The Departure of Dragon

When harper was born, my husband bought her a pacifier attached to a stuffed dragon. He said, “Every princess deserves to be protected by a dragon.” It was adorable. We all went, “awwwww”. Fast-forward almost 21 months later. Dragon has been with her every single nap and bedtime she has ever had in her life. And now the dentist tells me that if I don’t take it away from her now that she will have permanent dental damage. FLM… I have to remove her best friend at the ripe age of 1 1/2.

The first night we decided we were going to cut the tip-off the pacifier so that it didn’t serve it’s sucking purpose and hopefully she would relinquish her attachment to him on her own. “She won’t even realize what happened, but will just stop sucking on it at night!” “Great advice” I received from the dental assistant. Next time I see her I might punch her. Not only did Harper notice that something was wrong with Dragon, but she immediately went into extreme mourning over the changes she discovered in her best friend. She screamed and screamed for almost an hour before she finally fell asleep (I assume only because of the exhaustion caused by so much crying). I thought, “whew, we made it through the first and hardest night.” I jinxed myself so bad with that thought. 1:00 AM rolls around and a horrifying cry comes pouring out of her room. She had woken up and Dragon couldn’t console her. The death-curdling cries proceeded for another hour or so (although it felt like a lifetime) before it subsided and she fell back asleep for the remainder of the night.

Day two: nap time. I sit here writing this post as my daughter screams her lungs out in her room because there is no way in hell anyone could ever take a nap without their pacifier. How dare I even suggest such a thing? Everyone keeps telling me to just stay strong. Those people should be the ones to come and put her down for her nap without her paci. Then at least I’m not the monster that disfigured her best friend and left her to deal with the aftermath. I just watch her on the monitor, so sad, so upset. And I feel like the worst mom ever. I hate the dentist. They did this to me… to us!

I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that there is no turning back on the decision to take Dragon’s pacifier from Harper (or is there??). I think I must come to terms that I may never sleep again for the remainder of my life. I feel the pain and suffering of every other mom in the world who has gone through this, and envy the ones who made it through the journey alive. Dragon was meant to protect princess Harper, and he isn’t going to let go without a fight. I guess I’ll pour myself a tall glass of wine and contemplate the future, paci free. Wish me luck.

I will remember you… RIP Dragon December 2013-September 2015


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A Note to the Childless

It has been a long time since I have taken on my TrendyHotMama blog. The last I left you, I was entering my third trimester of pregnancy, and was living in ignorant bliss to the reality of the life that lay ahead of me. Well, over a year later, I am happy to report that I am still alive, and more importantly, I have kept my mini-human alive as well. 2014 was a roller coaster of emotions, experiences, adjustments, and learning how to mold myself to fit this new way of life. The first few weeks of Harper’s life are actually a pretty big blur. I remember sleeping on the floor in her nursery because she didn’t want to sleep in her pack n play in our room, and she would wake up every hour or two (I mean, honestly, who knew babies actually did that, right? I thought it was all just lies told to scare people for population control). As the weeks passed by, our daily lives got easier. My life was consumed with bottles, sleep schedules, tummy time, and diapers. I am a routine junky, so this suited me just fine, and Harper was thriving in the little world we were creating for her. I missed out on a lot of fun times because I was so consumed with this routine and making sure she was on schedule. My husband and I said “no” to a lot of invitations. This was one of my first mistake, among many that I made as a new mom. I ignored my friends because I thought I was “too busy”. When I returned to work, I can’t even pretend like I was upset. I was beyond excited to get back to the working world, and hopefully retrieve some sort of resemblance of the life I had before baby (just with an awesome new companion to join me). Looking back on this now, I don’t think I have ever been more naïve in my entire life. So much changes when you have a child. Your body is now a big flubberly ball, no matter how great you eat or how often you work out (and lets be real, I eat like a fat kid, so I wasn’t doing myself any favors). But the body issues were peanuts compared to the other sacrifices. You can no longer go to happy hours at a whim. Date nights must be strategically planned out in advance. Traveling is like preparing for nuclear war. Even going on a run, which used to be my solace, was an extraordinary obstacle. The hardest part for me, however, was the realization that the world wasn’t stopping to wait for me to regain my footing. Events continued to be scheduled, trips planned, and drinks drank without even an invitation extended to me or my husband. I was losing friends, and it was the time when I needed them the most. But I didn’t blame them. No one wants to eat dinner while a baby cries in the background. Movie nights are much better at a theater than at home with frequent interruptions. And trips are so much easier to plan when you don’t have a mini-human who owns more stuff than Kim Kardashian to travel with as well. I knew all this, because I was living it every day. Being one of the first of your friends to have a child is really like being sent out to the front line to see if you live. The rest of the army is waiting to see if they should follow. But the trade off was and still is worth it. Harper Rita is the light in every single one of my days. Her smile could pull me out of the worst mood possible, and lift me to the highest heights. Her laugh is contagious, and her cry cuts through to my soul. I feel pain with her, and I feel joy with her. I would trade anything in the world to spend just a few extra minutes with her each day. I get excited thinking about the fun adventures we will get to play together. Even something as simple as the promise of peek-a-boo is more exciting to me than any happy hour in the world. But I still miss my pre-baby adventures. So here is my public service announcement to all the non-parents out there with new parent friends. Don’t forget about them. They may say “no” to an invitation a hundred times in a row, but they appreciate each and every one of those requests. It might be that one hundred and first invitation that they finally can say “yes” to, and we will be beyond excited to spend that baby-free night or weekend with our friends. And I promise that when you decide to start a family of your own, we will understand why you have slept on the floor for weeks, haven’t worked out in a month, and keep saying “no” to invitations. Because we were in the trenches first. But we will keep inviting you to everything, and will be so excited when the time come that you finally get to say “yes”.   10390968_10205399060446227_2752216583132322441_n


The last few weeks have been insanely busy.  I truly don’t think I still have fully come to terms with the changes happening in my body, and I very much am still trying to live the life of a pre-pregnant woman.  This was very blatantly observed over the course of last weeks “Babymoon”.

Everyone told my husband and I about how important it was to go on vacation one last time before Harper makes her official entrance into the world.  To take some time to relax, reflect, and rest before our world is turned completely upside-down.  A relaxing, reflecting and restful vacation?  That sounds horrible to me!  Why would I spend money to go sleep on a beach when I can sleep right in my own bed and not spend a dime?  My husband and I just aren’t those types of people.  We crave adventure, excitement, and entertainment!  Plus, lets be real… my husband is a red-head and beach vacations are his kryptonite.  So, with all this in mind, we decided to skip the boring relaxation part, and went big.  The plan was to fly to Vegas, stay for a day, drive to Santa Monica, CA, stay another day, then drive back to Vegas, stay the weekend and come home.  It would be our last hurrah before Harper and all her glory take over our lives.  And I was ecstatic.

“Vegas while pregnant?” you say?  Why yes, it does suck not being able to drink in Sin City.   And yes, I received hundreds of nasty looks from drunk-off-their-ass bitches wondering why I was even allowed in Vegas while pregnant.  It was very hard getting over the self-consciousness that came with the judgments and looks, but Vegas is actually an amazingly fun city, even when you’re sober!  We got to experience all the activities I have always been to drunk to enjoy on past trips to Vegas.  For example, I have never actually made it over to Madame Tussauds Wax Museum.  This is actually an incredibly fun experience, and my husband and I had a blast taking pictures with all our favorite celebrities!  I have also always wanted to see a Vegas show, but by the time the shows are set to start, I am usually 6 feet deep and barely remember what I’ve eaten that day.  So we decided to make my dream a reality and go see KA at the MGM Grand.  I have seen my fair share of traveling Cirque de Soleil shows, but this one is by far the most amazing production I have ever seen.  Finally, I am not a gambler, and actually do not enjoy most aspects of this American past-time, but sports betting is awesome, and watching the Broncos in Vegas was something I have always wanted to do.  And low and behold, we even won money!

Santa Monica is one of my new favorite cities, and we were lucky enough to stay directly on the pier.  We got our fill of seafood, and people here were much more receptive to my pending motherhood (AKA, no one looked at me as if I was a leper like in Vegas).  If there was a relaxing part of the trip, this leg was definitely it.  Although we still walked almost 10 miles per day just out exploring the city!  Like I said, we aren’t exactly the “relaxing” type. 

Overall, I am so extremely happy we decided to take this “Babymoon”, and I definitely recommend all future parents take a trip, any type of trip you like, before baby arrives.  Life is going to be changing forever in just three more months (maybe less!), and it is so important to me that I maintain my personality and sense of self-being, and this trip certainly helped tremendously with that.  Now we just need to buckle down and get to work finishing up all the tasks still left ahead!  My baby shower is in two weeks, there is still plenty to do to finish up Miss Harper’s new digs, and I have now officially entered the “most uncomfortable trimester”.  Yippie.  But at least now I can let Harper know that she has already been to Vegas, and that her next journey there will be in 21 years, and obviously I will be with her…and for that trip I won’t be the sober one. 🙂










The Breast Decisions

Breastfeeding.  To many this might not seem like an intimidating word.  To other, including myself, it is the principal source of fear and trepidation to becoming a new mom.  The debate between breastfeeding and formula feeding moms is like watching a cage match between rabies-infested dogs.  How are first-time moms suppose to get all the information they needs to make this important decision from an unbiased source as well as make a decision for herself without feeling like the world is judging her every move?  And what truly is the best route for me, personally?  I want to breastfeed, but I just don’t understand how to make it work, while still having time for yourself!  Just to clear the air before I even begin, I am not trying to boil any pots or cause any arguments.  I am just an honest new mom looking for honest answers to honest questions.


We have all seen the mom at the baseball game with her boob hanging out, just feeding her baby like its nothing at all.  All the men sitting around her are awkwardly forcing their attention in other directions as to not blatantly stare at her exposed-to-the-world nipple.  Or how about the women featured on the cover of Time magazine who was still breastfeeding her elementary school aged son?  There is certainly a stigma associated with publicly breastfeeding, which is so sad to me because all these women are doing is feeding their babies.  They are trying their best to do what they feel is right for their child, and if that means feeding in the middle of a crowded restaurant, then who are we to judge?  But it also boggles my mind how these women that choose to exclusively breastfeed are able to have time to do anything for themselves, such as work out, have full time jobs, or go out for drinks with friends.  Which brings up another thing I learned while doing my online research on breastfeeding… you can’t drink!!!  You are expected to abstain from alcohol for 9 months while growing your mini human, and then you are told that you now must go without alcohol for an additional 6 months (or at least that’s how long they recommend that you breastfeed) in order to feed your little one.  What cruel irony.


“Breast is Best” is the mantra for all the doctors, nurses, and lactation clinics who barrage pregnant women with information on why they should be exclusively breastfeeding for at least the first 6 months of a baby’s life.  The nutrients in breast milk cannot be duplicated, and breast milk will help your baby fight illness, score higher on IQ testing, and lowers the probability that they will be obese in their adult life, just to name a few.  Which leads you to believe that if you in fact choose to formula feed (or are forced to due to uncontrollable circumstances), your poor babe is destined to be a sick, low performing, fat adult.  That is a hard pill for me to swallow, seeing how I know many children who were not breast-fed and turned out just wonderfully.  Why must there be so much pressure on how a woman chooses to feed her child? 


Breastfeeding is considered the “gold standard”, but I just don’t understand how so many women make this work while still having a life for themselves.  With things such as bleeding nipples, biting, being on call for feedings 24 hours a day, low milk supplies, etc etc etc, it just seems like a daunting feat for any woman to commit on becoming an exclusive breast-feeder.  And then you get into having a full-time job, which is the biggest weight on my mind in regards to breastfeeding.  I plan on returning to work full time because I want to, not because I have to, and it is something that is important to me.  But the idea of sitting in a room all alone a few times a day with my boobs just hanging out being pumped by a mechanical machine while I have piles of work to be done and customers needing assistance every other moment is mind-boggling to me.  And I usually take my lunch breaks to get in a work-out, which would have to go away in order to provide enough time to make sure I am pumping enough.  This would mean that I would have to go to the gym after work, leaving less time to actually enjoy my baby.  Or worse yet, not work out at all!  How do these women make it work?  What happens if you simply don’t have time in your day to get this done?


So many women, including myself, also take the time to research the option of exclusively formula feeding.  You have more time to get things done, you are able to return to work full time without the obligation of pumping every few hours, your boobs stay in-tact, you can drink!  But with that comes the judgment that is associated with formula feeding your baby, which arrives in the form of an onslaught of horrible negativity aimed at the new mother.  “Guilt” is the main adjective that is used when describing many mothers who formula feed their children.  These women are coined by the internet blogs as being selfish mothers who are not providing the best they can for their child.  Who is judging the quality of their parenting skills anyway?  And it seems to me that a much more likely determiner of obesity, IQ score, and health is based off the parent’s genetic disposition, not their choice of nutritional supplementation.  Even the topic of exclusively pumping brings a firestorm of debate.  So if this route is the path you end up following, you are already beginning your journey with a bad rap.


So I sit here, stressed to all kingdom come.  I plan on trying to breastfeed Harper when she is born.  But if it isn’t the route for us, I certainly don’t want to be made to feel like I am a second-grade parent who is selfish and doesn’t care about the health of their baby.  I also want to be able to work full time and not stress at every moment as to whether or not I will pump enough to continue to feed her.  And finally, I want to be able to enjoy a drink, or a few.  I would ask that any mother who has gone through this journey please share their experiences, advice, and wisdom to me as a new mom and all the new mom’s that read this blog as well. 



Mood Swings

The world we live in is filled with different opportunities every moment of every day to upset you, excite you, or make you overwhelmingly happy. Swings in your emotional state are a staple of human nature regardless of if you are pregnant or not. The mood swings that occur with pregnant women, however, can and should be considered lethal.

I have never been the steadiest person when it comes to my emotional state. It doesn’t take much to put me in a good mood, and it certainly doesn’t take a great deal to throw that good mood out the door. A solo dance party in my car on the way home from work can make the entire day for me, and I have been known to be a bit overly hyper on more than one occasion. But I certainly have a short fuse for stupidity, and my great mood can also vanish the second someone utters an incoherent or irrational rant on something not worth the breath they used to say it with. This has always been true of my good and bad moods, and my husband would attest that I can switch between a happy and sad state at least 10 times on any given day. When I got pregnant, it was like an atomic bomb went off in the part of my brain that controls rational emotional control, and I quickly became the most bipolar personality to ever not actually be bipolar.

It happens without me even knowing it is occurring. I will dance party my way to work to the new Beiber song, and instantly be in the best mood ever. I’ll get into work, say hello to all my co-workers, and bounce around the office like I took 5 shots of espresso, ready to tackle the day. Then I check my email, see that someone is mad at something that I find to be completely outlandish, and the gates of hell have officially been opened. At this moment if someone came in to talk to me, I might actually rip their head off and mail it to their next of kin. I’ll stay this way for minutes, maybe even hours, before the new Justin Timberlake song comes on the radio and I begin a new dance party. All is well in the world once again. But by this point everyone is already so afraid of my earlier demonic state that no one wants to share in my frenzied state. So then I get devastatingly sad that no one wants to play with me, and I begin to cry, which in turn makes me mad at myself, but then another awesome song comes on and I’m back to my happy state of mind. What a whirlwind of emotions I have gone on, and it might have only been an hour.

The main causality to this pregnancy emotional turmoil would most definitely be my husband. He often has absolutely no idea how to act or react to anything I do or say. Anything uttered out of his mouth could and often is easily misconstrued, and send me faster than a speeding bullet into a devilish state or might put me into uncontrollable tears. A humble “Is that a new dress?” could easily be taken as “You had to buy new clothes because your getting so big and nothing will fit you”. It might also be interpreted as “You are the most beautiful women in the world”. Both of these options will solicit completely different mood swings, one happy, one sad, or perhaps very angry. He can never win. I feel terrible for him, and it makes me very sad, which cause a whole new mood swing battle to occur.

I am fully aware that many women actually suffer from bi polar disorder during pregnancy, and I in no way shape or form am attempting to belittle or compare my crazy hormonal imbalances to their serious symptoms. But I do know that there is little I can do to control my freak-outs and hypersensitivity to the situations around me. So next time your near me and notice me smile, laugh, scream and cry all within 10 minutes, just attribute it to Harper and join me in counting the days until I can have alcohol again to calm my crazy nerves. I found this shirt on Pinterest, and plan on making it into a maternity shirt as a forewarning to others that I am in desperate need of a beer. Also, I included a photo of the crib we purchased this past weekend. She is going to be such a little princess with her princess bed. Her room is starting to come together very nicely! I’ll post more pictures once it is closer to completed.



Identity Crisis

In high school, I think I was a fun time. In college, I know I was a fun time. Even post-college, I would venture to say that I was still a pretty fun time. In pregnancy, however, I suck. I never wanted to be one of those pregnant people who would just sit around and mope about how sick they feel, tired they are, how they can’t drink, the list goes on and on. But here I am, doing just that. It honestly makes me think that the source behind my fun personality was often all drawn from alcohol, and that the only reason I would have so much fun was because I would liquor myself up and YOLO the hell out of everything I did. Take that liquid courage away, and I’ve discovered I’m really a very boring person.

The number one question I get from anyone I see is “how are you feeling?” How am I supposed to be feeling? “Fine” is my standard response, because I simply do not know what answer people are looking for. Do they want me to tell them that I feel blessed every moment of every day about this little miracle growing inside me, and I am just so pleased with all the wonderful changes that are happening to my body (which might be true if I sat and thought about it, but that sure as shit isn’t the first thing that pops into my head)? Or are they expecting me to go on and on about how my feet are swollen, I walk like I have a stick shoved up my ass because I worked out two days ago and I’m still sore, or that I feel like a hippo? It seems to me this answer would make me seem like a negative person, and that certainly is not the personality type that I am going for. So I just stick to the standard “fine”, and see how deep they want to divulge into that response.

I wish that I could say that my personality hasn’t changed one bit, but that would be a bold-faced lie, and that is what I am trying to stay away from in my blog. Rather, I have discovered that I am a very lazy person. The option to sleep in 100% always wins over going out for an early morning run, going to a late dinner, seeing friends, or pretty much anything else exciting that I could participate in. And this is all during the second trimester, or the trimester hailed for all the “extra energy” I would have. Even running, which was the main staple of my life pre-pregnancy and the only thing that had the capability to calm me in times of stress, is completely exhausting to me. After runs of only 3-4 miles (short background knowledge, I would easily run 5 miles during lunch breaks and bust out 10-13 mile runs most weekends), I am so sore and tired that I am completely out of commission for at least 2 days. On the plus side, I get so many thumbs up from people on the trail when I run, even at my slow as molasses pace, that I want to keep running despite the pain and soreness just to feel cool about myself and keep receiving kudos from passer-byers. I don’t ever want to do pre-natal yoga (I hate yoga, so I can only imagine that pre-natal yoga would be a sweet form of torture for me). So I sleep instead. Or I eat. My new personality really does suck.

To give myself a little bit of credit, I have tried to force myself out to enjoy different events as much as possible, but just nowhere near my pre-preggy self. My husband and I have planned a super fun baby-moon in a few weeks, so I’m seriously hoping that this will bust me out of the comatose state that I have been locked in. We are planning a trip to Vegas, then road-tripping to LA and the Santa Monica Pier, then back to Vegas. This trip encompasses everything that I would ever want out of a vacation, and if I am a wet blanket through the whole thing I will just die. I want to do everything in Vegas that I haven’t been able to do before because I have been too drunk (seriously, have you ever really thought of all the fun things there are to do in Vegas if you could just control the drinking?). And I have been purchasing lots of winter adventure items for little Harper, so that when she comes into this world, she will get to start her life living the YOLO spirit as well, despite the chilly weather. She is going to be a little winter marshmallow, and the thought of this brings the biggest smile to my face. Despite the bitching, I am starting to get incredibly excited to meet our little girl!



What’s Your Biggest Fear?

What’s your biggest fear?  I feel like no one is fully honest about the fears that they face in their lives, and that they cover their experience with a veil of hearts and butterflies and lollypops to make themselves seem stronger, happier, and invincible.  This is especially true when talking about pregnancy.  The reality of my impending motherhood is really starting to settle in, and I think I might be starting to experience my first round of true terror.  I officially got a “congratulations” from someone at work, meaning that I legitimately look pregnant, and have gotten over the hump of awkward early pregnancy hump.  So now all the fears of what becoming a mother will really be like are starting to weight on my mind and I must come face to face with these issues and figure out a way to solve them.  Instead of covering them up and pretending I’m a superwoman, I decided to share these fears with you. 


The first big fear that I am staring down is weight gain, and obviously you all know about this fear because I talk about it NONSTOP.  Thing is, I have stretch marks from The Freshmen 35 (yeah, I more than doubled it… college was fun and I went a bit overboard), and I am dreading how bad my skin will look after this expanding tummy takes full control.  Stretchy pants make it look like I have a permanent camel toe, and because I’m off balance all the time, I walk with a permanent waddle. And I just know that this is going to make my already Jennifer Lopez ass become one for the record books.  I won’t spend too much time on this fear because I talk about it every week.  However, it is important to note that my husband and friends have been absolutely awesome in helping with my self-esteem; I just have to actually listen to them!


Another gripping fear I have started to develop is that something is going to go wrong with my pregnancy.  Network television certainly does not help with this dread.  It seems like since I found out I was pregnant, the amount of TV focused on the horror stories of pregnancies gone wrong has quadrupled, and I’m completely convinced that it will all happen to me.  It just seems like so much can go wrong.  Simple things like lying on my back, eating a bug, taking medicines (even though my doctor promises that they are 100% safe) or even working out to hard, cause tremendous anxiety that I am ruining everything.  I don’t think this fear will ever go away, even after Harper is born.  I will just keep forcing myself to think happy thoughts!


Finally, the biggest fear that I have developed is the overwhelming panic that I am going to be a terrible mother.  I assume this is something that every mother experiences at some point in her pregnancy (or at least I hope I am not the only one).  I possess absolutely no redeeming features that would qualify me to watch any sort of child, let alone a baby, and in a few months I am expected to be the full caretaker of an infant.  I keep having these dreams where I forget to pick up Harper from the Quickie Mart (seriously, in my dreams it looks like the store from The Simpsons), and she has been there for 24 hours with no food or water or anything, and I just pick her up alongside my slushie and continue on with my day.  Neither my husband nor I know how to feed a baby, what size diapers to buy, or even how to begin to change a diaper!  We signed up for a class at our hospital that is suppose to teach us how to care for a baby, but I highly doubt this 3 hour class is going to even scratch the surface of what lays ahead.  They all say it will just come naturally… but for a psycho planner like me, that just isn’t going to cut it.  


I hope that by sharing some of my biggest fears with you that maybe people can help me out with any advice you have to overcome them!  Everyone has a fear that they live with, this just happens to be mine.


On a lighter note and as a follow-up to last week’s blog, I thought I would share a funny pregnancy brain story with you that occurred this past week.  While preparing my yummy dinner of spaghetti, butter, cheese and sauce, I happily pranced about the kitchen getting everything ready.  Just as I was preparing my entire meal, I looked down only to realize that I had served my entire dinner portion not in my appointed pasta bowl, but instead in the tub of butter that I had pulled out.  My husband saw the whole thing, and thought I just really wanted a lot of butter on my spaghetti, so he didn’t say a word as not to offend me.  Yeah, I’m an idiot. 



Pregnancy Brain

I have never had a respectable memory…  When I meet someone new, there is a good chance that I have forgotten their name less than 1 minute after the initial introduction.  Because of this, I am a slave to lists simply so I know that I have completed everything that needs to be done and not let anything fall to the pit of my worthless memory.  As pregnancy takes its hard grip on my body, it has also begun its conquest of my brain as well, leaving me feeling like I have the memory of the baby that I am soon to have.


I seriously feel like I can’t remember anything anymore unless it is written down. Even then, I often look at what I have written down with a completely blank stare wondering why the hell I wrote down what I did.  And my mind trails off in completely different directions faster than a bunny being chased by a fox.  I have given improper instructions to co-workers, forgotten to pack items I needed for the day, and almost every day I have to question whether or not I have already taken my pre-natal vitamins (most of the time I assume I have already taken them, even though I honestly have absolutely no idea).  But the strangest thing is that I am 100% forgiven for all the idiotic mistakes I have made based on my developing pregnancy Alzheimer’s.  Even when I sent my maintenance tech at work to the completely wrong apartment to fix a leaking shower, I was exonerated without question.  Its like I have gained a total immunity to every stupid mistaken I make, regardless of the impact it has made to others around me. 


I love being able to get away with almost anything and without even saying a word, people attribute my errors to the pregnancy.  It’s like having a free hall pass to say and do the things you have always wanted to, but knew you never could.  Like the other day I had left-over cookies from a party, and I ate three of those bad boys before 10 AM.  If I hadn’t been pregnant, the comments of my overzealous appetite for these delicious sweets would have obviously brought on a plethora of negative comments.  But since I’m with child, I’m off limits to any sort of comment on my unhealthy eating habits.  Even if I decided to dress ala Kim Kardashian pregnancy style (aka- wear extremely inappropriate attire for my growing body), no one would ever say a word, which is why she did it I bet.  Or why Jessica Simpson let it be known that she buttered her pop tarts.  No one will ever comment on what a pregnant woman eats, at least not to her face.  Which make me think if anyone commented on my cookie-eating binge behind my back… I hope not, that would hurt my feelings, and I’m overly emotional right now, due to the hormones.


I realize that I have once again gone off topic, but as is the way with pregnancy brain.  My only hope is that after Harper makes her grand arrival, my brain will go back to being just partially incapable of remembering anything, and I hope I don’t forget things that are important as a mother, like bathing her or feeding her!  I’ve actually had nightmares about forgetting to feed her.  I’ve also had nightmares about a giant war with elephants, but that’s a story for a different blog.





Waddle It Be?

Pinterest has changed my life since I discovered it 2 years ago.  If I had known of its existence while I was planning my wedding, I can only imagine how different everything would have turned out.  Since I didn’t have it then, however, I have more than made up for it in my party gatherings since.  Obviously when I found out I was pregnant, Pinterest was my go-to source of cute, informative, and creative ideas for my pending motherhood.  And this is where the idea of the Gender Reveal Party came into play.  What a great way to share the discovery of the gender of our first child with our closest family and friends!  Plus, this would give me such an awesome platform to throw a Pinterest party!  Thus the “Waddle It Be?” party was born.


Our idea was a tried and true one… the gender reveal cake.   The doctor would write the gender of the baby on a piece of paper, seal it in an envelope, and we would immediately deliver this huge secret envelope to the bakery.  They then would dye the inside of a heavily frosted cake either pink or blue and we would get to discover the sex of our baby alongside the guests at the party.  My husband and I had decided on the names for both a boy and girl, so this was also our opportunity to share the official name with everyone.   


I was completely fine with either a girl or boy.  Being one of three girls, I have never grown up around boys, and loved the idea of building a pro athlete.  Dressing him up in cute bowties, mini suits, and fake mustaches. I also loved the idea of having a little girl and dressing her up in adorable outfits, having princesses everywhere, future proms, and making sure she attended a college with my sorority.  My husband is the middle child of three boys, and so all he has ever know is boys, so the idea of a girl scared him a little, but he welcomed either gender, and just simply wanted to know.


The party was complete with duckies, pink and blue items galore, and tons of food, all ideas courtesy of Pinterest.  We had guests guess what they thought the names would be, and everyone wore either pink or blue based on what they thought baby S was.  And then it was time to cut the cake.


Baby S is a girl!!!  Harper Rita Strickland will be joining our household this December, and we could not be more excited!  My husband may be a bit terrified of the unknown “fairer” sex, but I just know this little princess is going to be the biggest daddy’s girl this world has ever seen.  Let the planning begin!ImageImage






Old Wives Tales

waddle it be

We find out the sex of Baby S this week, and I’m literally about to pee my pants with excitement (or it could be because I’m pregnant and have to pee every 5 minutes, but either way I have to pee). I cannot wait to start decorating the nursery, buying up incredible amounts of overly cute, insanely overpriced items from (if you have not discovered Etsy, you absolutely MUST take a peek, and I even figured out that I could register there!), and finally being able to put a name to the invader in my tummy. It completely boggles my mind how anyone would ever have the self control to wait until birth to find out the gender of their child, because I’m pretty sure this would cause the most anxiety possible in my life and I would be ripping out my hair every moment of every day. I mean, how would I know what to buy, how to decorate, or if I needed to prepare for things like dance recitals or footballs games? Apparently I am just an extreme version of an over-planner, and must have everything laid out and completely organized in order to feel secure with any situation I find myself in, including pregnancy and motherhood. So obviously I have scoured the internet for any clues to what the sex of our baby will be before we get the official news this Saturday, and have come up with a list of some “old wives tales” used for generations. I thought I would share some of the best ones with you, and in a few days we will be able to tell which ones were bogus or not!

Carrying high vs. low
First of all, what does this even mean? How do I know if I’m high or low? I feel huge everywhere. And after I eat I’m pretty sure my tummy moves all over the place, so it could be considered both high and low. Maybe this means I’m having a transgendered baby. So point goes to transgender.

Heart Rate
They say that if your baby’s heart rate is over 140 beats per minute that you are having a girl, and under would be a boy. I’m a runner, and I expect that a resting heart rate should always be as low as possible, so when I find out that the baby’s heart rate is 151 and 144 (respectfully at each ultrasound), and even though I know this is 100% fine and normal, I am bothered that the child has not developed the cardiovascular stamina of its mother. But regardless, point goes to girl.

Sweet vs. Sour
The rumor goes that if you crave sweets more than salty or sour things then you are destined to have a girl. Well I have officially eaten more Dairy Queen in the past 3 months then I have in the past 3 years, and slowly but surely I have stopped eating as much of my dinner every night in order to ensure enough room in my belly to stuff my face with fruit snacks or chocolate or ice cream or berries or pretty much anything sweet. Point- Girl

If you are having a girl, it is said that you will break out more and your skin will be flawed because this little growing lady is “stealing your beauty”. Well if this is in fact true, this tiny munchkin is stealing everything I got, because I look like a teenage boy who works at McDonalds next to the fry machine. If this predictor is true, then I will have to have a serious discussion with little girl about how it’s not nice to make mommy look like shit. Point-girl.

Morning Sickness
If you have been reading this blog, it is no secret that morning sickness destroyed me the first few months. This is apparently a sure fire sign that the baby causing the agony is a girl. So it appears that a girl not only steals your beauty, but also is the culprit behind the worst aspect of pregnancy. Really, we will have to have a discussion as soon as possible so that it is blatantly clear that it is just not nice to ruin mommy’s life. Point-girl

Sympathy Weight
Husbands can throw themselves into the eating frenzy just as much as their pregnant wives, and sometimes end up eating substantially more than their preggy counterparts. If I could guess why this is it would be because pregnant wife has the eye of a 500 lbs obese person, but ends up getting full super fast due to a baby pressing against all of her stomach region, and therefore hubby must step in and eat the leftovers. So if hubby does end up falling to this curse of placebo pregnancy, then it is said baby will be a girl. My man, however, has stood tall against the cravings and the leftovers, and has not gained weight. Point- boy.

This is just a short list of some “old wives tales”, but they are all tending to lean the same way. If they end up being true (including the 50 other predictors that I found on the internet that I failed to mention on this blog), it looks like Baby S will be a bouncing baby girl. All will be discovered soon enough at our gender reveal, and I can’t wait to share the official news with all of you as well as the name that our babe will have! On another note, here is a photo of me getting my baby fix on with a new addition to our world gifted to us by my beautiful former co-worker just a few weeks ago!