Birthdays and Rings

Tomorrow marks my 26th birthday. I'm pretty old. No, I don't feel old or am thinking "oh no, poor pitiful me". I've been alive for a long time. 26 years is a long time. I'm vintage. I've seen a lot in my life and at the same time haven't seen anything. I still got awhile to go (hopefully). I have so many more things to see and do. I still need to tackle my list of goals, like own a clothing store, sell a painting for $1000, and buy a house. Have more babies and watch them grow. Be a loving and supportive partner to Cody.

As I get older, I keep looking forward to my 30s. I can't wait! And I have no idea why. Maybe I can't wait for my boobs to start sagging, the cellulite on my legs to become more defined, more wrinkles, my metabolism to say "hahaha", or come to the realization that I will never be famous, rich, or look as beautiful as most movie stars. 

This year was a very special year. Not only am I getting closer to my first Mother's Day, I can now say that Cody and I are engaged! As much of our relationship has seemed like something out of a Lifetime movie, today fit perfectly. We took LittleMan out for a stroll at our favorite lake, found a swing to sit on in the shade, and Cody got down on one knee with the ring, a Carpenter family (my dads family) heirloom. 

I do believe this to be the best birthday I've ever had. I even got to spend a night out with my very best friends.

I only wish my sister hadn't left for Wyoming a few days ago so we could talk and laugh in person about this great day.

The Great Cat•astrophe

If you read my last post, then you know I brought home a kitten. Well I forgot to mention that I'm allergic to cats. I've had cats before (about 10 years ago) and found out that I was mildly allergic to them. As long as I took an antihistamine everyday and washed my hands after petting them, instead of rubbing my eyes or touching my face, I was fine. Maybe a sniffle here and there.

Well. Apparently I went from mildly allergic to highly allergic. Like deathly allergic. Finn, the kitten, sent my sinuses into a wild fire of sneezing, coughing, itchy eyes that I wanted to claw out of my face, and what I would call feelings of lockjaw. 

At one point, I was changing Ansel's diaper using the changing table and I sneezed. I guess it caught Finn's curiousity and he began digging his claws into my pants and climbing up my leg above my knee, almost to my hip. Now imagine me trying to maintain a smile towards my child who thinks it's hilarious to grab and try to chew on the cloth I use to cover him so I don't get peed on, snot pooling below my nose, and dancing like I have ants in my pants trying to get this demon kitty off of me. 

 

I was miserably sick. We decided that we couldn't keep Finn. I already felt like shit physically and began to feel it emotionally. It was because of me we had to get rid of Finn and it was because of me that we had him in the first place. There was a knife stuck in my chest and it kept going deeper and deeper. When we were leaving him with his new home, Cody began to cry. He cried the whole way home. Knife went deeper. I kept apologizing and he kept saying "it's fine". 

That night, my mom picked up LittleMan for a Grandma's House sleep over so Cody and I could relax together. We were both getting on each others last nerve which usually means we need to escape from responsibility for a night. So we bought some beer for him and cider for me and watched Catching Fire (go ahead and laugh). Well by the time I went to lay down, I felt feverish and on the verge of hospitalization. Drinking a couple ciders probably wasn't the best idea. But Cody came to my rescue after making a comment that we better not have gotten rid of Finn for no reason. Knife went deeper. He researched all of my symptoms and confirmed that I was having a mad allergic reaction to Finn which had kicked my fibromyalgia into overdrive. He researched what medicine I could safely take while breastfeeding. Within 10 minutes of taking some medicine, I went from hysterical to calm and laying my feverish head on Cody's cool chest. I was out like a light for 9 hours straight. It was glorious! 

After washing and vacuuming everything, I'm beginning to feel better, slowly but surely. Now we know to NEVER get a cat again, stick with dogs or fish. I just hope that one day Ansel doesn't suddenly ask "did we ever have a cat?".

Kids Birthday Parties Are Dangerous

I feel as though birthday party invitations for kids should come with a warning label. Somewhere, even in small print, but somewhere on the back of the card or at the bottom of the FaceBook invite there should be a caution statement. 

LittleMan and I survived attending our first birthday party. Since the 2 year olds party was going be held outside at a park playground, I took every precaution I could think of: lightweight clothing for the heat, homemade sunblock via my sister, a hat for Ansel, and all the necessities of the daily diaper bag. I thought we were prepared. I was wrong, very wrong.

The party mom was amazing through the whole event. I don't know if I could've done it better. And besides for the birthday boy briefly crying once, everyone had a great time. As for the party's caution, I did get a little carried away when writing it (but only a little).

This is what the party's warning label should've been:

WARNING!: anxiety may occur when other peoples children wander off towards the parking lot or restroom pavilion alone. The birthday child's mom wants everything to go as planned however it won't because children have short attention spans and won't want to complete any of the planned activities so please help the mom out so she doesn't have a panic attack or decide to go full Rambo on the father who takes an hour to retrieve the pizza or the party participants. Be prepared for strangers to join the playground, it is a public park, and their kids may want to slide first or knock over the pine cone bird feeders you made. Some strangers may approach in close proximity with a cardboard box labeled Free Kittens in which case you will call your significant other and ask for permission to bring home one of said kittens since the stranger who barely speaks a word said he was on his way to the animal shelter and thought he'd try us out first. Once you retrieve a kitten from sketchy stranger, know that the kitten is probably too young to have left it's mother and will have fleas that will take an hour to bathe and comb out of its fur in which case it will scratch the f*** out of you. You're welcome.

My sister holding LittleMan 

And Finn (our new kitten) and LittleMan 

Pinterest Fail- Cadbury Creme Egg Cupcakes

I LOVE Cadbury Creme Eggs at Easter time! I wish they were made year round (I did find some at Halloween last year so there is hope). When Easter is near, I crave Creme Eggs and have to have it like a pregnant woman craves anything or a smoker craves a cigarette. It's a seasonal addiction. (I have gone to the store just to get a Dr Pepper aka DP and a delicious, oh so sugary, Cadbury Creme Egg. I know, it's terribly unhealthy).

So naturally, while skimming through recipes on Pinterest, I came across the Cadbury Creme Egg Cupcake and immediately forged a plan with my sister to go to the grocery store. Gluten free vanilla cake mix, 12 Cadbury Creme eggs, and 1 tub of cream cheese frosting later and I began the baking process. The Creme Eggs are placed in the middle of the cupcake batter and baked at the instructed temperature and time...

Well, first of all, we used silicone cupcake liners that we "peeled" off of the cupcakes with some difficulty. The cupcakes were done, but the Creme Egg had made the bottom pretty moist, gooey, and a little sticky. Second, it's really hard to ice a cupcake while holding a 5 month old. Becca had to finish the icing. 

Then we ate one. OH MY GOD! Too much sugar! It was so sweet that I still feel sick after eating one about 30 minutes ago. It doesn't help that LittleMan's rolling around in my lap getting sleepy for bed. 

Not only are the cupcakes too sweet, but they end up costing about $2 each with gluten free cake mix. I'm sure regular cake mix would make it cheaper, but my sister and I try not to cheat our gluten free diets.

Hopefully Cody will like them enough to eat them.

I Quit

I quit my job. I can't believe I quit my job. 

My sister, aka Auntie ReRe (haha), and her husband have decided to spend the second half of their first married year working at a lodge resort in Wyoming... WYOMING! We live in Florida! Do you know how far away that is? (I honestly don't know exactly where it is on a map). 

My sister and I have acted as twins since we were little even though I'm almost three years older than her. We currently live next door to each other, sharing a wall. She's my rock. We share almost everything with each other; food, recipes, clothes, ideas, crafts, cars, my son... She is LittleMan's nanny. My stepmom and mom watch him when they can, but my sister is his nanny. Cody's mom would love to watch him too, however they currently live in another city. 

Cody and I decided that we didn't want to put Ansel in daycare just yet. I know there are great facilities and at-home daycares, but we (I) would feel a lot better if he wasn't being watched by people we don't know and around other kids who have germs, and boogers, and opinions on what he dresses like or how long his hair is (my grandmother said it's bad luck to cut a child's hair before they're one. I'm not arguing with her). The other babies might start calling him "Mama's Boy". 

So I quit. I quit my job, not my career. I will always be a hairstylist, cutting Cody's hair, a friends hair, judging strangers hair, dissecting celebrity hairstyles and judging them; ya know, normal hair dresser stuff. 

Financially, I don't know how we are going to make it. Stay at home mom life doesn't exactly pay the bills. So, of course my crafty brain has started turning its wheels again. What can I make decently fast when Ansel goes to bed every night? That is, till he starts waking up and makes me lay down with him. I think I've got it: kids room decor. I've half-assedly (I know I made it up) made some stuff for LittleMan's nursery and our house, why not hone in on my craft and sell that shit on Etsy? Everyone else is doing it, let me jump on that band wagon. And have you seen some of the crap people buy off of Etsy? Seriously? Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Etsy! There are some extremely talented people on there. Let me be one of those people. Over the next few weeks, I will be creating and crafting till I find what I'm great at and sell it, like Ansel's flag banner. 

Involuntary Co-Sleep Ninja

From day 1 at home from the hospital, LittleMan has slept on me, next to me, in our bed. Of course, I've read and heard about all of the dangers of co sleeping. Even Ansel's pediatrician strongly advised against it. However, he sleeps when he's next to me. I know that it's just an excuse; he would be "safer" sleeping in his own bed, waking up every 10-30 minutes, cold because babies shouldn't sleep with blankets or pillows, and alone, completely alone. 

He starts out in his bassinet, which is now getting to be a little cramped since he's getting older and bigger. The only reason why we haven't transitioned him into his own room is because it's on the opposite end of the house and on the first floor where our room is the second floor. I don't feel comfortable having him that far away just yet. We will be finding better housing once our lease ends here. But, between 7 and 8pm, he nurses to sleep or nurses and we rock him to sleep, and put him in the bassinet upstairs. Somewhere between 9 and 11pm he begins to wake. Now we've tried rocking him back to sleep, changing his diaper, everything but nurse, to get him comfortable and back to sleep in the bassinet. However, as soon as we lay him down, he's wide awake, ready for action, talking up a storm. For about 30 minutes we play the fall back asleep then wide awake game. 

That's when he gets in our bed. Throughout the night we wrestle and dance in periodic spurts as to keep him asleep, head away from pillows and blankets, not laying inbetween Cody and I as to make sure Cody doesn't crush him (Cody sleeps like a toddler, all over the place), and usually feet in my gut. He likes to kick me in the stomach when he starts waking up. 

While I was pregnant, we came across the following diagram. I never thought it could be so true.

"The Dog House" is a reoccurring position. I feel so bad for Cody, sometimes.

As for now, we will continue to co sleep. I'm not going to lie, I do enjoy it, probably as much as I love breastfeeding; but I know we will try to change things in the near future. 

BFing your LOL

Breastfeeding. Something I never wanted to do. I always wanted to have children, but the thought of something, someone latched onto my body, feasting... All I could think of was baby parasite, with teeth like a shark, draining my body of all life like a vampire . However, during my last trimester, I couldn't be more excited to breastfeed, provide my child with food made from MY BODY, give him a better chance at a strong immune system (and for free I might add).

So last night/early this morning, while attached to my baby vampire parasite, I saw that my sister had commented on my last blog post, telling me to keep writing (it has been a few months). Naturally, all I could think about was boob milk. 

Breastfeeding, or in the world of mother friendly forums, blogs, and chats, BFing. There's simply BFing, or at first glance could be Barfing; BFing your LO (little one), or Barfing your Lungs Out, or Barfing your Laugh Off, or Barfing your LOL; and EBF (exclusively BF'd or ExpressedMilk Breastfed, I'm not sure), or Exorcism Barfing. Now if that's not confusing enough with all the letter abbreviations, I'm pretty sure I've incorrectly made up what each one means and there's a ton more: LC, DD, LD, etc, etc.

So beginning at 3am, we start the Barfing and continue on a 1.5-2 hour rotation till around 8pm. Parasite.

You know you're tired when you change the words of Michael Jackson from "Beat It" to "Boob It" or make up catch phrases such as "when in doubt, boob it out".

Sorry to be blunt, but: One of my boobs is consistently and significantly larger than the other. My breasts are now what I call "Gorilla Titties", the shape isn't perky and round anymore. My nipples stay puffy. If I sleep on my stomach, I wake up in a puddle of milk. And for some reason, HobbyHubby still wants to see them all the time, probably because I've banned him from touching them (it makes my milk "let down" and I begin dripping like a faucet). 

But all is well and for a good cause, right? And who knew they made teas and cookies and supplements to help promote healthy lactation. I tried to get Cody to taste the tea, which is AWESOME, but he wouldn't, claiming that he didn't want to start lactating. I died laughing. It doesn't quite work that way. 

It's been 4 months and we are still going strong, even with me working part time. I've even cooked while Barfing my LOL. I understand why so many women give up after the first week or two; it hurt! Blistering, sore, poor nipples. But once past the first few weeks it turns into something quite magical. Here's to the next 8 months! Cheers!