Mrs. Potato Head is So Relatable These Days

There are some moments in the day when I think it would be kind of nice to have my limbs to myself. They’re sore. And probably deteriorating. There is so much lifting into car seats, cribs, high chairs, and piggy back rides. There is so much rocking and snuggle rearranging and carrying to bed. It’s my favorite, but literally, I’m. So. Sore. Luckily, I’ve found that caffeine in Vanilla Pepsi is WD40 for my joints.

I’ve also found that Gus can entertain and soothe Roscoe pretty well. Roscoe will almost always zero in on Gus if he is around and just stare. Maybe keeping one eye on your big brother is a self preservation instinct, but either way, it’s sweet and gives me a breather.

Gus recently rewarded Roscoe’s adoration by making him the beneficiary of all his extra stickers.

I watched this happen from the shower, hence the wet hair.
I watched this happen from the shower, hence the wet hair.

There is something noticeably special between these two. Is there baby bonding between all siblings? There are seconds that I see something in Roscoe’s eyes. Words he can’t yet say, maybe? Recognition, maybe? It’s a little flash that I only notice when his eyes are fixated on Gus.

It’s that one look that gives me strength walk around my house at the end of the day and gather my extremities that just snapped right off around 3 PM. It’s that one look that makes me giddy for their future friendship. That closeness that I can already see developing makes all the work of two babies under two worth it.

Continue Reading

It’s Kind of like Drunk Texting

Nighttime and a consistent lack of sleep is my personal cocktail for craziness. Irrational, weird, deep thinking craziness that you can completely understand at 3 AM, but in the morning is half forgotten and wholly embarrassing.

Rocking my babies in the night gives me quiet time to let my brain roam, and roam it does. Sometimes during it’s half asleep saunters, my brain stumbles upon worries. I worry about things like cookies bursting into flames if I overheat the oven, or Gus taking a picture of me naked and posting it on Instagram. I become concerned about 50 Cent’s recent bankruptcy. I worry about the types of infections I could get from a nail salon. I stress over what I would do in an emergency if I didn’t have clothes on and had to leave the house quickly.

Or, I shop. Sometimes my brain just says I have to.

With that in mind, I guess it’s pretty stupid of me to be surprised when packages like this arrive. I only half remember ordering this particular item, and I am a little confused why I addressed it to Brian. fire extinguishe

At least I can direct my worries away from the cookie inferno fixation.

Continue Reading

Because True Americans are Always Five Minutes Late

I know, the Fourth was a week ago, but listen. I smashed myself into a swimsuit 6 weeks postpartum and 5 minutes post barbeque, all in the name of patriotism, so I’m still posting about it.

I always feel hopeful that one year we will have the perfect Fourth of July: on the East Coast somewhere (the Hamptons would be nice), in a huge backyard, with lots of grilling, temperatures under 100, and fireworks. According to Instagram, that’s what Ja Rule was doing…Hamptons and all. Don’t even ask how I stumbled upon that.

I’ve often wondered what happened to Ja Rule.

Instead, my little family went to a rather large community parade that I love, with floats, giant balloons, veterans, the whole star spangled enchilada. You can’t celebrate America’s independence without a parade in the morning! Gus was amazed!IMG_2131IMG_2083

After, we went to a pool party at a friend’s house where I offended everyone’s eyeballs with the above mentioned swimsuit situation. Roscoe slept through both events, but Gus LOVED the day. Having a little guy makes life’s celebrations so much more exciting, so much more vivid!

We kind of did fireworks. Does it count if it’s still light outside when you light them? But, bedtime. Bedtime, bedtime, bedtime because I’m up all night, all night, all night. Still, it’s an improvement from last year when we didn’t even attempt. Maybe next year, we will make it until sunset!
G wasn't sure about fireworks, so no one minded Brian's firework show being cut short. Like, after 2. G wasn’t sure about fireworks, so no one minded Brian’s firework show being cut short. Like, after 2.

Continue Reading

I’m Worried My Brain is Just Decorative

You know, like a statement piece for my head. I was hoping my brain would work again after baby, but it’s still enjoying maternity leave, as demonstrated by my misplacing my car keys and driving to the grocery store with the spare…

Oh, hey. Found them.
Oh, hey. Found them.

…only to find them after I parked. They must have been hanging on and screaming, but stayed balanced up on my roof the whole ride! They weren’t even shut in the door. Man, I must have dipped into my good karma points for that kind of luck. I also have to congratulate myself for such smooth driving.

(I’d like to credit my unlikely but possible smooth driving to my parents, who made me learn with an incredibly obese driving teacher overflowing into both front seats, in a horribly embarrassing car with a “STUDENT DRIVER” light slapped on the top. You better believe the windows were not tinted.)

Anyway, luckily for my whole family, we haven’t been too dependent on my brain power and spend most of our days doing this:IMG_1060IMG_1372IMG_1625

You can interpret this as “nothing,” “being exhausted,” “looking homeless,” “cuddling,” or “being Gus’s house demolition audience.” Isn’t it a little unfair that the mind fog is thickest during the quick newborn stage you want to remember? After nine months of anticipation, wouldn’t it be nice to think clearly and remember every detail of your teeny baby? Thank goodness for pictures, and spare keys.

Continue Reading