Friday, May 17, 2013

Puppy Dogs and Rainbows Friday

Things that made me shoot puppy dogs and rainbows out of my ass this week:

My silly girl.
Putting myself first.
Curly hairs.
A night out with my husband.
Spring.
Silliness.
Mother's Day.
A trip to Grant's Farm.
With free Lime-A-Ritas.
And donkeys.


Puppy Dogs and Rainbows Friday: I do these posts mainly for me, to remind me on days that aren't so good, that my life is good, overall. I hope you also enjoy them. I invite you to do the same. Link up if you want (I really don't understand how that works) or comment to let me know what has made your life shiny this week. As moms (and you awesome dads that read this), we seldom have the time to see the sparkles in our fog of dirty diapers, whining toddlers and constant need by others. Moral: be sure to stop and smell the unicorns every once in a while.        

Thursday, May 16, 2013

The 5 Worst Places To Have A Playdate



Today I have a guest post from Bad Playdate. Enjoy.

__________________________________________________________________

When I was single I had bad dates in bars and restaurants, now I take my kids on bad playdates at places like animal shelters and a lobster tank at the grocery store. As you can see from the stories on Bad Playdate, bad playdates can happen anywhere. I now present you with my 5 worst.

The 5 Worst Places To Have A Playdate

1. A DRIVEWAY.
An innocent playdate in a driveway can become uncomfortable and dangerous when a nanny gets yelled at by her circus hating boss for making a chalk drawing of a clown. When the defeated nanny throws scalding hot water all over her drawing to wash it away, the playdate gets real.


2. A COLD BACKYARD
It can become uncomfortable when another mom asks you over for a playdate on a cold day and she keeps you outside because her housekeeper just left and she doesn’t want you wrecking her clean house.


3. THE GAP
A shopping trip disguised as a playdate can get ugly and competitive when another mom scolds you for unfolding too many shirts when you’re trying to find your size and then makes a scene by refolding every shirt in a frenzy while the kids go wild. 


4. A LOBSTER TANK AT THE GROCERY STORE
Things can get boring on a playdate at the grocery store lobster tank so be ready to move the playdate to the Starbucks a few feet away. Then when another mom taunts you for paying Starbucks prices for a milk box, you might feel confused.


5. AN ANIMAL SHELTER
You might think a trip to a local animal shelter would be a fun playdate for the kids, until another mom, who is thinking about adopting a morbidly obese cat named Flounder, scares the children by hanging onto the cat for dear life and terrifying it.
 

For the full story on all 5 of these bad playdates, head on over to Bad Playdate. You can also follow Bad Playdate on Twitter and Facebook.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Caption This


Welcome to a new series at I Like Beer and Babies: Caption This.

Here is how it works:
You send me your funny photos. I caption them and share them with your fellow Boozehounds. Got a funny picture you want to see featured here? Send it to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces) and I will work some comedy magic. Or not. It might not be magical at all. It might be crap. Whatever. Send me your pics anyway.

Without further ado, here is the first episode of Caption This.











Want to see your kids on Caption This? Send your funny photos to ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces).

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Making Mama Number One

Once Mother's Day was over and done this year, I found myself getting ready for bed Sunday night feeling unfulfilled. Not because I didn't get enough hand-painted macaroni necklaces from the kids or cliche crap from my husband. But because what I really needed for Mother's Day I could only give myself: I needed to start putting myself first. Not in a selfish way. Quite the contrary. I needed to start putting myself first so I didn't always end up coming in last. Sort of like how they instruct you to put your own air mask on in case of a plane crash. Because you can't help others breathe if you can't breathe yourself. And I couldn't breathe. I haven't been able to for a long time. But I didn't fully realize it until Sunday night.

So I set my alarm for 6 a.m. and decided the next morning would be the day that I started to make time for me. Alone. I would start waking up early and carve out a half hour of time for just me, myself and I. And I did it. I woke up, laced up my shoes and put one foot in front of the other. For three miles I was alone with my thoughts. And every time a negative one came up about myself, I kicked it right to the curb and told myself how awesome I was. How I could do anything. How I have made it through things that no other person could make it through. How I was strong. And smart. And invincible. It was the best date I have ever had. And it was with myself.

We're always asking ourselves, "Did I do enough for others today?" Did I do enough for my children? For my husband? For my job? For strangers? But the real question is, "Did you do enough for yourself today?" Did you make time to remind yourself of all that you have accomplished? Of all that you are. Of all that you are capable of? The only way to inspire others is to inspire yourself.

My challenge to you? Make a date with yourself. Do something just for you. Something that makes you feel better. Stronger. Like yourself. Go for a run. Set an hour aside to read. Cross stitch. Do whatever makes you feel like a better person you can be. Stop beating yourself down and start picking yourself up. Be the you that you want to be. Not the one that you think everybody else wants to see. Then report back with what you did for yourself this week. Comment below and let everyone know that you took time to make mama number one.



Monday, May 13, 2013

Body by Baby

Many of us feel embarrassed of our post baby bodies. Some of us are surprised that we didn't snap right back to our pre-baby bodies. The truth is, no matter how fast you bounce back to your pre-pregnancy state, you will never be the same. Be it from stretch marks, wider hips, sagging breasts, or just a new state of mind about your body, you are now forever changed by the miracle that is childbirth.

So, because Gisele and all her friends make it seem like stretchmarks don't happen, I started Body by Baby. Stretchmarks do happen. So does saggy skin. And saggy boobs. And that is ok. Because we are real women. Our bodies aren't perfect. But they didn't get this way on their own. They got this way because we are fucking awesome and CREATED A HUMAN IN THEM. What's a stretchmark or a muffin top when we actually made life?

This is what a real woman's belly looks like. This is what having beautiful babies does to a girl. And it is awesome:


 
This is Cat. She is the mom of a 21-month-old little girl.

Here is her story: 
I'm Cat. Mom to a 21-month-old beautiful little girl. She's perfect. No, I mean really. She's the shit. Unfortunately, I struggle every day with feeling like a complete failure because I can't shake the last 25 pounds to get back to pre-pregnancy. Stupid, I know. But it is what it is. So thanks to all of you brave ladies who have come before me to expose your tiger stripes to the world. Sometimes you need a little inspiration. :)
 
Thanks, Cat. You are the shit for sharing with us what we all hide from each other.


Body by Baby all started here, but you glorious bitches have kept it going. Feeling frisky? Send me your own Body by Baby portrait and I will share it with all six of my readers the world. Anonymously or not. Your choice. Email them to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail . com (remove spaces).

Friday, May 10, 2013

Puppy Dogs and Rainbows Friday

Things that made me shoot puppy dogs and rainbows out of my ass this week:

Fighting the battle of depression with hopes of winning.

Glass seats at a playoff game.
A trip to the Butterfly House.
With lots of roaches.
And smiles.
And some butterflies.


Puppy Dogs and Rainbows Friday: I do these posts mainly for me, to remind me on days that aren't so good, that my life is good, overall. I hope you also enjoy them. I invite you to do the same. Link up if you want (I really don't understand how that works) or comment to let me know what has made your life shiny this week. As moms (and you awesome dads that read this), we seldom have the time to see the sparkles in our fog of dirty diapers, whining toddlers and constant need by others. Moral: be sure to stop and smell the unicorns every once in a while.       

Thursday, May 9, 2013

This is the Face of Depression

I have always been very honest about my struggles with depression because A: It is a real thing B: It is nothing to be ashamed of and C: If me being vocal about my struggles helps just one person with theirs, it is worth putting myself out there.

So here it is: I have been depressed lately. Really depressed. But more importantly, I have finally decided to help myself climb out of the black hole that I have been living in for the last few months.

When you are depressed, it is damned near impossible to get the help you need. The mere thought of all of the hoops you will have to jump through to get better is overwhelming. Drs, pharmacists, money, time, pride, etc. There are so many obstacles that stand between barely-surviving you and actually-living you that the thought of the work it will take to get better often makes it worse.

Depression is a silent suffering. A person doesn't need to look like a train wreck to be depressed.

Because this it the face of depression:


And this:


And even this:


I was cripplingly depressed in all of these pictures. I may have looked happy and fun on the outside, but on the inside, I was silently dying. And that is the ugly truth of depression. It doesn't come with an identifying rash or a scarlet letter "D". It just comes, and takes over, and smothers the life out of the person it has overtaken. Slowly at first. Then more and more rapidly and aggressively as it wears on.

I am on the path to getting better. Therapy has been great, but it has not been enough to pull me out of the dark depths of depression this time. So I am going back on anti-depressants. So I can be me again.

That's my story. What's yours?

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