Get over my boobs.

What IS she doing?!?

I have no shame.  None at all.  If my son is hungry and needs a snack/ meal/ comfort/ whatever…I will give him what he wants.  More than not, that requires me to “expose” myself.

I do it gladly.  I do it without hesitation.  I do it without a cover.

I breastfeed.

My son isn’t screaming.  He is happy.  He will smile and wave at you when he is done with his “boba”.

He (generally) won’t make a fuss.  Nor, is he  “one of those damn toddler brats”.

But, somehow, what I do is “gross” and “disgusting” and should be kept away from public eyes.

I will “scare children” and cause “uncomfortable discussions”.

But, I do not care what you think.  Or, how my feeding my son is somehow not acceptable.  I will do it as long as I see fit.  And yes, when I nurse him (even in public) the world is shut out of my mind.  The only thing that matters is him, and what HIS needs are.

Let me tell you this: if you do not like, approve of what I am doing…don’t look.  Don’t criticize me for my parting choice.  I do not look down on you because you use formula.  Or that you choose to roll your eyes and impatiently try to deal with a temper tantrum of toddler proportions.

You do your thing.  And I’ll do mine.

Instead of looking at me and thinking to yourself: “Ugh.  Why is she doing that where everyone can see?”  You should probably ask: “Why does this matter to me?”  Maybe then people can understand to mind their business and stop focusing on my boobs.

Marriage: it’s between two people, not everyone else.

“The worst thing to happen to a marriage is to have it rain on your wedding day.”

As my luck would have it, it poured on July 8th, 2011.  Full on downpours, gusts and a general sense of “yuck”.  It didn’t matter how much rain could come down that day, I was marrying the man I love, the father of my child and the keeper of my secrets and heart.  Although it might not have seemed like I was over the moon…I was about to jump out of my skin from pure adrenaline and joy. I was getting married!  These are the dreams of my childhood.  And I was going to be his Mrs.  Could life get any better?

Fast forward a few months weeks:  we were slapped with a huge bill that needed to take care of immediately.  That put kind of a damper on our son’s first birthday, my birthday and the time from September to Christmas.  Just now we are finally getting our feet settled back in.  This bill completely wiped out our savings to move out of my in-law’s and to start our life as a little family.

Now that 2012 has started, I really want to start making plans to move out into our own place.  And to finally be “adults” in my sense of the word.  But, I have one little problem.  No one, including my husband, thinks we are ready.

*facepalm*

My DH’s family is incredibly involved in everything.  Between his parents and siblings (there’s 6 not including my DH) and nephews and nieces and cousins and aunts and uncles, everyone has an opinion and does not hold their tongues very well.  (Maybe that’s why I fit in so well….hmm.)  Which, can be helpful but usually does more harm than good.  My FIL and MIL especially don’t see my DH as a 30 year old adult, but their baby.  The last of the clan.

I see it as, he has a wife and a son he has to think of.  (And this is why I am a bitch.)

But for now, I can be patient and understand that my in-laws are actually helping us by letting us stay with them and pay our rent to them and try to save up money so when we do move out…it’s a permanent thing.  If only I can convince Dh that it is possible to move out and not fail.  And that’s when I have to be the wife.  Sadly for me, I am not good at being a wife yet.  But the only thing I need to worry about is rain on my wedding day, right?  I should be okay after that storm.

Margaritas aren’t my only friend.

Before I got pregnant, I enjoyed caffeine. A lot.  Maybe too much some times.  However, I wasn’t a big coffee drinker.  Gimme Coke…diet coke…Mountain Dew…but do not give me coffee.  Bleck.  It’s bitter and gross and tastes like hot mud.  But when I got pregnant, I didn’t want caffeine because it was one of those “no no” things.  But my biggest craving was coffee.  Sure, I could have had an occasional cup o’ joe.  I know me though.  I couldn’t stop at just one cup.  So I abstained.

“When I’m done breastfeeding, I might run out for some Starbucks!” I remember saying this in the hospital right after Lil Mohawk was born.  The nurse just laughed and said: “Yea, I give you 14 months before you’re a coffee addict.”  Needless to say, I don’t know how this nurse isn’t making millions reading palms and predicting futures.  I’m hooked on my coffee.  My wonderful Dh got me a coffee maker for Christmas, and it is litterally used every morning.

Sometimes, even in the afternoon.

Take this morning for example.  I (again) was pushed out of my bed due to a very wild toddler-that-refuses-to-sleep-in-his-own-bed.  No biggie.  I’ll just curl up on the recliner and sleep there.  Fast forward to 8am when I’ve been awake for almost 2 hours and now I need a jolt to get things going.  I make a whole pot (12 cups!) of my husband’s (fully caffeinated) coffee.  ZOOM.  I’m pretty sure I could taste sounds and hear touch.  This morning, I was more hyped up than my 16 month old.  This morning, I got things accomplished while my husband laid in bed saying “but I’m soooo-oooo-oooooooooooooo tired!” *insert eye roll here*

And while I’m normally a nagging bitch wife when he does things like this, I just kept my duties up.  His lack of motivation will not keep me from being a super wife and mom today!  Oh no, I will conquer today!!!

Now?  Not so much.  I am DRAGGING.  Now I remember why I didn’t drink caffeine much before.  I’m addicted to that jolt.  And as much as I want to hear my little coffee pot perkulate a fresh, steamy pot of dark black golden-ness…I can’t.  Eventually, I’m going to want to sleep and that’s not going to happen I’m hopped up on my new best friend–Coffee.

*Stands on Soapbox*

Attention every Parent, Grandparent, Auntie, Uncle, godparents, babysitter:

Your kid is having sex.  Normally, I don’t care how someone else parents their child, because it’s none of my business.  However, I don’t like hearing about a teen mom becoming a 30-something grandma.

Yup.  This woman was a 17-year-old mom and will be a 31-year-old grandma.

While normally, I would hang my head and say “That girl should have kept her knees closed” I can’t help but to wonder if maybe some of the blame should be on the parents as well.  I realize that kids are going to do whatever they want anyway.  And who knows, I may be eating my words in 15 years.  However, I can’t shake this.

I really do think that we need to start teaching our kids about sex earlier than before.  In my 8th grade sex education class, there was 3 people who were already sexually active.  And that was in a “hick” school.  Now that I live in the city, I’m pretty sure that number is higher.  As a society we are so focused on sex, but not SAFE sex and it bothers the hell outta this Momma!

I don’t understand how we can have billboards of sexually explicit content, but freak out when we need to give “the talk” to our children.  How backwards is that?  I was never taught by my parents about sex as I got older.  Except for, that I shouldn’t do it.  That is not enough.  Sooner or later, we are going to have an even bigger problem than what we have now.  And it’s a damn shame.

*Jumps off soapbox*

 

PS:  I should note that I am not generalizing all teen parents in this.  I know of many teen parents who have made an excellent life for them and their children.  I know that teenagers now do not always listen to their parents [did you listen to your parents when you were younger?].  And I realize that this is not true for all cases.  However, more often than not, teen pregnancy is done out of lack of education than anything else.

 

I must be a little crazy.

Well, after my rant last night about not having motivation, I kicked my butt into high gear.  My BIL is expecting his second child, and I decided that baby boy needs a handmade blanket.  And then I promptly asked 3 of my best internet buddies if they would like a blanket for their kids as well.  I figured…why not?!?  It’s not that hard to do. 

Bwahaha! I should have taken a head count first.  Or, at least realized, not everyone has one child and that’s it.  Nope.  I am making a total of 9 blankets.  One for the BIL, one for my little dude (cause, obviously I’m gonna make him one as well), three for my internet bestie up in Washington state, three for a friend in Florida and one to my girl in North Carolina.

And I should mention that even though I haven’t made these blankets yet, I already have a “pending” request after I get these 9 done.

Although I am making a lot of these at once, they are fairly easy to assemble.  One blanket would only take me two days complete.  It’s really not that hard.  But, I also have a little guy who likes to “help” mommy by sitting on the fabric, causing bunches and not fun stuff.  But he looks adorable when you say “oh what a big help you are!”

The things we do to grow our children’s ego.  But as for now, I need to go and relax my fingers.  I got half a blanket down, another 8.5 to go!

Slightly Obsessed and Not at all Motivated

Pinterest:  The word itself is crack to millions.  And I am one of them.

Hi, My name is Amanda…and I am addicted to pinterest.  At first, I caved to the peer pressure.  “Hey Amanda, have you heard about this new site?  Here, let me send you an invite!”  I didn’t think it was such a big deal.  I set up an account and promptly forgot about it.  Then, there was more buzz about the sheer awesomeness of this website.  So I log in (after trying to remember my password for like 10 minutes) and *boom* I’m hooked.  48 hours later, I’m up to 5 boards..one with 32 pins.

But, I can’t stop.

Oh no.  One does not simply “stop” pinning once they started.  That’s like quitting facebook cold turkey.  Hell, I rather quit cigarettes again before I am forced to quit pinning.  The crafts.  The pictures.  The food porn!  How can a mere mortal not cave to this?  So many ideas.  I. Must. Repin!

Atlas, despite my best pinning skills, doesn’t mean I will get a single thing done.  But it’s nice to dream that I will make the super cute purse I saw from an old sweater.  Or the awesome decals for lil Dude’s playroom.  Or the amazing chocolate cake that I saw this morning that once person actually said it was “so delicious she can finally cross having an orgasm off her bucket list”.  Now, that is some damn good chocolate cake.  I have all the intentions of actually doing these things.

Will they get done?  Probably not.  But then again, if I can stop pinning, I can do anything.

Glory (Feat. B.I.C)

Secretly, I love celebrities.  I’ll admit it!  I’m not super obsessed with them…but I have been known to waste more than a few hours watching E! or reading Prez Hilton.  Normally, what “celebrities” do have little effect on me.  Today, I was proved wrong with a song.

Last month I was told that I “shouldn’t” try to have any more children.  While the news was is devastating, I can somehow find some relief in the fact that I have been blessed already.  However, this doesn’t mean that I’m not bitter.  Suddenly, the world made just a little less sense.  While I choosing to keep silent about my news, shutting out the world of baby making friends isn’t so easy.  Everyday there is a new “OMG the stick is blue.  THINK PINK!!!!1!!!!1111” or “I can’t believe he’s finally here!” status, I fall a little deeper into a funk.  More so, because some of these women aren’t ready/deserving/prepared to have a child.  There are women who would literally give everything they have to be pregnant with a healthy child.  They would give anything to feel what it’s like to be a mother.

But I digress.

Lately there has been a whole new batch of celebrities spitting out spawn.  They’re showing off their bumps in ridiculous ways, acting like damn fools.  But every pregnant woman does that.  It’s a rite of passage.  (I say, own that bump!)  There was one that just rubbed me the wrong way.  Beyonce.

Even her name makes me cringe.  Beyonce.

I am not a fan of her husband’s.  I think she used the other members of Destiny’s Child to springboard her own career (and her father did as well).  I want to rip out that fake hair.  And I desperately want to see her wake up with a nasty flu and a sty in her eye with no makeup on because that woman is too damn gorgeous to be alive.

So, with all this buzz surrounding her reproducing and giving birth to Blue Ivy *shudder* I wanted to just boycott everything that might ever do with Beyonce/ Jay-Z/ Blue Ivy.

Until, I heard the song that Jay-Z made for his new daughter.

Now, the song didn’t change my life.  And it probably won’t make me a “B” fan, but it did make me respect them as a couple a little more.  The song details some very personal aspects of their life.  How they felt when they heard the lil Blue’s heartbeat for the first time…how they prayed that the baby would “stick”.  Also, to hear about something no woman should ever go through, a miscarriage.

So, Jay-Z and Beyonce, congrats on your new baby girl.  However, I personally don’t want to hear about you making any more babies anytime soon, kay?