You Know You're a Mom When...Week of March 27

Ask and you shall receive! Each Sunday, I will do my best to share my “you know you’re a Mom when” list with you fabulous readers as part of a weekly read. May you delight in all the bizarre and unforgettable moments that marry to become the amazing world of motherhood. This week, you know you’re a Mom when:
1. You work three crazy days on the coast then elect to pack up quickly and take two airplanes to get home at 2 a.m. just so you can hear the sound of your baby’s breathing, take in his smell and share space with him just a half-day earlier.

2. You’re on day….day….hell, everyday you’re wearing a ponytail despite your efforts to attend your eight-week routine of cut and styles.

3. You share smiles and secret glances with any kiddo and/or his Momma nearby.

4. You’ve been to Target eight times this week but still managed to forget the milk and bread.

5. You share your most heartfelt life secrets with the Mom and her adorable three-year old next to you on a long flight. After all, she gets it, right?

6. You starting writing “try to hold conversation with husband” on your to-do list.

7. You begin singing Michael Jackson songs as lullabyes because they are the only words top of mind at four in the morning.

8. The dog hasn’t been walked in three weeks. Did I mention the vet just said she had to lose nearly 20 pounds???

9. You know all the convenient hot spots in town. Meaning you know all the comfortable, private places to nurse in public locations besides your car.

10. Your heart expands in a million places to accommodate the growing unconditional love, amazement and undying passionate you have for your little being.

He's Happy and He Knows It

“Is he doing what I think he’s doing???” I half-whisper, half-squeal to Mike from across the room, working hard not to destroy the magical moment that was potentially happening mid-way between the two of us. “Oh yeah – he did that once earlier…he may have started while you were out of town,” Mike says nonchalantly, averting his gaze back to one of the ten thousand basketball games that were on this week.

Shaking my head at the lack of excitement that tends to belong to the male species when it comes to babies mastering milestones, I wait patiently and quietly, craning my neck to watch Lawson in his “alone play time” encouraged by his teachers and parenting magazines. After a few moments of the wait and see charade, I see him thrust out his elbows, spread his tiny little fingers and bring them together, back and forth, back and forth. Little echoes of claps travel across the family room, Lawson’s brow furrowed with concentration and his skin sticking together with drool and leftover squash. Working it as if it were his nine to five, he did it over and over again with the kind of determination seen only in the finest of Olympic athletes.

“Buggggyyyy – I’m so proud of you!” I say, enveloping him in my arms and showering him with dozens of tiny kisses, hoping the positive reinforcement would encourage the little guy to keep up the antics. “Yaaaayyyyy!” I say as he shares his secret trick for me, our eyes locked, his searching mine for acceptance and acknowledgement of this new feat. And so we continue, over and over again, the simple art of clapping and I feel my heart expand even more in places I didn’t even know I had.



He’s happy. He knows it. He claps his hands.

Way to go buddy – we love you.
Video available as soon as we figure out how to download the darn things

If Oprah Can Have Her Favorite Things...

I can too, right???

“It’s here! It’s here!” I shriek to Mike as he saunters up the driveway lugging our household trashcans behind him with a look of confusion lining his face. “What’s here?” he says, thinking that maybe Ed McMahon had come out of retirement and brought us that million dollar check that would get us back to PV (and help out a great charity of course). “The Nordy’s glossy of the quarter!” I say with self-admittedly too much glee. “Oh brother…” grumbles Mike, tackling a sleeping Lawson and retreating to his man cave to escape the ten minutes of ooohhiinnng, aaawwwiinnnggg and dog earing of pages that was about to occur. “You realize this is the only time you actually read and relax anymore, don’t you?” Mike says from afar, his eyes still lit with a bit of disbelief. “Uh huh…” I say, already lost in the glow of the pages, the touches of spring, the perfectly marketed and font appropriate the company pays way too much for to send to suckers like me. So now, I ask of you dear reader, to join me on this superficial journey just for a second as a way to escape from the madness of the day and enter into fake retail therapy. Come, browse the March 2010 Nordstrom catalog with me, won't you? It's sure to be fun!

- Cover: love! You’re right Nordy’s – accessories ARE my friend. Especially when just yesterday I went shopping for a cutesy KU shirt and found that most of the girly, creative ones barely covered my tat tas. I went home with a sparkly Jayhawk tattoo that was just perfect on my chunky cheekbone. Accessories – they always fit. Love the font, the silver, your branding and of course the chunky cocktail rings. Oh – and I also agree with your statement of “there’s no such thing as too many.”

- Page 3A: Two points for you, Nordy’s, for using three of my favorite words: “instant” “happiness” and “bffs.” We’re totally speaking the same language. And love the aqua basket tote. Yes please.

- Page 5a: affirms my love for crazy colored watches and totally justifies the 3 pink, two white and one purple I have laying in my jewelry drawer right now. Because as you state, it’s “really hot right now.”

- Page 6a: Bracelet – yes please. Been longing for a friend like you. Please unearth my hippie spirit just in time for spring.

- Page 7a: gotta disagree with you on this one Nordy’s b/c of my personal baggage. If I could actually squeeze those bangles on my big ol’ wrists, I’d be with ya more to say “if you can see your wrists, you nee more bangles.” Oh, I can see my wrists all right…and there ain’t no way those bangles are fitting them anytime soon unless I get my hiney in gear.

- Page 16a: cross body bags – thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing these back just in time for me to have a 6-month old. Now I can be a hip AND smart Momma.

- Page 19a: I’m so glad you’re obsessed with big, colorful scarves. They sure come in handy when I’m having a milk moment at work and need the perfect cover up.

- Page 29a: the featured flower ring is something I wear often and either get “wtf were you thinking” stares or comments like “I wish I could wear that.” I’m still trying to understand what that really means. You can sister, you can! Regardless, love, love, love the flower ring and the great news is, I don’t have to keep it alive with water.

- Page 33a: yes please – for at least $150 less.

- Page 36a: I’ll have one of each. To go.

- Page 43a: have it – in pink. Katie has the white. Wanna join our cult?

- Page 49a: if I ever go back to wearing perfume, aqua sparkly spritzer – you will be mine.

Thank you, Nordy’s marketers, for making my day with this Saved by the Bell moment timeout. Now, time in – back to reality. Work, saving money and lovin’ on the fam. That still beats your glossy anyday. Mwah!

Red Light, Green Light - Don't Forget to Count Life's Gifts Tonight!

The car was silent except for the low hum of the motor, the stillness of our western, suburban neighborhood enveloping our little family on a warmer than usual Sunday afternoon. Lawson and I shared a pinkie grasp, talking quietly to one another and sharing gazes that only a Mother and son can do that makes all the world feel right. Daddy’s up front, staring softly into the intersection, humming along to the latest pop song that sang lightly out of the 4Runner’s speakers up front. It was the kind of Sunday you dreamed of – full of nature’s finest moments, a romp in the park with the family and just the right amount of time in the fresh air that made one feel like his/her authentic self again.

Sharing a loving glance with Mike in the rearview, we spoke to each other through our eyes, the sides crinkling and marveling at our amazing son, the stillness of the day and relishing in the moment. Our moment was shattered when the ear-piercing screech of tires, metal scraping along cement and hard crashes filled with just the right amount of white space to indicate a rollover crash flooded our once peaceful environment. Cursing, I watched as Mike’s knuckles turned paler, his face soon to follow as it drained from the reality of what was happening right in front of us. There, in the middle of what most days felt like nowhere, a car-on-car massacre was occurring, a large SUV rolling and tumbling like a piece of trash tossed into the highway wind. Unable to peel our eyes from the emotion and impact of what was happening, our mouths hung open in horror, our hearts leaping out of our chest and our call to a higher power overwhelming taking over. Moments passed, 911 was dialed, bodies streamed out of cars rushing to assist as airbags deployed, glass falling like confetti among the broken metal and shrouds of grass kicked up by the crash. It was unreal. Surreal. A matter of moments. Going no more than 10 miles per hour.

As the shriek of sirens filled the intersection and thumbs up signs were given by strangers who had leaped out to lend a hand, check on the driver and do the right thing, I finally began to feel air fill my lungs again. Though my heart never caught up until late that evening, I paused to recognize my basic bodily functions begin flowing as they were intended to do. And with this came the tears – the tears that indicated life is short. Tears that reminded me that every moment is precious, and the next filled with so many “I don’t knows.” Tears that very quickly identified what was important to me in life and brought to existence the reality of someday I may have to cope without them. Tears that meant every moment should feel this way – that it’s sickening to have to witness such a tragic event to break into the walls and monotony of life to remind us that today, right now, we are really living. This is it. Today. This moment. Love it. Live it. Cherish it. Nothing else matters. Red light or green light – count life’s blessings tonight.

Embrace life. Always wear your seat belt. And by the way – consider taking Oprah’s no phone zone challenge too. It just might help you at your next red light, green light awakening.

Take a Mommy Moment...

And join me, will you? First, grab the Kleenex. And the vodka. Your heart and mind are going to need both after experiencing these two magical pieces from the Mommy world:




a.) For Moms Who Work Outside the Home

b.) Mom 2.0: Defining a Movement

You Know You’re a Mom When…Week of March 15

1. The hottest spot you’ve been to in a month is the doctor’s. Running tally – three times in March already. You begin counting Moms vs. Dads taking their children there and start feminist marches in your head.

2. You set a new rule that you will only change your clothes and baby’s three times before 8:00 a.m. If this means donning your darling new cute purple, silky, ruffly top with a milk stain and getting odd stares from co-workers, so be it. At least you stuck to a commitment.

3. You run into day care and announce your “worst Mom of the week” award as your child is still in the same diaper from 9 p.m. the night before and his jammies that are caked with squash…but you still do scout’s honor to never wake a sleeping baby.

4. For just a split second, you secretly think being sick yourself rocks because it gives you an excuse to lose your Mommy title, curl up in bed at 7:30 p.m. in the clothes you wore and let Daddy manage all the duties…just for this night.

5. A rectal thermometer becomes more of your day-to-day than you’d ever care to admit. Not for me sicko – for the baby!

6. You spaz out that someone else is pregnant and freak out with happiness they are joining the club. Another one bites the dust – and understands!

7. You begin to flash innocent strangers without a care in the world if it means pacifying your hungry one. Stare all you want – they’ll look a lot better when I’m done having kiddos and get them fixed up.

8. The only room in your house that’s clean is the nursery. Justification – that’s where the love goes and he could leap out of his crib any day now.

9. You find yourself doing a jig anytime, anywhere just to see that smile.

10. Your heart expands in a million places to accommodate the growing unconditional love, amazement and undying passionate you have for your little being.