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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.

Meditate
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.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Dear new mom,


Dear new mom,

I know you are having a hard time right now. I promise things will get easier soon.

Life is different now, but it won't always be this hard.

Your life has changed so vastly in such a short time that you sometimes wish that you had never gotten yourself into this situation. But I promise that it will get better. Very soon.

Though it currently feels like this will be your life for the rest of your life, it won't. You will start to get little glimmers of your old self back, little by little. One day soon you will have a sense of self again. And some self-esteem to boot.

I promise that the sleepless nights won't last forever. One day you will sleep through the night and wake up and run to your baby’s crib to make sure they are still alive because they slept all night.

Know that you are not the only one who looks at their baby and resents them sometimes.It is normal to not like your baby sometimes. You still love them, and that is all that matters.

Know that it is okay that you are sometimes annoyed by your baby’s constant needs. It is annoying. But necessary.

Fuck the perfect Pinterest mommies who seem to have it all together. They don't. They cry themselves to sleep every once in a while just like you do.

Also, those people who keep telling you to enjoy every minute of this precious time? They are assholes. Don't sweat the days where you feel like you didn't do enough with your baby or that you didn't create life altering Disney-esque memories. There will be plenty of time for that in the future. Right now just try to get through the day without nut-punching your partner. I know that that is a task within itself.

Right now there is a good chance that you resemble a sea hag who is covered in spit up. Don't worry, you will be pretty again. You may not ever get back to the former self you remember, but you will be better. You will be stronger on the inside and that is what makes you beautiful. What's a few extra pounds or a stretch mark here or there when you have given and sustained life?

If you are now a stay-at-home mom who feels like she will never have a life outside of her kids again, let that go. Once you get your feet back on the ground, you will make new friends and rekindle friendships with old ones. You just have to accept that the friendships may take on a new form.

And if you are back to work and wondering why you even bothered having kids when you barely get to see them anyway, don’t worry, that feeling will go away. I know you feel like both a crap employee and a crap mom right now, but you are neither.

No matter what kind of mom you are, just be patient and kind to yourself until the tides turn. Trust me, they will. Eventually.

Being a mom will always be hard, but it will get easier. I promise. Little by little, day by day.

And remember, no one is as harsh of a critic about how you are as a mom as your are on yourself.

You are doing a great job.

Just hang in there, mama. You got this.


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, April 30, 2014

News flash: I am weird.

For those of you that have been around here for a while, the fact that I am a bit strange will come as no surprise to you. I share too much, make an ass of myself too often and have absolutely no sense of shame. So when the lovely folks at Zazzle offered me a chance to try out a few of their goods, I actually felt a bit sorry for them. Because they had absolutely no idea what they were getting themselves into.

They probably didn’t think that I would order up things like this:

http://www.zazzle.com/polyester_throw_pillow_16_x_16-189271445174968378
Because who doesn’t need a pillow that displays Fatty’s bitchy resting face?
Or this:

http://www.zazzle.com/grammar_geek_theyre_there_their_coffee_mugs-168759867777268535
This was actually so cool my husband stole it. Bastard.
And a few of these...

Most people probably don't print pictures of their kids crying...

Or, god forbid, these:

Come on, these are AWESOME!

My overall thought on their new offerings? Amazeballs. Seriously. I used them years ago to make a shirt for my husband that said, “I don’t have ADD… Oh look! A Penny!”. I hadn’t been back since but once I did check them out again, I was amazed by all of the cool crap they have now. They are like an Etsy store for artists that offers personalization.

AND, they were cool enough to offer a 15% off code to my readers: BEERANDBABIE (expires May 15). Use it to get yo momma something special for Mother's Day. Enjoy, Boozehounds!

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, April 15, 2014

Harvey and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Twos


My son has recently entered the terrible twos. Well, I am not sure if that is what is happening or if he is possessed by a demon. I'm hoping it is demon possession because that is way easier to fix.

Its bad. Real bad. I mean so bad that those of you looking to expand your families should stay tuned because I may soon have a gently-used two-year-old up for sale in the next few weeks. Or hours. Fuck.

Here are just a few things that have elicited a toddler-size rage in my son in the last TWO DAYS:
  1. I made him put on socks.
  2. I made him throw away the banana peels he was grinding into the carpet.
  3. I made him stop standing in the freezer and throwing all the food onto the ground.
  4. I made him put on pants.
  5. I tried to feed him a carrot.
  6. I gave him milk when apparently he wanted another beverage.
  7. I made him put shoes on.
  8. I put on Thomas instead of Spider-man.
  9. I wiped his snotty nose.
  10. I made him stop licking the cat (seriously).
  11. I made him put a coat on.
  12. I gave him the wrong color woobie (blankie)
  13. I changed his poop-filled diaper.
  14. I gave him water in the wrong cup.
  15. I held his hand in the parking lot so he didn't get hit by a car.
  16. I wouldn't let him beat an umbrella against the glass at the zoo.
  17. I wouldn't let him open a 25th package of crackers when he had eaten none of the previous 24.
  18. I put shorts on him and his knees were naked.
  19. I took my prescription bottle away from him so he couldn't down an entire bottle of antidepressants.
  20. I made him put on pants again. I know, I'm a real bitch about the pants thing.


So, needless to say, The Cool Cucumber is not very "Cool" at the moment. Though I guess he sort of resembles a cucumber because he is being a real dick at the moment. Please send prayers. And alcohol.

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, April 9, 2014

Advice Under the Influence


Today I am doing a wrap-up of my web series with ulive, Advice Under the Influence. If you missed any of the episodes or forgot to send them to everyone you have ever met because, you know, you have a life, I wanted to give you a chance to see how much of an idiot I truly am in real life. Enjoy!

How to Dress Your Toddler

http://www.ulive.com/video/how-to-dress-your-toddler

If you have ever tried to dress a toddler, you know that it is an infuriating endeavor. In this video I explore some of the finer points of stuffing a toddler into clothing while trying to maintain sanity.

Getting Your Toddler to Sleep

http://www.ulive.com/video/getting-your-toddler-to-sleep

If your kids are anything like mine, getting them to sleep through the night can be harder than Ron Jeremy’s…skull. I have a few tips to help get your kiddos to sleep all night…in their OWN beds!

Getting Your Toddler to Eat

http://www.ulive.com/video/getting-your-toddler-to-eat

Every played a game of culinary roulette? If you have a toddler/tween/teenager/husband I bet you have. Ante up and see what you can do to make dinnertime less of a gamble.

Why You Should Buy a Minivan

http://www.ulive.com/video/own-up-to-owning-a-minivan

Think minivans are about as sexy as Joan River’s lady bits? Think again. I explain why having a minivan is not only awesome, but also downright sexy. MeYOW!

Potty Training Bootcamp

http://www.ulive.com/video/potty-training-boot-camp

Ready to commence with commode command? I have some tips to make potty training your tot a bit less shitty (see what I did there? BOOM!).

How to Throw the Perfect Kids Party

http://www.ulive.com/video/throw-the-perfect-kids-party

Children’s parties tend to make my eye twitch. Crying, whining, endless needs—and that’s just the parents of the attendants. I break down a few insider tips to make your next party a smashing success.


If you share this post, I will buy you FIVE ponies!

I suck at Twitter. I am OK at Facebook. Pinterest is my bitch. I am also on Bloglovin' and Instagram.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

How I tried to outsmart grief


When my brother died, my life was put on pause. I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t do anything for a while. I didn’t talk. I didn’t see friends. I didn’t go out. I was just a mute version of myself that look confused and scared. I was confused. I was scared.

Like most people that experience a tragic and unexpected loss, I didn’t believe what was happening was real. I kept waiting for my brother to send me text or show up to a family dinner. But he didn’t. And it started to sink in that I would never see him again. And that scared the shit out of me. Because I knew it was going to break me for the rest of my life. And it did. How could it not?

Being the control freak that I am, I tried to outsmart my grief. To always be two steps ahead of it. To always have a say in how, and when, and where I grieved. Or, more realistically, to make sure that I never grieved, because then it would mean that everything was real. So I tried some coping mechanisms that didn’t work so well.

I tried to medicate my grief into submission.
I doubled up on my anti-depressants in an attempt to numb my grief to the point that I couldn’t feel it. All that really did was make me feel like I had constant grief blue balls. Like I was so close to the relief of crying but could never actually shed a tear.

I tried to drink away my pain.
I drank. A lot. Feeling slightly buzzed was better than feeling completely sad so I indulged in too much wine too much of the time. All that did was lead to an even heavier overall cloud of depression—and it’s super fun friend, weight gain.

I tried to go it alone.
Finding myself mostly alone after my brother died, I decided to stay that way. I stopped having people over like we always did. I stopped making plans to go out. I stopped socializing at all. I stopped being me.

I tried to run away from my grief—literally.
I strapped on my running shoes and tied to outrun my feelings. I would run and run and run. I would think about my brother but mostly I would just spend my time thinking about myself. About how I was going to “fix” this situation. But there was no fixing it.

But some things did work.

I sought solace in my daughter’s tiny arms.
On nights when the darkness was too much to bear, I would slip into my daughter’s room under the cover of night and wrap myself around her to protect myself from the pain. Sleeping next to her innocence was often the only way that I could escape the brutality of my brother’s death racing through my mind.

I made new friends.
It is hard to heal the friendships that are broken by a tragedy. Though I am a very forgiving person, I have never really been able to forgive the people who weren’t there for me after my brother’s death. So I made new friends. Friends that didn’t shy away when I talked about how I was feeling. Friends who checked in on me when things were bad. Real friends.

I got help.
I had to kiss a lot of frogs to find the two therapists that would be my princesses, but it was worth it. They have helped me work through my grief and actually experience it. In a way that makes me feel like I am part of the solution, not just the cause of the problem. The two women who have helped counsel me through my grief are the cat’s pajamas.

I let go.
I let myself be OK with being weak at times. I made myself feel that it was good to express my feelings. I gave myself a pass on feeling obligated to keep up friendships that no longer felt positive to me. I stopped feeling like a loser for still feeling under my brothers death and not over it. I let myself be sad. I let myself be angry. I let me be the new me.

Though I may be a broken version of my former self, it is a self that I have built up from the ashes and I am damn proud of it.

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.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

The Internet thinks I have a drinking problem.


I have recently discovered that the internet thinks I have a drinking problem. It all started when I was browsing my suggested books list on Amazon one day. Once you buy and rate enough books through the site, Amazon starts recommending other books you might like. Pretty sweet, right? Yeah, not so much. You see, while I was scrolling down through the list, I started to see a pattern to their recommendations. What was that pattern, you ask? That Amazon thinks I am an alcoholic.

The books Amazon recommended where 12-step AA books with titles like, “Learning to let go, one drop at a time” and “Drinking won’t cure the sads”. These are made-up titles, of course, but you get the drift. SO not cool, Amazon! What are you trying to imply? Just because I pop bottles like models and enjoy me a good box of wine every day now and then, doesn’t mean I have a problem. I can quit any time I want. Like right now. Or maybe tomorrow, today has been pretty tough. Actually, next week is much better for my schedule…

I figured out that because I was reading a bunch of David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs, both of whom share an affection/affliction for alcohol, Amazon assumed that I was drinking like a successful writer. HA! I wish. I can’t even drink like a moderately successful copywriter, let alone keep up with the likes of those amazing two fuckers. Anyway. I thought that this was maybe just a silly mistake until last night, when my phone told me I was a shitty drunk…

While I was upstairs cooking dinner with girlfriends, I went to text my husband and his buddy, who were downstairs doing whatever men do when they are alone in a room full of power tools, that dinner was ready. As I typed in the “di” in “dinner”, my phone automatically prompted to help me by spelling out “DUI”. Um, what the fuck, Siri? Not only am I an alcoholic, but now I am such an asshole that I would actually get drunk and DRIVE!?! Me thinks not. Ever. Siri, you toothless whore, I know you are after me, what with your blatant autocorrect fails and shitty directions, but this has gone too far. This means war, you electronic slut. Bring it.

Needless to say, after all of these baseless accusations of alcoholism, I need a drink…


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, February 26, 2014

Children's Books That Blow


I love me a good children's book. I could read Giraffe's Can't Dance and The Pout Pout Fish a million times. But not all children's books are created equally. No, some children's book make me want to punch the author in the neck just for writing such an asshole-y book. Such as: 

Goodnight Gorilla.
Dude, if I wanted to make up a story, I wouldn't have bought a book. There are like 25 words total in the whole book. The rest you have to explain. Often times to a child who knows the word, "Why?" Ain’t nobody got time for that. Even worse than Goodnight Gorilla? This one: Tuesday by David Wiesner. Seriously, I need words after a long day of work and momming. Help a mutha out, will ya!?!

I'll love you forever.
"I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be."

Adorable, right? Not so much. Why?

"Because that little boy grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was a grown-up man. He left home and got a house across town. But sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her car and drove across town. If all the lights in her son's house were out, she opened his bedroom window, crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed. If that great big man was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth."

Yes, the overall "chorus" of this book is cute, but the lady fucking breaks into her grown son's house, sneaks into his bedroom, takes him out of his bed and rocks his ass to sleep. Hell-to-the-no you crazy old bat. I am calling the cops. Then I am calling ADT to install a new security system and then I am welding bars on my bedroom window. Stay the flock out, you old coot, I mean mom. Shivers.

Guess how much I love you.
"I love you right up to the MOON," Little Nutbrown Hare said, and closed his eyes.

"Oh, that's far," said Big Nutbrown Hare. "That is very, very far."

Big Nutbrown Hare settled Little Nutbrown Hare into his bed of leaves. He leaned over and kissed him good night.

Then he lay down close by and whispered with a smile, "I love you right up to the moon - AND BACK."

Man, that dad is a one-upping mother fucker. Every time his kid tries to tell him how much he loves him, the dad has to say it the exact same way but just a little better. He even waits until his son is asleep so he can one-up him and Little Butbrown Hare can’t fight back. Asshole.

 Fox in Sox.
“When beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles
and the bottle's on a poodle and the poodle's eating noodles...
...they call this a muddle puddle tweetle poodle beetle noodle
bottle paddle battle.”

Dude, seriously? Fuck you. I can't even get this nonsense to make sense in my head, let alone have it make sense when it comes out of my mouth.

Anything by Walt Disney.
Dude, stop putting it into my kids that their parents might die and that we will leave them alone with the worst relative we can possible find. Seriously. Just stop.

These are just a few of the children's books that make my eye twitch. What are some of yours?

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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