Laundry Commercials

For as long as I can remember, commercials for laundry detergent featured frustrated moms whose life's purpose was to make their family's clothing bright, crisp, and clean. She would lose sleep over her son's stained orange cummerbund, or blow her wispy bangs up with exasperation over her husbands "ring around the collar." What will she ever do?!

Even in the past few years, they deliver pertty similar messages. How will she get those stains out?!
My husband and I tend to do our laundry separately, just because it's always been that way. But if there's ever a question about stain removal, it usually ends up being my job. It's sort of weird how these roles are assumed. But it wasn't until after Charlotte arrived that I actually became that frustrated mom wanting to keep those little baby clothes from looking all faded and stained. Seriously? I never thought it would happen.

But that's not really the point! The point is that there is finally a commercial starring a "stay at home dad" by Tide. High five for P&G for changing up the gender roles for a minute. It's a cute commercial, really.

I love how he holds up a little girl dress and calls it a "thing". And in true man-form, references "problem solving" because that's how men approach everything.

That's all for my random thoughts of the day.

Go Ahead, Laugh At Me

But you might feel bad about it.

Today was one of the crappiest days I had in a while...as far as everything-going-wrong type of days go. I mean, when I think about it, I realize it's not bad. At all. But in the midst of trying to not go bat-shit crazy, it's hard to have perspective.

Let's start at the beginning. Time change. That effer can really screw with you. My facebook friends will already know that I took to the interwebs to voice my frustration, but that was really only the beginning.
I had to leave my house by 7am this morning, earlier, if I wanted to be on time for once. Well, at 6:45, my Charlotte-alarm was squealing and I leaped out of bed in a panic, wondering how much dry shampoo it would take to make my hair look like it had been wet-shampooed. I make a bottle and bring Charlotte to our bed and hope that Marcus can stay in bed with her for a few more minutes while I shower. (I decided I didn't want to waste an entire can of dry shampoo.) After I emerged from the bathroom, Marcus groggily asks me why I have to be to work so early...? Meanwhile it's actually FIVE FIFTY FIVE. AND MY DAUGHTER IS UP FOR (WHAT SHE THINKS) THE DAY. Ho, no. I got lucky and she went back to sleep.  Score for me.
I was able to get ready without too much annoyance, save finding a dirty thermos that had a little puddle of old coffee in it when all I needed was a clean thermos...
I load Charlotte up and head to my mom's to drop her off for the day. It's about a 20 minute drive, and then back another 20 minutes to work. Marcus had loaded up an old crappy air compressor in the back of my van since he just sold his Explorer and replaced it with a tiny impractical car. (I suppose that's an entirely different story.) He told me to go easy on my brakes and watch it on the curves because the air compressor may not stay upright. By the time I made it to the edge of our neighborhood, the stupid piece of crap went crashing over, terrifying me and my daughter and leaking oil in my sweet mom-ride.
So I move over to the side of the road and I try to lift it back up. I am wearing a skirt, tights and a dress coat. I'm crawling into the back of my van and surveying the oil spill dressed like a congress woman. (or a flight attendant, or librarian, as I'm often mistaken for. oh, and preschool teacher.) I attempt to lift the big dirty beast and it won't budge. I call Marcus and am very rude. I call my mom to see if she can meet me a little closer to the highway to save some time.
After I made it to the the highway exit, I transferred my kiddo into my mom's car and asked if she could maybe help me. I was able to lift up the compressor and adjust some newspaper to soak up some of the oil, but I can tell it's not going to stay in this position for long. There were some bungees and tow straps "holding it in place" but they may as well have been birthday party streamers as they were draped gracefully throughout the back of my van.
I said my goodbyes to Charlotte and my mom took the diaper bag and asked, "Where is her bottle?"
My spirit crumbled. How could I have forgotten?! My mom offered to pick one up at a near by store, knowing they don't have "her kind", but anything would do, right?!
I left for work, called my boss and said I needed to drop the oil monster to my husband's work because I wasn't going to leave it in my car all day. Within moments, it crashed onto it's side once again, even louder than before. I tried to adjust again after pulling into a gas station, but cannot get it to budge. Really missing the ol' personal trainer right about now. (I just asked Marcus, the compressor weighs 100 lbs. That explains my inability to lift it.)
I was 45 minutes late to work with an oil slick in my car, dirty hands, and a headache. It wasn't long after that my mom notified me that Charlotte refused to take the new bottle and protested loudly about it. It was going to be a long-ass day.
I honestly tried so hard during my 40 extra minutes of driving to be thankful amidst what I felt least thankful for. You know, taking a hint from all of the people doing 30 days of thanks on facebook or their blogs. I felt guilty for not praying the moment that I felt anger creeping in. Anger at Marcus for making me cart around what I felt to be a dangerous greasy time bomb, anger at myself for not being more responsible for setting my alarm properly, for remembering a bottle, and then forgetting a co-workers birthday card even though I just stopped at the store. I felt sorry for myself because on top of that, I felt like a pathetic wife and mother. Seriously, why couldn't I just get it together? I've been working harder at praying before I let things get out of hand. It doesn't always come naturally, and sometimes it doesn't feel like it's working.
I wanted people to coddle me and tell me that yes, my morning did suck, but then tell me how awesome I was and how clean my hair looked. But no one would. I can't rely on other people to make me feel better about myself.
I need to work harder on talking with God during those long car rides instead of fuming and getting more angry. It gets me nowhere.
So, I've determined something to be thankful for throughout my craptastic morning. I'm thankful that these days are (relatively) few and far between, and I'm thankful that even though I felt like I had worked a full day even before arriving at my job, I had a reminder that I need to spend more time in prayer. That in itself is probably worth it...and maybe, just maybe there will be even fewer craptastic days because of it.

side note: Charlotte refused her bottle all day, just as she had my first week back to work. But Marcus was able to pick her up a bit early. And that made me happy.

Dressing a Little Girl

On my days home with Charlotte, I've started to notice a fascinating phenomenon.
When I get her dressed in the morning, it's usually sort of fun. We have a few combos to choose from!
Do you want to wear your owl leggings with your ruffle shirt, or with your striped sweater? Or do you want to wear your owl t shirt with your striped leggings? Let's put a denim skirt over your leggings. And a vest.
Oh look! Matching socks...and this headband matches too!
10:30am: Hey, where did that headband go?
11:45: Let's take that skirt off. You don't need it and you can barely crawl when you're wearing it.
12:30: You're all sweaty! No need for this hooded vest, besides I can barely fit you in the carseat with all that extra bulk.
After her afternoon nap: Where did your other sock go? Here it is. Why is it all wet? And why do you have lint in your mouth?
So at this point, she's down to leggings, shirt and one dry sock.
3:30: Let's change your diaper! Oh boy. We're going to have to put these pants in the laundry.
By 5:30 when Marcus gets home from work, we're lucky if she has a shirt on. Seriously.

I'm nowhere close to learning a lesson here. Because I will be dressing her in layers tomorrow too. If we didn't, who knows what she'd be wearing by the end of the day.

Wagon Talk

Remember all that wagon talk from a couple of weeks ago? Well, I joined Weight Watchers. My mom and I have been going for almost two weeks now, and it's going pretty well.
I've done it in the past (about 4 years ago) and was successful. I always figured I could just do it on my own, but it never works for me. It's the accountability that I need. Knowing that I have to weigh in each week is huge motivation. My mom and I exchange delicious and healthy recipes and it's actually pretty fun to plan a meal. I do love to cook, and it's odd because I find I cook the "best" food while I'm watching my pudge.
My jeans are already fitting a little bit better and with my 10 year class reunion coming up, that's even more motivation.
My goal is to lose about 15 lbs. That would put me a bit lighter than I was before being pregnant, but I was working out like crazy then and was made of muscle. It's nuts to me that when I went back to work in April, I was smaller than I am now. Breastfeeding was good to me...stopping was not.  But no more excuses!!
Last time I did weight watchers, I had a little food blog that had about 4 views and 3 posts, but I am considering trying it out again and sharing my scale-friendly recipes. Would you check it out?

In other news, Charlotte is still giving me naptime grief, but does great for her grandmas. Whaa? Today she did go to sleep without a peep though, so hopefully we're getting over that stage. Sometimes I feel like she's not a little baby anymore. She's definitely not a toddler to me either, but she's like a baby tween. A boddler, maybe. I might have to come up with another tag other than sweet little munchkin baby. Maybe after her 1st birthday, I'll categorize it differently. I love how much fun she is lately, but when I hear and see news of friends becoming pregnant or delivering their baby...I get all misty and miss those newborn days ( a little ).
But no, it's not time for another one around these parts. Nosiree. I've been saying it out loud a little more often these days just to really reinforce it. For now. Baby fever is a virus that doesn't go away. My immunity is high at the moment. But as time goes by, I may get weaker. Oh! Perfect timing! Charlotte is shouting in her crib. Naptime over! Can't talk about little newborns! Gotta go! :)

O.M.Naps.

What in the WORLD happened to my good little sleeper? After all of tose sleep troubles, we finally got such a great sleeping baby. 2 (usually) long naps in the day and 12-13 hours at night without a peep.
This week, Charlotte has decided to cry for a good hour before napping. I've tried keeping her up a little bit longer thinking she might not be as tired, but then she cries and fusses when she's up. I've tried rocking her, and she throws herself out of my arms. The most she'd ever fuss would be maybe 5 minutes before falling asleep, but this 45-60 minute business is wearing me down!

We lowered her crib this week and I do wonder if that has anything to do with it. She's always sitting up and playing in her baby jail. She's always been just fine sleeping in her crib or pack n play. It's where she prefers to sleep. But now? Who knows.

Anyone else have sleep issues around 9 months with their kiddo?

My Sweet Little Charlotte

This little girl has been been making my heart melt into a big goopy puddle on a daily basis.



She is 9 months old and the most fun she's ever been.
She's crawling all over and experimenting with the steps. She wants to pull herself up but can't always make it all the way to her feet, so she "cruises" on her knees. It's adorable. (Well...I feel like everything she does is adorable at this point.)
Charlotte smiles at just about everyone and everything. She loves animals, especially Darby. And she finds it just as exciting to watch me play with Darby or other kids as it would be for me to play with her.
She loves every single food she's tried.
And lately she really likes to do eskimo kisses.
So since I have blogger's block, I will just share a few photos.

I've Fallen Off The Wagon

And I can't get up.

I feel like my life is in a state of chaos at the moment. I'm not talking about that "beautiful chaos" crap that having a child brings. I'm talking about "I just can't get my shit together" chaos.

Ive fallen off the eating right/fitness wagon that I was only on for a few weeks here and there. I have a random good day, but they're mostly filled with a donut hole, some cheez its, wine, and angry birds. It should be that I only have a random bad day. Time to switch it around.

I've fallen off "at least I'm attempting to stay on top of laundry and cleaning and cooking" wagon. I was never on that martha stewart freakishly tidy cute wagon. It's filled with a bunch of bitches and I want nothing to do with it.

I always brag about how I rarely get sick and should remember to stop myself from finishing the sentence because EVERY time within a week or so, I get a cold. So yes...I am getting a cold. It makes me crabby.

We joined our church almost 2 years ago, but haven't had a chance to get more involved, into a small group, etc...because I use my baby as an excuse. Even going to church on sunday has become so difficult because nearly every time we drop Charlotte off in nursery, I get paged at some point because she's so exhausted and doesn't have a place to sleep. (or the one time where they gave all the kids with teeth animal crackers and she didn't get one so she freaked the freak out!) Our services are at 8:30, 10 & 11:30. SURELY one of those times should work, right?! 8:30 would work if she slept until after 7:30, which does happen once in a while. By 9 am, this chick is ready for some zzz's. The nursery does have a pack in play, but it's in the area dividing the toddler room and the baby room. You think that's anywhere close to being a peaceful place to sleep? And on top of that, there are always 2-3 other kids that need a nap at the same time.
We've gone to 11:30 church, but since there is no service following, it goes reaaaalllly long and then we don't get home until ONE THIRTY. There goes Sunday!
My solution? Get a sitter on sunday morning to come to our house until she can stay awake a little longer in the morning. The hubs does not think this is the greatest solution, and thinks that we just need to keep experimenting. I'm all for testing the waters every few weeks or so to see what she can handle, but I just want some sort of routine on sundays and it simply doesn't exist.

In other non-whiney news, Charlotte is AWESOME. She had about 2 weeks of on and off crabby while a tooth was ready to break through, but now that it's through, she's SO happy. She's a fun little girl.

Okay. I'm not sure I'll have my crap together by my next post, but I'll work on it.
Adios for now!