Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Thank god for mother's intuition

Monday morning, The Cool Cucumber was scheduled to have a new set of tubes put in and his adenoids removed at 6:15 a.m. Like last time, I was leery about the adenoidectomy.  I decided to squash my inner "Danger, Will Robinson!" and go ahead with the adenoid removal.

The night before surgery, I prayed to God, my brother and my mother-in-law to either help the surgery be a success or give me a big, unmistakable sign that it was a bad idea. Well, a sign I sure got.

Monday morning at 3 a.m., mere hours before we were due to leave for the hospital, I noticed the light in our hall bathroom on a ad a familiar sound echoing within the porcelain. Yep, The Quiet Contemplator had a tummy bug. You really can't get a bigger sign than that other than the damn same-day surgery wing of the children's hospital burning own.

Worried that the tummy bug would take its usual course through our family and knock us down one by one like a row of vominous dominoes, I called and canceled the surgery. Because who wants to be tossing their cookies when their throat has been sewn back together a few hours or days prior? Not I, said the fly.

Well, today The Cool Cucumber is tossing those cookies, over and over again. His sister was so sweet to share her esophageal parasites with him. Their close like that. If I had blown The Quiet Contemplator's spewing off as just an anomaly and went ahead with the surgery, The Cucumber would be busting open fresh stitches with an incredibly high risk of hemorrhaging (one of the biggest risks of adenoid removal). Excellent.

Crayons aren't the only thing they like to share...

Now was this tummy bug a sign, or just a coincidence? I may never know, but I know I sure as hell have had enough bad vibes about the adenoid removal that I won't be going forward with it unless it is 100% necessary. As I said last time, I don't believe that adenoid removal is a bad thing AT ALL. The Cool Cucumber just has problems coming out of anesthesia and I believe is at an increased risk of bleeding after. Plus, when your mommy instincts kick up as much as mine do when adenoid removal gets brought up, you listen.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Why I Burned My House Down

We just got back from a family camping trip, and by camping, I mean we stayed in a cabin with air conditioning, a bathroom and a refrigerator stocked with cheese, chocolate and wine. I like to rough it when I get in tune with nature. I'm a baller like that.

Anyway, I was just sorting through all of the wet towels and shorts my son had crapped through when a friendly little stowaway crawled out of our dirty laundry: a spider. Um, hell-to-the-no, mother fucker. Your ass ain't got to go home but it sho nuff ain't staying here.

Actor portrayal of actual events.

As the spider leisurely crawled out of a pile of our dirty drawers, my daughter saw it and said, "Mama! Remember that book Be Nice to Spiders? We should save him!"

Me: You're right. I will pick him up and take him outside.

The Quiet Contemplator: OK!

(Insert TQC's instant loss of interest and her leaving the room. Then insert me crushing the spider to death with a shoe and sending him to heaven, because I am surely not letting some immigrant spider hole up in my casa while I sleep.)

RIP, spider. I hated you well for the short time I knew you.

Warning: a spider was harmed in the making of this post. Why? Because fuck spiders, that's why.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

The Confessional

For the confessional, all the ways Abby was a shitty mom yesterday:

My daughter's daycare said she needed diapers. I remembered to throw them in the car, but they did not make it from my car to her room. When I picked her up, she was wearing a random diaper that was the wrong size (she is a size 4 despite being almost 3. All the kids in her class that still wear diapers are size 5. So I have the double punch of her not being potty trained at almost 3 and being underweight).

I had to work late last night. She was at daycare from 6:30 am to 5:45 pm. So much for 8-year-old me swearing up and down to my mother that I would never let my kids stay in daycare all day like I was stuck doing.

I used ice cream to bribe her into eating more of her eggs and cauliflower (scrambled eggs and those microwave bagged steamed veggies being the extent of my culinary skills). Then I dropped the amount she had to eat to get her ice cream. Yes, I negotiated with a 2-year-old. And she got the better of the exchange.

When I gave her a drumstick (the ice cream kind) she complained about the nuts. I picked them off by hand, forgetting to wash my hands first after putting dirty dishes away first.

I left her up in the living room to watch Dora while I cleaned the kitchen.

When her dad came home at 7 from work, I left her and locked myself in my room to do some work I brought home.

I'm off the pill and we are actively trying for another. After a day like yesterday I really wonder what kind of even shittier mom I would be with two kids.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
ILBAB says: First off, girl, did you really email me from a Hotmail address? I thought those things had went the way of the dinosaurs.

Second off, that sounds like a winning parenting day to me. I ALWAYS forget the damn diapers at daycare. ALWAYS. And it isn't like you left her chained to a radiator all day. PLUS you got her to eat protein, vegetables AND dairy. Then you got the house cleaned, helped her brush up on her Spanish and gave her some daddy-daughter bonding time. I suggest you have at least five more for the betterment of society. You rock this parenting thing. Keep up the good work, mama.

The Confessional is now open. Have something you need to repent for? Feel free to send me your sin and I will help your purge your demons.   

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Because nothing is cuter than a pooping baby

Happy Monday, Boozehounds. Enjoy this clip of my friend's baby dropping a deuce. Pooping babies make me giggle.


If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Tips for New Fathers

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Frozen meets What Does the Fox Say

We found this video and then my daughter's head exploded. You're welcome. And I am sorry.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

What I am getting my husband for Father's Day

If you haven't figured it out by now from reading my nonsense, I am just going to spell it out for you: my whole family is a I am about to provide further evidence of that by what I am getting ADD Daddy for Father's Day.

 First off is the customized card:

Don't be trying to steal my man, ladies...
Get it? Mother fucker...

Wow, this photo really deserves a post of its own to tell it's story, but for now, let's just say that this picture of my husband has provided hours of entertainment for our friends. To me, it just proves how awesome my husband is for letting me use it on our 'merica party 4th of July party invitation.


This shirt is a nod to my husband's love for, and similarity in character to, Charlie from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Best. Show. Ever.

Dude. This.

I bought this flask as a tribute to the reason's my husband would need a flask in the first place: his amazing and adorable children who drive him to drink. How freaking awesome is this?

Okayest. Ha.

And last but not least, this coffee cup is a tip of the hat to one of my husband's favorite photographers-turned-authors, Dave Engledow.

For these and more awesome Father's Day gift ideas, check out Zazzle. They are a great go-to for gifts for any occasion. Honest.

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

This post was sponsored by Zazzle but you Boozehounds know I would NEVAH EVAH subject you to anything I didn't think was amazeballs on my own. For realzies. 

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Labor and Delivery Advice

Labor can be an awesome experience, an awful experience or a little bit of both. After birthin’ two babies, I have learned a thing or two about how to make it go a little smoother. Hope it helps some of you out there. enjoy.

Drink Red Raspberry Leaf Tea
During my third trimester, I drank red raspberry leaf tea every day. It is supposed to tighten your uterus up so it is strong like bull when it comes to poppin’ that watermelon out of your lady bits. If you have read my son’s birth story, you may want to punch me, but you will for sure know that I must have done something right for how smoothly it all went. Whether it was the tea or just my child birthin’ hips, it is worth a shot. FYI, it has to be red raspberry LEAF, not just red raspberry flavor.

Work It
Another thing I did to help with my labor before I even started thinking about episiotomies and c-sections was exercise. I hit the gym a few times a week to keep my body in decent shape. I did light cardio, but I also did some strength work. I think my body being strong had a huge affect on my birth experience. I did squats, arm weights and pushups off raised bars right up until I delivered—man did I make the dudes in the weight room REALLY uncomfortable. Everything I did was pretty easy stuff, but it is damn effective at keeping you in shape when you add in an extra 20 pounds of baby and burritos to each rep.

Don’t Sweat the Small (literal) Shit
When I was pregnant with my first, a very wise friend gave me a great piece of advice, “Don’t study up on the birth, study up on the baby. The birth will be over in a matter of hours, but the baby will be here for a lifetime.” After two kids, I wholeheartedly agree with this statement. Birth plans are kind of bullshit and can set you up for failure. Don’t read up on and analyze every single step of the birthing process. Chances are you will deliver in a hospital, where a whole floor full of trained specialists will walk you through everything while nature does what it is going to do no matter how you plan it. And don’t worry about shitting on the table. If you are that concerned about people seeing you poo, do what I did and keep the hubs above shoulder level. All the people below that have seen more hooha than Ron Jeremy. What’s a little turd between friends, anyway?

Go With the Flow
When you get to the hospital, just do what the nice people ask you to do until you get checked in and then kind of do the same throughout the process. Resist the urge to micromanage, especially your nurses. They are saints that deal with crazy ass pregnant ladies all day. God bless them! Overall, just trust the experts but feel free to let them know if you have a concern or questions. And most of all, BREATE. Hyperventilating when you are having contractions is not fun.

Take Drugs
The first most important rule of labor is: TAKE DRUGS. The second most important rule of labor is: TAKE DRUGS. Not only should you take the drugs, but you should take them the second they are offered to you. God put someone on this planet smart enough to invent the epidural. Say a quick thank you to the big man above for being so generous and order yourself one up. There is no reason to go through any pain. I didn’t and the most painful part of my entire birthing experience was getting the IV. Thank you, Jesus. Oh, and for all of you strong women out there that give birth without drugs, here is a small round of applause for you. Hippies. (Just kidding. Go, Ricki! Go, Ricki!)

Drugs are good.

Bring Distractions
Labor can be a long process and there is only so much entertainment your smartphone can provide. Bring movies, books and other things that you like to do when you are in horrible pain and unable to walk or move your legs. Or just when you are bored. Whatever.

For my second birthing experience, I did a little research on hypnobirthing. I know, I know, I know, but hear me out. I didn’t take a class or read a book or anything, I just perused the internet to see what it was all about and learned a few things. It is kind of awesome. Basically, while you are in labor and waiting for the baby to make its a debut, just close your eyes, breathe, think peaceful thoughts, keep saying to yourself that you are doing an amazing job, that your body was meant to do this, feel your body opening up and the baby moving down. (Make sure to tell your partner to shut the fuck up before you do this so you don’t stab him with your IV for asking you if you care if her grabs a bite to eat since you are just “sitting there”.) I swear to god, this worked for me. My nurse came in and checked me and I was at 6 cm. Then I decided to try hypnobirthing. I kind of “blacked out” for a while and when I “woke up” I felt like I had to poop, got checked, was at 10 cm and the rest is history. I swear. Hand to Wine.

Make friends with your nurses
If taking drugs is rule number 1 and 2, all the rest of the rules are “be nice to your fucking nurses”. Seriously, if you walk in and are a bitch to your nurse right away, I can pretty much guarantee you will have a bad birth experience. Those ladies and gentlemen are there to help you, not be your servant and take your shit because you are in pain. Say “please” and “thank you” to them and after you are done birthing, give them a gift to thank them for all that they have done for you. Preferably chocolate. Or wine. Or both. Also, be prepared to have more than one nurse as you will possibly be laboring through a shift change. This sucks balls once you get attached to a nurse, but it is just the way it works. Be nice to the second nurse too. Even if they aren’t as awesome as nurse #1.

The After(birth)math

SLEEP alone
Now that you have birthed a tiny little human that you never want to be apart from, hand that pink pile of perfection off to the nurses for the night and get some shuteye. Seriously, don’t have the baby sleep in your room while you are in the hospital. Whether you had a great labor or a terrible one, you are exhausted and now is the last time you will have uninterrupted sleep for the rest of your life. Take advantage of it so you are the best and most alert mommy you can be when you head home. Leaving the hospital already strung out from lack of sleep is going to make the journey home and the settling into your new life HARD.

Take More Drugs
Be sure to take drugs after your delivery, too. They prescribe them to you for a reason. Your “area” will have received a beating 18x as bad as a pack of midgets could deliver with their tiny fists. You are not going to get hooked on aspirin and leave your baby crying in its crib while you get your next hit of Aleve. Take what the Dr prescribes you as directed. Once you feel pain, it is too late and you will be a crabby mommy and have a crabby baby.

Shit (sometimes doesn't) Happen(s)
Since you have now taken drugs and are a comfortable and happy mommy, one more note: take some stool softeners. Both while in, and after you are out, of the hospital. Believe me, after delivering your baby, pooping will become the scariest idea in the world to you. Painkillers tend to slow down the poop pipes. The last thing you want to be worried about when you are already in enough pain in the nether regions is a painful #2. If you take the stool softeners everything will go a little more…um…smoothly.

Oh! And take the hospital snot sucker home. These work 100x better than the ones at the store and when you need one at 2 a.m., you don’t want one that sucks (well, that doesn’t suck).

That’s all the wisdom I have to lay on your for now, ladies. Good luck and Godspeed!

If you share this post, I will buy you a pony. I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.
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