This is going to be the last Thursday Guest Post of May…well because it’s the last Thursday of May. And we’re ending this with The 818. I got to know ‘the818′ last year and she’s one of the funniest people I know. Seriously…she writes blog posts that make me laugh out loud and hard and have been known to wake Sophia (and could always get a quick hard kick out of her when she was still in ma’ bellayyyy). Oh and she’s got the beautiful Delilah…..you just need to check her site out so you can see for yourself! She’s a pretty baby y’all (sorta like her beautiful Momma!!). So, kick back, relax, and read about the life of a parent you don’t day dream about when looking at your positive pregnancy test.
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{First of all, I should say that I am pretty much the worst guest blogger ever. I forget that the rest of the world is not as fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants as I am, and that not everyone conceives and writes their blog posts moments before hitting the publish button. But, uh…I mostly do. So I have to thank Alena for being patient with me, as I’m sure (I hope) she is in bed by the time I am sending this to her, but I’ll be honest…it could be worse, one bloggy friend had to give me the keys to her kingdom so I could log in and post my own thing when I missed her deadline. It’s kind of an occupational hazard of work-at-home-momdom, I suppose. So…now that I’ve gotten that off my chest…}
My hair is a f*cking disaster. I mean, aside from the fact that it falls out in clumps (mirena? postpartum hairloss? it’s anybody’s guess!) the other day I had to get my husband to help me comb out a rat’s nest, the likes of which I haven’t seen since I was eight years old and on a hair-brushing strike. This is because my personal prep now consists of a shower (if I’m lucky…I had to watch the LOST finale fresh from a Power Pilates class without a shower…don’t even get me started, and also, try not to judge me…) followed by a quick comb out, and finishing it off by flipping my head upside down and wrapping my hair in a bun. The last time I pulled my blow dryer out of retirement, my Dad asked me when I cut bangs. You guys? I’ve had bangs since 2004. That’s how rarely I do my hair. Even the people closest to me forget what I looked like a mere 8 months ago.
When having kids was something I would do “one day” I had all sorts of fantasies about being a cute-new-Mom-about-town. None of them involved writing my showers in on the family calendar. But for all of the moments that I imagined for my hypothetical kid-having self that I do get see come to fruition {for some reason, being told my baby is cute in the grocery store was something that my fourteen year old self thought was going to be awesome} there are quite a few…uh...unexpected moments, like the aforementioned shower scheduling, that I failed to see coming.
The other day for example, I was mixing Dee’s cereal when I noticed a bottle with just a tiny bit of breast milk left. “Oh good!” thought I, “just enough milk for cereal!” I mixed it up, she scarfed it down and it wasn’t until about an hour and a half later when I was pulling her out of the car that I noticed something was amiss. Really amiss. My gorgeous baby girl was covered in vomit. Not spit up. We’re talking like full-on adult puke. Because she had full-on adult food poisoning. From the sour milk I mixed with her cereal. It was obvious because of the horrifying sour milk stench that was permeating the backseat…of my mother-in-law’s car…which she had generously let me borrow. (Her bad, obviously.)
I rushed inside with my barf covered baby and stripped her down. That’s when I realized that in my rushed attempt earlier that morning to lighten the load in my diaper bag, I had inadvertently managed to remove ALL of the spare outfits I normally carry. I’m attempting to cover my now practically naked child with a blanket when a former colleague approaches to say hello. (Actually, what he said was “Wow, has it been so long since I’ve seen you that you got knocked up?” but that’s another story…) That’s when Delilah starts puking again. But again…not spitting up…actually wretching…which has never happened to her in her entire life…so she’s obviously completely freaked out by it, and is trying to gulp it back down as I try to tilt her forward intentionally guiding her vomit down the front of my shirt [because I figure that it's better on my shirt than back in her stomach, right?] while my (super perceptive) former colleague takes a couple of steps backwards and says “uh…I think she’s sick” and then really awkwardly excuses himself as quickly as possible. Oh, parenthood. You just keep those curve balls coming.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
I think one of the reasons I like Morgan so much is that I am completely fly by the seat of my pants too. I have never, ever written a blog post several days early to post it later. I literally sit down, think of something to write about- hammer it out, try to check for typos and hit publish.
That aside, seeing Dee puke like that must have been so scary. M had never thrown up like that and I’m certain I would lose my cool… it sounds like you kept your calm so well… kudos!
xoxo
Joanna
I’d say I’m pretty half & half. When I have a ton of pictures from the weekend or something I schedule it out (to be a little AW). But most of the time I think of something, type it up & hope for the best. (I do think I should carry a notebook though, I think of stuff all the time while I’m driving that I don’t remember when I get home).
Poor little D! I hope she’s feeling better now!! As if you needed a husband that’s down & a sick baby!!
Thanks for having me post!!! She is feeling better, poor thing, I’m still recovering from my biggest mommy fail in history, though.
Poor little D! and poor mama too!!! I am glad she is feeling better.
I love you Morgan! Not because you handle vomit with flair and grace, but because you’re not afraid to share the fact that we may not all be the cute mom about town we all thought we’d be. I know I’m nothing like the mom I thought I’d be.
Great post!
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