SO you are becoming a Mommy...: Living in NYC

SO you are becoming a Mommy...: Living in NYC: People who don't live in NYC tell me how "awesome" or "incredible" it must be to live and raise children in NYC. I...

Living in NYC

People who don't live in NYC tell me how "awesome" or "incredible" it must be to live and raise children in NYC.

It's not.
Notice, most people leave the city when they have kids, and very few people move in to the city once they have had children.

The reason is that you have to be semi nuts or completely out of your mind to raise children here.

Think about this, when you run out of a few things that you need from the market, you probably walk or drive to a nearby market and pick up what you need. So the same thing happens to me. Except, I have to go to a market I share with a zillion people living in abnormally small places that cost a lot and these people are pissed about it. They will literally run you over, hit you with a baguette or curse you out.

Your post office? For some reason NYC has a real shortage of them. So when you go, you are guaranteed a line that's a mile long and two people at the counter who are inevitably miserable.  I guess they are surprised employment in a post office is not fun? I don't know why. But, I avoid post offices at all costs. Need to mail something? Oh well, I'll see the recipient soon enough.

We have an insane amount of banks, so you don't mind going to one.  Chase alone has 4000 in a 10 block radius. If you're going to the bank and see a line, leave quickly, because the bank is getting robbed. We don't have lines at banks.

School? We have a variety. But even our public ones require applications. Everything here requires an application. I'm pretty sure somewhere along the way I filled one out to be oermitted to have a BM on this island.

So you're wondering where I've been the last three months...
Let's dive deeper in the polluted Hudson and examine.....

Modern martial arts

I was up most of last night thinking how to reintroduce myself, but then I knew, I didn't have to. Summer is a beautiful season and one to be with family.
It's been a blast and a blessing and, as always, a lesson.

I'll spare all the info, but I will say, my son, my only, who I helpicopter, got lost.
At a camp.
A day camp.
And they won't refund.

So, I'm writing because this camp is a business.

MMA of NYC, with several locations, took my child on a NYC bus without an "ok" because they sent the day itinerary to an email that was not mine.

A friend in the neighborhood was on the same bus as my son, took a picture and sent it to me.
Worst part, he could not find his group and was lost.

Disaster.

Even better, the girl that works at the desk, will not, since July, try to refund over $1300.00 remaining back.

But I can use it for more camp.

Hahahahaha.

It's a riot at this point.

Wishing them the best.
Please pass along.

I Survived my Mother In Laws Visit

Its a total cliche. I am a daughter in law who does not get along with her mother in law.

BFD.

This is not shocking, unique, or interesting.  

They say that men marry women who have similarities to their mothers. My poor husband must have meant to marry someone else that day and was too drunk to realize it was me, since this lady and I could not be more opposite. 

She was born in the country, I, in the city.  She's a nurse, I'm a beauty/fashion/media contributor.  She's tall and I'm short. I could go on. But you get the point. Nothing alike. 

Anyway, she announces in May that she's coming to visit June 16th in her RV and we are supposed to drop everything because she decided to visit. 

Past experience tells me that this visit will be a pain.  It's especially dicey because the visit is over Father's Day and my Husband's birthday.  It's also the start of my son starting summer vacation, so our schedule changes quite a bit. 

Bluntly speaking, it's not the right time for a visit. 

I had an unforeseen family circumstance occur on my side of the family that I had to tend to, so I was less available mentally, physically and emotionally this time around. 

Each mother in law visit has the same story.  My MIL insults me and I responding to the insult with

something crass and we have an argument. 

I can't live that way anymore.

Over the last two years I've "cleaned out" my mental place of situations and people that cause me harm. It's been a very healthy process. In order to continue in that spirit, I had to figure out how to manage this woman. 

My strategy was complex, but doable. My goal was going to be the best prize fighter of all time. It was my chance to be the daughter in law version of Sugar Ray Robinson.

I entered the ring, or in my case South Street Seaport, for a boat ride and early dinner. 

She gossiped about people's wives (which I can not stand.)  

She repeated sentences two and three times that she thought would get a rise out of me.

She undermined me as a parent and asked my five year old to go camping with her, (she knows the answer is "no.")

Sugar Ray Robinson said nothing. 

I was a prize fighter on defense ducking, blocking, and tucking.  

But she would get no jabs from me. 

My Husband was shocked by the match. 

I even gracefully handled my son blowing me up when he told my MIL that, "mommy said the dinosaur structure you sent me was stupid and threw it out."

She had one in her hand reminding him of the wood chips that were all over our apartment. I asked
her to put the one in her hand together and she quickly saw my frustration.

I think we have both grown, but I can only speak for myself. 

I've learned in two years of cleaning out mental and emotional clutter that other people's problems can not become your problems.

I can't change this woman.  No matter how much I talk back or argue I'm powerless to make her change.  

What was empowering was that I could change myself and my way of handling the situation. I was strong enough to handle every verbal punch thrown at me with grace and dignity. 

I also had my lawyer put in writing that my son is never allowed to go camping with this woman. 

Just to avoid any future confusion. 

How do you raise children here?!

Id like to say "I get this question a lot" in a good way, but I'd be lying.

I'm asked by people who come to visit me in the city with children in tow, "how do you raise children here?!"

Those asking usually have dark circles under their eyes with frazzled wind blown hair and bags of American Doll and Disney Store items. 

I know this look well. It's a cross between frazzled, worried and confused. I call it "Frarriedused."

The answer is, "the hell if I know."

Raising kids anywhere is tough. Raising kids in NYC is like a contained circus that brings in wild jungle animals to stir things up.  

I have cried. 

Because I have been that tired. 

Garbage trucks at 4:30am wake your children. Even if you live on a high floor. Even if you have a sound machine. 

My son gave up his nap at 18 months because my building was rebricking outside our apartment unit.  The building did not provide notice so I did not make alternate arrangements. Out of nowhere we heard sudden loud drilling and a bunch of men outside my living room window. Followed by a baby crying. A baby who would never nap again. 

An added element to living in NYC is being in front of people all of the time.  It makes child rearing in NYC a touch more stressful. My son doesn't pitch a tantrum in the back of a car. He does it on a street corner.  

Taking your four year old child to pre-school on the NYC bus becomes entertaining when your child begins to pole dance while singing Old McDonald Had a Farm. 

People don't find it amusing or cute at 7:30 in the morning. 

I often feel like I'm juggling cats. 

Getting strollers through doors, down and up steps and in and out of subways becomes an Olympic sport.  Putting babies in cabs, while cars around you beep and beep and people wave with the middle finger make you not want to leave your block. 

Like anything else, you figure it out. 

So how do I raise my child here? I just do. I pray a lot for safety. I pray for sanity. 

I just keep going. 

What we need to stay alive

Today concluded my sons pre-k experience and his portfolio is very impressive. In this portfolio he shares some thoughts that I wish to pass on to you.

Q: What do we need to stay alive!
A: "Eat spaghetti and meatballs because that will help if you're in the ocean you might die and if you eat you won't die."

We are Italian American and I am glad that I've instilled the value of spaghetti and meatballs making everything in the world better.

Q: What do you like to do with your family?
A: I like to eat chickens with them.

Great.
All the baseball, wrestling, shows, museums, vacations, martial arts....
But eating chicken really made an impact.

Happy official start of summer!

Our first embarassment

I embarrassed my son for the first time yesterday.

I'm not proud of it.

But, when I think of what a loose canon I am of ridiculous behavior, I have to give him kudos for being able to go this long without being embarrassed by me.  I mean, this is a child who sits in the back seat while I rap to the milkshake song and he never said boo about that.

The guy must have a thick skin.

We were at the playground and one of his friends was eating a rice Krispy treat. Naturally since I have "7-11" tattooed somewhere on my forehead that only I can not see, my son came over and looked in my purse for one.  I did have mini muffins and he was content with that offer.

Here's where things went south.

Because he was touching all the grossness on the playground, and didn't wipe his hands all that well with the wipe I gave him, I did something I have done a zillion times.

I opened the bag and attempted to put a mini muffin in his mouth so that he wouldn't touch the muffin:

"Don't feed me!"

This was said in a whisper through clenched teeth and was followed with:

"Don't feed me! I will feed myself over there with my friends!"

My response, "oh, ok I was just trying to help."

His response, "don't."

Yikes.

So I guess we are approaching that point where I'm a drag and he's awesome and knows everything. Whatever.

Kids don't understand, nor would want to think that their parents used to be fun.  Before I was saying things like, "did you poop?" Or "why is this sticky?" I actually was a fun, dare I say, carefree person.

But the winds of change are blowing and now I'm tasked with raising an adorable, although recently sassy little person, who on occasion I'll embarrass and drive nuts.  I'm not going to start twerking on the playground or anything, but I can see how chasing him with spray sunscreen and making him wear hats that look like that of a bee keeper would get on his nerves.

We are going to keep on trucking and get through this journey ok and hopefully without too much time spent in therapy.

Sprinkler Season...

Welcome to Sprinkler Season in New York City, or as I like to call it, "Communal Childrens Shower Season."

I'm a germaphobe and I'm able to admit it.

The great outdoors and I have never been great buddies, unless it's a beach with white sand and crystal blue water.

Sadly, that is not what I have access to raising a little one in the hustle and bustle of the Apple.

Yesterday, we hit the playground and true to form, my son jumped right in to the ice cold sprinklers. Things were going well until I ended up joining him fully clothed to fill up some water balloons.

Things got hectic at this point. He did keep his water shoes on for a while, so my worry about fungus was calmed for a little while.

Three hours later, I was able to peel him out of the sprinklers. He was covered in icy water and sand.  A young child's version of a tar and feather exercise.

But he loved it.

When he's happy, I'm happy.

So sprinklers, carry on. We will be back.

Do I home school my son because the hours of drop off and pick up suck?

I know that the hours of the school day are not a compelling reason to home school.

I also know that my living in the northeast in a city that has schizophrenic wear on a good day is not a reason to stay in my apartment.

But the ideas still cross my mind.

Schools are a HUGE topic amongst residents of NYC who choose to raise our children in a city that has been called "an amusement park for adults," although I am not amused by it most of the time.

NYC has so much to choose from and so many people want to take a bite out of this "Big Apple" that at times I feel I'm best off sitting under the blanket with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolate, but I know that won't help, so I persevere.

First off, I lived through figuring out where to send my son to school.

Twice.

The first time I joined in on the fun activity of school applications was for pre-school. It felt like a balancing act of insanity wrapped up in a big bow of crazy. My son was in the 18 months old range; that age can be really unpredictable (duh.).

My role as Mom in the family interview process was that of a spiritual leader of sorts. I sent all sorts of hopes, wishes and prayers to the universe that my son would not poop in his pants. I also wished and hoped that my husband would not say anything stupid.
We went to our scheduled appointments and play dates and found a school that we loved. My son spent the following three years participating in the 2's, 3's and pre-k program.

Once the Pre-K year began I found myself immersed in elementary school tours, both public and private. Our current private Pre-K was a school that went on through high school, so our current school was a serious contender. We were happy, our son was thriving, so why rock the boat?

We "applied out" to a few all boys schools, to my Husbands discontent. His worry was our son would not have "game" and needed to have lady time in and outside of school.
*note my reference above to my worry about my Husband saying something stupid.

Our current private school became our co-Ed school option, should we choose single sex, we had some applications out and our public school, which is very well respected in performance remained on our radar.

Many sleepless nights later and much to the shock of many, we are attending our zoned public school in the Fall.

I can not tell you the number of personal choices that this decision entailed, but I can tell you that for us, we make our choice and lived to tell the tale.

The most I can advise is to stay calm. I have not met one person who did not have any place to send her child to school.

You can do this. I promise you can. If I could get through all the warm fuzzy crazy, you can too! Good luck and happy hunting.

What underwear are you wearing?

Tis the season of summer!
To celebrate, my son has recently become fascinated by the difference between men and women's bathing suits.

For instance, "why do girls wear a top to cover their heart but boys don't?"

Serious head scratcher.

This has naturally progressed to what he finds to be a hysterical fascination with mens and women's and underwear.

My underwear seem to be an area of interest but he only asks questions about my underwear when we are in public places and lots of people can hear. This has happened to me in restaurants, on the city bus and swimming lessons.
Only in those environments am I lucky enough to have strangers hear my son ask the following:

"Mom, are you wearing underwear?"

Those who can not help but overhear must think, "his Mother must not make it a regular habit."


"Mom, why are your underwear pink?"

Those lucky enough to overhear now know what color underwear I am wearing.

Just another day of disclosing all our business all over NYC.

If anyone has an answer to why girls wear bathing suit tops and boys don't, that is child appropriate and not cheesy like, "because girls have sweeter/bigger hearts" I'd appreciate the suggestions greatly.

My "Sanity Toolbox"

You don't spend years in the fashion and beauty industry without picking up some tips.
Time management becomes an insanely important skill because the hours are long and if you have other hobbies and interests, you need to know how to fit them in.

Long before I was "Mom," I learned ways to incorporate my fitness hobby in to my day.

I find weekends challenging for me to fit workouts in. Classes start later in the day, I'm talking 7:30/8:00, which is late for my crew, and I usually have a commitment in the 10ish range. My workout usually falls by the wayside and I start to feel a little crabby (a lot) by about 3pm.

I'm sharing a tip with you, whether you are a mommy or not.

There is an app called "Booya."
On this app a woman named Kira Stokes makes her intense NYC workouts available to you.

I'm not recommending this as a substitute for all of the great classes that may be available to you, but it is definitely something to add to your tools.

I go to the gym around the corner from me with my iPad and pick a workout.  I almost always pick a Kira Stokes one.

I can not workout at home because my family members are under the impression that I am an information desk and chef.

It's awfully frustrating to try to get my booty lifting time in while simultaneously being asked, "why is the sky blue? Not dark blue. But that lighting blue? Tell me. TELL me now."

Or to be in plank and the dog start licking my nose.

Or my Husband saying, "are you sure you haven't seen my keys? Or hid them on me?!"
(I do that sometimes if I had too much wine. I think it's hysterical, I don't know why.)
 I keep the sound on "mute" and I do my thing. It's a great way to fit in some "you" time in on your own schedule.

Check out Kira on Booya and please note I am not a paid endorser for either of Kira or Booya, I just think it's a lifesaving device when you are feeling a little like your ship is sinking.

The Chicago Dance

The not even kind of funny thing about your children getting older, and I'm talking pre-k, is that they interact with other children and the topics of conversation become bizarre. They also become, in my opinion, a little age inappropriate, but somehow you can't put your finger on how. 

If your kid says a curse word, you reprimand the child and tell little Susie or Bobbie, or these days, Apple and Moonbeam, not to say it again because it's a "bad" word. 

But how do you handle this:

Moonbeam: "Mommy, what's a Chicago Dance?"

Mommy: "I don't know. What is it?"

Moonbeam: "Its when you poop on someone's head."

Followed by Moonbeam in a fit of hysterical laughter. 

Am I the only person reminded of things like a glass bottom boat? I don't remember what that is and I'm not googling it, I just know my husband told me what it was at one time and it was gross and sexual. 

So what do you say about "The Chicago Dance?"

I won't even look it up right now because if I find more information and its perverted, I'm going to start to cry. I know at some point I'll google it.  I just can not bring myself to right now. 

A parent once told me she could not stay home and raise her children because it's mindless, (whether it is or not is by opinion), but I'm thinking of calling her to find out how she would handle "The Chicago Dance."

FML

Leaving the nest...

It seems over the last few weeks, I've been conflicted.
This is an odd feeling and not one that I respond well to.
After maternity leave I went back to work and had a nanny to care for my son and It didn't work for me Fortunately, for the first time ever, in my line of work the money is ok, not a deal breaker since most of my after tax income went to pay the nanny.  I was able to make a decision and my decision was to become a stay at home mom (SAHM).  Something I NEVER thought I'd do.

Now my child goes to school for a full school day and it seems to me that I should be working. In my mind it seems I should go back to work and somehow find a position where I can leave at 2pm to be at pick up by 2:30. Sounds like searching for the impossible?

It is.

Don't get me wrong, I have my free lance work and my writing, but somehow, I think that I should be working full time, but really part time because I never finished work at 5, let alone 2. I should also be raising my family and taking care of every single aspect of what goes on in my household.

It's caused me anxiety.

My son is five, so it's not like you can hand them a metro card and be like, "see you tonight."
At the same time I feel a little lost and like I'm missing a piece of something.

Yesterday, I finally updated my resume. It made me feel so much better.
I looked at all of my academic and professional achievements in my career journey and it reignited my soul.

If you are feeling a little blah, whether working or working as a mom at home, I recommend making a list of your accomplishments. It works wonders for the psyche. It also helped regenerate my creativity, which was a little blue, along with my feeling of magenta.

If you watch the golden girls you will know what I mean about feeling "magenta."

Integrating the new baby with your pet(s)

I have three chihuahuas.  Ringo (12 years), Spike (11 years) and Consuela (10 years).

When I was expecting my son I read and re-read many articles on how to get the baby to integrate with the dogs and make it a seamless experience.

I used the blanket scent that experts say works.
We brought our baby blanket with our sons scent on it home for the dogs to sniff at.

I do not think it worked all that well.

Ringo and Consuela were pretty cool about it.  I could tell they were confused but were ok with everything.

Spike, on the other hand, hid in the hall closet off and on for two months.

Almost five years later he has adjusted.

The moral of this little story?

Do not worry, they will adjust.

And you will too:)

The Dentist

Yesterday I had a terrible realization.

I asked my dentist how long it had been since my last visit; the cleaning seemed to be a bit more intense than usual.

He told me it had been one year.
This simple, (and kind of gross) fact made me realize something startling.

Putting the needs of everyone ahead of me has begun to take a toll.

Once in a while, when I see that I am neglecting myself, I get pissy.

I think things like:

What the hell time do I have to wake up to get everything accomplished in a day?
Why do I feel like I am running in circles?

And the worst:

Why do I feel like my life changed SO much more than my husband?

I have had many mixed messages on the role of women.  I have heard man opinions.
I am regularly asked such things as:

What do you do when your son is at school?
Why are you a stay at home mom if you only have one child?

As though I should hand my four year old a metro card and say, "have a great day! see you tonight!"

And yet, I have not been able to get the time for a teeth cleaning in one year.

It makes me think.

The only advice I can give on this matter, is do what is good for you and screw the naysayers.

That being said, to those who ask what stay at home Moms do all day:
Ask yourselves why you have time to think about what other people are doing, and then fill that time with something more productive.

Namaste

What you need for the newbie

So, I like to post about comical topics, but one thing not funny is wasting money on products for your baby.

Here is a list of items I recommend, based on my experience.

Keep one thing in mind:

The wipe warmer, was an obsession of my infant niece.  I thought it was ridiculous, but she would not let my sister clean her tooshy without the wipe being of perfect wipe warmer temperature.  That being said, had she not been introduced to a perfectly warmed wipe, I suspect she would have been fine and adjusted to chilly or room temperature wipes like the rest of us did:

1-Bottles (I loved Dr. Browns)
2-Crib, crib mattress, crib pad, crib sheets
3-Bibs
4-High Chair
5-Stroller (I recommend Bob Revolution, it is a beast)
6-Portable car seat
7-Electronic swing
8-Exersaucer
9-Free and Clear detergent
10-Diapers in a variety of sizes
11-Baby medical kit (with little baby nail clippers-so cute)
12-Gripe Water

If you have a child that is not a man child like mine was, you will probably like to have a carrier, like the Bjorn.  My son was so long and I am so short that I gave mine to a friend.

The one item I can say across the board that most of my parent friends agree to skip is anything that resembles a diaper genie.  Everyone I know threw it out.
Just buy bags to put those dirty things in and be on your way.

The Exersaucer

My husband had a dream…

Exersaucers are great fun for little munchkins.  My son loved his.  It played a song when he pressed a button that would simply exclaim, “red…yellow…and blue oooohhhh oooohh.”

It was truly ridiculous and very catchy.

I suppose it was catchy enough that you could even hear it in your dreams.

It was during one of my sons early morning wake ups (4:15am), that I placed him in the exersaucer while I had some coffee.  Long after he was out of the exersaucer, my Husband emerged from the boudoir and said:

“I had the strangest dream.  I was trying to park the car away from the song the exersaucer plays, but no matter how far away I moved the car, I kept hearing the song.”

It will haunt your dreams…

Today is International Women's Day

Today is International Women’s Day.

I had no idea this day existed until I checked my Facebook Feed this morning and saw the news.  I was fortunate to read many beautiful dedications and forwards about the work that women do.  Of course, I also read some comments from disgruntled men, but that is not an area I want to venture in to at the moment.

Anyway, I started to think about the role of women in marriage and the home.

In my experience, being a primarily stay at home Mom has meant that I inherited a lot of the manual labor.  This ranges from cleaning ceilings (I call myself Leonardo DaVinci when I do this,) cleaning poop, and administering medication, to name only a few of my areas of expertise that are not highlighted on my resume, but that I am damn good at.

But this work is only a small component of a much bigger picture.

I recently read Betty Whites book, If You Ask Me, and she briefly references why she never had her own biological children (she does have step children.)  Betty explains that while she realizes many modern women would disagree, she did not believe that a woman could do both (the kids and the career,) and do them both with equal gusto.  Whether you or I believe that or not is not what I am discussing here, but I bring it up because it made me really think about the role of women, without even knowing that we had an International Women’s Day right around the corner.

So what is the role of a woman in my household? I know you are dying to know.

Let’s take a walk down memory lane, shall we?

Picture it, (yes Sofia Petrillo,) New York City, 2012. 

I leave the apartment with my jogging stroller, my son, who was not even one year old, and my three Chihuahuas.  It was raining so I had an umbrella to hold as well.  My eldest dog Ringo was just diagnosed with diabetes and I had the role of measuring his ketone level in his urine while trying to determine the correct insulin dose for him.  As I stood out in the rain, I remember laughing to myself about how ridiculous I must have looked in my gym clothes, my frizzy hair, a baby, three dogs and a ketone stick on a New York City sidewalk taking a urine sample from a Chihuahua.  I never would have imagined that as a part of my role description in my home, but there I was doing it.

I think what makes caretaking so special is that it requires humility.  It is a humbling experience for both men and women and one that most of the time, I enjoy.

 It also requires a sense of humor. 

As a Mom, or Dad, you will find yourself in some really bizarre situations and you need to keep your wits about you and hopefully grab a laugh.  I have never been more tired, or fulfilled, as taking care of my family, by my definition. 

Whatever today means to you, celebrate it.  Living this life is a gift and every day is another opportunity to smile and smell the urine.  Sorry, I mean flowers.  Smell the flowers.

That overbearing one...

Years ago, when I was young and had the world by the balls, my friends and I used to use the term, "that guy," for any guy who was an ass.  You know who I mean.  The guy that got too drunk at the bar or the guy that always said the wrong thing.

Years later, as a Mommy, I discovered that "that Mom," can also exist.

And it is way scarier than "that guy."

Tracy was a stay at home Mom with two little boys.  Cassie was a stay at home Mom with one little boy.  Tracy and Cassie met at the gym and began a nice little courtship (because you are dating new Mommy friends-more on that later.)  Tracy seemed a little intense to Cassie.

One day, Tracy, in a passive aggressive way that only, "that Mom" can do, told Cassie that she was concerned for Cassie's son that he may not be ready to start a twos program that both kids were enrolled in.

Cassie was stunned and froze, then became upset.  Upset was replaced with anger.
Cassie texted very nasty things to Tracy.

Tracy did not think she was wrong.

Moral of the story is just like in dating, if red flags go up in your mind on another Mommy, WALK AWAY.  Don't even walk,  Run.

Remember, just because they are Mom's does not mean they are nice.  And if anyone talks smack about your child, to your face or behind your back, it is a deal breaker in the courtship.

Days can be tough enough as you are learning the ropes.  Don't let someone else take any energy that you have left.

Vaccines

I struggled with even discussing this topic on here, as I am not quite sure what the reaction will be.  Then I figured, why not?

I am going to preface this by saying I like Jenny McCarthy.  I think she is amusing, and I like that she tells things the way that they are.

That said, homegirl is not a doctor.

Not to say doctors know everything, because they do not.  No one does.

BUT, I found myself pondering if my son should get his MMR at age 1.  At his first birthday.  After having some wine and getting in to a conversation with another Mom, who assured me I should NOT vaccinate my son because he would become autistic.

Nothing about this is funny.  I was sick with nerves for a few days.

Then I did the research.  Again, I am not a doctor and certainly not one to quote stats, but I will tell you, if you find yourself in a situation like this, step away from the conversation, pour yourself a glass of wine and the following business day, call your Pediatrician.

Also, once again, GOOGLE!
I found so many studies to support my decision.

Point being, you will have lots of fish to fry on this journey.  Deal with things as they come and do not get too crazy over this.

Travel

Travel and Vomit have become fascinatingly synonymous to me.  

There is something about a baby or toddler vomiting that is just incredible.  I think it is because the human is so small, yet that same human can destroy your clothes, hair, shoes, you name it, with one small hiccup that includes what I would call a vomit burp or VURP, moving forward.

I recall so clearly the first instance where my son vomited and I was shocked by the sheer amount of substance.  The first time I was really shocked and caught off guard, my friend Rebecca was visiting me and the baby. 

Just as he had finished I was standing in my living room burping him and suddenly heard what turned out to be a small VURP followed by what I can only describe as my own Niagara Falls.  Large white substance was flying out of this kids mouth like nothing I had ever seen.  It was white because of his formula and boy, does that smell bad.  

Shoes? Ruined.  

Clothes? Ruined.  

Hair? Forget it.

Fortunately I was at home.

You see, we travel with these kids.  You will become a Mom and still want to go on vacation or visit family or have some commitment that will require a plane, boat, train or automobile, and I will tell you, your child's stomach may not like the commitment.  

You are going to be so awesome about packing items one through ten million for the little Mr. or Ms., but you are not going to remember to pack a change of clothes for yourself.  

That is why I am telling you, pack a change of clothes for you.  

Mommy's remember to bring Junior ten different changes of clothing, for every temperature possible, but we find ourselves searching for something, anything that can double as a shirt.  I do not care how good of shape you are in, none of us can fit in to a size 6 month undershirt.  It also will not wrap around as a bandeau or halter top,

I know because I have tried. 

Rachel found herself on a cross country flight with two children, both under age 5.  Not only that, but her twin sister Jennifer, was accompanying her on the flight with her daughter, under the age of 2. While Rachel's daughter pooped that flight away like that child was getting paid by the pound, Jennifer's daughter vomited.  A lot.  All over Jennifer.  Jennifer was able to snag a shirt from a passenger who was witnessing this production of body functions that this little family was showcasing, and was able to change her clothes.  

Shortly after Jennifer changed her clothes, Rachel holding this little vomit machine found the same fate.  Only this time, no passenger had a shirt for poor Rachel.

Rachel begged the flight attendant for a spare anything.  The flight attendant would not budge.  We think it must be against Federal Aviation Guidelines for Flight Attendants to lend clothes to passengers covered in baby vomit, but do not quote me on that.

This is how Rachel found herself in a tiny tank top, getting off of a flight in NYC in the winter.

The moral of the story here, is pack a change of clothes for yourself.

Of note, this does not only occur on planes.  Be prepared for boats, cars, vans, taxis...

About this Laughin' Mommy

Becoming a Mother was the most wonderful and simultaneously frustrating experience in my life

As a young Mom, with no prior experience, I was bewildered and at times really hard on myself.  I often found myself in situations where I wondered, “what am I doing wrong?” “Why cant I get it together?”

I felt embarrassed to admit that I had no clue what I was doing and as a result, something as simple as packing a diaper bag felt like climbing a mountain.  I remember when my son came home from the hospital and I was going to take him out to his first doctor appointment, my diaper bag had one item in it.  Orajel.  

Because what the heck else did a 3 day old need?

I saw other Moms pushing strollers around Manhattan and they appeared rested, dressed and seemingly to have this Mom role down pat.  Why was I the frizzy haired, dark circled, crazy lady that felt like she could not remember what she did five minutes ago?

Ill tell you, my doubt in myself really took a toll after a while.  I had a moment where I said to myself, “I can do this.  You will change that next diaper and you will figure out what each newborn cry means.”

But I continued to feel like I was failing.

Finally, I wrapped my head around things.  Google, was a blessing.  How parents were parents before the internet will forever remain a mystery.  But I decided I had a duty to share my stories, and in some cases the stories of my friends.  If I could help one soon to be or brand new Mom out there, then I feel, in some small way, I have been a success.

I hope you find these experiences as funny as I do.  I also hope these tales from the Mother Hood help you to go easy on yourself and find some humor, even in the darkest of days.

In some tales, names have been changed to protect the Baby Mamas…