?” To which she’ll reply, “Why yes I did. And Brad found it very sexy.”)
I did buy a maternity support belt to lift my stomach up and take some of the pressure off. I don’t think it’s doing much though. My OB says it won’t make the condition go away, but it will help it from getting worse. Oh good, so my vag won’t go from grapefruit to watermelon size. Whew. You can buy a fembrace, but then it’s like you’re walking around wearing a diaper. Or these things that Mork might have worn, had he been a pregnant woman. Oh, and to share even more—for me, this condition is only on the right side. So I’m lopsided in my deformity.
On my legs, it’s the left side that’s cursed. I’m getting spider veins. What, is Mother Nature trying to even out the horrors? Wow, thanks. Really appreciate it.
This never happened with Fia. I am now wearing compression thigh high stockings that cost $55 at a medical supply store. And the support belt that has three straps to it. It takes at least 11 minutes to get dressed with my undergarments alone.
Luckily neither of these “conditions” hurt. Though it’s not exactly comfortable either. It feels like I have weights pulling down on my private parts, especially if I stand up after sitting for a while. With 2 months left to go, I still have time to find myself in pain. Bleh. Ugh. Yuck. Argh.
My OB out here is a good-looking guy. I had to get the courage to ask him to take a look. I wanted to get a wax, but I was scared I’d hemorrhage. He laughed. “You won’t hemorrhage. And remember, this office is in Beverly Hills, so wax away.” Then he said he’d seen worse. But I got the feeling I was up there. Like maybe I’d get 3rd place in an ugly vag contest. Thing is, I have yet to get the wax. I’m actually too embarrassed. I need a good aesthetician who has quite literally “seen it all.”
My friends tell me how little I complain in this pregnancy. That’s because if I complained, it would go like this, “Well this morning, my vagina went from the size of an orange to a grapefruit. And has the texture of a cauliflower. And how are you?” No one wants to hear about this. Unless you have been in my shoes before. Or have an equally embarrassing tale to tell. Then I need to hear from you. Come on sisters! Dish with me.
Image: Pregnant Woman via Shutterstock
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Monday, November 28th, 2011
Author’s Note: Join me every Monday as I share Fia’s ongoing milestone (mis)adventures–from potty training to talking to everything in between. Mayhem and mischief guaranteed on Milestone Monday!
Friday is Fia’s 2-year old birthday. What a difference a year makes. Last year I was in tears over the 1-year old milestone. I was overtaken by emotions. It just felt like such an accomplishment to have made it through that first year….especially those first months. I had a little party at our apartment with a few of her friends.
This year I feel almost unemotional about it. Not that it hasn’t been a phenomenal year, but I guess I just don’t feel like making a production out of it, emotional or otherwise. Thus we have nothing planned. Nada.
I did run in a frenzy to Babies R Us last week when I realized it was almost December. I hate shopping. Just thinking about indoor areas with florescent lights gives me a headache. One store plus the Internet is about all I can handle. I don’t think she’ll need therapy down the road for this, but for some reason, I feel guilty for not feeling guilty. I mean, should we at least have a friend of hers over and blow out a candle? (To quote my Brooklyn therapist, “”should” is shit. Don’t “should” yourself.”)
If I dig deep, I guess the one thing that hits me is she’s now officially in “mid-toddler” stage. Right? She’s not necessarily “a baby” anymore. I love it when I’m at the playground and other moms tell their bigger tots, “be careful of the baby.” I will be sad when I’m telling her that. Of course, that scenario is right around the corner with her baby brother coming January 25th. But she’ll always be “baby” to me. To the outside world, she’ll soon start to become “a big girl.” Small sob.
So in conclusion (sorry if this sounds like a book report), I think I’ll just go with doing very little this year. I’ll smother her as always with as many kisses and hugs as she’ll allow. And I’ll watch as she delights in ripping open her presents, more excited about tearing paper than what’s inside. We’ll get a cupcake and a candle. And the three of us, plus Wayne will celebrate. Then we’ll call it a day. And I’ll officially have a 2-year old.
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2nd birthday, baby birthday, birthday, candle, celebration, cupcake, emotional, Holiday, milestone monday, motherhood, second birthday, shopping, turning 2, turning two | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Milestone Monday, Must Read
Friday, November 25th, 2011
Author’s Note: Join me every Friday for a dose of cuteness as I share snapshots of Fia. Adorable photos are guaranteed on Fia Friday!
Had a great Thanksgiving. My two girlfriends came over to help me cook, plus other friends came to eat. We had about 10 people in our new house. Was so much fun to entertain. Here’s the gist of the day:
While Turkey Cooked, We Hiked
Griffith Park is Right Outside Our Door
Fia played with her “older girlfriend” Aggie….
Fia Loves Playing W/ Big Girls
Then Turkey Time!
Turkey Time for Ms Fi
We Are Ready for the Feast
Before bedtime, Fia and Daddy play piano….
Finally, mama relaxes…..
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