Confession: I am Terrified of Bathtime



I don’t know what it is… the tiny bathtub, the tiny accessories, or the tiny human I am required to clean… but I am terrified of bathtime. Am I using too much soap? Did I rinse all the soap off? Is the water too warm? Too cold? Am I scrubbing too hard? Did I clean out all of his rolls and creases? Does that look like a rash? How did my baby get a freckle? All of this running through my mind, with the constant fear that his is going to freeze when the air hit him… or slip under the water in his tiny little tub. 

No need to call CPS or anything. Munchie isn’t dirty… he is perfectly clean. Thankfully, we have plenty of family who love baby bathtime and come over to help (or help in their own homes) on a regular basis. Daddy is good at Munchie showers, too. I don’t know how they can do it. I guess I just feel safer when my child is fully clothed and a little more… grippy and not so… slippy.

So that’s my confession. Once Munchie can sit up on his own, I don’t think I will worry so much… but for now… I’m a hot mess when it comes to bathtime. If you are in the same boat, I suggest finding a relative, friend, neighbor, responsible looking stranger, etc to help you out. 

One thing I fear more than bathtime? Neck cheese. (Definition: The crusty dried milk that gets trapped in baby neck rolls.)


I Got 99 Problems, But a Bink Ain’t One


It seems like every medical expert will agree… you need to put your baby in their own bassinet, crib, or container of choice… on their back. Swaddle them up, put them in a sleep sack, no pillows, blankets, toys, or anything cozy or fun. Well, Mr Medical Expert… I have some news for you. When I get to my own house… and my child is screaming… and you aren’t there to help… I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby to fall asleep. If you have a problem with this, you are by all means welcome to come to my home and stay awake with a screaming baby. I will just pop in some ear plugs and nod off while you “work your magic.”

Let’s be real. No one follows all of the rules laid out by medical professionals 100% of the time. (Heck… half the time, the professionals can’t even agree on the “correct” way to do things.) As (new) parents, we just have to wing it. What works for one kid won’t necessarily work for the next. You know how my baby naps? Usually, however he passes out. Tummy time (as previously mentioned) always results in Munchie face planting and falling asleep. I, like any responsible parent, check to make sure he is breathing and then just leave him alone. I’m not going to risk a little peace and quiet by moving the sleeping baby. I might be a little crazy… but I’m not a freaking lunatic!

Since Munchie has colic (and Mommy diagnosed reflux), he doesn’t like sleeping flat on his back. (Such sleeping position also results in baby vomit… everywhere.) So… he sleeps in his Monkey Rocker. We swaddle him up, stick him in, and add a cozy blanket. Every morning, he wakes up around 6am and refuses to go back to sleep… UNLESS I plop him face down on my chest. I tuck the covers in really tight on either side of me, so he can’t fall off the bed, and we can sleep like this for another 2-3 hours. Doctor approved? No. Mommy and Daddy approved? Yes.

I can’t function if I don’t get sleep. Without rest, I’m a useless mom, wife, and human being. I have to do whatever it takes to get sleep sometimes. I’m not the first, or last, mom who will feel this way… or not directly follow medical advice. Keep in mind… if you want to judge me for the way I let Munchie sleep… you are more than welcome to come and take the night shift in our home!

So… I’m curious moms… what kind of medical rules did you bend to maintain your own sanity?

All the Ladies Love Me


Being this adorable makes it super easy for Mommy and Daddy to find helping hands. Each week, four young girls descend on our home and take on the role of “Mother’s Helpers.” Ranging in age from 8-11, these girls are crazy about Alex and they love to help me out. If you haven’t discovered the world of Mother’s Helpers… I suggest doing so immediately. Each week, I create a list of things that need to be done. Everything from folding baby clothes, to fetching diapers and wipes from the nursery, and walking the dog, to refilling the dog food container. (One week, the bag of dog food got dropped… dog food everywhere… and the girls picked up every last piece!)

In the beginning, I thought 5 minors in my home would be a completely overwhelming experience. I thought I must be losing my mind to agree to such chaos. Boy, oh boy, was I wrong. Some of the best hours of my week are when these delightful girls come to visit. We set a timer and Munchie is passed from girl to girl, until it is time for them to leave. For me, the benefit is obvious… help around the house and help with Munchie. For them, the benefit is excellent training for future babysitting gigs… not to mention a fantastic reference from the ever awesome ME!

Sure, I still have to change diapers and do the dirty work… but I think I can handle that! To my four lovely ladies… thank you. To their nanny who first had the idea to bring them all over and help out… you are freaking amazing!

Moral of the story: Find yourself a Mother’s Helper or two… or four. You will be SO happy you did!!!

Survived Our First Play Date


One month on the outside and already dating. That’s how we roll in this house! Patrick was quite perplexed when I told him Alex and I were going to a play date. “Babies can’t even play. They just sit there.” Alright, in his defense, our kid does just sit there… well really, he just sort of lays there. Whatever. He needs to socialize. More importantly, at this point, I need to socialize.

Since we are among the only parents in our immediate group of friends, going to a play date requires meeting new people. Typically, I would Facebook stalk the crap out of people who were planning to attend. Especially now that Munchie is in the picture. But, let’s be honest… the amount of time it takes to sufficiently run your own background check via Facebook, and other social media outlets, far exceeds the amount of “free” time any new parent has on their hands. I was fortunate enough to have a friend invite me to our first play date… so I knew the rest of the moms and babies would be of good “quality.” No background checks required.

So, we roll up to our play date. Once baby is drooling everywhere (teething) and the other is passed out in the middle of the room. Before long, we add Alex to the mix, chugging his bottle. Soon, a fourth baby (older than the rest) arrives. He is slightly more mobile than the rest, flopping around a bit on the floor. Alex lets out a massive burp and pukes all over me. Another baby pooped their pants… and all of the babies peed their pants at one point. A couple of the babies start yelling at each other and one starts crying. Inside, I chuckle to myself. I feel like I’m at a miniature frat party. This just further justifies my belief that babies act like tiny drunk people. Apparently, college did prepare me for the future… parenthood.

I was able to mingle with some other moms, swap some stories, helpful parenting tips (from this decade), share our pains, and gain some hope. These babies will keep growing, sleep longer, and eat less often! I enjoyed our play date. (Nice to meet you ladies!)

Munchie, on the other hand, isn’t very good at making socially acceptable decisions that make the other babies want to be his friend. He spent the better part of our play date screaming and eating… until he passed out during tummy time, face planted on the floor, using his binkie as a kickstand so he could breathe. (My baby’s got mad skillz.)

I am hoping his lack of social skills don’t get us excluded from future play dates. After all, I can’t be the only Mom who Facebook stalks and screens our potential playmates via the interwebs.

Note to future playmates: We promise to pack a few extra positive attitudes in our diaper bag next time!