Sup. I'm 6 Months Old.

And why yes, I sure am rockin' camo PJs. I also can't decide if I like sucking on my fingers or a pacifier, but it's cool. Don't try to box me in. A man's gotta have choices, ya know? In fact, I think I'll have some mashed squash AND peas today. 'Cause that's just the kind of rule-breaking, 6-month old badass I am.

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Photo Fantabulousness

Since the birth of T-Kong, I've done A LOT of things I said I never would. You know, like take my baby to a bar, rock a little spit-up like an accessory, let my living room be taken over by bright, shiny objects, and now...holiday photos. Not that I ever saw anything wrong with holiday photos, I just didn't consider myself a photo-on-a-card kind of gal. And then I saw Joanna Polling's site. Ummm, yeaaaa, she's the kind of photographer that makes me want to be a better person. As soon as I saw these shots of her own kids, I was suddenly overcome with the need to have as many photos of my own little guy as humanly possible. And then I needed to share those photos with anyone who cared enough to open the envelope. Lucky for us, Joanna not only fit us into her already busy schedule, but she was ridiculously patient AND didn't make me feel like a total ass while standing in the desert in my flip flops (smart) with my too-long jeans rolled up (seriously, who wears that to a photo shoot?). (Don't even get me started on how sweaty I was, by the way.) She even got my kiddo to smile despite his total exhaustion that day; an act of GOD I tell you. I could go on and on, but the moral of the story is that I can't thank her enough for how beautiful the shots turned out and how much we'll always cherish them, so instead I'm going to pimp her out from now until the end of time. So yeah, if you live in AZ, get on it already and contact her will ya? Sheesh.

PS-If you find a holiday card in the mail from me and we're not even that close, please accept my apologies. I blame the alien that seems to have taken over my body and turned me from dark and gloomy to sunshiny and gushy about all things babies, family and apparently holidays. Sigh.

(All images via Joanna Polling and her genius)

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4-Month Moves

Man, this place is dead today. Not a cub or a coug worth talking to up in this mix.

Oh wait, what's this? Well hellllo there, mamacita. Why thank you, I know I'm way more mature than my four-month age would lead you to believe. You're not so bad yourself. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, waddya say we crack open a bottle of the house's finest?

Seriously, what can I do to make this happen? I'm willing to do just about anything to close the deal.

Eeesh, sorry, I get a little grabby when I'm excited. Bad hands! I swear I'm a really nice guy. Even a bit of a mama's boy if you can believe it.

...no but seriously, how about that bottle?

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Who I Am Today

I am tired. I have a child whom, for whatever reason, suddenly doesn't feel like sleeping more than an hour at a time. I'm back in the office, facing 2-hour commutes, 3-hour meetings and impossible deadlines. I'm exhausted just getting dressed in the morning, let alone trying to juggle my work, my family and my friends. I'm overwhelmed with guilt some days while walking out the door...desperately trying to become a mother who works and not a working mother. I am the wife of a man who was laid off right before our baby was born and one-half of a couple in the midst of reevaluating priorities and responsibilities. I am trying to be thankful for his time with our son instead of jealous at my lack thereof. I am trying not to give myself a heart-attack and MS episode all at once. I am not as focused on happy hours, relaxing getaways, fabulous handbags and daily blog posts. I am dedicated to the happiness of a tiny little person, a loving relationship with my husband, combating my insurance company, and figuring out how to support our family while not working for The Man. I am trying to remember to breathe. I am terrified I will forget how. And then, in an instant, I am reading THIS article...

I am blessed. I am blessed. I am so very blessed.

(photo by Vivienne Ward)

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I Am 3 Months Old

And what I don't have in hair, I make up for with mad game and super rad style. Oh, and hand gestures. I love me a good hand gesture.

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Super Pumper

Scene
Vast wasteland of cubicles.

Mood
Bah.

Saga
Ongoing internal debate about the pros and cons of continuing to breast pump now that I’m back in the office.

Conversation about such saga with fellow mother/co-worker/friend
Me: “Pumping at work sucks, but…”
Her: …“it’s the most unselfish thing we can do for our children.”
Me: “Totally.”

For the record, I was about to say “but it burns so many calories.” Happy Thursday.

Love,
Selfish Mom

(Image via Davididaho)

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I Am Six Weeks Old Today

And developing quite a personality.

Carry on.

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Pump, Poop, Puke. Repeat.

Well hello there outside world! How you be?? Thought I'd drop in for a quick second to say hi and offer up some recent pics of Tyler and his many adorable faces. Oh, and his parents' faces, which don't happen to look nearly as relaxed as their offspring's. Please note that I seem to have developed excessive forehead wrinkles, homeless person brows and a lazy eye in the last few weeks. Think that will focus on or divert attention away from the fact that my eyes are also two different colors? Whatevs, I'm so tired I couldn't care less. My husband, on the other hand, would like the record to reflect that he has a widow's peak and he is not, I repeat NOT losing his hair. Mmmm hmm.

So yeah, this whole motherhood thing? H.A.R.D. Don't get me wrong, it's all kinds of amazing and I adore our little man more than I ever thought possible, but to all the peeps out there who told me it would be "cake" I say, go to hell. Thank you. I love you, but you're all big fat liars. What's been cake is choosing sleep over laundry, feeding the baby over feeding myself and washing my armpits with a baby wipe in lieu of, well, not. TMI? Without going into crazy detail, let's just say I have a whole new respect for my mom, for my hubs' mom who did this by herself at a very young age, and for anyone who's done this more than once. I'm just sayin'.

When I get more than a second to breathe, I'll tell you allll about the wonders and mishaps (I know you're excited). But for the moment I have a baby that needs cuddling and boobs that need pumping. That's right, no shame in my game. Mommy-among-the-mayhem...out.

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Tyler Michael

Peeps, I'd like to introduce our newest addition. Tyler Michael was born Friday, July 8th at 9:48 p.m. via c-section. "Why c-section?" you ask? 9 lbs., 14 oz. and 22 in. long, that's why. We're head over heels in love with our little "big" man, and the hubs already has him in training for the NBA.

I'll be taking some time off blogging for awhile, but wanted to share the news before I left you. Until we meet again, here's to long naps, short showers and the smell of newborn skin.

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Mama Mia

Considering I'm only a week away (we hope) from people taking ungodly photos of me in various gowned, moaning, groaning and pushing action shots, I thought it only right to post one of my mom in the same, ahem, position. Oh, and another in her super cool maternity wear. (She'll be thrilled to discover I was wearing nearly identical pants yesterday.) My dad sent these shots to me today and I was SHOCKED that I'd never seen them before. I honestly don't know what I love more...that my mom is rocking blue eyeshadow or that she brought her own retro pillow to the party. Also, please note the lips. Did you know that in addition to ballooning bums and boobs, pregnancy can also give you bee-stung smackers?? I did not, but I can assure you that I do now. The hubs has taken to calling me Thick Lips if that's any indication of what's going on up in here. And while YOU may not think my mom's lips justify a Jolie moment, just ask her collection of lip liners, glosses, and chapsticks - we are a normally thin-lipped crew, to be sure. I've always aspired to be like my mom, so I was thrilled to see the curse of the giant kisser is nothing more than a little case of "like mother like daughter." My new question, however, is whether it will be "like mother like son" with the birth of our baby boy? Because let's be real...I look PISSED in that last photo. Oye.

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