My Son is a Blatant Opportunist

Those of you that have been around a while know that I am a fan of drawing shitty stick figures now and then, as evidenced here and here. Well, I want to start sharing more of my real life here so I will be featuring my abhorrent scribbles from time to time to illustrate my stories. I apologize in advance for making your eyeballs bleed. They will hopefully bleed less as I figure everything out. Hopefully.

Anyway.

Today's tale is about how much of a fatty The Cool Cucumber is. That boy can eat. A lot. He could eat a grown lumberjack under the table. Then have dessert. Lately, his love for food has also led him into a life of crime. My son is now the petty larcenist of the dinner table.

The Cool Cucumber and The Quiet Contemplator both have set places at the dinner table (Child Protective Services frowns on you making them eat off the floor).

After dinner, they both get down from the table and we go do something wonderfully enriching and educational. Like watch Dancing with the Stars. The other night, I noticed that The Cool Cucumber had toddled away from the living room and back into the dining room. I snuck in behind him and found that he had climbed the dining table bench and bellied himself up to the table to finish his sister's dinner. I have been watching him the last few nights since and this is what I observed:

He surveys the table to see if there is any food left on The Quiet Contemplator's plate.

 

He then looks back to see if anyone is watching him.

Once he has established that the coast is clear, he climbs the bench to reach the plate.

 He then plants his butt down and inhales all of the food that is left.

 

I am oddly proud of his blatant opportunism. That's my boy.

Caption This

Here is how Caption This works:
You send me your funny photos. I caption them and share them with your fellow Boozehounds. Got a funny picture you want to see featured here? Send it to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces) and I will work some comedy magic. Or not. It might not be magical at all. It might be crap. Whatever. Send me your pics anyway.

 

And the winner of the caption contest came from Real Mom on NJ.

Want to see your kids on Caption This? Send your funny photos to ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces).

Serenity Prayer for Parents

This link is printable. Enjoy.

Body by Baby

Many of us feel embarrassed of our post baby bodies. Some of us are surprised that we didn't snap right back to our pre-baby bodies. The truth is, no matter how fast you bounce back to your pre-pregnancy state, you will never be the same. Be it from stretch marks, wider hips, sagging breasts, or just a new state of mind about your body, you are now forever changed by the miracle that is childbirth.

So, because Gisele and all her friends make it seem like stretchmarks don't happen, I started Body by Baby. Stretchmarks do happen. So does saggy skin. And saggy boobs. And that is ok. Because we are real women. Our bodies aren't perfect. But they didn't get this way on their own. They got this way because we are fucking awesome and CREATED A HUMAN IN THEM. What's a stretchmark or a muffin top when we actually made life?

This is what a real woman's belly looks like. This is what having beautiful babies does to a girl. And it is awesome:

This is Danyell from The Medicated Mommy. She is 26 and the mom of Crystal who is 8, Jade who is 7, Shane who is 6 and Jubilation-Leigh who is 4-months-old.

Thanks, Danyell. You are the shit for sharing with us what we all hide from each other.


Body by Baby all started here, but you glorious bitches have kept it going. Feeling frisky? Send me your own Body by Baby portrait and I will share it with all six of my readers the world. Anonymously or not. Your choice. Email them to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail . com (remove spaces).

How to be a friend

I have a new friend. Well, technically she's not new, but we have a new relationship. One that I have learned a lot from. One that has helped me through a really hard year.

You see, now that I am older and less wise, making and keeping friendships has gotten hard. And after my brother's death, it got even harder.

Gone are the days of making a friend by simply sharing a fierce love of My Little Pony and Care Bears. Gone are the days where you would just ask someone to come over to your house and play without having an anxiety attack before you ask. Gone are the days that sharing your Fruit Roll-up would earn you a friend 'til the end.

We are all so busy with our day-to-day lives that we seldom take the time to nurture old friendships or build new ones. Because we have families. And jobs. And mortgages.

But we still need friends. In fact, we need them more than ever. We need friends to remind us that we are more than just moms and wives. We need them to be there to pick up our broken pieces when we fall apart. To cheer us on when we need encouragement. To root for us when times are tough, and celebrate with us when times are good.

So I thought I would share with you what I have learned about friendship.

Stay in Touch
This sounds obvious, but seriously, think about how often you check in with your current friends. Once a week? Once a month? I know life is hectic and we barely have time to think, but meeting a friend for a quick drink, or lunch or just catching up over the phone is good for both of you. Consider it free therapy. That sometimes includes guacamole and chips.

Get Even
Don't be the only one whose life you talk about and don't only talk about your friend's life. That isn't a friendship. I have noticed that a lot of my friendships have become one-sided and that is not good. Yes, I care about my friend's lives, but they should also care about mine. Friendship is a two-way street. Treat it as such. Make sure to ask your friend about what is going on with them and tell them what is going on with you. Again, free therapy.

Check In
If you know your friend is going through something, whether joy- or sorrowful, check in with them. Send them a card, or a text, or an email. Let them know that they are on your mind and that you care. Because you should. If you don't care, move on. That person doesn't need a friend who doesn't care about them and you don't need to keep a relationship that is merely for "old times" sake. I have kept many of those for too long and it doesn't benefit anyone.

Listen
And I don't mean stare at your friend's face while they talk but really be thinking about what you need at the grocery store. Really listen to your friend. So you actually know what is going on with them. So many times in life we just zone out or wait to talk. I am one for the worst offenders in that category. But I am getting better.

Talk
And I mean really talk. About the good. And the bad. Your friend can't be there for you if they don't know what is going on. Don't be afraid to be honest when things are bad. That is what friends are for. It is OK to vent and let them know that you have feelings.

Don't Be a Therapist
Yes, getting what you want off your chest is wonderful, but sometimes that is all you need. Same for your friend. You don't always have to provide an answer to your friend's problems. You just have to listen and be there for them. And provide tissues and beer. And maybe guacamole.

Express Yourself
Every friendship will have its tests. Times when your friend says or does something that hurts your feelings. Tell them about it. Don't run away from it or sweep it under the rug. Because no matter how hard you try to brush it off or forget about it, it will always be there, lurking. And then you will add more things under the rug until you can no longer stand on it. So be honest. You will both feel better after. And it will make your friendship stronger.

Be That Guy
Be the buddy that everybody wants but nobody wants to be. Help your friend paint their house. Drive them to the airport. Babysit their dog while they are on vacation. Bring them food when they are sick. Clean their house after they have a baby. Help them move a body. Or just their furniture. Whatever. 

Say I Love You
Tell your friend how much they mean to you. Tell them that you love them and appreciate them. Because you do. And you should.


This is what my friend has taught me. What have yours taught you?

Caption This

Here is how Caption This works:
You send me your funny photos. I caption them and share them with your fellow Boozehounds. Got a funny picture you want to see featured here? Send it to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces) and I will work some comedy magic. Or not. It might not be magical at all. It might be crap. Whatever. Send me your pics anyway.

 

And this one was just too funny to keep to myself. Comment below with your funny captions and I will publish the best ones.

Want to see your kids on Caption This? Send your funny photos to ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces).

Are you ready for potty training?

There are a lot of quizzes out there to see if your child is ready for potty training. But the real question is, are you?

Take this handy quiz to see if you've got what it takes to take the potty head-on.

Do you have at least one case of beer, a box of wine and a handle of vodka on hand?
If the answer is no to even one of the above, you are not ready. Trust me. You are going to need a shitload of booze to get through this. Potty training is like prison and you don't want to be stuck having to brew a last minute batch of toilet hooch once your are on bathroom lockdown now do you? I didn't think so. Proceed to your nearest liquor store to stock up before you even THINK of pulling out the potty chair.

Do you have another vice to turn to when the booze runs dry?
Coffee, cross-stitch, chocolate, cigarettes, black tar heroin; whatever vice you choose, make sure you have a lot of it on hand. You are going to need more than just copious amounts of alcohol to get you through these next few torturous months. Whatever poison you pick, be sure to stock up with twice as much as you think you are going to need. What are you waiting for? Head to Hobby Lobby/call your dealer already.

Do you get claustrophobic in small, stinky places?
Because you are about to be stuck in the bathroom for an hour or more while your toddler tries to drop a deuce. If this makes you all itchy inside, you need to seek some therapy to work on your phobia before you proceed to the potty. Call your local shrink and have them try some immersion therapy on you. Baby steps, my friend. Baby steps.

Are you prepared for the pee and poo-splosions?
There is about to be pee and poop everywhere. The bathroom, the bedroom, the living room, the kitchen. And guess who has to clean it up? You. Are you prepared to get dirty in the trenches to not have to change a diaper again? Because if you are not, you are not ready for the war that is potty training. Proceed directly to the changing table. Do not pass Go. You are not ready, young Jedi.

Are you ready to give up your social life?
Potty training is a huge time commitment. If you aren't ready to spend the next month of your life in the bathroom cheering your little one on while they try to tinkle, you might not be ready. If you have any plans to be away from home at all, you aren't ready. In order for potty training to work, you kind of have to be on fun lockdown. If you aren't willing to give up luxuries like venturing out of the house more than once a month, than you aren't ready for potty training.
 
Do you have a filled prescription for Xanax ready?
Potty training is hard on the nerves. I highly recommend getting a prescription for Xanax before you begin. You probably won't need it, but it is better to have it ready-and-rearin' just in case than to look like a strung out psychopath while waiting for it to be filled at The Target. So before you head to the loo, hit up your OB/primary care physician/black alley hooker for a bottle of happy happy calm calm.

If you have answered no to one or more of the questions above, you aren't ready for the hell that is potty training. Stock up on Pampers and come back to me in a month, or a year, or when college applications are due.

Body by Baby

Many of us feel embarrassed of our post baby bodies. Some of us are surprised that we didn't snap right back to our pre-baby bodies. The truth is, no matter how fast you bounce back to your pre-pregnancy state, you will never be the same. Be it from stretch marks, wider hips, sagging breasts, or just a new state of mind about your body, you are now forever changed by the miracle that is childbirth.

So, because Gisele and all her friends make it seem like stretchmarks don't happen, I started Body by Baby. Stretchmarks do happen. So does saggy skin. And saggy boobs. And that is ok. Because we are real women. Our bodies aren't perfect. But they didn't get this way on their own. They got this way because we are fucking awesome and CREATED A HUMAN IN THEM. What's a stretchmark or a muffin top when we actually made life?

This is what a real woman's belly looks like. This is what having beautiful babies does to a girl. And it is awesome:

This is Michaela. She is the mom of a 6-month-old little girl named Lillian.

Here is her story:

I went in for a routine pregnancy appointment at 26 week. I founf out that I had high blood pressure and gained had 20 lbs in a month. Turns out I had early onset preeclampsia and pulmonary edema. I had a c-section that next day. Lillian was born 14 weeks early and stayed in the NICU for 85 days. She is now 6 months old (or 15 weeks corrected) and doing great. Hitting all her milestones for a 15-weeker!!!! The doctors and nurses that LOVE these little babies are so amazing!

Thanks, Michaela. You are the shit for sharing with us what we all hide from each other.


Body by Baby all started here, but you glorious bitches have kept it going. Feeling frisky? Send me your own Body by Baby portrait and I will share it with all six of my readers the world. Anonymously or not. Your choice. Email them to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail . com (remove spaces).

The 5 Worst Places To Have A Playdate

Today I have a guest post from Bad Playdate. Enjoy.

__________________________________________________________________

When I was single I had bad dates in bars and restaurants, now I take my kids on bad playdates at places like animal shelters and a lobster tank at the grocery store. As you can see from the stories on Bad Playdate, bad playdates can happen anywhere. I now present you with my 5 worst.

The 5 Worst Places To Have A Playdate

1. A DRIVEWAY.
An innocent playdate in a driveway can become uncomfortable and dangerous when a nanny gets yelled at by her circus hating boss for making a chalk drawing of a clown. When the defeated nanny throws scalding hot water all over her drawing to wash it away, the playdate gets real.


2. A COLD BACKYARD
It can become uncomfortable when another mom asks you over for a playdate on a cold day and she keeps you outside because her housekeeper just left and she doesn’t want you wrecking her clean house.


3. THE GAP
A shopping trip disguised as a playdate can get ugly and competitive when another mom scolds you for unfolding too many shirts when you’re trying to find your size and then makes a scene by refolding every shirt in a frenzy while the kids go wild. 


4. A LOBSTER TANK AT THE GROCERY STORE
Things can get boring on a playdate at the grocery store lobster tank so be ready to move the playdate to the Starbucks a few feet away. Then when another mom taunts you for paying Starbucks prices for a milk box, you might feel confused.


5. AN ANIMAL SHELTER
You might think a trip to a local animal shelter would be a fun playdate for the kids, until another mom, who is thinking about adopting a morbidly obese cat named Flounder, scares the children by hanging onto the cat for dear life and terrifying it.
 

For the full story on all 5 of these bad playdates, head on over to Bad Playdate. You can also follow Bad Playdate on Twitter and Facebook.

Caption This

Welcome to a new series at I Like Beer and Babies: Caption This.

Here is how it works:
You send me your funny photos. I caption them and share them with your fellow Boozehounds. Got a funny picture you want to see featured here? Send it to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces) and I will work some comedy magic. Or not. It might not be magical at all. It might be crap. Whatever. Send me your pics anyway.

Without further ado, here is the first episode of Caption This.

 

Want to see your kids on Caption This? Send your funny photos to ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail.com (remove spaces).

Making Mama Number One

Once Mother's Day was over and done this year, I found myself getting ready for bed Sunday night feeling unfulfilled. Not because I didn't get enough hand-painted macaroni necklaces from the kids or cliche crap from my husband. But because what I really needed for Mother's Day I could only give myself: I needed to start putting myself first. Not in a selfish way. Quite the contrary. I needed to start putting myself first so I didn't always end up coming in last. Sort of like how they instruct you to put your own air mask on in case of a plane crash. Because you can't help others breathe if you can't breathe yourself. And I couldn't breathe. I haven't been able to for a long time. But I didn't fully realize it until Sunday night.

So I set my alarm for 6 a.m. and decided the next morning would be the day that I started to make time for me. Alone. I would start waking up early and carve out a half hour of time for just me, myself and I. And I did it. I woke up, laced up my shoes and put one foot in front of the other. For three miles I was alone with my thoughts. And every time a negative one came up about myself, I kicked it right to the curb and told myself how awesome I was. How I could do anything. How I have made it through things that no other person could make it through. How I was strong. And smart. And invincible. It was the best date I have ever had. And it was with myself.

We're always asking ourselves, "Did I do enough for others today?" Did I do enough for my children? For my husband? For my job? For strangers? But the real question is, "Did you do enough for yourself today?" Did you make time to remind yourself of all that you have accomplished? Of all that you are. Of all that you are capable of? The only way to inspire others is to inspire yourself.

My challenge to you? Make a date with yourself. Do something just for you. Something that makes you feel better. Stronger. Like yourself. Go for a run. Set an hour aside to read. Cross stitch. Do whatever makes you feel like a better person you can be. Stop beating yourself down and start picking yourself up. Be the you that you want to be. Not the one that you think everybody else wants to see. Then report back with what you did for yourself this week. Comment below and let everyone know that you took time to make mama number one.

Body by Baby

Many of us feel embarrassed of our post baby bodies. Some of us are surprised that we didn't snap right back to our pre-baby bodies. The truth is, no matter how fast you bounce back to your pre-pregnancy state, you will never be the same. Be it from stretch marks, wider hips, sagging breasts, or just a new state of mind about your body, you are now forever changed by the miracle that is childbirth.

So, because Gisele and all her friends make it seem like stretchmarks don't happen, I started Body by Baby. Stretchmarks do happen. So does saggy skin. And saggy boobs. And that is ok. Because we are real women. Our bodies aren't perfect. But they didn't get this way on their own. They got this way because we are fucking awesome and CREATED A HUMAN IN THEM. What's a stretchmark or a muffin top when we actually made life?

This is what a real woman's belly looks like. This is what having beautiful babies does to a girl. And it is awesome:

 

This is Cat. She is the mom of a 21-month-old little girl.

Here is her story: 

I'm Cat. Mom to a 21-month-old beautiful little girl. She's perfect. No, I mean really. She's the shit. Unfortunately, I struggle every day with feeling like a complete failure because I can't shake the last 25 pounds to get back to pre-pregnancy. Stupid, I know. But it is what it is. So thanks to all of you brave ladies who have come before me to expose your tiger stripes to the world. Sometimes you need a little inspiration. :)

 

Thanks, Cat. You are the shit for sharing with us what we all hide from each other.


Body by Baby all started here, but you glorious bitches have kept it going. Feeling frisky? Send me your own Body by Baby portrait and I will share it with all six of my readers the world. Anonymously or not. Your choice. Email them to me at ilikebeerandbabies @ gmail . com (remove spaces).

Happy Mother's Day!

This is the Face of Depression

I have always been very honest about my struggles with depression because A: It is a real thing B: It is nothing to be ashamed of and C: If me being vocal about my struggles helps just one person with theirs, it is worth putting myself out there.

So here it is: I have been depressed lately. Really depressed. But more importantly, I have finally decided to help myself climb out of the black hole that I have been living in for the last few months.

When you are depressed, it is damned near impossible to get the help you need. The mere thought of all of the hoops you will have to jump through to get better is overwhelming. Drs, pharmacists, money, time, pride, etc. There are so many obstacles that stand between barely-surviving you and actually-living you that the thought of the work it will take to get better often makes it worse.

Depression is a silent suffering. A person doesn't need to look like a train wreck to be depressed.

Because this it the face of depression:

 

And this:

 

And even this:

I was cripplingly depressed in all of these pictures. I may have looked happy and fun on the outside, but on the inside, I was silently dying. And that is the ugly truth of depression. It doesn't come with an identifying rash or a scarlet letter "D". It just comes, and takes over, and smothers the life out of the person it has overtaken. Slowly at first. Then more and more rapidly and aggressively as it wears on.

I am on the path to getting better. Therapy has been great, but it has not been enough to pull me out of the dark depths of depression this time. So I am going back on anti-depressants. So I can be me again.

That's my story. What's yours?

I am overwhelmed.

I can't handle one more thing right now. Not one.

The slightest weight added to my already heavy load will break me. Make me crumble into a heap of nothingness.

Being a working mom who is dealing with all of the other goodness that life throws at me on a daily basis has made me completely and utterly overwhelmed.

I can barely move right now. Barely function.

Even the smallest task feels like an insurmountable hurdle.

I want to run away from life and responsibility.

From hospital bills. And doctors appointments. And deadlines. And housework. And the red tape surrounding my brothers death.

I want to be the fun and light person I used to be.

I want to get over everything that has happened in the last year and let go of the sadness and the anger.

I want to be normal. Just for a day.

I want to have all of the hard work that I have done in the last year to stay healthy and present finally payoff.

I want to stop backtracking into depression every other week.

I want to be free of the darkness that surrounds me. I want to step into the light.

I want to get up and have just one good day.

A day where I don't feel like I am going to drop from exhaustion every second.

A day where I just get to be happy.

A day where I don't have to bust my ass all day just to keep my life running.

A day where I don't feel irreparably broken.

I am barely functioning.

Working, momming and trying to have a life are just too much right now.

I feel like I am barely hanging on at work. And barely present at home.

My mind is always somewhere else.

Putting together a grocery list. Or managing our family calendar. Or booking Drs appointments. Or thinking about money. Or...

It is just so hard to be present and aware with so much swirling around you at all times. Let alone get a spare minute to yourself to relax.

I am at my limit.

No, I am past my limit.



I share times like this because I know that we all go through them. Many unspoken. And we beat ourselves up about them. And feel like failures for having feelings. But feelings are good. And letting them out is even better.

So, what about you? How are you feeling today?

From Mexico, with Love

My trip to Cancun with Motherhood: A Descent into Madness was all that it was hyped up to be. There were speedboats, tequila shots, shirtless men, sunburns and even some Faceslurring (drunken Facebooking) twunking (drunken tweeting). Here is just a taste of what went down.

First, I picked her up from the airport in the Rambone.

We both made signs for each other. Because we are geeks.

We meet!

Then we went to get pedicures and had lunch (complete with booze, of course).

This is me in the store after we got pedicures. Note my stylin' shoes...

After lunch, I took Elizabeth to my house to meet the fam. I can't think of anything more awkward for her on the face of the earth but she was a rock star and The Quiet Contemplator loved her. We then went out for more drinks, followed by dinner.

Martinis! I have no idea why I look so drunk...

We called it a night early since we had to be at the airport at the buttcrack. Then, we were off to Mexico.

This was what happened our first day/night:

So pretty. The only problem is that it tastes like shit.

Free 24-hour access to beer and wine on tap = heaven on earth.

We relaxed on the beach.

And then got very drunk.

Surrounded by shirtless dudes.

And more shirtless dudes.

And it was very windy (and I look like Taylor Swift).

Seriously. Very windy.

And you can order a whole tray of booze at a time. FOR FREE!

This was what happened our second day/night:

Then we woke up to a Stage 4 hangover and this.

So we did this for breakfast, of course.

And some of this. Drink Malibu and milk. It tastes like a smile. You're welcome.

Then more of this.

With these dudes.

This is Chris. He woke up the next day with a broken nose. He doesn't know why.

This was what happened our third and final day/night:

So we were exhausted and wanted a break from non-stop drinking. So, to relax, we decided to book a self-guided speedboat tour to snorkel the reefs. Not my brightest idea.

Anyway. I am scared of snorkeling. It makes me feel claustrophobic. But I am also an idiot and glutton for punishment, so I did it anyway. Want to know what makes snorkeling in the open ocean even more scary? Starting shark week right before you go out in the open ocean to swim with...SHARKS! Yeah. That happened.

I paid $9 for eight tampons. Who said Mexico was cheap?

So we got our gear.

Suited up.

And took off for our dive.

I drove.

And got burned like a bitch.

The next day we got up, boarded a plane and went back to reality.

The end.

For more details on the debauchery, visit this post by Motherhood.

Our trip was booked by the lovely Amy at Destinations by Amy. You can also find her sharing travel tips on Facebook.