The New Order of Disorder

I remember when I used to laugh at my friends who had kids. Toys everywhere, laundry piled up in corners, dishes in the sink...I swore I'd never let it happen. I also swore I'd never watch Jersey Shore, and well, you know. Thank God photos like this one exist to keep me from getting sucked down the rabbit hole of function over form. Loving everything from the use of concrete in the bath, to the gorgeous bed in the master, to the open windows in the living room. And oh, that clean kitchen. Check out the lady of the house all calm and collected with her beautiful scarf and what is sure to be a delicious cup of FRESH coffee. Watching me, judging, all "look at my nursery/guest room with it's fancy art and bare floors." Sigh.

(images via House to Home)

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Waddup, Yo?!

So yeah, I'm back, baby! Ish. Started working from home last week (ding) but working nonetheless (dong). I'm spending many, many hours trying to get back into the groove and shake off the rust and seriously, this shit is tough. Even though I'm around T-Kong all day and the hubs is currently playing Mr. Mom, I'm still having withdrawals and just can't seem to get my head into work. So while my day-job is again sucking my will to live, I've decided to make it my after-my-baby-passes-out job to figure out a job I love and will allow me more time at home. Any ideas? Positions currently being considered: professional chef, celebrity stylist, top-dollar interior designer, glass-blower, sommelier, brewer and photographer. Problems with said jobs include: burning toast, not knowing any celebrities, drinking my products, having shaky hands and no professional design training. Suck. Have I ever told you I dropped my design major in college because of the math requirements? Big. Fat. Mistake. If I could go back and do it again, I'd hire a tutor and make it work, because truth be told, interiors have always been my real passion. Don't get me wrong, I love me some written word, but if given the choice between choosing paint colors and choosing synonyms, I'll take the paint all day long. So yeah, anyone want to hire a professional writer/would-be designer with no training other than her good design genes and pleasant demeanor? Just checking.

Anyhoo, missed you, peeps! Let's do this thing.

(photo via Box of Crayons)

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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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Weekly Whiteout

I love a good blue and white stripe, especially against an all-white background. (Duh.) And seriously? Don't you think photos like this are proof enough that one doesn't ALWAYS have to make their bed?? I'm goin' with it. Now if only I could make not washing my hair this cool.

(image via Decor8)

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Unfinished Notes To My Unborn - #7

Baby Mc, you are due tomorrow, July 2. I don't feel any differently than I did yesterday, but the day is young. I just have this feeling though, that you're holding out for what you believe to be a more meaningful moment. Maybe a date dedicated to celebrations, BBQs, friends and family, and fireworks that fill the night sky with magic. Your birth, however, is reason enough to celebrate - we have waited to meet you for so long. I have thought long and hard over the past few months about all the things I want to tell you, the secrets I will share and the promises I'll make, and now seems as good a time as any to begin. My first vow to you is that no matter when you decide to make your first appearance, your birthday will always be my favorite holiday. Because you, little man, are the greatest gift we could ever dream of receiving.

Happy holiday weekend, friends. Here's to a starting out next week with a bang!

(photo by Sassy Bitch Ears)

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