Children's Music

What the balls is up with children's music? The same songs have been around forever and the same songs are still obnoxious. Why hasn't anyone come up with a solution that offers kids enjoyment without making parent's ears bleed?

Henry loves this music. Shocker.

Wheels on the Bus? Bring it on!

Itsy Bitsy Spider? Louder the Better!

He can't get enough. Music is the one thing that actually does seem to relax him, and I'm sure his vice could be much worse, so I'm usually happy (or as happy as I can be) to fire up Pandora and play the "Toddler" station for him.

Well good story. The other day, I had a rare morning off of mommy duty. I took the Metro into the city for a doctor appointment. I was so excited for the train ride because I knew it meant that I could put in my headphones, listen to MY music, and zone out for the 45 minute ride. Well, I got on the train and that aforementioned Pandora station was the last station loaded on my phone, so when I opened the Pandora app, the itsy bitsy spider sung by the wigglesnugglefluffypalfriendswhateverthefuck filled my baby-less ears with pure high pitched delight.

The sad part? I didn't freaking notice until the song was almost over! I sat in the train, got to the first stop, and zoned out listening to "out came the sunshine and dried up all the rain!"

I swear I slapped my forehead with the palm of my hand when I realized what had happened.

Effin children's music. Thank goodness Henry and I are taking a music class starting in two weeks.

Barf.

Twas The Season...

Ok, I know I've been completely MIA since before the holidays, but for good reason. The holidays are rough.  It's only now, 3 days into February, that I feel fully recovered from the Hellidays. I'm going to do a little holiday recap even though nobody probably wants to hear about it. Too bad.

There are so many ridiculous things about being a parent during holiday season.

Last year, we had a tiny snugly baby. We didn't decorate the house...we were too tired. We put up a tree, but only had a few ornaments on it. We were too delirious to do much else. We fumbled through Christmas day while I shoved my boob in Henry's mouth every hour and the holidays were over. 

Oh wait, we did manage to go to the mall and have our picture taken with Santa. Cute, right? 

   

I now know the holidays will never be the same. 

For some reason, once you have a kid, you get this overwhelming feeling that you have to force them to love santa, decorate your tree like it's the midway at a damn carnival, and buy them all sorts of crazy shit they will forget about a month later. Well here are some pictures that represent our holidays:

Henry hated Santa. Probably not surprising to most, but surprising to us as he has never showed the least bit of fear when being held by strangers. He was most likely scared of his two parents who were jumping up and down smiling and squealing while trying to get a good picture. 

Take a look at our tree. Pathetic. The bottom third is empty for obvious reasons. We decorated it normally...until our one year old decided to lick the glitter ornaments and cough like at cat hacking up a hairball. Instead of proceeding to watch him taste test each orb, we just completely emptied the bottom third.

We all know how I feel about toys. Needless to say we didn't get Henry much since we knew he'd be overindulged by his grandparents. Of the things he did get, though, just about all of been forgotten aside from his radio flyer car. He freaking loves that thing and plays with it for hours a day. Totally worth the money his grandma spent on it...oh wait...aside from the fact that he climbs all over it and gets stuck....and then cries until I rescue him. Fun times. 

 

And then there are those obvious adorable things about having a one year old during the holidays.

But.

That's not what this blog is about now is it? ;)

Stumped.

Alright, here's a real doozy for you guys. What do you do when your wiggly 1 year old gets a little cut that won't stop bleeding?

Henry cut himself somehow (I'm thinking paper cut) this morning. I noticed a few drops of blood on the floor and started playing the game "what orifice is bleeding now?" I looked in his mouth, nose, and then noticed he had some blood on his hands. His finger was bleeding.

It didn't look bad, so I just used a little wet washcloth and wiped it off. I thought that was that, but as usual, it wasn't. This little tiny cut on Henry's finger didn't stop bleeding, and Henry didn't stop moving. He was walking around as usual touching everything...which in turn got little drops of blood all over the place. Ugh.

I put a little Elmo band-aid on the cut, hoping to catch the blood and avoid getting in all over the walls. Henry thought this was hilarious. He laughed at his little band-aid and sucked on it until he got it off...and then proceeded to wipe blood all over my pants and a stuffed animal he had just received.

Then, I tried a glove. I don't know if this makes me weird or not, but I figured if I put a winter glove on his hand, it would at least contain the blood until it stopped bleeding. Well obviously that was just wishful thinking, because he pulled it right off.

Sooo I spend the next 45 minutes chasing him around with a wet washcloth wiping his finger every 10 seconds. Awesome.

So that got me to thinking...what do mommies do when there's blood and it doesn't affect your kid enough to get them to sit still? Do you let your kid bleed all over everything? Or somehow contain them until it stops bleeding? I need a better game plan for next time!

Long Week

Henry has been wicked sick this past week hence me being MIA. He has been coughing, sniffling, and forcing me to change my shirt every 15 minutes when it gets soaked with snot and tears. Poor kid.

We took him to the doctor who informed us he is actually cutting his 18 month molars, too.

Woof.

So he finally seems to be feeling a little bit better tonight, so once he went down to sleep (and we were sure he wasn't going wake up screaming 5 minutes later), I poured myself a nice big glass of red wine.

Thank God the toy designers at B. Toys made their play cube multi-functional.

Mama earned this drink.

Happy Survival Day!

Happy Day to my Husband and I for surviving one year of Hurricane Henry.

Oh, and Happy Birthday to the wildest kid I know!

Eating.

Let's get one thing straight. I'm not going to win the "Mom of the Year" award this year. Or next. Or probably ever. So I'm just going to put this out there, and hope that I don't regret typing it.

I think watching my kid eat is f@*#ing disgusting.

I remember how excited I was when at Henry's 4 month appointment the doctor told us that we could go ahead and try rice cereal and purees. I'm not sure what I expected feeding to be like, but I'm pretty sure I didn't think it would totally freak me out.

Food on spoon > baby opens mouth > food into mouth > swallow > repeat

Not
So
Much


Read the rest HERE!!

Toys.

Let's talk toys, shall we?

Toys suck, the end. Thanks for stopping by.




Ok, ok, I'll elaborate.

I think toys are a sadistic gimmic that companies use to play into a moms fragile emotional state.

You go to Buy Buy Baby, you browse Amazon, or you have a playdate, and you are constantly bombarded with new and awesome toys that your kid has to have in order to reach his milestones, learn his ABCs by 10 months, and become a professional athlete. Barf.

I hate toys, but I feel like a bad mommy that my kid doesn't have an entire basement full of plastic garbage that he can climb all over and act like a maniac. And I KNOW that I don't even have it bad, yet. Henry can't even ask for the toys he wants.

With Henry's first birthday a week away and Christmas shortly after that, I've been feeling especially weak and fragile when I see toys that promise to entertain my kid for 7 hours a day...especially since I start daydreaming about being able to paint my nails and take a freaking shower while a toy entertains my kid.

Here's why I'm staying strong and not giving in to holiday toy maddness:

1. Henry has never had a toy or played with a toy at a friends house that he has payed attention to for more than 11.4 seconds. Why am I going to spend $104.89 on a light up 3-toed sloth that blows balls out of its ears. I'm not. And that's creepy.
2. Henry's current favorite toys are his dresser drawers, the dishwasher, paper, and my iPhone. Let's see... That's 1 point for ikea, 1 point for GE, 1 point for paper, 1 point for Apple, and 0 points for any toy company.
3. I'm cheap. I have yet to spend more than $15 on any toy Henry has and I think $50 dollars in his college fund will make him smarter than a $50 dollar musical bear that can say my kids name and favorite food. (yeah, I'm talking about you scout)
4. I'm cheap and smart. Tom and I started shopping for Henry's birthday and Christmas at garage sales this past summer. We spent about $30 total for both events and got him loads of books and high quality wooden toys that won't light up rainbow vomit and make my ears bleed. Oh, and we won't have to fill 5 garbage bags with packaging, and Tom won't have to spend the next 6 weeks putting things together. Bonus.
5. I'm highly susceptible to catchy tunes so if we bought many singing toys, I would end up humming the tunes all day and night and then I'd have no friends.

Basically, I'm not against my kid having toys, but I do think it's easy to go overboard (I've seen it first hand), and I think toy companies know that moms want the best for their kids and therefore target us with the promise of a happier, smarter kid if only we buy their toys.

I think this holiday season the score will be Toys-0, Stephanie-1.

The Age When It's Getting Fun!

I think I've adjusted very well to husbanding and fatherhood from my former life well over two years ago!!! I've loved Henry since the day he was born and didn't have any issues with identities and roles as other dads I may have heard of. I don't ignore Stef and Henry, I don't look for excuses to get away other than my weekly soccer game, and I hurry home every day after work so I have as much time to play with the fam before Henry's bed time. What is so cool now is that being around the corner from Henry's first birthday, as a dad, the little dude becomes more and more fun by the day. ( Except restaurants, they are miserable and no longer fun for anyone unless we are going with Grandma and Grandpa and they can deal with Hurricane Restaurant Henry, very closely related to Demon Baby )
Now that Henry is mobile, talkative, knows how to play hide and seek, and loves to chase, play time is no longer trying to get him to pay attention to a creepy toy. We wrestled for the first time the other day and it was a blast!
A buddy of mine from school who began his journey with fatherhood a year or so before me keyed me in on the fact that a baby spends the first several months of his life bonding with mommy, but when they become playful there is a chance for dad to join in the fun!
So, I relish in it and love it. He is a blast and I can't wait for Captain Henry's Pirate Birthday Party!

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Hehehe.

Seriously?

Henry is afraid of the clothing dryer.

Like seriously dude?

Of all the things this kid could be afraid of...he decides to be scared of the dryer. The kid doesn't flinch at loud noises. He has no fear of new people. In fact, he happily lunges into the arms of anyone who holds their arms out for him. Of couse, as a mother, this baffles me after hearing horror stories of seperation anxiety, but not Mr. Henry. His kryponite is the dryer.

Our dryer is in our hallway. It's behind a door that stays closed 95% of the time, BUT if you open that door, he will crawl away screaming. If the door is open and he on one side of the door frame and we are on the other, he will sit at the other edge and wail. See...

If you can't tell...That's Henry....crying...staring at the dryer....It's bizarre.

If he was an adopted child, I would be convinced that he had once been put into a dryer. Not the case, though. Sigh..

What is so scary about a dryer? Am I just not seeing it? What are your kids afraid of??

Poop or Chocolate?

I had one of those moments the other day that felt like a slap in the face reminding me, "hey! you're a mom now!"

In most aspect of my life, I still feel relatively normal. I do the same things I've always done...I just have a little sidekick by my side while doing them. There are, however, moments that come up that really crack me up when I think of how becoming a mommy has actually changed me.

Case and point: I was driving in car with Henry in the backseat. I had recently bought 4 bags of Halloween candy because they were on sale and I had to buy 4 to get the best deal. Because I can't be trusted alone with candy, I left the bags in the trunk and planned on bringing them in closer to Halloween. Also because I can't be trusted with candy, I had opened one of the bags and had been enjoying a piece or two every time I opened the trunk to put the stroller in.

Anyways, I was driving down the road enjoying my Hershey's with Almonds fun-sized candy bar. I finished the chocolatey treat and continued on my drive. A few moments passed until I felt something on my hand. I looked down and there was a little ball of brown on my index finger. It was no bigger than the size of a pencil tip.

Now here's the moment that made me laugh at myself -- My immediate reaction to this ambiguous brown ball -- I sniffed it.

Only a mom! Only a mom would sniff the little brown ball she found on her finger. Was it poop that mysteriously migrated it's way onto my finger during baby's last diaper change or was it leftover chocolate?!

Phew...

It was chocolate...So I ate it!



Happy Halloween, Moms! Enjoy some yummy treats and don't forget to check your hands when you're finished!

Urgent! Question.

Okay okay. Today, I experienced something I just have to share. It had me so baffled, so surprised, that I really just need some clarification on the topic.

Here's the beef:

With Henry in the backseat, I pulled our SUV into a parking space at the South Run Rec Center in Springfield for our weekly baby sign and sing class.

As I was getting my stuff together and getting Henry out of the car, I saw a mom with three small girls heading towards their van.

The three little girls must have been about 2, 4, and 6. The mom loaded the little girls into the van as I was wrangling Henry into his stroller. I shut our car door and started pushing the stroller towards the entrance of the rec center, when I couldn't help but notice this jaw-dropping incident happening right before my eyes.

Read the rest HERE

Vacation + Baby = Regrets

Before I was a mommy, I looked forward to vacations. Tom and I took many a vacation together. We went to Las Vegas, Chicago, Ocean City, New York, England, etc. Travel was fun and aside from the occasional airport snafu like a delayed flight or one of us having to be pat down, we usually enjoyed our vacations with hardly a second thought.

Enter baby.


Read more here.

Snot Bubbles

I knew this day was bound to come. I'd been bracing myself for it ever since Henry was born. I'd heard stories from other moms about how miserable their babies are when sick, so imagine my horror when I woke up the other morning to snot bubbles.


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Stolen Sleep

Now it's one thing to have to wake up in the middle of the night with your child. Luckily (knock on copious amount of wood), Henry never wakes up in the middle of the night. So, I go to bed at 11 planning on waking up at 7 or whenever the babe rises. Good deal.

It's a whole completely different thing to have to wake up in the middle of the evening, night, morning, naptime with your baby monitor. As a mother, I didn't sign on for taking care of a sweet baby boy and an *sshole baby monitor.

Let me explain. We have the Angelcare monitor that detects motion. We bought it as a recommendation from friends who have a young son. They said it was the best thing they owned. It was especially nice once Henry was born considering he spent the first week of his life in the NICU with breathing problems.

Early on, my relationship with the monitor was chummy. We had a few false alarms where we jumped out of bed like someone had told us Oprah was outside, but all in all I gleefully smiled every time I saw the monitor blink. Our baby boy was breathing and all was right in the world.

Then. One day. One day that monitor lost it's cool. Maybe its monitor girlfriend had broken up with him. Maybe the diaper stench had become too much. That monitor started alarming all day and all night. Naptime would be ruined because it would go off and Henry would wake up after being down for 7 minutes and decide it was time to play. It would go off in the middle of the night when Henry was dead asleep. He'd sleep right through it while we'd (mostly Tom) would be stumbling blindly into Henry's room to reset the damn thing.

I was on the brink. I'd been woken up one too many times from dreams about the baby napping 3 hours while I sipped lemonade and read an actual book.

It was immature and not mommylike but when the monitor alarmed this morning, I tore the covers off, threw myself out of bed and across the room, and karate chopped that monitor to kingdom come.

Hours later when I woke up for the day, Tom had left for work, and I felt bad. I plugged Mr. Monitor into the wall to see if he still worked and he does. Hopefully now he'll think twice before false alarming again.


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Crawling. Like actually moving himself to places.

Ok, I hope this doesn't make me a bad parents, but crawling is one of those baby milestones I am not looking forward to. Eating solids was gross at first, but got better as Henry go the hang of it. Sitting up on his own is great because he can play with his toys more easily. But crawling? There's not really anything good about crawling, and it definitely won't get better as he gets the hang of it.

Crawling is scary for many reasons. First, learning to crawl is terrifying to watch. Henry will get up on all fours, scoot his legs forward, and because he can't figure out how to move his arms, he will nose dive into the floor. I can't even tell you the amount of times I was positive he'd broken his nose.

Second, mobility for an infant = no mobility for mom. I use to be able to plop Henry on the couch and run to go pee. When he started to roll, that became a no no. So, when my bladder was full, I could lay him on the floor and leave him for 90 seconds. Now that he is able to wiggle himself forwards and push himself pretty confidently backwards, I don't dare leave him alone on the floor. I learned my lesson after I walked away for a minute only to come back and find him under the sofa. Once he starts REALLY crawling, I'd probably find him in the oven or out on the balcony.

So. I guess it's great that Henry is learning new things, but one that kid gets the hang of this crawling thing, I'm worried for my sanity.

7 Months

Toys that rock.

Two bells tied onto some scraps of fabric. Watch baby go bonkers. Proceed.

Toys that suck

Johnny Jump Up sucks.