Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

So I'm the oldest, most living-in-a-box person around because this conversation just happened.

1st co-worker, talking to another co-worker: "I just saw the new Star Wars."
2nd co-worker: "Don't tell me anything! I'm going to see it this weekend!"
Me: "Which Star Wars is this? It's all I've been hearing about for weeks."
2nd co-worker: "This is the trilogy of the trilogy."
Me, staring blankly.
1st co-worker: "This is 7 of 7,8,9."
Me: "What? Ok, so all I've seen are the ones from the 70s. With Luke Skywalker and Chewbacca."
2nd co-worker: "Yeah, those were 4,5,6."
Me: "What? I thought those were the first ones!"
1st co-worker: "They are."
Me: "So how are they 4,5,6?"
2nd co-worker, laughing: "Because then they made the prequel to those several years ago, so those became 1,2,3. But those aren't worth seeing."
Me: "Oh! Wait, is that the one with Bar Bar Jinx?"
2nd co-worker, laughing harder: "Jar Jar Binks, yeah."
Me: "Oh man, how old do I sound right now?"
2nd co-worker: "Super old."
Me: "So what is the one he just saw?"
1st co-worker: "I just saw 7, which is the one after the third one that you saw."
Me: "There's a lot of word-problem math stuff going on in this conversation. Also, hasn't this movie been out for, like, a week? Why is it such a big deal that you went last night?"
1st co-worker: "The LA premiere was last week, but it opened nation-wide last night."
Me: "Wow. It's shocking how little I know about this."
2nd co-worker: "We agree."

Anyway.

***

Nobody in my family reads anymore. Just kidding! We all read but then we all depend on my dad to blog because we keep forgetting. MAYBE over the Christmas break one of us will get one or two in? Until then, click here and browse around for some good reading inspiration!

***

It hasn't felt very Christmas-y this year, which I'm going to go ahead and blame on the awful, warm weather. CB disagrees that it's "awful" when it's 60 or 70 degrees in December in the northeast, but I think it's just plain wrong. I want snow, dammit! I wait all year for this!

However, I've been trying to get myself into the holiday spirit by listening to Christmas tunes. Which lead me to start making a list in my head of the best Christmas tunes ever.

Best:

"Bells bells bells bells!" (is what I call it. Apparently it's called "Carol of the Bells.")
"Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire (The Christmas Song)"
"Little Drummer Boy"
"All I Want For Christmas (Is You)"
"Holly Jolly Christmas"

Honorable mentions go to:

"Hark the Herald Angels Sing"
"Deck the Halls"
"Jingle Bell Rock"
"The Most Wonderful Time of the Year"

Oh hell, I like them all. I can't help it!

Now I'm in the spirit! Thanks, lists!

Just Call Me Ebenezer

It’s possible that I’m writing this while listening to the New Kids on the Block Christmas channel on Pandora. Don’t judge and try not to dance during “Funky Funky Christmas.” Can’t happen (yes it can, according to CB, but he lies).

Anyway, I’m about to be the Grinch, you guys, hunker down, there’s some Scrooge’ing going on in my brain and I can’t stop it. Nor do I really want to? Because I’m totally right and my judgment is warranted, is what I tell myself while trying to be merry.

Ok, so I’m a fan of animals. Dogs, cats, adorable bunnies – I’m good with all of them. I had a beloved cat for 13 years as and we had a dog and cats growing up. However, we’ve gone ‘round the bend and need to stop. It’s madness, you guys.

You see, I was at the gym today, listening to a conversation between two women discussing their upcoming holiday travel plans. It started out normal enough until one of the women began talking about what a pain it’s turning out to be to take her dog on holiday with them.

First, I object to this on principle: unless you’re moving and/or impaired in some way and require the assistance of a canine, don’t bring your dog on vacation. Nobody wants your dog on the plane, I promise. Listen, nobody wants my baby on the plane and she’s incredibly cute, wears festive hats, and has dimples. Also, nobody at your final destination wants your dog there, either. I promise. However, my overall objection to this is because the woman proved herself to be an insane person and I was disturbed that the other woman continued to discuss this with her as if it was at all normal. To the point that I started making counter-arguments in my head at her even though she wasn’t talking to me and also maybe I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping?

Whatever. The following things actually came out of the dog-owners mouth and I full-on stared at her while they did. I didn’t even try to hide the fact that I was judging her with my eyes and aggressively arguing with her in my brain.

She said….

·         I want her (the dog) with me because I don’t have as much fun if she’s not there. I feel like she will miss me.

Counter-point:

·         She’ll be fine. You won’t, but that’s beyond your dog’s problem.

She said….

·         She could stay with my brother, who lives on a few acres of land and they have two dogs themselves. But they just let their dogs outside to run around and my dog needs to be walked on a leash or she won’t go to the bathroom. She’s an indoor dog.

Counter-point:

·         OH MY GOD. There’s no such thing as an indoor dog. Good grief I dislike this lady a ton. She’s describing a somewhat awful experience of dragging her “indoor dog” onto a plane full of no other dogs so that she can have her in a hotel room at her final destination because the dog will miss her otherwise. OR, the dog could play with other dogs and run around like dogs love doing because GENETICS and not be put on a leash by her insane owner?

She said….

·         The only problem is that I’m starting to think that I shouldn’t spend $7500 and all of this time to have my dog on vacation with me.

Counter-point:

·         You shouldn’t. You’re just starting to think that? The fact that an actual sentence like this came out of your mouth tells me more about you than anything else I’ll ever hear from you ever while eavesdropping in the locker room.  

See? I’m totally Scrooge-y! Why am I so mean? These are ACTUAL thoughts I had while she was complaining about her dog struggles! It’s almost Christmas and I was all like “you are a ridiculous person.” What happened to having a charitable heart? My heart isn’t even in the same room with everyone else’s charitable ones! Oh no, you guys!

Friday Wrapup

Forget the wrapup:

YOU GUYS. The world is now complete. COMPLETE! I'm yelling for a reason, you'll all understand in ONE MINUTE.

Remember this post from September? Of course you do, I know it's been weighing on your minds. This morning I FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT.

I was looking for a different Video of the Week, and this song was halfway down and I was like "Oh my God that's the song I hate so so much!"

YOU GUYS.

So of course I immediately texted CB:

Yes, I realize I said "fee" instead of "feel." I was too excited to type properly!  

I will say, though, that one particular reader (Olga, I'm looking at you!) did follow-up with me several times, both via text and in person, as she'd hear awful songs and wonder if maybe that was the particular awful song I had in mind. So I want to give her a special shout-out because she tried totally harder than my own husband who was like "you hate a lot of music, I can't keep track." 

True.

To be fair, perhaps I threw him and everyone else off by being completely out of the loop. See, I thought it was "current." Turns out this song came out in 2011? Could that be? I legit live in a box of protection from horrible songs, apparently. I mean, you're talking to the girl who married the guy who thought that there was a boy band called "The Ramos Brothers." Our poor kid already has so much ammo for being completely embarrassed to be seen with us by the age of 3. 

But for some reason, YouTube refuses to let me embed the video here, so click here to watch it and TRY to get this terrible, awful song out of your head. TRY! Then complain about it a ton to your loved ones, then ask them to remember it three months from now, then LOSE YOUR MIND when they're like "What? Nope, don't remember." (I love you CB. I know I'm the worst, I know.)

Enjoy(youwon'tenjoy). 

I May Be Living in a Black Hole

Ok, so it's been a weird week, you guys. First, I got an alert from our bank the other day that my debit card number had been used in a totally different part of the country at a superstore - which bummed me out for two reasons: (1) someone stole and that's the worst and (2) they were in a fun part of the country that I totally want to visit! The good news is that our bank is awesome and reimbursed us so really, no harm, no foul. Except how about we all just agree that stealing is wrong and we'll stop doing it?

Then randomly the next night, I woke up with a crazy high fever and spent the next 12 hours fighting spikes in my insane body temperature. However, perhaps it should worry all of us that I'm a parent in charge of knowing stuff because, as it turns out, I had the fever earlier that evening when CB and I were watching tv on the couch. But instead of accurately reading my body's signs, I was like "Wow, I must've worked out extra hard today because my entire body hurts! Like, uncomfortably aches!" And I was really proud of myself and rewarded that behavior with leftover birthday cake. As you do when you're a grownup. 

And then this morning I found myself in a very minor car accident - I say "very minor" because (a) it wasn't my car and (b) nobody was injured. But it was probably less minor for the people who had to deal with insurance and headaches and telling their boss that they crashed the company car. 

However, speaking of reading the situation wrong, I decided to still go to work because, you know, this week is trying to subtly tell me that it'd be awesome and nobody at work would yell at me! But this week was wrong. And so now I'm pretty sure I should just sit really still and not talk to/do anything until Sunday because the week needs some time away from me so it can cool off and we can both think about how we feel about everything that's happened and rebuild. 

To be totally honest, though, I keep feeling like I should thank the week because all of this stuff really is minor and I'm grateful that these are my "problems." And then CB is like "It's ok to be annoyed with this week" but my theory about magical thinking keeps me from putting those vibes out into the universe because YOU NEVER KNOW, you guys.

Also, sometimes these are the conversations that make CB wonder how someone hadn't already totally fallen in love with me and taken me off the hot market by the time he came around. It's called luck, CB. You're welcome. 

Oh, and if you just can't get enough of what I have to say today (#everyone), head on over to my latest article on Romper! Apparently when people pay me to write I get super-serious! 

To put us all in a better mood, let's revisit the magic that is being a kid and check out this little guy being TOTALLY BLOWN AWAY by automatic doors. 

Happy Thursday! 

Reinventing the Wedding

So this weekend I went to a wedding and it was everything a wedding should be – beautiful and elegant with delicious food, great music, and lots of laughs. However, I had an ingenious idea about halfway through the night that I immediately shared with CB and he was like “Nobody would want to do that. People love dressing up.” To which I yelled “Lies!” while running down the hall carrying my sparkly high-heeled shoes like an over-tired Cinderella.

Anyway.

MOVE OVER Snuggies and Pajama Jeans, there’s a new, cozy Sheriff in town. And her name is Pajama Weddings.

Right??? Let’s Trademark this immediately. I mean, first of all, CB is totally wrong – people only love dressing up for a photo or two and then they’re all like “Ugh, I wish this dress had an elastic waist so I could enjoy this mac n’ cheese bar more.” Plus, I don’t care how fancy you are, after a few hours of eating and drinking a bunch, you pretty much don’t care if you look slammin’ (are the kids still/have they ever said that?). You know what you want to do? Put on your pj’s, dance to a little Beyonce, and celebrate love in comfort.

Think about it – instead of writing “Black Tie Optional” (which always gives me anxiety), you can write “Footie PJ’s Optional.” That way, people who don’t own adult-sized footed pajamas won’t feel out of place, since it was only an option. But if you go full-on footie, you’re right at home. Also, you can really make this a niche market, all fashion designers. Gone are the days of the yoga pants and hoodie (a staple in my household because CB is the luckiest man ever) - now you can get super into finding just the right pj’s for the event. Evening wedding? Maybe a little silk is in your pj future. Summer wedding? A cute pj tank and matching shorts say you’re a girl in the know!

Plus, slippers. BOOM. Mind blown, I’m a genius.

Who's with me. Also, someone get married and do this, I totally already blew it!

Happy Monday! 

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

First of all, thank you for your support of my other writing endeavors on Romper. We've gotten great feedback so far and that's in huge part due to you guys!

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Second of all, the book this week is "Anya's Ghost" by Vera Brosgol. Any review with the word "whore" in it is one worth reading! (now if that didn't entice you guys, I don't know what will!)

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Third. I went to Vegas last week for work and....wow. First of all, the description by a colleague that it's basically "an x-rated Disney World" was pretty spot on. But also, WHY hasn't anyone ever spoken about the fact that you have to walk approximately five miles to get out of or into any one of the hotels and that you will gain approximately 8 pounds in three days because the food is delicious. WHY?

Also, even though I was there for work, two friends joined me so they could lay by the pool while I worked and then hang with me while we ate food and went to bed by 9pm. It did come up at one point - as we were snuggling into our beds in pjs while we could hear our hotel neighbors getting ready to go out - that perhaps we were "doing Vegas wrong." But we were too sleepy and full to finish that thought, and so we continued to do Vegas wrong the entire time. Especially because we couldn't convince Mary to spend $50 to see Boyz II Men. They were playing at the Mirage Hotel - right next door to our hotel - and Gwen and I were on board.

Me: "So Mary, how do you feel about Boyz II Men?"
Mary: "I feel great about them...in 1992."

And that was pretty much the end of the "so are you interested in maybe going to see them perform tonight, minus the one band member who no longer tours with them because of his scoliosis? No? OK, let's go eat and get into our jammies instead" conversation.

Also, I woke up to this text message today:

Yes, I realize there are a few notable things happening in this text: One, when I text myself, I text "Me!" because that's how I have my number listed in my phone. Of course. Second, last time I texted myself, I'd birthed a baby who was so small that her newborn diaper went up to her armpits. So there's that. Third, at 1:37 am last night I texted myself, simply, "Boyz II Men." Because I woke up and remembered that I wanted to have Boyz II Men be the Video of the Week today. 

Obviously.

You're welcome, everyone from 1992. I miss videos where people slowly chair-dance while seated backwards as they're wearing blazers with shoulder pads, 

Happy Friday!

How Do YOU Shower? I MUST KNOW.

First: my first essay on Romper went live – wanna check it out? Click here!

*** 

Second: Last night, CB and I were watching a movie when, halfway through, there was a shower scene. But not, like, a steamy shower scene that’s NSFW. It was just a woman showering and I was all like “Weird that she’s showering that way.” And CB was like “Um, what way?” and then my mind was blown when I found out that, not only do CB and I shower totally differently, but that maybe the way I shower is kind of weird.

Obviously I immediately paused the movie and was like “Follow me into the bathroom. We’re going to mock-shower.” And he was completely on board because he married me so he knows that this kind of conversation is a regular part of the deal.

I stepped in, turned my back to the shower, and mimicked all of my not-facing-the-water-ever actions. He then stepped into the shower and showed me how he lets the water not only HIT HIS FACE, but that sometimes he just stands there letting the water run over his head and down his body. Like he’s being slowly water-boarded in his own bathroom.

Me: “Oh my God, how do you breathe?”
CB: “Uh, the water doesn’t make me stop breathing.”
Me: “Right, but don’t you have to hold your breath?”
CB: “For what?”
Me: “Because water is hitting your face!”
CB, laughing: “No…it’s not that much water.I'm not submerged.”
Me: “Also, you’d never be able to have your eyes open when you showered!”
CB, still laughing: “Why couldn’t I open my eyes?”
Me: “Because the water is hitting your eyes sometimes!”
CB: “Right but if there’s not soap in there, you can just open your eyes.”
Me: “I cannot open my eyes around water.”
CB: “You are the strangest person I’ve ever met.”
Me: “YOU are the strangest person I’ve ever met! I’m going to have to literally poll everybody I know about this first thing in the morning!”
CB: “I’d expect nothing less.”

And so I started with my family.

I must point out here that my mom isn't gross.
She's just a bath kind of gal. Ok, proceed.

They knew what I meant. 

And then my dad chimed in that he agreed that there's no right or wrong way and it depends on the circumstances. But let's get real: there's a right and wrong way and I'm doing it wrong. 

Except I can't stop! It took me TWICE as long to shower this morning because I was trying it the facing-the-water way and I just kept coughing on water and felt like someone was squiring a hose at my face and wouldn't stop. 

Anyway…I’m taking a poll – facing the shower or away? I MUST KNOW WHAT EVERYONE DOES. Go!

(Happy Monday!) 

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

No books. We're slackers. I'm reading two books right now, but that reading usually happens sometime around midnight-3am when I've gotten up to feed the beh-beh and then can't fall back asleep. It's possible I'm just re-reading the same four pages each night. We shall see.

However, let's pressure CB. He's reading (and enjoying) a book my parents loaned him (that has been blogged about here) and I think we should peer-pressure a review out of him when he's done. That's the sign of a healthy relationship when you group-harass your husband, I'm pretty sure. DO IT.

***

Tomorrow, apparently, my first essay will appear on Romper. I'm a little nervous, if I'm being honest, because it's sort of more vulnerable and serious than I normally am and I'm pretty sure my editor is like "um, we didn't hire you for your non-humor, lady." But still. I'm excited so if you follow this blog on Facebook or Twitter, you'll see me post it when it's up! Unless I re-read it and it sucks, in which case, I will keep it hidden forever.

***

I can't listen to the new Adele song for two and a half reasons: 1, there's this part where it seems like the beat changes and it doesn't make sense to me, and so then it takes me out of the moment and all I can think of next, and for the rest of the song, is 2, LIONEL RICHIE. I'm sorry, but you can't hear the Adele song without thinking of this one. You can't. Unless you can? In which case, you're not me, apparently. And then the half part is because it makes me sad, which I think is the point of Adele in general. But it gets me all sappy-sad and then I just want it to be raining and chilly and I want to be wearing a big, comfy sweater.

Anyway.

Happy Friday!

Conversations from Cohabitation

The other night, I excitedly gave CB our options for tv viewing:

Me: “So, you have two choices tonight for DVR stuff. One, Project Runway, which is Part One of the season finale, so exciting!”
CB: “Ok, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be going with option two.”
Me: “Option two is the Leah Remini special on 20/20 where she talks about Scientology and Tom Cruise.”
CB: “Wow, I was sure that Project Runway was going to be the one I didn’t want to watch.”
Me: “These are two very good options.”
CB: “These are two awful options.”
Me: “So which one?”
CB: “Why would we watch Leah Remini talk about Scientology?”
Me: “Because I love her. And that sounds like some crazy sh*t.”
CB: “I feel like we’ll get dumber regardless of which one we watch.”

So I turned on the Leah Remini special and CB got up from the couch.

 Me: “Where are you going?”
CB: “To get a drink. I’m definitely going to need something to get through this.”
Me: “Be honest – you need a drink here and there to get through our marriage.”
CB: “Not untrue.” 

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Keep an eye out this Saturday for my first essay on Romper!

Friday Wrapup

I know, I know, I'm super late today. I'M SLEEPY. And a little lazy. Let's get to it!

***

No, you guys, I didn't post about the new Mindy Kaling book. I've failed you yet again. Maybe next week? It's 50/50. But click here for some of the most recent posts and get inspired!

***

I don't know why this makes me laugh so hard, but it does.

Also, CB and I love being scared but I do not like being scared when CB isn't around. Which happened last night and I was CONVINCED (again, this may have happened last time he wasn't home one night) that there was someone hiding in my daughter's closet and I stared at it on the monitor for, no kidding, ten minutes. Did the door move slightly? I thinks so, yeah. Didn't I close it over all the way? Why is it ajar? How do I save my daughter from the very patient monster hiding in her closet without alerting said monster? Solution: sleep on the floor of her room and stare at it from closer range.

Anyway. Watching other people be scared (when it's harmless) makes me laugh. Enjoy!

***

Happy Halloween, everyone!

TBT - Carving Pumpkins: An Exercise in Compromise

So we haven't done anything remotely Halloween-y this year because (a) the days are a blur and these damn weekends are flying by too fast! and (b) CB is out of town this weekend and so we didn't get around to carving a pumpkin that he wouldn't even be around to enjoy. Which is a bummer, because we kind of love carving pumpkins each year - and we basically nail it, if I'm being honest.

Also, if we were to do it this year, we would've done this:

This is Mets pitcher Jacob DeGromm. We could've totally
done this. But currently my husband is hanging from a ledge
because they're down two games in the World Series and we got
into a brief argument this morning when I had the news on, they started
talking about the Mets, and I wouldn't "accommodate him" by turning it off
so he didn't have to watch highlights from when they lost. But I digress. 

Anyway, I'm super-excited for Saturday, though, when I'll be putting our daughter in a monkey costume and taking lots of pictures. She doesn't know this is the plan yet, but I'm pretty sure she'll be psyched.

In the meantime, enjoy this throwback post from last Halloween where CB and I demonstrate why we are totally fit to be parents of a person.

***

All I’ve really got to say is that if we end up making kids half as well as we make pumpkins, this world is in for a treat - there was a lot of high-fiving last night over our teamwork. Though it should be noted that I was never in charge of the carving or cleaning out of the pumpkin guts. The non-carving is just good safety and the pumpkin guts thing is less because it feels like you’re ripping out the insides of your own stomach and more because both of our hands wouldn’t fit into the pumpkin and so I didn’t want to slow down the process...is what I told CB.

Also, I was busy monitoring the status of the pumpkin guts bowl balancing on the edge of the table and not saying anything because I didn’t want to be bossy since CB’s hands were elbow-deep in vegetable goo. But all I kept thinking was “the bowl’s gonna fall, the bowl’s gonna fall.” And so then, when the bowl fell, I felt less concerned for our rug and more content that I was right. Which is something I’m working on, I get it.

However, I believe we’ve narrowed in on why, exactly, the bowl fell in the first place. Someone was distracted by a show that he doesn’t care at all about and thinks is too soap oper-y.

Exhibit A.

I will acknowledge, though, the lack of Beyonce anywhere in our apartment for the holiday season and it’s a damn shame. One of you faithful blog readers pointed out via Facebook that, while the pumpkin is delightful, it does not at all resemble Mrs. Carter. But when I broached the subject to CB, he didn’t even let me finish the sentence:

CB: “No.”
Me: “But-“
CB: “Not happening. We’re not carving a Beyonce pumpkin.”
Me: “Well what if next year we get two?”
CB: “That’s fine, but you’re going to have to do all of the carving for your special pumpkin.”

Me, thinking about it.

Me: “Yeah…just one pumpkin is fine. It might be overkill to have her face lit up every night anyway.”

And then a little bit of my soul died for lying straight to my husband’s face. Because Beyonce’s carved image lit up in our apartment every night is basically my dream come true. So I guess this is what they mean when they say marriage is hard work.

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Did you carve your pumpkins yet??

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***
This week's book is The Kingdom of Ice by Hampton Sides. Check it out! Btw, I love seeing that you guys are going directly to the book blog now for your reading inspiration - if you have any suggestions for books we (I) should be reading and posting about, let me know! In the next few weeks I'll post about the new Mindy Kaling book that I read in the middle of the night when I can't fall asleep after feeding my daughter. It might only be half-accurate as my middle-of-the-night brain doesn't always remember actual facts.

***

For those of you who don't breathlessly follow me on Facebook (impossible), you may have missed my sort of exciting (but REALLY exciting to me) news earlier in the week - so here goes: Starting in November, you'll be able to read some of my thoughts on being a mom on a new site from Bustle called Romper. Clearly I am qualified to speak to millennials - as their elder statesman - and dole out all sorts of advice because I've got this mom thing DOWN after four months.

But in all sincerity, I'm truly flattered that anyone would want to publish anything I have to say and so I'm pretty excited for this new venture. Plus, I don't have enough going on right now with being a new mom, wife, friend, working full time, and trying to figure out what the phrase "on fleek" means. Though, if I'm being honest, I'm at my best when I'm busier than all hell, and so this should be great! But also, "at my best" doesn't always mean "returns email the same day to people I love" and so for that, I'm sorry all of you people I love!

A hearty shout-out to my friend, Brian, who got this whole ball rolling for me. I also got referred to as someone with "verve," and so basically I went around describing myself that way to CB and friends until they tuned me out.

And most importantly, a shout-out to all of you guys who have been faithful followers and readers of this blog for the last few years. (don't worry, I'm not going anyway, Stories About My Underpants will continue as the sight where I DON'T constantly talk about being a mom!) You guys have always rallied around this little blog and I'm eternally grateful that you let me use you as my outlet for every random thought I have.

Thank you.

So click here to read about this new venture and stay tuned in November when it launches!


***

And now, the Video of the Week. This is a discovery by CB and I dig it. So I'll share with you so you can dig it, too!

Happy Friday!

Things I Don't Understand

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post called “Things I Don’t Understand”  and half-joked that I might make it a regular thing on the blog. But now all joking has been set aside because there are way too many things I don’t understand to put into one post. So there are two below that have happened in the last 24 hours and happen ALL OF THE TIME. Much to my dismay.

Hitting the Elevator Button a Whole Bunch. So there are two kinds of these people: the first is the person who hits the elevator button a ton, even after it’s already lit up. Which is adjacent to the person who watches pots boil and anxiously checks their watch and looks for a train that will never arrive. But the second person is the one that perplexes me more because this person sees you standing there in front of the elevator and goes over and hits the lit-up-already button. This confuses me on many levels.

Do you think I’m just standing here staring at the wall without intentions of going anywhere? Probably not, which leads me to assume that you think hitting a button twice makes it come faster, making you the cousin of the above, multiple-hitter. And you both confuse me because I have no life and spend several minutes each week thinking about you.

Not Silencing Your Phone While Playing Candy Crush on the Train. To be fair, this can go for you playing games that aren’t Candy Crush. But you confuse me because we can all hear you making matches or getting coins or whatever it is that happens in Candy Crush (truth be told I’ve never played it because I’m busy dominating in solitaire.) And it’s super-annoying. Hence the obvious, yet subtle, stare-down I do during the entire ride. It’s the train equivalent to people talking during a movie and me doing the side head turn to indicate that you’re bugging me.

What I do think is strange about me, though, is that I’ll turn off my headphones so that I’m more annoyed by your phone game sounds. Why? Because I like to feed the savage beast, that’s why.

Happy Thursday! (Go Mets!)

New Vows

So last year, just prior to our wedding, I blogged about some wedding vows that didn’t make the cut. Now a year (and two months! CB’s counting.) later I feel like I need to expand upon those because lately I feel like maybe you should have to revisit your vows about every 6 months or so. Keeps you both honest, reminds you about all of the love and romance and open bar, and pushes you to continue to grow, learn, and not mind-murder one another when you have a four month old and haven’t slept through the night in we can’t remember how long.

So here goes:

I promise to try and remember not to remind you about how you vowed on our wedding day that you wouldn’t leave your dishes on the counter when the dishwasher is dirty and you could just put them in there instead. I realize I bring it up, on average, every time you do it. But to be fair, you did make a vow in front of God and everyone and so I’m basically helping you stay true to your word. You’re welcome. And also, I promise that the next vow will be less about how you’re doing something you promised you wouldn’t do.

I promise to try and remember to ask you whatever favor I need to ask you prior to you sitting down after being up and doing stuff. I promise that when I say “I’ll pay you a million dollars if you get me a glass of water,” that I’ll do it three seconds before – and not three seconds after – you sit down to watch the game. Because I know you’ll get back up and do it, but I’d prefer that you do my favors without huffing and puffing about how I could’ve asked you twenty seconds prior to that when you were filling up your own water glass. Jeez.

I promise that I’ll try not to take any more pictures of you napping on the floor of our daughter’s room after being over-served at a bachelor party the night before. I don’t, however, promise not to want to do that and also send the pictures to my parents and friends. Not that I’ve done that in the past or anything. I’m just trying to think ahead to what might potentially happen if you were ever to do that.

I promise not to always yell “not it!” when our daughter craps her pants. To be fair, I hope this happens less as the years go on. But in the meantime, it happens pretty much always, and I pretty much always smell it as soon as she deals it out because you have a deviated septum and can’t smell stuff. And that’s patently unfair. And maybe bad parenting? Definitely bad wifeing, of that I’m sure.

I promise not to get offended and make you talk about it for thirty more minutes when you pay me a compliment that sounds kind of like you were insulting past-Becky. Like when I referred to myself as a sow when I was pregnant, assuming you’d be like “you were always so beautiful as a pregnant person with swollen everything.” And instead you said that I don’t look like a sow at all now.

I promise to try and notice more when you’ve shaved and/or grown facial hair and/or gotten a haircut. I realize that it probably looks bad when Beth comments on your four day beard and then I’m like “Oh! Hey! You have a beard!” Also, I realize that the other day when I said “Did you get a haircut?” and you hadn’t, and then I asked you if you shaved your neck hairs because something looked different, that I probably should’ve just said that you looked handsome. Because then you reminded me how I never notice anything about your appearance. To which I told you that it’s because I’m blinded by love. To which you told me that that’s not actually a great answer because I was sort of implying that I don’t even look at you and/or you look bad but I don’t notice. To which I responded that you were being a sensitive lady. To which I think you walked away? I can’t remember. Scandal was on.

I promise to be more selfless like you are. Yeah, this one isn’t funny or sarcastic. I just think it’d be nice if I were more like you in that way because it’s nice and you skootch over on the couch and let me sleep for nights on end so I can get over my cold and you stay up late and get up early with our daughter and she smiles at you all lovingly and it’s because you’re you and she loves you. And so you’re great. Except when you leave your dishes on the counter when the dishwasher is dirty. Even our adorable daughter can’t save you then, buddy.

Happy one year and almost two months anniversary! And Happy Wednesday, everyone! (editor’s note: I’ll be out of town at a good friend’s wedding this weekend and not Friday Wrapping Up – but there are some new books on the book blog, so check it out! And I’ll be back next week, so don’t fear.)

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

My family is nothing if not on-trend, as I'm sure you've been able to tell. And this week's book is no different! With all of this "Mars has water, you guys!" news and the Matt Damon movie premiering this weekend, what is more timely than a review of the book upon which the movie is based: "The Martian" by Andy Weir sounds like a must-read, even though it's kind of sci-fi-y (technical term) and I might have to skim over some of the more dense technological descriptions because I just want to get to where Matt Damon takes his shirt off. Wait....

Anyway, check it out here and then browse around for some other reading inspiration!

***

Couple things from my commute this morning:

What?

Ok, what's going on here? No, I'm serious - what is this. Is that an umbrella head holder? Why would you need this? WHAT IS HAPPENING? Please explain.

And then there was this dog outside of the coffee shop by my office who just made me laugh. He looked so grumpy, wet, and ready for his owner to come on out.

And I love him. 

***

NO I HAVE NOT FIGURED OUT THAT SONG I HATE. You guys. But I do appreciate the texts, emails, and FB messages trying to help me figure it out. Our friend and neighbor, Olga, randomly just started sending me songs: "Is it LMFAO?" "Is it Flo Rida?" No, but the fact that you're spending any time trying to help me figure this out is the best. 

And while our governor has declared a state of emergency in anticipation of the hurricane, I'm declaring a state of emergency in my brain because I MUST FIGURE THIS OUT. And you must help me. 

But while we're doing that, let's watch the very obvious Video of the Week. Oh, also, CB says that I do it wrong and it's more like I'm doing "The Swim" from the 1950s rather than the Whip it nae nae or whatever it's called. So I'll have to study this video and try again over the weekend. Perhaps there will be video documentation for next week. You're welcome.

Also, I literally sing this to myself all day. I just keep saying "whip.....nae nae....whip, whip...nae nae." Which I'm pretty sure is getting me a lot of respect at work. 

Happy Friday! Happy birthday to my mother-in-law!!! (this is obviously her favorite song.)

Conversations from Cohabitation: Old Lady Edition

So I was making a pb&j for CB yesterday and, as I handed it to him, we had this conversation:

Me: “Do you kiss your sandwiches?”
CB, staring at me.
Me (walking away): “No, nevermind, nobody does that, nevermind….”
CB, laughing: “Oh God this is gonna be good. Do I kiss my sandwiches? Do you?”
Me: “No, not, like, kiss your sandwiches. But, like, the bread.”
CB: “Do I kiss the bread?!”
Me: “Yeah, when you put the two pieces together.”
CB: “I don’t even know how we’re possibly having this conversation. So you kiss each piece of bread?”
Me: “No, not actual kisses, I just make a kissing sound when I put them together, like the pieces of bread are kissing. But I don’t kiss the bread itself.”
CB: “Right, cuz that would be a lot weirder than what you’re describing.”
Me: “Nevermind.”
CB, laughing: “I just love that you could even picture me making a kissing noise with my bread when I make a sandwich.”
Me: “I just wasn’t sure if it was a thing or a me thing.”
CB: “It’s definitely a you thing. Most of the things in your life are you things, fyi.”

***

So last week I was walking down the street and starting thinking about a song that drives me crazy every time I hear it. Except I couldn’t think of the song. Which started driving me even crazier. And so I texted CB.

And then the conversation continued later that evening.

Me: “Ok, so we have to have a serious conversation about us figuring out what song I hate.”
CB: “Ok…but I don’t know if that falls into the category of ‘serious conversation.’”
Me: “You need to help me because I’m going crazy.”
CB: “You’ve literally told me nothing. How can you not know ONE lyric or a melody?”
Me: “I don’t know. But the worst part is going to be when we both hear it and then can’t get it out of our heads. It’s awful.”
CB: “I don’t think this song exists.”
Me: “It DOES exist! I can’t believe it’s not immediately coming to you, this is so annoying! I complain about it every time it comes on.”
CB: “Yes, you’re the one who should be annoyed in this scenario.”
Me, laughing: “I know….but I need you to help me. I won’t sleep otherwise.”
CB: “When did it come out, do you know that?”
Me: “I think this year? Or last year.”
CB: “Ok, so we’ll search popular songs from 2014 and 2015.”

Fast forward through 15 minutes of us googling Billboard Top 100 hits from the last two years.

Me: “Now that I’m looking at the songs that were top hits in 2014 I’m feeling like maybe it’s been out longer? And most of these songs I’ve never heard of.”
CB: “This is going really well.”
Me, reading off the list of 100 songs from this year: “I’ve not heard of half of these people. ‘Silento…..A$AP Rocky…Fetty Wap….”
CB: “You know Fetty Wap. He’s the guy with one eye I showed you a few weeks ago.”
Me: “Oh, right. But I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup. Or any of his songs.”
CB: “The safe bet, in the lineup scenario, would be to pick the guy with only one eye.”
Me: “You knew what I meant.”

Silence.

Me: “ ‘OMI…..Major Lazer & DJ Snake….Rich Homie Quan…..Silento’…”
CB: “You know Silento.”
Me: “I do not.”
CB: “He sings the Whip it Nae Nae song.”
Me, laughing: “What on earth are you talking about?”
CB, standing up, singing: “Whip…..nae nae. Whip-whip…nae nae.”
Me, laughing harder: “Oh my God, I’ve literally never heard this song.”
CB: “How old ARE you?! There’s a whole dance and everything!”
Me: “What?! Do you know the dance?”
CB: “Of course I know the dance!”
Me: “Do it right now, then.”
CB, getting into position: “I can whip a nae nae no problem.”

And then he did.

Sadly, we still haven’t figured out what song I hate. But now I can’t stop singing about whipping a nae nae. Problem multiplied.

However, I did come into work today and he'd emailed me this without any text. So, you know, it's why I married him.

Happy Monday! 

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

First, I have to give a shout-out to my mother-in-law for two reasons:

1. She has been babysitting R for the last two weeks while I reacclimate to this whole "going to work full time" thing. It's been a huge relief to know that we didn't have to adjust to daycare at the same time as I was adjusting to getting out the door, showered and clothed in non-spitup attire, each day.
2. Speaking of which....this morning I came out of the bedroom and she was like "Is your shirt on inside out?" and I was like "No... oh crap, yes."

So, you know, one of the above reasons is obviously more important. I'll let you be the judge.

***

This week's book is "Elephant Company" by Vici Constantine Croke.  This is a book my dad told me about recently and I immediately added it to my growing list Click here  to check it out and browse around for other good fall reads!

***

I swear to God, if anyone tells me what happened on TGIT (otherwise known as "The Night of Shonda Rhimes TV") I will unfriend you very violently. DON'T SAY ANYTHING, people, this is what DVR is for and I go to bed at 8:30!

Also, I had this conversation with CB last night and he is so happy we're married forever:

Me: "Oh, by the way, at 10 tonight you're going to have to choose between watching 'How to Get Away with Murder' or 'Project Runway.'"
CB: "Um, neither of those sound like options of shows I want to watch. Plus, didn't I tell you no more Shonda?"
Me: "I didn't listen. You'll love it! It's like 'Scandal'!"
CB: "No, no more Shonda!"
Me: "Too late. I already set the DVR. So anyway, when you're watching the Mets and that little reminder comes on that says we're taping two shows at the same time and so you have to switch to one or cancel one, pick whichever one you want."
CB: "Or I can cancel one?"
Me: "No, that's an option Fios gives you. Not an option I am giving you. Plus, the Mets game might be over by then."
CB: "Beck, you're saying that, while I'm watching the Mets play towards their first pennant race in years, I have to stop and watch a show about fashion or a show about adultery and murder?"
Me: "Yes. Oh crap, also, I just realized 'Project Runway' comes on at 9 instead of 10."
CB: "Oh good, then I don't have to worry, right?"
Me: "No, 'Scandal' is on at 9. So you can choose between 'Scandal' or 'Project Runway.'"
CB: "Beck!"
Me: "It's only once a week!"
CB: "This is not happening. We need a second tv."
Me: "No, marriage is the art of compromise."
CB: "This somehow doesn't feel like a compromise at all on your part."
Me: "Right. Today is your day to compromise. I'll compromise tomorrow. See? Perfect!"

***

And now, the Video of the Week. This song came on this morning and I'd forgotten all about how much I like it. So even though the video quality isn't the best....enjoy! Happy Friday, everyone!

Things I Don't Understand.

So you guys, I think I’m going to start a new series on this blog called “Things I Don’t Understand.” Because the list is plentiful. And nearly every day I think to myself “wait, what? I don't understand.” and then try to figure out what the f is going on. Usually this happens on my way to or from work because those are the hours where I’m among other adults who are doing or saying or liking things that make no sense to me.

Let’s get started.

Sneezing and not covering your mouth. This is something I plan on teaching my daughter not to do as soon as she figures out that, while adorable, her sneezes are grody to others who didn’t birth her. Which I believe comes right after her figuring out that it’s easier to grab things if her hands aren’t clenched into fist form. So, you know, a few more months from now.

But this morning a guy, like, non-adorably sneezed into the subway air and I wanted to wear a Michael Jackson mask forever. I gave him my glaring-est glare, but it didn’t seem to have much of an impact. Especially since I looked for support from my other commuter comrades and they were all busy not caring about dying of typhoid. Or whatever is transmitted via sneeze. I just don’t understand.

Wearing an untied bowtie around your neck. There was a guy wearing a normal outfit with an untied polka-dot bowtie around his neck this morning, you guys. I did a quick assessment to see if he was doing a walk of shame from a fancy night-before, but he had too much product in his hair and a t-shirt on for that to be the case. If it was a walk of shame he’d just take the dumb un-tied bowtie off, no? And you certainly don't do your hair. You're getting the heck outta there (from what I've heard.)

Which leads me to believe it was on purpose. And so I don’t understand. So I googled it when I got to work, as any normal grownup with a life would do, and found this.

And while I've been known to adopt awful, awful trends like rooster hair and pegging of the pants, I was THIRTEEN. Thirteen-year-old people, as a rule, are dumb. With awful taste in trends. I mean, I also thought I would be marrying Jordan Knight so, you know, having rooster hair went with the territory.

I just don’t understand.

And finally….

The song “Can’t Feel My Face.” Can someone with ears please explain this to me? I was listening to the radio the other day and the DJ said that this was the song of the summer. So then, of course, I realized that it was September and I’d never heard the song because I live in a cave of my own self-protection. 

So I texted CB about how I couldn’t believe I’d never heard the song of the summer but also that I couldn’t believe it was the song of the summer because it was awful. He responded that we’re old and should just listen to old-timey music for the rest of our lives because only old people have these conversations. Or something.

But stay with me here for a minute, let’s unpack this one: the band/person’s name is “The Weeknd.” No, I didn’t forget the “e,” they/he did. Why? It’s only one letter, you’re not really saving time and, if anything, are just confusing poor old people who don’t understand spelling things wrong by one letter. It makes my brain hurt.

Also, is this the name of the person singing the song or is it a band? I don’t understand if The Weeknd is a person or multiple people. So I YouTube’d the song and I think he’s just one guy. Who also has rooster hair. Full circle.  

But really, I simply don’t understand. Why can’t you feel your face when you’re with me? Did you just come from the dentist? Have I drugged you or immobilized your senses in some way? In which case, you really shouldn’t hang out with me anymore. Don’t love me, The Weeknd! I’m bad for your face!

I just don’t understand.

Do you? 

Happy Wednesday!

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

Ok, so you can fast-forward through this until about 3:30 and then start watching it, but I have to say that it was pretty spot-on to conversations and experiences CB and I have had.

"A demon banshee-screaming at us." That pretty much sums up parenting! (I'm a phenomenal mother).

***

This week's book is "Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage" by Haruki Murakami (rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?) You'll notice a theme - my dad and I are kind of Murakami fans, so you'll see a bunch of his books on here. I haven't read this one, but will put it on my list for 2020 when maybe I'll finish a book (or a thought) again? Click here and check it out! 

***

And now, the Video of the Week. Found this via my sister and instantly gravitated to it. Check out their story here and then watch the video below. For those of you who don't know, I've played the violin since I was four (though, admittedly, I don't play nearly as much as I should anymore) and was certainly never this cool. 

All I needed were some sunglasses and a
baseball cap and I would've been HIP. 

Enjoy! 

Happy Friday!

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it!

***

You guys, I know! I've sort of sucked at blogging. To be fair, I've also sucked at: showering, wearing clothes without someone else's spit-up on them, sleeping for more than four hours consecutively, and not talking about the number of times the 11-pound person living in my home poops. So, you know, bear with me.

***

Desperate for some new reading material? Check out the new book review of "Roseanna"and browse around for other fall reading inspiration! Oh, also. Fall? It'd be nice if you'd quit being 100 degrees. Thanks.

***

Yes.

***

And yes!

***

Hug or call the ones you love.

Conversations from Cohabitation

So, you guys are aware of this hacker scandal thing with Ashley Madison, right? Which is sort of like a really bad car accident but you can't look away, you know?

Which is why CB and I had this conversation the other day:

Me: "Man, did you see all of this craziness with the Ashley Madison website?"
CB: "Yeah, that's nuts."
Me: "I can't believe how many people were on there! I mean, I guess they say that more than half of all marriages will experience infidelity at some point, but still!"
CB: "Yeah, and apparently there were a bunch of .gov and .mil email addresses."
Me: "I know, I saw that!"

Silence.

Me: "I could't believe how many people used their work addresses. That's just dumb. I would never do that."

Silence.

Me: "I mean, if you're going to do it, at least create a fake email address, you know?"
CB: "I guess."
Me: "That's what I'd do. I mean, how dumb if I just signed up as me. Way too easy to trace."
CB, staring at me.
Me: "Like, I'd just have a yahoo account or something that you didn't know about."
CB, still staring while holding our daughter.
Me, realizing how this is all sounding: "Oh don't worry, I don't even have the energy to have an affair with you let alone create a seductive online personality."
CB: "So basically you're saying that the reason you haven't cheated on me via a cheaters website is because you're too lazy?"
Me: "Not lazy, tired."
CB: "Well that's a lot better."
Me: "Hey, whatever works, right?"
CB: "Feel the love." 

***

Tonight, while CB was feeding our daughter, I decided to give him his food options for dinner.

Me: "Ok, so we have the Swedish meatballs with egg noodles that your mom gave us or Chicken Parm. I'd have to cook the egg noodles for the meatballs."
CB: "Either sound delicious."
Me: "Which one would you like?"

Silence while he thought about it.

CB: "The meatballs would be great."
Me: "Really?? How did you not get that hint that I didn't want to make those?"
CB: "Wait, what?"
Me: "I told you I'd have to cook the noodles!"
CB: "Right and I said that either option sounded delicious!"
Me: "Yeah, and you were supposed to know that the chicken parm was easier for me to just heat up."
CB: "But you asked what I wanted!"
Me: "Only to give you the illusion of control over the situation, you should know me better by now."
CB: "Well then the chicken parm sounds delicious."
Me: "Great, I'm glad we're on the same page."

Silence.

CB: "What would I like to drink?"
Me: "Nobody thinks you're funny."

Friday Wrapup

Let's get to it! Look you guys, twice in one week!

***

First, some nice, light summer reading! "The Wisdom of Psychopaths"is a book my dad and I talked about last week and it actually sounds pretty interesting....even though CB was like "I guess you come by this hold darkness thing naturally..." after overhearing the conversation. Whatever, psychopaths are fun to talk about!

But check out my dad's review by clicking here and browse around for other summer reading inspiration (and even some that don't include psychopaths!).  Enjoy!

***

Um, if my daughter has ANY of my genes, when I play Beyonce, it will soothe her soul like it does mine. However, Biggie wouldn't be a bad second place option.

***

And speaking of Beyonce, I've started going to the gym around 6am every day while my daughter sleeps in with her dad (we use the term "sleep in" loosely these days...). And this song is THE ONE that gets me moving when my body aches from having carried a human inside of me for the last near-year and all I want to do is nap on the floor. Bey's got me.

Happy Friday, see you next week!

The Baby Comes Out of WHERE?

Disclaimer: apologies in advance for those of you who really are hoping this doesn’t turn into an annoying/boring mom-blog. For the next few posts, it might. Because I’ve turned into an annoying/boring mom. I hope to resume my natural position of annoying/boring regular person who happens to have given birth, but that may not happen ‘til September. Oh also, I say “butt” and “vagina” a lot. So you’ve been warned (CB).

So I’ve been out of blogging commission these last several weeks because a human – complete with shoulders and fingers and a whole big head of hair – decided to come out of my vagina and then demand that I feed and bathe and dress her while never once saying thank you or please or even offering to pick up the tab once as a gesture of good faith. And I’ve decided to go along with this one-sided deal because sometimes she smiles at me as if she recognizes that I’m the same person who had that cozy, handy uterus she grew to know and love for all of those months. And her smiles are super –cute, you guys.  

Also, because her dad and I drank too much wine some time back in October and basically created her life, so I’d feel kind of guilty leaving her with a note on the front step of one of our neighbors being like “she’s cute but also can blow gas like nobody’s business. You’re welcome and thank you.” And because our neighbors would probably recognize her as that kid belonging to the sleepy couple that used to shower a few months ago and then bring her back. And I’m uncomfortable with confrontation, so we’ll go ahead and just keep feeding and bathing her so that it doesn’t get awkward.  

Plus, since motherhood has made me a ball of anxiety that doesn’t want to let my daughter out of my sight, it’d probably make that whole “abandoning your newborn” thing a little more challenging. But mainly because our neighbors would totally bring her back.

Which brings me to the purpose of this post: a person grew inside of and then exited from my body and now I can’t sleep/don’t sleep/shower/go hang at the bar because LOVE. And hormones? And instincts. And a lack of prescription Xanax. Which people sort of prepared me for? But not really. Plus I wasn’t listening because it wasn’t happening yet and I’m kind of a control-freak who figured I’d totally ace this mom thing while also being able to shave my legs.  

I have not, if you’re wondering, aced either of those things.

So, in order to continue the trend of giving completely helpful advice to people who won’t listen until after they’ve already experienced something they could’ve avoided had they listened, jeez, I’m going to go ahead and list off some of the things I wish I’d known prior to having my daughter (who I love and adore and am staring at out of the corner of my eye as I type this because, hello, were you listening? I have anxiety issues that are irrational. And because I had a dream about her falling out of her boppy last night and now I basically can’t deal.)

You will catch poop in your hand. This is less something I wish I’d known and more something I just sort of wish I’d known wouldn’t actually be that big of a deal. I mean, I’d rather not hold another person’s poop in my hands, as a general rule. But if it has to be anyone’s, may as well be my daughter’s poop, is my thinking? Basically because I know she can’t help it and would totally rather take care of this whole thing herself, if she’s being honest. But since she’s just now starting to realize that her hands and feet are attached to her body, and still accidentally hits herself in the face at least three times a day, I’ll do the poop-catching until she’s at least a few more months old. Which I believe is what good parenting is all about.

You will love/hate your spouse. Not sure if this is universal, but for the sake of my marriage, I’ll assume yes? Because there are several moments where you will have simultaneous feelings of complete love and absolute hate for your partner. Which sounds harsh, especially when talking about the person you have chosen to spend the rest of your life with and is the father to your child. But, um, it’s true. (oh hi, CB!  You can skip this part, it’s not about you at all so go ahead and just re-read the earlier paragraph on catching poop. I love you. Bye.)

Like, the other day I looked at CB holding our daughter just after feeding her and thought how fortunate she and I were to have him. They were so adorable, he was so helpful, and I had 15 minutes to just sit there and not be a baby-manager.

And then the very next moment he complained about how tired he was (after his 8 consecutive hours of sleep) and if I hadn’t been so ACTUALLY tired from my 1.5 hours of consecutive sleep the prior three nights, I would’ve hit him. And it would’ve hurt for sure, because that was some visceral rage right there.

But then he cleaned her poop-up-the-front diaper and gave her a bath and I loved him wholeheartedly again. Until he left all of the dirty bottles on the counter before heading out to his job where he gets to hang with other adults for eight hours and I cursed his name under my breath so that our daughter wouldn’t worry about being the product of a broken home.

Oh also, he’ll love/hate you right back. So it’s a reciprocal thing which makes it totally fine.

Man, I should really be a life coach.

Procreate with someone you like. Not just someone you love. Because love won’t save you at 4am during gas and screams (the baby’s, not yours – though it’s not out of the question). Like will.

Like will get you to see past the fact that neither of you have showered, thought about, talked about, or even hung out around the idea of personal hygiene/grooming for a few days and it’ll move you right into acceptance that this is temporary and one or both of you (hopefully) will attempt to woo the other in the not-too-distant future. And like will also help you remember that you felt hot-body feelings for this person at one point (which is how you got yourselves into this mess blessing in the first place) and that they’ll eventually come back to resembling the person you married once you’ve used deodorant again.

You will show literally anyone your vagina. I mean, not, like, when you get home and your in-laws come over for dinner. But while you’re in the hospital, prior to giving birth, I assure you that you will get to the point where someone will enter the room and you’ll be like “Do you need to see my vagina? Ok. Here.”

Which is totally weird, I know, but I spent the first three-to-four hours of my 26-hour labor experience trying to be coy. Like, someone would come in to check my cervix and I’d have my knees together, all lady-like, trying to be dainty. And then the nurse would explain that that’s not a helpful position to be in for cervix-checking and you’ll make your husband turn around because the cervix isn’t one of your sexier parts.

Cut to: three hours later when you just stop pulling the sheet back up over you b/c that’s a lot of work and leaning/bending is hard and why fight it?  Here’s my vagina. I’m so sorry, housekeeping-lady-who-just-wanted-to-empty-the-garbage – I have no dignity left.

And most importantly…..

You poop babies. WHAT? Yeah.

Why hasn’t anyone ever, in the history of writing about birth, EVER mentioned that when you’re fully dilating and approaching the time at which you’ll finally get to push out a person, all of your normal contractions stop and it suddenly feels like your baby is about to come out of your butt?

MY GOD, you guys.

To be fair, a friend of mine did mention the pooping babies thing to me about a week or two before I gave birth, but I forgot about it because it sounded gross and ridiculous and it wasn’t happening yet (see above rationale for this). But then it WAS happening and so I turned to CB and was like “Ok, so I know we’ve gone ‘round the bend in the over-share department these last 24 hours, but since you’re the only person in the room, I need to tell you this: I’m pretty sure our baby is going to come out of my butt, and unless I missed something in health class, I think that’s the wrong place?”

And then he went to McDonald’s to get some dinner and bleach his eardrums.

So I texted my friend Beth (the person who’d actually told me this prior to labor):

Me: So is this normal or weird that it feels like the baby is about to come out of my butt?
Beth: Uh, we talked about this. Normal. Call your nurse. You’re about to have the baby!
Me: Really? That’s kind of embarrassing. Plus, I think she’s on her dinner break, I don’t want to bother her.
Beth: You’re having a baby. Call your nurse. Seriously. I can’t believe you’re even texting me right now.

And then 35 minutes later my daughter was born. Out of the normal part. Not my butt. (I think).

So ok, this wasn’t a comprehensive list of things to know, but it’s a list unlike what I’ve seen on all of my mommy blogs. I mean, no offense, but telling me to bring my favorite music with me into the delivery room and having a birthing plan was unhelpful, ALL PREGNANCY BLOGS. Because I assure you that my birth plan would’ve included a lot less butt-pushing and a ton more Beyonce music had this at all been within my control.

Which it’s not. Because it’s about babies. And the only thing you really need to know about having babies is that the control goes out the window once you’re catching poop and showing the security guard your vagina.

And it’s the best thing I’ve ever done with my life, hands-down. And probably the smelliest.

Glad to be (kind of) back! Thanks for your patience, blog-readers!