My Hero

I adore the heroic men out there.  They truly are knights in shining armor.  They willingly engage in this battle with female emotions, fighting side by side with the woman they love to defeat the Hormonster.  Here is the epic tale of my hero, Sir Brandon...

Once upon a time, there was a noble knight named Sir Brandon.  While walking (manly) through an enchanted forest, he came upon a beautiful (and humble) princess named Louisa.  He fell madly in love with her charm and grace and asked her to marry him and be his forever.  Unbeknownst to the gallant lad, an evil witch had placed a vicious spell on the princess.  Every so often, during times of distress, the princess would be overcome with an attach of the Hormonster. 

This vile beast could appear at any moment and would wreak havoc on the unwitting lady.  As her champion, Sir Brandon would strike, blade flashing and help battle against the evil Hormonster.  Though the beast continues to appear, it shrinks in terror of the brave prevailing defense of the knight. 

Thanks to my champion... my brave husband...

Check out the gallery of hot pics of my man!!!

Yes, ladies... he is mine

He swept me away on our 80's Prom Date

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday Night Lights event at church

Proud Papa Bear to baby Colton

Normal Emotional v. Crazy Emotional

When my husband and I got married, I invited him on a lifelong trip on the seas of my emotions.  Sometimes, it is a pleasure cruise.... the sun is shining and birds are pulling a Mary Poppins and singing in harmony.  Other times, it is a tsunami of tears and anxiety tossing the S.S. BJ from wave to wave.  Let's put it this way... there is never a dull moment in the Estroland.  Unfortunately for my precious husband, pregnancy and motherhood has made this trip a little more bumpy than normal.

Here is an example of a little "pleasure cruise" we went on last week...

My mother was cooking a birthday dinner for me and I had just put my darling son down for a nap when I called to ask when we should come over.  Are you ready to enter my stream on consciousness?

• My mom said to come over NOW (anxiety level 1:  should I disappoint my mom and be late or wake my son?)
• My grandpa and his girlfriend were invited to the dinner (anxiety level 2: now I can possibly disappoint a 90 year old man by being late)
• We arrive late and everyone has eaten but my dad (anxiety level 3: great, happy birthday to me)
• My son starts wailing (anxiety level 4:  I am a terrible mom and can't control my child)
• I am holding back tears while eating my burritos (anxiety level 5: everyone will think I am nuts)
• I end up sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing while my parents and grandpa watch a documentary about death with the volume level set to a billion, cause they are all deaf (anxiety level 5: I am nuts)

I now have to ask myself, am I acting Normal Emotional or Crazy Emotional?  Here is the litmus test:

• Normal Emotional:  You drown your sorrows in a pint of Ben & Jerry's and watch Sense and Sensibility.
• Crazy Emotional:  You cry your eyes out on the floor of your mother's kitchen on your birthday.

New Baby+ Normal Emotional = Crazy Emotional

Christmas Cards

Christmas cards have always been a mysterious phenomenon.  The simple traditional folded card is a relic of the past.  Now, most folks make a photo Christmas card.  For the really motivated individual, there is the yearly family newsletter (props to you all with enough time and energy to summarize your entire past year).

I have always been surprised by the pictures some people choose for their cards.  Some make me wonder, "Did you lose your glasses the day you were supposed to choose your Christmas card picture?" or "Did you remember about Christmas cards on December 20th and this was the only one you could find?"

Now that I have a family of my own, and trying to capture that "perfect" picture has become a reality.  Now I realize that you choose the picture where your kid is not crying or the one picture that did not cause you and your spouse to get a divorce. 


 Talk about joyous holiday cheer... Witness the "holiday cheer" we subjected our son to....

 

Merry Christmas Colton

Ahhh... the holidays

I have always loved the holiday season.  Before I was married, there was always a sad day rain cloud that threatened the season because I was always trying to "fit" into the rest of my families' lives.  My older siblings were married and had children, and for me it was so simple to hop into my car and simply slip deftly into the chaos of the greater family unit.  I was a nomadic gypsy who could sleep on a couch or cram myself into the back cargo area of a Tahoe.  Life was simple...

However, now being married and having a baby, we have created our own nest and trying to fit our little family into the bigger order becomes more of a challenge.

Who would have thought that you would need to bring so much luggage for three day of vacation?  I mean, Colton is only 16 lbs, but I have to bring a metric ton of gear to pacify my little dumpling.

• one sleeper per day + an additional sleeper for each day in case of midnight blowouts
• at least three outfits/ day in case of midday blowouts
• 150 diapers for above blowouts
• sock that coordinate with each outfit option
• long sleeve onesies in case it is cold
• short sleeve onesies in case it is hot
• a light weight blanket (Christmas in Texas!)
• an heavy weight blanket (yet again it is Texas)
• chew toys (yes, my son sounds like a dog)
• 18 pacifiers (these puppies disappear like crazy)

After you pack your bags, then comes the paraphernalia to entertain your child:

• bouncy chair
• portable swing
• pack n play
• sleep mat

Now my personal luggage has diminished to a backpack and I am lucky if I remembered to pack underwear for myself, but my son will have enough diapers to last him until his 16th birthday.

Gone are the days when you could pack up and be ready to go in 1/2 an hour.  Now it takes 5 hours of planning, 2 hours of packing, 1 hour of putting everything in the car and 30 minutes to turn around and go back to the house for the items you forgot.

Ahhh.. the holidays

Mommy Never-Never Land

The learning curve for a new mom is definitely a double D cup size...  The amount of new information is astounding and I am learning things every day.  But in the goulash of information,  there are some things I am learning to never-never do or say now that I am a mom.  Just some examples to name a few:

Never-Never....
1.  Ask another mom when their infant slept through the night-  First of all, no one tells you that "sleeping through the night" is really only about 5 or so hours.  I was about to put ashes on my head and wear sack clothe and gnash my teeth before I realized that my precious son had been sleeping through the night after his first month.  I was expecting a 12 hour stretch to occur and when all the other moms around were saying how their baby had slept through the night.  I was shaking my fist at the sky and wondering why my kiddo was so nocturnally challenged.

2.  Put on your old jeans within the first five months after giving birth-  This is a no brainer.  But we get postpartum vision where we feel as if we have shed 100 lbs and therefore have blinders as to the reality of our figure.  A little advice:  As soon as you get pregnant, take all your cute jeans and box them up and have your best girl friend bury them in the backyard; don't let her give you the shovel until you get back into the same stratosphere as your pre-pregnancy weight.  Hopefully you will just forget about the jeans and live out the rest of your life in ignorant bliss.

3.   Wear your actual outfit for the day before noon-  I never wanted to be that new mommy who looked at the clock at five o'clock and realized she was still wearing her pajamas, so I always try to actually get dressed in the morning (or if you just put a cardigan on over your pajamas, it kind of gives the impression of getting dressed.  This is the dress equivalent to throwing the quilt up over the unmade bed).  However, every time I actually get dressed in the morning, the inevitable "Old Faithful" erupts from my son's mouth.  I always wonder how so much liquid can come out of such a small baby.  A little advice:  Fake out the spitup... wear an outfit you really don't like and trick your baby into thinking you are dressed for the day.  Then, when the geyser begins, you can just laugh to yourself because you know you hated that dress anyway.

4.  Leave the house without checking out your back in the mirror-  In reference to the above posting, 9 times out of 10, I will be strutting my stuff out in public and will catch a glimpse of my back in a window or mirror and will see the "trail of tears" cascading down my back.  Oh, yes... that little track of spit up that begins at the top of your shoulder blade and trails all the way down your lower back... and even down your calf if you are lucky.  Always check out your back before you leave your house.

Admit it...We all loved the story of Peter Pan... you all wished you were Tinkerbell, thought Captain Hook was a bit dreamy, and Wendy a bit persnickety... but come on people.  It ain't cool to live in Mommy Never-Never Land.

Honda Element + Polly

I love my mom.  She is the most energetic mother and grandmother I know.  Here are some of my favorite things about my mom:

1.  Dyed our milk with food coloring for special occasions.
2.  Made shapes out of our pancakes... sometimes spelling our names.
3.  Read books to us at night and inevitably always mispronounced the names of the characters so that when I grew up and read the books myself, I was miserably confused... thinking I was reading a completely different story.
4.  Tap dances in an old lady dance troupe.
5.  Has never made toast without burning it to a crisp.

And my latest favorite mom moment:  

My family was playing car roulette, trying to fit 8 people and four car seats into two automobiles.  I could not deny my sweet niece when she came dragging her booster seat to the Element and wanted to sit with us.  With she and Colton and their car seats strapped into the back of the Element, there was only room for my dad and me in the front seat.  Polly (my mom) was left out in the cold.

That did not deter Polly; that 62 year old woman climbed into the back of the Element and laid down on the floor of the back seat and stayed that was for the entire trip... Must be that good German stock...

Strike Two for the Element

The Honda Element

Despite the fact that I was born and raised in Austin, Texas and that my mom votes Democrat, that is where my Austin Granola tendencies end...  We grew up in a good ole' SUV family!!  Even though we shook our fists in furry at the gas pump every time we filled up our gas guzzler, it did not deter us from always owning some ginormous SUV.

We have some snobby tendencies in our family... we always looked down our nose at two things... 1) poor house architecture and 2) minivans.   But now that I have a child of my own, those minivans are looking pretty appealing (and I can't believe those words have sneaked their way out of my mouth).

BJ and I have the cool equivalent to the minivan... or at least we thought... in our Honda Element.  From the outside, it looks like a great compromise.  Large back seat area to move around and lock your kids into their car seat.  Big doors that open out opposite each other for a great space to access the back seat.  It seems wonderful.... little did I know the pitfalls...

Let me take you back to last Sunday. 

Last Sunday we decided to take Colton to the nursery for the first time.  Pridefully I thought that since we worked at the church that our son would take to the nursery quite well.  I don't know if it is that our son is still only 2 1/2 months old, or that he just loves his mommy, but he did not last long in the nursery.  After my second page, and one screaming child later, I decided to take him home.

I hung my head in defeat and I held back tears as I walked to the Element.  Unfortunately our church is a little skimpy in the parking space department.  I trudge to the car and saw that there was a mere foot of space in between my car and the two cars on either side.  Now, let me remind you, you cannot access the back seat unless both car doors are FULLY open.  There was absolutely no way I could get into the back seat of my car.  I had to choose the lesser of two evils and went to the driver side (being that it had 6 more inches of space than the passenger side.

I was able to squeeze my body, with my son clutched to my chest, into the front seat on my knees.  I then had to inch slowly, crawling on my knees over the console and into the back seat.  Then, football holding my now ballistic child in one hand and dragging the car seat into position with the other, tried to buckle him in.

Needless to say, I was hysterically crying at this point, cursing the Honda gods.  Misery must love company because Colton stopped crying and fell asleep as soon as I was wailing like a little weenie baby. 

A new plan has formulated in my brain.... park in the farthest spot available in any parking lot and scatter shards of glass and rusty nails in the surrounding spots, to insure enough room to actually get my child into the car.


Lesson Learned: 
Honda Element = Great Car
Honda Element + Car Seat = Headache
Honda Element + Car Seat + Careless Parking Neighbors + Crying Child = Shoot me in the face....