breastfeeding,  motherhood,  toddlers

Snow Day

We got 4 big inches overnight, which are mostly melted by now, but which nevertheless sufficed to turn my kids batshit crazy for the morning, so, rest of the country? I (somewhat) feel your pain. But not really, because it will be 52 tomorrow and we’re going sunbathing.
I call this image: “What up, that’s my dead Christmas tree on our front porch.”

Today at Chipotle, my male cashier confided to me that he is going to have kids someday just so he can  “wear them like that,” pointing at my Ergo-strapped load. In potentially related news, the entire strip mall in which said Chipotle resides reeked of (legal) marijuana. Hail, Colorado.

Last night was date night, and we had a real sitter lined up and everything…okay, it was my little sister, who lives in our basement for 29 more days until her wedding (WOOT WOOT), but still, she was willing to sit on babies for free. And yet somehow, by 7:19 pm with both boys in bed, I couldn’t summon the energy to put on real pants. So we improvised with a stowed away bottle of Malbec and an amazon prime gem about Beatrix Potter’s love life. Gentlemen, you wish your wives treated you this good…

(Wine was a bad choice.)

After reading one too many posts about children light-years younger than Joey this week, I made a snap decision and announced to him that he had outgrown pull-ups and was now a man who could use the facilities at night. He excitedly asked if this meant I could take the lock off of his bedroom door knob and then proceeded to use his newfound freedom to visit the bathroom 9 times last night (that we know of).

Whatever. He woke up with dry sheets this morning. Now onto my next project, teaching him to pull a decent shot of espresso.

Tonight is not date night, but it is “Mommy flees the house with a sister and/or girl friend for one drink, one trip to the thrift store and maaaaaybe a pit stop at Target, if she’s lucky.” The real question being: to pump or not to pump. I think if I do go the pumping route, I might get myself 4 whole hours of freedom. Not that I could stay out that late. But still, the thought of being able to is tantalizing.

So I guess either lunch at Chipotle or pumping breast milk is my one thing today…bit of a reach, but it’s that kind of day.

And since these kinds of posts are clearly the reason I was nominated for a Sheenazing award in the categories of best mom blog (okay) funniest blogger (well…) coolest blogger (not even close) and smartest blog (I’m sorry, I’m competing with Simcha, is that even real? No.) why not hop over to Bonnie’s and cast your vote. 


  • Anonymous

    Holy moly, is that a Gund Snuffles circa early 1980s?! My kid sleeps with my old Snuffles, too. I was somewhat disappointed when I presented it to him, since he didn’t explode with delight as I had assumed anyone would upon exposure to a Gund Snuffles bear. Let’s just say that when I was a kid, I actually planned to be BURIED with mine. Snuffles and me together forever…in a casket. Such is the power of that adorable bear. Glad you passed on the love!

    • Jenny

      My brain just started bleeding because I’m pretty sure my parents made up the adorable story that *I* named Snuffles, and come to find out he came with his name?! But yes, a 1982 Gund Snuffles, and one I literally slept with up until the night before my wedding, I think. And my firstborn son merely nodded his head in acknowledgement when I passed him along, yes, expecting fireworks. He also calls him simply “Bear,” which is heartbreaking.

  • Colleen

    Pumping is from the devil!! Oh I hate it so much even though I have to do it when I’m working. And I’ve never heard of a baby not liking wine/alcohol before, poor you! I do know my kids tended to nurse a lot more if I drank, probably because I would be slightly dehydrated and not making as much milk. But I know you are all over the water situation now 🙂

  • Kris

    Voted yesterday! And I’m casting my vote for pumping and getting out of the house. A few child-free hours will be good for the soul. Last night, I piled into the bed by myself and caught up on the last two episodes of Downton Abbey. Despite the fact that I had some inklings of poor Anna’s situation from other people’s comments, I’m still reeling this morning.

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