The Zoey Chronicles: In the Trenches

In life, we have to celebrate every victory. I wrote this entry after a particularly challenging day last month and wanted to share it with you...

It is 3:24 pm on New Year's Eve and I am just now sitting down to finish my morning cup of coffee. It is cold and bitter, but I don't care. I am still going to drink it and savor every last flavor I can glean from it. Mostly, I am just too lazy and too tired to go up four stairs to the kitchen to microwave it. Today, this week, this month, this year I have been in a battle. As I sit here in my one good chair wearing a t-shirt and grey sweat pants from yesterday, I survey my living room and can't help but grin. Whoever thought to call this space a living room knew exactly what my day has been like. This room has been lived in. Toys, puzzles, suitcases from last week, shoes, golf balls, mail from the last week, a random beer can and more toys litter my floor, tables and every space of the 300sq ft of my living room. I have piles/mountains of laundry that I have been scaling for the past two days. I can honestly say I see the end, but I am too scared to be optimistic about it lest the laundry fairy decides to dump another pile, so I claim my progress as a small victory.

For now, I am going to sit here in my good chair and smile. I have managed to do the impossible. I have put baby Z down for a nap. I had been trying to get her to nap since 1:00 pm. She was tired but kept fighting it. Finally, I had the ingenious idea to lay next to her in bed and side feed her until she became drowsy. Stealthily, I managed to swiftly switch the boob with a pacifier. Sensing the difference, she had clutched my shirt closer and draped a leg over me. I was trapped. I counted the minutes until I could escape her iron clutches. When her breathing got slow and even, I braced myself for the escape. Luckily I was taught the "stop,drop and roll" fire drill in elementary. As a mommy, I am the master of the Ninja roll. When the time came, I did a fast roll and flung myself off the bed to the hard floor. It hurt. I held my breath and tried to stay as still as I could. You could hear a pin drop. She made a slight move but continued to sleep. I slowly rose to my feet and stealthily shuffled out of the door.

 Now I am here, in my good chair, sipping on my liquid black gold. I might be sore, but I managed to escape, so yeah, I will sit here in the battle torn cluttered living room and enjoy my cold coffee. I deserve it, because my achy elbows and knees have earned it. Today was another day of battle in the mommy world. If things go well in 8 and a half hours, I would have seen a new year and hopefully a turn in events. Right now, I am re-charging and reveling in the moment and I would not change a thing.

* As I neared the end of this entry, I heard the monitor crackle and baby Z's faint cries... Time for this mother to jump back in the trenches, exactly where I belong! Till next time!

written on 12/31/2014

The Zoey Chronicles: A day in the life

Stay-at-home moms do a lot. It is an exhausting but extremely rewarding job. Many people glamorize it and some even fantasize about becoming one someday. There are days that the stars align and I become supermom. On those days, I accomplish every task on my list. Then there are those days...the days that nothing seem to work out. The days that I end up with oatmeal stains on my shirt and cereal stuck to my hair. On those days, I can walk around with my clothes inside out all day and not notice until bedtime. Those are the days that I live for. Those are the days that remind me that it is an arduous and wonderful process raising a tiny human being. Those are the days when I get to really know my little Diva. Those are the days that stick out in my mind. To give you a little insight into the life of a stay-at-home mommy, I kept a  detailed account of a normal day. It was my first day back from being away from baby Z for three days. On that particular day, I felt like we were back to square one in figuring each other out after the separation. The following events took place on that day:

9:45 am the Diva/Princess wakes up in a great mood. She has learned to bravely get off the bed by scooting to the edge, turning sideways and lowering herself to the ground. This requires holding up her entire body weight by gripping the sheets or bedding. Should her fingers fail or her strength wane, she lands on her butt, but this is a risk she is willing to take every damn time. This morning, she followed in the shoes of Kerri Scruggs and executed a perfect landing. She is ready for a diaper change. I meet her at the door and walk the few steps to her room. She goes to the changing table and attempts to help me by trying to climb up, I catch her just in time. I change her diaper and she leads me to the guest room to free her fur brother and sister from their kennel Prison.

10:00 am I give her apple juice (juice box) and a slice of bread with peanut butter and strawberry jelly. I turn my back to put a load of laundry in the washer. She is exceptionally quiet so I go check on her. She is on the floor completely covered in Apple juice ala the girl in flash dance. She doesn't seem to care. She has found a sock and is happily attempting to wipe up the juice. Lesson learned, babies who bathe in apple juice become sticky and smell like sugary apples. A complete wipe down and change of clothes are in order.

11:30 am We bundle up to take the fur babies to potty and go to the mailbox. I fail to notice that I had not put her shoes back on after the wipe down. Baby Z takes off running on the wet and muddy grass trying to crunch leaves. Despite repeated pleas she refuses to come back inside. She takes off running towards the woods, I am forced to book it after her in my house shoes clutching a dog leash. The walk to the mailbox is abandoned. A change of socks is in order...now what did I do with her shoes?

12:00 pm I walk up the 4 stairs to take a laundry basket of clean clothes to baby Z's room while she was downstairs distracted by a particularly arresting episode of Caillou. I had a window of less than 2 minutes to grab the clothes from the hamper and hurriedly hang them in her closet (I planned on arranging them at a later time). I hear "uh-oh!" I run into the kitchen to find baby Z making it rain with the dog food. I can't complain; I am the one who left the baby gate open. I distract her by giving her a lid top. I grab the broom and dust pan and clean up the dog food that had been showered on the kitchen floor.                                                                              

12:30 pm it's time to feed baby Z. I warm up and dice meatballs for her. She is hungry and ready to eat. I put a row of meatballs, Mac n cheese, and vegetables on her high chair tray. She is content to eat and watch Sprout for about an hour. I manage to hang and fold an insane amount of laundry. When she is finally finished, she is covered in food and marinara sauce...everything is covered in bits of food and marinara. My daughter decided to wear her food. She innocently looks at me, raises her arms towards me and utters "mama!" My heart melts. My world is complete. Another wipe down and a change of clothes is in order.

1:45 pm I go to the bathroom. She is being entertained by the magazine bucket in the corner. Just as I get comfy, she takes her shoes and throws them in the tub. She then reaches over and attempts to turn on the water. Those shoes...those stupid pesky shoes...those damn pesky shoes. I had not put them on her after the last wipe down. Any attempts at using the bathroom have been successfully thwarted.

2:00-4:00 pm I put up toys in her toy chest and she pulls them out. Notice I have not mentioned nap time...that is because she has decided to give nap time the middle finger...unless she is gnawing on the boob. She gets in about 15 minutes but after about 3 hours of trying to get her to nap, I throw in the towel. I'm done.

45 minutes later, I hear tires coming up the driveway. It's "dada!", he is home. Z-baby squeals and runs to the door. He surveys the mountain of laundry and the clutter of toys in the living room. Instead of saying what is obvious, what is really on his mind, My husband picks up Z baby, leans over and gives me a kiss. With an amused smile he says, "looks like you guys did a lot of laundry today, good job!" Instantly my spirits are lifted...today was a good day.

If you ever want to have a stay-at-home-mom experience, come and spend a day with baby Z and I. I promise, it will be a hectic, fun filled adventure! 

Originally written on 12/30/14

Similac highlights "mommy wars" in a heartwarming video

The world is full of people with varying ideas and perspectives. One group may love something, while another may hate it. Last week Similac, a formula manufacturing company posted an ad, about the well known "mommy wars," that often start feuds due to differing styles of parenting. The video was obviously a parody, meant to highlight the outrageous differences and sects that parents encounter. Featured were; the formula feeders; the breast is best squad; the cloth diaper patrol; the crunchy yoga parents; the working moms; same sex parents; the baby wearing daddies and mamas and many more. A gamut of parenting styles were represented. While the groups were feuding, a stroller rolls down hill and everyone is forced to unite for the sake of saving a little one in peril (tears were shed).  

When the video aired, the internet lost its damn mind! Some people raved and gushed about the video, while others expressed extreme dislike for the message and the company that produced the video. Some bloggers felt that Similac was using parent's emotions to push their agenda by "normalizing" formula feeding. Some feminists shunned the focus on the subject of breasts by the males in the video. A few mommies did not like the fact that the breastfeeding mommies had to wear huge hideous covers. Some males were offended that the Ad while featuring males, welcomes parents into the "sisterhood".  The video brought up many important issues up for discussion. Many people have gone to Similac's facebook page to weigh in. 

I found the video funny and sweet. The message was positive and uplifting. We may do things differently, but in the end, we are in this together. We should all work together for the purpose of caring for our little ones. I might be a bit sentimental, so I will let you judge for yourself. Perhaps, you may find your parenting style depicted in one groups in the video. 

If you are curious as to what the uproar is all about, click below to see the advertisement.

I do not own any rights to the pictures or video displayed on this page.    

The Adventures of motherhood

I closed my eyes and when I opened them, my helpless infant who did nothing but eat, sleep and cry had become a strong willed and determined little girl, who chased and tormented our two little yorkies with her walker. It’s been nine short months since the addition of baby Z (aka baby Diva) to our family and we could not be any happier. She has added an element of fun and adventure to our family that we did not know was missing but have become accustomed to.

In the weeks that I spent at the hospital, I had limited contact with her. I worried that she would not remember me or that she would not know that I was her mommy. In the hospital, my most vivid memories of her were as a tiny helpless baby, just starting to discover the world around her.

Baby Z and I before our separation
photo courtesy of Mister Lule Photography

Upon my discharge from the hospital, I came home to an active and spunky little girl who instantly recognized me as her mommy.

Just when I thought that I had this mommy thing down to a science, little Z manages to switch everything up. Her personality is a perfect blend of her mommy and daddy. She has been guilty of giving people the side-eye (which everyone accuses me of) since the day she was born. Just like her father, nothing can deter her when she has her mind set on doing something. This little girl is a smart, stubborn, free-spirited firecracker. I never knew anyone could bring me such joy but she shows me a different side of love with each passing day. I enjoy seeing her personality develop. I love to hear her laugh. Her smile melts my heart and can brighten even the darkest of days.

                                                    

 Reunited and it feels so good!

I have accepted the fact that I am not the perfect mother. I try to be the best mother that I can be. I am her mother, and I am exactly who God chose to love, comfort, protect and teach her. Motherhood keeps me looking around the bend for more adventures to come!

   

True Story, I was pregnancy shamed

This past weekend I was pregnancy shamed. Allow me to explain. You may have heard of slut shaming or fat shaming, but rarely do you ever hear of people saying they were pregnancy shamed. Hubby and I went to Houston this past weekend for a baby shower. It was indeed a most enjoyable event! The last guest departed the baby shower at 1:00 am! Yes, I am a party animal.

My day started out normally, as any other day. I got up, ate an emergency breakfast (emergency because ever since I got pregnant, I have to have something in my stomach or else this baby becomes a monster). After eating breakfast and talking to some of my family members, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready to hit the road back to Arkansas. It was extremely hot, so I picked a maternity dress that was a light and stretchy material. My stomach has gotten bigger so the material accentuated and clung to my stomach. This is the one feature that I liked about the dress because it allowed me to show the evidence of my soon to be baby Diva. I met my little sister and she complimented me on the dress; it made me smile. As I made my way down the stairs, I became aware of the distressed looks I was getting from some of my relatives. The incessant chatter ceased and the room fell quiet. I felt weird but thought I was being paranoid. I made a mental note of how I had checked and double checked my appearance before going down the stairs. So why the weird vibe? At last, one brave soul ventured out to tell me they thought it was best to go back upstairs and change. I asked if she could see my underwear or if the dress was too short. She said no, but that the dress was not appropriate for me to wear. One of her cohorts further explained that the dress would be good for someone who did not have curves, someone tall and slender. She also stated that the dress made me look more compact. I was not satisfied with this explanation. My older sister piped up and asked me to turn sideways because she wanted to see baby Diva in her full glory. She did not seem to have a problem with my outfit.

Hubby loaded the truck and we got ready to speed off to the redneck highway (remote windy two lane roads) to our beloved El Dorado.  As we approached the truck my relatives kept pressuring me to go change prior to my departure. I finally asked why they found this dress so offensive. Finally, one of my shamers stated, “well, the dress would not look so bad if your stomach was not so big...you know if your stomach was smaller.” After picking my jaw off the floor, I mounted the waiting truck and sped off.

Dear reader: I. AM. PREGNANT! Yes, my stomach is big…like a mini beach ball or a round, smooth extra-large bowling ball. It is big and round, like a perfectly shaped dome. It is also beautiful and exquisite; it is carrying life! I could not help but wonder why two women who have had children (emphasis on CHILDREN) felt it was ok to shame another woman because of her glorious pregnant belly. I wasn’t being told to change because my outfit was too provocative, but because of my protruding belly. My big pregnant belly was making them uncomfortable. As our truck carried us up home, I wondered, how can a pregnant woman make her stomach less conspicuous? Should I wear Moo-Moo’s for the rest of the pregnancy? I wistfully turned to my hubby and asked him if he thought I should cease wearing the offending number. He lovingly looked at me and smiled. Then he reassuringly answered, “no babe, your outfit is great, you look beautiful.” With a huge grin on my face, I turned and looked out the window to watch the trees pass in a blur and make our way a little closer to Arkansas. 

Slut shaming, fat shaming and now pregnancy shaming, what has the world come to?

Have you ever been shamed?   

Back and Bigger than ever!

Hey Lovies! I have been gone for a while, but I am so glad to be back. A lot has taken place since my last post. Well, I won’t beat around the bush, the hubby and I have some news…we will be welcoming a new addition to our family in October! We are all excited, including our two furbabies (they know they are about to get a new baby sister).

Folks, I can’t lie, it’s been quite an adventure since finding out that we are expecting. At first I felt like...

 and then I felt like… 

Morning sickness and all day sickness had me down y’all! All I could do was...

After about 19 weeks, I started feel a whole lot better!Today, I feel like a million bucks. 

Hubby and I are busy getting ready for the little one and we are tickled pink! We are looking forward to playing with and holding our little pumpkin.

To all the mommies and mommies to be, I give you mad props! I underestimated how difficult the journey to motherhood would be. To all the daddies and daddies to be, way to support your significant other as she experiences the sometimes crazy roller coaster of motherhood!

     

XOXO #NOTSOSMALLtowndiva