The big ONE.

Well hello, all my faithful readers and bloggy friends.

I have finally recovered enough from the big 0-1 party, to catch up on my now neglected piddly little blog.

Tomorrow I will introduce you to this weeks Featured Favorite Blogger whom I know you will all love as I do...but first things first.....The Party.

Let me just give you all who do not know me as well as others, a little insight into all that is me. I am slightly crafty. I've been known to sew a button or two and I can make a mean bow. I am also the type who doesn't do things...a little.

It wasn't 1, or even 2, trips to the craft store....nope. It was 7 trips to 3 different craft stores looking for the PERFECT ribbon, the EXACT cupcake stand, the ONLY HAIR CLIP IN THE WORLD that will pull the entire party together.

Then there was the countless hours spent on the Internet looking at plates. PLATES! And don't get me started on the cupcake toppers. (And if you're looking for creative and beautiful toppers from the lady who did mine, go to her Etsy store here.)

My sister-in-law, Celena, was the cupcake and cake pop artist extraordinaire. The cupcake and cake pop stand were made by me and my trusty glue gun with 7 different types of ribbon. Told ya.

Considering how many children were going to be here and my really, really, not wanting them all running around my house and playing with the pool table or attempting to drown themselves in a freezing cold swimming pool, we thought it a good idea to get a bouncy house. Genius. This thing is freaking GENIUS, I say! Also, a great work out. I was in it for all of about 5 minutes and was exhausted. I have no idea how my nephews were in it all day long. Not kidding. All. Day. And then came back the next day for seconds!

Do they have one of these at the gym?

All in all, the day was amazing and fun and I was an exhausted grumpy lump by the end of the day. I mean grumpy to the point that my parents were telling me I needed to go to bed. Lol. I got sent to bed by my parents at 34. Boogie made out in the gift department and I am knee deep in Thank You cards.

World Best Dad Award goes to the white version of DJ Lance Rock, otherwise known as Rutherford.

Big THANK YOU to everyone that helped me pull all of this together, Momo & Papa, Mom & Dad, Celena and Rutherford and a big HUGE THANK YOU to everyone that came out to celebrate our baby girls big day with us. It's a day we will never forget.

One year ago today...

I was not one of those women who had the "pregnancy glow". There was no glowing going on here.

Nope.

One year ago today, at this exact very moment, I was a house.

A whale.

Had I gone to the beach, people would be trying to push me back into the ocean.

I was 2 days shy of giving birth to Boogie and I. Was. Miserable.

At the very end of my pregnancy, I couldn't eat or drink (even water) without getting heartburn or reflux, and sleeping was impossible. If I ever even got remotely comfortable, the comfort would be interrupted by my need to get up and take Pepcid and/or pee. Ugh, Pepcid.

This is where it gets glamorous because my doctor said that every woman is tortured by some ailment during their pregnancy. Mine? Yeast infections. Too much information? Probably, but had you been around when I was pregnant you would have already known this because Rutherford would have told you. Oh yeah.

I can laugh now at the memory of standing in line at Walgreen's with him, my 18th bottle of Pepcid in one hand and a box of Monistat in the other and him giggling like a 12 year old and loudly saying the word "Vagisil" over and over while in line.

Back off ladies, he's all mine.

Needless to say, I couldn't wait to get this kid out of me.

On top of all that, she wasn't dropping and I wasn't dilating. I was a week from my due date of March 17th and the wasn't budging. My ribs were bruising and I would cry over the pain in my ribs and back and praying she would just drop. But no.

The next picture is of my sister-in-law, Celena, right after Boogie was born. She told me to take this photo because this is what she as doing in my belly, hence the extreme pain.

22 1/2 inches at birth and me with a 32 inch rib cage. Ouch.

On March 10th, 2010, I had my last weekly doctors appointment before Boogie's due date and I was done. Done being pregnant, done with not sleeping, done with the Monistat, done with it all.

That day I sat on the table and PRAYED I was dilated, even a little bit. Give me something! A light at the end of the tunnel or SOMETHING!

But no, Boogie wasn't cooperating or budging. And that's when I started to cry. I cried and put my foot down. I decided then and there I was NOT leaving till I was told exactly what my doctor planned on doing about this injustice!

"I'm done! I'm done, I tell you! She's cooked! She's ready! PUHLEEZ get this kid out of me! I can't take it anymore!"

I'm sure I said more than this and probably a bit more colorful than that but you get the gist.

My wonderful doctor left the room for a minute and when she returned she said, "How does today at 5 sound!"

Praise the Lord! Sweet Baby Jesus!

Next thing I knew we were checked into the hospital, I was hooked up to machines and tubes, and Mom was heading to the airport in San Diego. And wouldn't you know it...that's when the contractions started. Of course.

The next few hours were painful but fast and before I knew it I was being wheeled into the operating room, shot in the back and Rutherford was by my side.

What I remember from those minutes was lots of tugging, my ribs hurting and Katy Perry music.

At 5:24 pm on March 10, 2010, Audrey Elizabeth was born...all 8lbs 10.9 oz and 22 1/2 inches of her.

As soon as they pulled Boogie out, Rutherford went to be with her and I cried to my anesthesiologist that I thought they broke my ribs. He promised to give me something good (and boy did he deliver) but he wanted to wait till I got to see the baby for the first time, he wanted me to remember it.

Perfect.

Do you see that? 8 lbs, 10.9 oz.

He hasn't let go of her since.

I will never forget it.

The wonderful man with the drugs gave me Demerol and I was the happiest person in the world. I guess a little too happy because I heard from family later that my doctor called me Michael Jackson, Rutherford referred to me as Jim Morrison and my friend Jennifer, who was waiting in my hospital room, said she could hear me talking and laughing as they wheeled me from the OR back to my room.

Can I get some of that to go?

Coming home from the hospital.

Now here we are, just about a year later, Boogie is half precious angel baby, and half menace dog torturer.

Life has changed in every way possible.

We are now a family.

Being 20 Something....

So today I spent the day cleaning out the office. You would be surprised at the crap I keep. If I don't watch it you're all going to see me on that show Hoarders, surrounded by old receipts and Target bags.


Anywho... I came upon a folder that had some of my old writings in it. Like on paper! Can you believe it! And in green sparkly pen, to top it off. 


Nothing like green sparkly pen to get your point across and engage the reader.


I wrote this when I was turning 25 (you do the math, jerks) and thought I'd share it with you. Just takes you back to the time when life sucked. You're broke, you're single (or in another crappy relationship), you're in the worst part of your career (the starting from the bottom phase), everything the government tells you is a conspiracy and you haven't had a decent home cooked meal since your Mommy last visited.


You're one flat tire away from starving and even your cat looks at you like you're an idiot.

Being 20 Something

They call is the 'quarter-life crisis'. It's when you stop going along with the crowd and suddenly realize there are a lot of things about yourself you may not know and might not like. You being to feel insecure and wonder where you'll be in 2 years- the get scared because you don't even know where you are now.

This is also when it becomes painfully clear how selfish people can be, and maybe those friends you thought were so great, really aren't that great at all. And the ones you've lost touch with over the years, were actually some of the most important. However, what we fail to recognize is that we are hardly alone, they are all realizing this too, and are just as confused as us.

You take a long hard look at your job which is not even close to what you'd thought you'd be doing. You see that, apparently, there is a difference between a 'job' and a 'career'. And not knowing which one you're in, or even which one you want....makes you just want to stay in bed anyway.

But with age, comes self awareness. Being away from the comforts and securities and 'the old gang' gives you the opportunity to gain perspective and a real sense of who you are. Opinions and convictions are getting stronger and you now find yourself judging others more...and harsher than usual. Everyday adding to the list of what you consider acceptable, or not anywhere near.  What may have been okay last week, is unthinkable today. This also goes for the people you choose to associate yourself with when it becomes alarmingly clear that birds of a feather...really do flock together.

You are insecure, and then 100% sure. You wonder how you can clearly know everything and apparently, nothing at all. And that the worst kind of 'lonely' is the lonely felt in a room full of people.

Suddenly change is the enemy and you tire yourself out grasping for the past. Then one day is dawns on you, that the past has past and now you have a choice: Move forward, or get left behind. 

You heart gets broken while you're breaking hearts. 'True love' is a myth told at little girl's tea parties and perpetuated by the hopeful. You learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul. That love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't mean security, kisses aren't contracts, nor are presents meant to be promises. Planting your own garden instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

The 'cool' is starting to become pathetic and the 'dork is now husband material. Except that all the good ones are gone, or gay. So we give up our search for 'Mr.Right', at least for tonight, and go on a quest for whom ever looks like 'Mr.Right Now' through the bottom of a shot glass. 

(Okay, I need to cut in here for a second and just laugh. I sound like those little goth kids on South Park.  Conformists.)

Then, in an average moment, on a not-so-extraordinary day, it all changes. The light at the end of the tunnel. With your head up and your eyes wide open, you being to find comfort within yourself for the first time. Gone are the precious moments wasted on giving a crap about what everyone else is wearing, driving or dating and you wonder why it even mattered to begin with.

You being to accept you defeats with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child. Regrets are now being packed away with our senior yearbooks and mix tapes. In its place are lessons only learned from mistakes, 401k's and self respect. And now when you say you like yourself, you actually mean it. It all comes down to the fact that you're in your 20's and it's supposed to be like this. Why else do you think you can drink at 21, cause you're definitely going to need a drink for this one.

So that was it. I just want to go back in time to give myself a hug and a slap on the back of the head, a la Cher in Moonstruck. "Snap out of it!"

I can't really remember what was going on at that time but apparently I had just had my heart broken and/or just started my first 401k. Either way I was a hot mess...and a drunk. I wonder if I was drunk when I wrote this? I sure hope so. I think *I* need a drink now. 

I just recently (Feb 20th) turned 34 and have been feeling terribly old so I'm glad I found this. If that's what young was, I am happy to be old. 

Cheers.

Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you...

Hey everyone!

Yes, i've been MIA for a bit but I have good reason! It's Boogie's 1st birthday next week and I am in full party planning mode.

So I promise I will get back to you, dear blog readers...

I will give you the whole scoop on the wedding and the party and Rutherford dressing up at DJ Lance Rock...yes, you read that right.

I love my life.

You can always catch up with me on Twitter anytime! @betterhalfmommy

Featured Favorite Blogger Friday!- Jenny Beans Blog

So I decided to start something new this week and introduce my faithful readers to what I like to read.

I'm calling it "Featured Favorite Blogger Friday!" Very clever and snappy title, if I do say so myself.

This week we will we meeting Jenny Bean from the aptly titled, Jenny Beans Blog: The madcap adventures of a single woman who went to the bank to become a mommy.

I came across her blog on twitter well before I started my own and was instantly hooked. She has also been a loyal reader, commenter and supporter of this piddly little spot of mine, which I can't thank her enough.

Jenny took matters into her own hands and went the non-traditional route to motherhood by doing IVF from anonymous donors and has 2 of the cutest and most hilarious little Beans to show for it. She's out there showing the world, in her own funny way, how it's done...Bean style.

And by "Bean style" I mean with the help of a gaggle of family Beans including the live-in Papa who apparently has a thing for Match.com. Any takers?

Someone give Jennifer Aniston Jenny's number.

Meet all the Beans here.

Jenny

Jax Bean

Cutie Patootie Moose Bean

To help you get to know the Beans, here's a post called A Bean In The Oven. So head on over and take a stroll around Maison Bean and be sure to tell her I sent you.

Happy Reading!

Jenny: Like I said, can't thank you enough. Love you, love reading your comments and love the Beans. Cheers!

Bright Starts Pretty In Pink Walk-a-Bout Review

My little Princess Boogie Boo is getting so big. Every time we turn around she is doing something new. But what she is not doing yet it walking...

Luckily, I was recently contacted by Bright Starts to see if I would like to check out their new walker and I jumped at the chance. We have been using it for about a week now and I am ready for give my review...

Drum roll please.....

We LOVE it!

What's not to love! How stinkin' cute is this to begin with?

I know right? The colors are so cute and sweet, the attached toys are engaging, fun and allow for me to attach additional toys or a sippy cup holder.

Here's what Bright Starts has to say about it:

Learning to walk has never been this much fun! The Bright Starts™ Pretty in Pink™ Walk-a-Bout™ is perfect for baby girls who are on the move.  The high back seat provides extra support as baby is perfecting those steps and getting stronger.  Also, the 3 position height adjustment allows the Pretty in Pink™ Walk-a-Bout™ to grow with baby and be used over time.  3 fun toys and 2 links for attaching more toys will keep baby entertained while on the move.  The Pretty in Pink™ Walk-a-Bout™ conveniently folds for storage.
 

Here's what I have to say about it:

When it first comes out of the box, it is in a few pieces but I found it VERY easy to put together, even with a curious kid hanging on to your pants saying "Mama Mama Mama..." and I only smashed my finger once! And for someone who walks into walls pretty regularly, that's a great sign.

As I was first putting the seat portion together I noticed how easily the washable fabric comes off for cleaning and how narrow the seat itself is. This makes the walking motion easier as opposed to the more stiff or bulky fabric seats I've seen with other walkers. It also has 3 easily adjustable height differences and collapses down to a very low profile which is good for travel or storage. The base is more narrow then old bulky walkers but still very stable so I can see this being great for people in smaller homes, apartments or places with narrower hallways.

Now comes the real test, how would Boogie do in it? Now, this isn't our first rodeo when it comes to walkers. We were given a 5 year old hand-me-down boy themed walker a few months ago from my sister-in-law. Audrey hated it. She liked to play with with toys on the tray but all she would do it go backwards.

Sit her in. Watch her back into a wall. Turn her around. Watch her back into the opposite wall. Turn her around.

Rinse and repeat.

So I wasn't really expecting too much when I finally put her in it. Observe what happened next...

Do you notice anything about these photos Um, maybe that they are not in focus? Yeah hard to get good photos when THE KID WON'T SIT STILL!

It was amazing.

I put her in and off she went! IN A FORWARD DIRECTION! Like she had been doing it all along!

I had to take this video...

Does she look happy or what?

Also, notice I have all real wood floors which worried me at first since real wood can be damaged easily but so far I haven't seen one scratch, scrape or dent!

Next came a safety concern... We have a sunken formal living room that is now used as a play room that means a step...DOWN.

And it happened. I turned around and saw she was right on the edge and before I could run to save her life..... Hey wait, what happened? Why did Boogie just not plummet the 6 inches to her doom?

She's stuck. Stuck? Wha?

Those white strips are actually bumpers or stoppers, when they touch the ground they actually stop the walker from moving entirely. This is, in my opinion, the best feature for the type of house we have.

We even took the walker to test it out over at my in-law's house where she has tile floors and several area rugs since I was curious how it would do on those. The rugs didn't seem to slow her down one bit with the exception of one small one but it slides and has fringe so it was just moved out of the way while we were there.

They also have a back patio with a step which the safety stoppers worked perfectly on and a back walkway covered in pavers that was no match for my newly mobile monkey!

Momo & Papa's back patio.

In the end, everyone in the family is happy. Rutherford loves being chased up and down the hallways by a laughing and screaming Boogie. I love that I know I can set her in there and not have to worry about her trying to climb into the fireplace to eat rocks (Worlds Best Mom Award!) and that she is safe to run around to her little hearts content. The mutts surely feel safer knowing that they aren't going to squished and loved to death at any moment....but they do need to watch their tails. Beanie learned that one the hard way.

Check out my video wrap up with a cameo by Beanie, the menace wiener dog.

You can find more information on the Walk-a-Bout walker, as well as, where to buy and the entire line of Pretty In Pink toys, gear and accessories at www.kidsii.com!

Happy shopping, my friends!








I was given this walker by Kidsii PR with the purpose of doing this review. I was in no way compensated in exchange for a good review. I just really think this is awesome sauce. Now go buy their stuff.

Stupid Planes, Stupid People & Stupid Poop

Here I am blogging again. It must be because I don't have a job and have too much time on my hands. No seriously. I was told this by someone this past weekend as they were sitting in front of a computer. Reading my blog. And then looking right at me. Paraphrasing here but it was pretty much "Blogging is for people who don't work and have entirely too much time on their hands."

::nervous laugh::

Well, okay then...

This past weekend I flew back to California, Boogie in tow, for my BFF Trudy's bridal shower. The shower itself was beautiful and she made out like a bandit in the gift department, as she should. I made the mistake of PURCHASING my gift for her and flew it with me. Apparently, I didn't think I had enough to pack, what with the baby, the stroller, the car seat, her clothes, my clothes, diapers, formula, monitor, toys, food, etc....so I figured, what the heck, go ahead and throw THIS into the mix.

 Yes, that's a door mat. And yes, door mats are heavy. Duh. And yes, Southwest Airlines charges for obscenely heavy luggage. But I am smart! I broke out the digital scale in my bathroom and weighed my bag over and over till it was the appropriate 50 lbs! (That leaves the excess heavy stuff to go in my back pack because once again, I didn't have enough to strap to my body, what with the baby, food, formula, toys, bottles, water, diapers, etc....you get the picture.)

Okay, so I am apparently not that smart. And I am also in constant back pain since I've been home. But hey, she loved her door mat and isn't that what's important??

So the morning we flew out there was nothing to indicate there would be a problem, no poop filled red flags, but of course that's not how the Murphy's Law of motherhood works. Well, there was the night filled with crying, the unusually poopy diaper in the morning...oh and the 2 other poopy diapers before we left....but other than that, nothing unusual.

::face palm::

We finally make it to the airport, Rutherford helps with the extremely heavy and EXACTLY 50 pound bag (No bag fee baby! ::fist bump::), he sadly hugs and kisses his girls goodbye and off through security we go.

Our airport, fortunately and unfortunately, has a breeder lane. Fortunately, because we got to zoom past all the other sucka's waiting in the zigzag lines. Unfortunately, because I got to zoom ahead just to wait behind the family, with the screaming baby, the stressed out Mom, the confused grandparents (She's only going to ask you 1 more time to take off your shoes, Grandpa, before she taser's you), the pissy preteen with the attitude and the Dad who is ready to jump off the nearest bridge. Poor dude.

Let me show you how it's done, people.

I pop off the flip flops, take out the laptop, water/formula, throw the baby on the hip, kick the stroller closed with one foot and hop it on the conveyor...Like. A. Pro. I then sneak past the family from hell, give the Dad an "i feel ya, brother" look and  thru the xray I go....just to be sent back because Boogie has HER shoes on. Damn you Stride-Rite infant pre-walker shoe bombers!

Now here's where the weekend gets exciting...Picture this...

Boarding overly crowded, hot airplane with infant. Of course everyone sits on the aisle or window so there are a bunch of empty middle seats so I continue to walk towards the back of the plane when the flight attendant announces that the flight is packed so we all need to be civil and move our rears over to make room.

Just then a very nice woman moves to the middle seat and I ask if I can sit there. She says, yes, of course and even helps me with the worlds heaviest back pack as I get settled and grab a pre-made bottle for Boogie.

Now I don't know this but I am about to have, what will from then on be, the MOST awkward moment of my life because about 2 seconds after I sit down, the very nice lady then begins to FIGHT with her husband whom is sitting on the window.

Oh yeah. And not just the dirty look pissing match fighting that we all do with our other halves but the full on fighting.

Here's the best part: They are fighting about ME!

You read that right.

"I can't BELIEVE you let her sit there! She's got a BABY!"

"What did you want me to do? The flight is full!"

"But she has a BABY!"

"Be quiet, she can probably hear you!"

"She can't hear me!"

I can totally hear him.

They continue like this till, I kid you not, pretty much the entire flight. I finally lean over and tell him "I promise you, she's a very quiet baby!" ::awkward smile:: Then I give Boogie the don't-you-dare-make-a-noise death stare and pray she can read my mind.

He looks me right in the face and as sweetly as ever says to me, "Oh no worries! We LOVE kids! We have 2 boys at home and are thinking of having another once because we want a little girl like her!" Then gives his wife the nastiest look ever to which she says "Are you done yet?"

If he wasn't done yet, I sure was.

But wait! It gets better...

So now I'm sitting there, quietly BEGGING the kid not to make a sound, unless she wants to become a homewrecker before the age of 1...and then it happens.


Big.

Giant.

Poopy.

BLOWOUT.

Kill. Me. Now.

I've been there before, I know what I'm up against..just never been there in a square foot of personal space while wearing a cream poop covered shirt...so I, of course, freak out.

I immediately grab for the Diapees&Wipees, jump out of my seat and run for the back of the plane...not really noticing that we aren't really all the way in the air yet, still on that slow climb when walking around freely is not recommended...

Bitchy stewardess A: Um, the seat belt sign is still lit.

Me: Yeah I got that. ::lifts baby:: I'm full of poop can I please change her???

Bitchy stewardess A: Yes, sure, but the lavatory with the changing table is in the FRONT of the plane.

Now I'm the crazy woman with the baby running to the front of the plane with the seat belt sign still on.

Bitchy stewardess B: Um, the seat belt sign is still lit.

Me: Yeah, heard something about that already. ::lifts baby:: I'm full of poop can I please change her???

Bitchy stewardess B: Yes, I suppose, but use this bag and dispose of the diaper in THIS trash can. I don't want you DIRTY baby diaper in MY lavatory.

Me: But, I have my...

Bitchy stewardess B: I want you to USE MINE!

Me: Yes ma'am.

I'm not going to argue with her anymore, she's small but she looks like she can take me.

In what I can only imagine is the WORLDS SMALLEST BATHROOM, I give Boogie a sponge bath, wash her clothes, wash my clothes, PUT THEM BACK ON US, change her diaper and appropriately use Bitchy stewardess B's trash bag.

No, I did not pack a change of clothes in my carry on for Boogie.

::ducking for cover::

How was I supposed to know!!!??!?! She's almost a year old! It's a 50 minute flight! We NEVER have blowouts anymore!

The remainder of the flight went as expected. I used Boogie as a human shield, not wanting to show off the wet t-shirt contest that was going on with me, the couple continued to argue, I continued to hear them, I tried to keep a now very sick baby from crying, I tried to keep from crying myself and I just prayed.

A sick baby is no fun, but a sick baby 500 miles from home and on your own, is my little version of hell. Poor girl spent a good amount of time whining and wanting to be in my arms but we had a good time anyway. I did, however, change my flight to return home a day early. As soon as the shower was over I was packing my bags to get ready to come home. It would have been fun to stay and hang out with my BFF but it was more important to get that baby home and in her own crib.

The flight home was less exciting than the flight out which was just fine by me. I think by then I was just over it. Over poop, over people, over all of it.

Of course it started to POUR on the way to the airport which made unloading me, all my crap and baby, very interesting. We say our thank you's and goodbye's to the BFF, I get us checked in and through security only to find out my plane is now delayed almost 50 minutes.

Of course.

We decided to use this time to window shop since all of the little stores where you can buy all of the fun stuff that would keep a sick baby busy as you're waiting for your delayed flight...are now closed...except for 1. Thank the Lord....AND...they sell The Backyardigans beanie baby's!!

Boogie & Tyrone ready to go home.

Thank you, Baby Jesus, for small favors and Tyrone.

We have 2 more poopy diapers as we are touring the airport with our new friend and one just as we are boarding but I did remember to bring a change of clothes this time.

Saying we are so happy to be home is a total understatement and I don't see me doing that again any time in the near future but I learned a few lessons.

Lesson 1: Babies who are never sick will get sick as soon as it comes time to go somewhere in a plane.

Lesson 2: ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS take an extra change of clothes on a flight for everyone involved.

Lesson 3: Some people are just big ol bitches.