I just got checked by the universe.............

Picture this: a hot, young mom, pulls out of her driveway with her infant son in the back & her long blonde hair blows in the wind. This would be me...only reader beware - before you start the envy, make the following edits:
Place the word 'mess' after 'hot.' 
Assume 'young' means my child is young and I am still very much learning. 
Replace the word 'pulls,' with 'squeals.' 
Sneak 'unbrushed' between words 'long' & 'blonde. ' 
Understand that my hair was only blowing in the wind because my windows were down in an attempt to drown out the stench of my son's freshly loaded diaper....
I mean you're catching what I'm throwing here right? Glamorous doesn't begin to cover how picturesque my life is. Ha. 

It's true, I am squealing out of the driveway because it's 10:21 & my son's 9 month check up has been rescheduled for today at 10:30, because I missed yesterday's appointment because with all that is this life, I forgot - and - NOT TODAY! Not again, at least. He is upset because, well diaper, and he's screaming which is only adding to the chaos. I'm driving down the street like a bat of hell when we get to a green arrow (my favorite traffic signal EVER) and of the 2 cars in front of me, one is waiting for her top coat to dry & the other is eating a 4 course breakfast...or something - but whatever it is, THEY AREN'T DRIVING! Don't these bitches know we have somewhere to be?! So I honk and wave and say, "Let's go people! The light is green!!" We are all driving up the street now and I've decided I hope they see I'm headed en route to the Dr.'s so they feel badly they made me wait...no really. I'm actually having these thoughts. It's kind of ridiculous, but in the spirit of authenticity - there ya go...

We manage to get to the Dr.'s office all in one piece. The baby is sucking his thumb & has calmed in the backseat. I've managed to get here on time (& how did I manage that?!) & find close parking. I grab the monkey man (baby), our luggage (or so it would seem) and trek to the front door of the building. A tall, fatherly figure, whom I would guess to be Haitian, is kindly holding the door for us; I have a baby after all. He says something to someone on the elevator & I realize he is speaking to his son, who mind you, is following in his father's footsteps and holding the elevator door open for a teeny old lady who is moving slowly as she pushes a walker, he is asking his son to continue to hold the elevator for me and dad says to son, "Please hold for the mother & baby..." We all load up. My son is taking it all in, smiling at everyone on the elevator & I am catching my breath...
And [finally] climbing out of my head space to observe my surroundings. 

The man's son is about 15 years old. He's a full grown boy, somewhere between 5'10 & 6 ft tall I would presume. He has a brace supporting his entire torso. It starts at his hips and works its way up on either side of his rib cage. It hugs either side of his chest & back. Eventually the brace sprawls its way around the boys neck so that his head is completely stationary. His right arm is fully extended, and this brace, this piece of equipment that appears to be holding the boy's body together, extends all the way to the very tip of his middle finger, with joints & webbing spanning across his hand, wrist, elbow, shoulder and back to his torso. Its made of many pieces of metal & plastic & foam. The boy couldn't possibly be comfortable but he stands so I can see his profile, and he's smirking at my son, in an attempt to keep him smiling. Four of the five of us were getting out on the 2nd floor, pediatrics. The father & his son exit the elevator with my son & me. The father lingers for a moment & asks the elderly woman if she's sure she's got it from there, ensuring her he'd be happy to help her get to her destination. She is gracious but insists she will be fine & makes a broad statement to have a good day, raising a shaky hand to wave goodbye to the infant on board. 

The father and son entered the first office off the elevator which is a nationally recognized burn center. I am observing only what I've seen thus far and from one parent to the next, I look at the father and offer an encouraging smile telling him my heart is with him. I gently whispered to him, "poor thing," only to offer empathy and a hint of understanding. Understanding that if that were my son, I too would be instilling good manners but that I get what it's like to love a child...I actually get that. And for that pain & that kind of love, I'm sorry. The son turns to look at me for the first time, and I see that half of this beauty's face is severely burned, as his neck, and from the small amount of skin showing at the end of his brace, his hand. I can't tell you what has happened to this teenager but I can tell you it will be, and has already, been a long road to recovery. 

From entering the building to arriving on the 2nd floor, the whole thing couldn't have taken longer than 20 seconds. But it was 20 seconds, this spaz of a woman, this rushed mom with a false sense of high importance, REALLY needed. I quickly realized that none of this other bullshit matters! Tardiness doesn't matter, slow cars don't matter. What's the worst that would have happened if we were late to the Dr.'s appointment? I would have had to reschedule? Maybe if the office was in some sort of special mood, they would have charged me for a visit?? It doesn't matter. What matters is our health. Our safety. Our good manners. Our kind ways. Our love for one another. The fact we are alive and it's all going to be ok. These are the things that matter. I try to live to these philosophies as a rule, but sometimes I forget. I'm hurried or I'm overwhelmed and I stumble. It happens, I'm fallible...hard to believe but it's true! I make mistakes & I don't always know how to correct them. I believe in evolution though, and I believe that for every action there is an equal & opposite reaction & I believe this interaction with this father & son duo; teaming up to offer politeness & kindness wherever they go, was the universe speaking to me from another dimension, reminding me to slow the fuck down. 
Take a deep breath. 
Breathe. 
Calm. 
Be. 
And it will all be, ok. 
Ok? 
Ok...

Be wonderful and your life will follow. 

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,
Emily 

Non-Mom's We Need to Have a Talk...................... (11 Simple Rules to Being Friends with a New Mom)

A while back, when my baby was a mere 3 months old, and I hadn't started working yet, I was a sad case. I was lonely. Somedays I was sad. I was bored. My intelligence was dulling, and I needed people.  I needed my friends, badly...I was flaked on 4 times throughout the course of 1 week (yah how's that for the old ego?).  I'm a relatively easy going person, that being said, I completely understand life happens: exhaustion, work, sadly even death happens. But here's what can't happen: We have plans, I look forward to the plans of breaking out of my mommy monotony & you call me a couple hours - maybe even the morning prior to said plans, and you bail. No. Not okay friend! As a new mom I respectfully request that you don't blow me off  (blah blah blah - unless you've got a really good reason to).  I realize it's not personal, but it still sucks. As a new mom, my life is so different, I have needs and although I'm not able to meet your needs all the time right now, I promise, the day you pop a little one out - girl - I've got your back.

In the mean time, here are a few things you're going to need to know about the rules and expectations us new mom's have when it comes to this friendship

1. IF you make plans with us, know that we are grateful.  I realize I'm not the barrel of fun I used to be. I'm a chaotic mess barely hanging on and mostly look like a train wreck so the fact you've offered your free time to entertain me - is beyond. That and any human interaction aside from what we have with baby daddy, is so so valued. Being able to talk about something other than sleep schedules and poop frequency (it's true - it happens guys), is like a vacation. Making plans though, means you've got to stick with them. If you can't make the date, or there's a chance you will have to cancel -  tell me! I'll force myself to be ok with that but communication is key. I look forward to getting away from baby babble and if you stand me up - you break my heart. I'm already lonely and quite bored - I'm counting on our 2 hour meet up to keep my sanity for the rest of the day; maybe even the rest of my week.

2. Never show up without wine or coffee. Because you're such a good friend you're going to ask me if there's anything I need & because I don't want to impose or maybe because I can't think that far in advance, inevitably I will tell you no - just bring your diaper free self....but let's be real. I am tired. I am cranky. I am thirsty. I look forward to wine o'clock and if it's too early (but really what is too early anyway?) I rely on coffee to get me through the day, sue me.

3. Bring us your drama. Please. I don't get out much. I know the cracks on my ceiling, the number of tiles in my bathroom, and the number of spit up towels NOT on hand when I need them. Sure my baby is adorable and exciting but I don't want to talk about the baby. I don't want to talk baby talk. I want to talk about you. I want to hear about your dates, where you ate last night, and your take on what rap sounds like this week.

4. Encourage us! If I am going back to work, or scared or if I have the next big idea and I'm sharing it with you - tell me to go for it! Encourage me! Short of introducing nap time, I haven't had a good idea in months. I want to know I've still got it - that I count. That maybe one day I can contribute to society again. 

5. Tell us we're doing a great job as a mom. That's it - that's all. If you think (even for a split second) that I'm doing a good job, please tell me because I'm questioning EVERY MOVE I MAKE.

6. If we bitch about something - listen. Hear me. It could be my husband, it could be about the baby, it could be about sore boobs. Just be there, hold my hand, and prop your shoulder up right under my head. I need you.

7. You want to hold the baby? Hold him! I hold him all day er'y day - you can't hog him. I will let you hold him as long as you want. Hold on friend. Hold on.
     7 a.) I won't ask for him back so when you're tired of holding him - just give him back. Let's not force me to do the obligatory, "do you want me to take him?" 

8. Do NOT under ANY circumstances - NEVER NEVER EVER EVER offer your negative or questioning opinion on anything parenting we are doing; unless I happen to ask - which I won't, so just don't. Because if you do, I promise you will unleash the beast. Every thing I do, every decision I have made has been well thought out - researched more than anything can be researched, and I am making the best decision I can for my baby, for my family, for myself, and I certainly don't need your input. 

...Oh you had a friend that did what and it worked? Oh???? 

...yeah I don't care. Not one bit, and now you've irritated me. 

As nice you think I am, here's what I'm doing behind my smile and bright eyes while you ramble, "...and how many children have you had? None? Oh yeah? That's cool and your opinion means jack diddley shit to me. So can you please just STFU?" 

9. Don't talk shit about another mom and expect us to agree with you. If there's one thing I've learned through this whole child rearing process (so far), it's that every body tries really hard to do the right thing. You just don't know until you know. So if you're going to come over here and tell me your thoughts on how so and so parents/disciplines/gives in, you best believe she has me on her side. This parenting business is really really beyond the hardest thing you can imagine. Unless someone is really dismantling their child's future by truly being shitty, you're not getting my vote. 

10. This is somewhat of a reprise of request #1 but IF you wanna hang - you've got to stick to the schedule. You see, I know you think I'm just wandering around the house waiting for you to show up and entertain me (dance monkey dance!) but the truth is I am running around trying to coordinate his naps, his feedings, his hygiene, his entrainment, my hygiene, maybe even a snack for myself, and I don't have time for you to be running an hour late or show an hour early! I may have been spontaneous once upon a long time ago, but now everything in my day is meticulously thought out and planned for. You showing up when you please doesn't suit me, and it definitely doesn't suit the baby. Please, when we make plans for noon, be here at noon, not 11:30, not 1:15. 

11. Please remember this: We had a baby, we are not dead. For awhile, possibly a few years, I'll be scarce or maybe even absent; but I'm still here.  I'm still me. Just me with a bed time. Me who actually chooses to put someone else's needs above my own, and I love it. If you choose to stick by me during this most transitional time in my life, it will never be forgotten. They say if you want to know who your true friends are, have a baby. You see, above all other plans of fancy vacations, and Louboutins, raises,  freedom and mystery - I knew I wanted a baby. Ever since I was playing with those cabbage patch kids hoping so badly they would come to life, I knew I wanted this, and I have worked to create a life that would bring it to me. Either support me or don't but don't lead me on. I will be back.

The bottom line is you don't get it. I know it because it wasn't until I was elbows deep in spit up, poop, pee, and unable to hear my inner thoughts of doubt through his screams of new born despair, and all I wanted to do was hold him and not run away. I don't expect you to get it. I swear it. All I ask is that if you are going to be my friend, commit, and be it. Don't judge me. Don't blow me off. Love me. Support me. Be a friend.

Thank you for listening. We need you now more than we ever have.

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,
Me, a new mom - on behalf of other new moms, 
Emily

me drunk on a cruise ship in Greece BB
(before baby)

shaving and exfoliating like what?

This post is dedicated to the glamazeutiful shower I took this morning...lavender sugar salt scrub and all!

This weekend on What Are We Toasting To? (just a random new name for this blog I came up with...do we like it? Is it totally lame? Should I just stick with what I've got??  Let me know in the comments section kthanksssss....) we're talking about when life hands you lemons and you make lemonade and not necessarily because the lemonade is that much better; but because it's more of like - a necessary for your sanity, er - um tastebuds - and you've come to appreciate even the sourness the lemon offers to begin with because well theoretically the lemon is life...sweet bullshit additives such as sugar are not life. Sweet, bullshit, additives like sugar to the lemons of life, are a cover up, they're lipstick, a mockery of the lemon to begin with. Ok - I need less caffeine at night - I digress. And I love lipstick.  Lemons & lemonade and what happens when baby doesn't sleep, and how that can be lemony - which isn't necessarily bad - and how since my son has been born even though it's a helluva an adjustment, I have learned to appreciate so much more than I ever did before - is what's on topic for this here blog post (and I'm taking a breath you should too - that was a lot, and more is coming!).

I love the fact that at 3 months old, my precious bundle, Oliver, is an excellent sleeper - it's like - so so glorious....except for when he's not and it's like - so un-glorious. 
Like everything in this new world of parenting, when it comes to sleep, we have good days and we have bad days. Good days consist of several naps of appropriate length and an easy peasy goodnight lay down session in which he sleeps from around 8:30 pm to 7 am (hallelujah!). But guess what? In order for me to mucho appreciate the good nap days there's just got to be - (cue dramatic music....) DOM DOM DOM (!) -  a  shitty nap day. A shitty nap day means no naps, which equates to lots of fussiness & temporary bouts of smiles which ultimately mean just when I get into his fest of giggles - he erupts into a festival of cries (like out of nowhere - how do they do that?! Like us women, I tell ya...happy one sec and *boom* say/do the wrong thing - pissed the next.) 

Being the active type that I am - before baby, I was nothing if I wasn't doing 30 things in my day. This is no longer the case...and that is because, well - baby. You see when he isn't a happy baby (see shitty nap day), I'm not a happy mom and in order to get by I must consent to let go of whatever plans I thought I had and just let life happen the way it's meant to, sugary-additive free. 

Also Known As: OLIVER RULES (his way or the highway mmmm?)

It's just easier. Easier on him, cause that's how he expects it - and easier on me because I'm not fighting the inevitable. Accepting what is. Coming to this understanding and agreement with myself has made life a lot more simple, let me tell you. Besides, aside from this understanding, I also know that wherever a shitty sleep day lies, an exceptional sleep day follows. And that my friends is something to look forward to. 

~~~~~

T'was Saturday, and the child hadn't slept a wink. He couldn't! There was too much excitement going on in the outside world. His mind wouldn't shut off. Fret not though, I did, as I knew that Sunday, a day of exceptional sleep, lie ahead! And not just a day of exceptional sleep but a day when dad was home. Jimmi could be near should anything go wrong in dreamland and that meant I was free to shower and I will take that sir thankyouverymuch! I remember the feeling I got as I saw what lie in my future. A little slice of paradise was beckoning me from the bathroom. I could almost see the shower and all of the shower accessories - loofahs, smelly soaps, scrubs, and razors, yes even razors - glistening from the nursery as I lay him down for his second nap of the day. I could nearly hear the reflective ding that comes off of crystal champagne glasses when you clink 2 together, as I imagined all of the luxuriousness I was about to embark upon. This was not going to be any 3 minute hose down, oh no - this was going to be a shower MADE FOR A WOMAN. A 15 minute vacation submerging me into a steamy, hair free & smooth abyss of Japanese Cherry Blossom (yes I still use that - does that make me 12? Oh well #simplepleasures) awaited me. And I ceased every. Single. Moment. 


This brings me back to lemons and why it's important to embrace lemons as they are. There is a silver lining, free of sugary additives everywhere - or there can be - if you look for it. As I've said before, I am not one to shy away from celebrations, even if I have to create them. And so I didn't. To all you mommy's or severely time starved people out there: Shower on my friends, shower on.

words: me. melody and likeness:Raffy
(thank you Baby Einstein...)

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,
Emily  

When Getting Cat Called is a Good Thing

I did it guys. It started out as a walk. And then when I put on my running shoes instead of flip flops or chucks, it morphed into a run. Well it was more of a walk 100 steps run 100 steps walk-run sort of thing, but I left the house and before I knew it I was sweating. It wasn't easy. But to keep it real - I was having some mommy blues. Blues founded on thoughts like, "What happened to the life I once knew? Oh right. There it is - in that gorgeous bundle of blue joy staring back at me in the stroller...." He is worth every moment of pain, confusion and adjustment to this new life. Sadness founded on having the thoughts to begin with. 
But you know what cures sadness? Endorphins. You know how to get those suckers to appear? Simply getting outside is a good start!! Running is an even better one. 

I'm into self help - and so I did. And you know what else?  

I felt large and in charge. 

Not necessarily because of my expanded waist line (thank you again baby!) but mostly because of the, albeit under inflated, soccer ball sized boobs I now have. I mean huge is an understatement. These puppies make Oliver the envy of  tiny town. His food supply is never ending and my boobs are showing their work hourly. My sports bra (cause I'm queen of athleticism) could be a hat for a large set of Siamese twins. Aside from the girls, my leggings which I refuse to upgrade - and I do mean UPgrade - for my postpartum body, are at the point in their journey where they stretch so plump over my tight ass - er um make that - stretch so tight over my plump ass that one doesn't have to try very hard to guess the color of polk a dots on my granny panties. Then there's my feet - oy vey my feet. I started off the cutest little size 6  and well, my running shoes reminded me this is no longer the case. Never mind the blisters I scored, but the whole time I'm running (100 steps at a time people!) I'm terrified my big toes are going to simultaneously pop out the top of my shoes!  

So there I am run-walking along with my 9 year old puggle and my beautiful 11 week old baby boy who has just learned the fun of his tongue, and it's really the cutest thing. The endorphins are flowing and truthfully I could not care less what I look like. I'm happy. Really happy. I'm slowing my pace to catch my breath when someone drives by and cat calls me. Friggin CAT CALLS ME. Like what are we in, high school? 
And I'm like "...high school...fuck yeah self. Fuck. Yeah." Ha! 
And you know what??
I'll take it.  
I WILL TAKE THAT! 

Just when you think you haven't got it anymore......

I realized a few things: a.) I have got it.  b) "It" is happiness. It's a life. A husband. A son. Breath. Thighs AND soccer ball boobs. And I've got it. High five. 

Haha I say most of this tongue and cheek cause honestly if we can't laugh (especially at ourselves) what have we really got anyway? I know I'll get my body back - and if I don't I don't. It's certainly a testament to how hard I worked for the biggest payout if my life: my Oliver.  I'm happy I've got a man who loves me through thick and thin. And even happier that I refused to sign that prenup! Muahahahaaa

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,
Em

HOLY $h!t - I'm pregnant (?!)

Ok so as week 19 strikes today...this is hardly news. But the further I get on this journey of growing the gender-uknown-being formerly known as "Poppyseed" who is currently referred to as "Henry" - the harder it is to believe that my husband and I are about to be parents....and the more I realize how UNPREPARED I AM FOR THIS CHILD!!! I believe I say this with delicate excitement - but you know, I'm still pretty terrifyingly ecstatic in all the right ways.

My husband is currently google searching which stroller is ideal, but aside from that we've done nothing to prep for this baby and I have a million questions/thoughts/concerns running through the very back of my brain (and they're getting closer) every day.
I can think of 5 things I need for the baby:
1.) A place to sleep: Crib
2.) A place to eat: Highchair
3.) A way to get around: Stroller - or a car - just pat him on the back and wish him luck?
4.) A way to transport: Carseat
5.) A way to bathe: Bath
Other than that - I AM CLUELESS!
What will the baby look like?
How scary is labor? I mean millions of human moms and animals do it every day so can it REALLY be that bad?
Will I still be able to work out?
Is it weird I think it's cool to eat the placenta? I mean in a capsule form of course! But that's a thing right?
How soon until the baby isn't a blob?
Can I take the baby to work out with me?
Do I get separate strollers for jogging vs errands?
Are we expected to cook meals when we have a baby or does a meal fairy show up with grocery's and a chef?
If I am supposed to meal prep - is it acceptable to have the baby strapped to me in some fashion while I do so? If so where can I find a flame retardant shield to place the baby in?
Will I ever sleep again?
A bear that mimics the sound of the womb?! Who thinks of these things? And where the hell do I get one?
What else don't I know?

...I receive 4,000 emails a day from Baby Center and the Nest and parenting.com and the What to Expect app and Babies r Us and - how the hell do these people know who I am?! What list am I supposed to trust? Are these websites sponsored?
Don't even get me started on how and when to feed the thing!
Primary colors stimulate a baby's brain more than pastels? Then why is every toy and blanket at target in pastels? Has target really made it this far not knowing this simple fact?
Now I hear baby socks can be dangerous - so do I not put socks on my baby's feet?
Will I really go days without bathing?
How will I ever work again?
Or sleep?
Or poop?
Or do yoga?!
I mean it's like the whole world prepares you for the worst of the worst while telling you its the greatest joy you'll ever experience. WTF does that even mean? It's a perfect oxy moron...And everyone who shares it with you says it with such confidence, and a smirk. A confidence that a year from now will probably make a whole lot more sense to me than it does today. I'm just hoping it's one of those prepare you for the worst things so you're pleasantly surprised when it's actually a walk in the park.
It's just been the 2 of us plus the puggle for 10 years - how the F am I supposed to incorporate another human?
Will I curb my sailor mouth tendencies?
Will I be a progressive mom who say's fuck it, 'bad words are for grown-up's not for babies - learn your role little one?' I mean SERIOUSLY?!
Or will I do the old bait and switch and start driving like a little old church lady who doesn't swear much less let her kid eat dirt? I can't bear the thought of not being me any more...

A lot of this I say with a smiling heart, and mild paranoia mixed with a ton of anticipatory excitement; but mostly I just realize that we are about to enter this world so completely unknown and I want to do it as right as I can.
So many unknowns but here is what I do know:
I know I already love this baby
I know that my husband and I are going to be bad ass parents one way or another
The nursery will get completed and I will get through labor
I will love this little poppyseed/henry/tiny human so much it hurts my heart and I cannot wait. I'm so "terrified" (see excited) we have been taking photos of my and babies growth since we found out of it's existence on October 5th.
You know what? Forget the unknown and the terrifying. I'm excited & the proof is in the pudding - i.e. the smiles seen below and the flutter my heart feels every time I talk about the baby.
We're going to do great.
Here's to living in the moment.

...and her life was Simply wonderful

All my very best,
Emily

October 5th at 5 weeks 4 days 

January 5th at 18 weeks 5 days