Category Archives: Life Changes

Max Goes To School (or, the crazy lady who feeds the pigeons on her lunch break)

So, I took Max to his first preschool trial day. I dropped him off at 8ish, I prepped him for weeks not to cry when I dropped him off. He’s never been dropped off anywhere before without me, except his grandparents house. So I knew it would be a shit show. The whole ride there he said he wouldn’t cry and he was very excited and proud to say that, then we pull into the parking lot, I look behind me and he’s silently crying as soon as I put the car in park! He was trying not to let me see him cry?! Killing me!! After a quick pep talk, he was good to go. Me not so much. Where’s my pep talk?!

I walked him in, waiting for the second round of crying, but that never came. He ran in, sat with the teacher and couldn’t care any less that I was leaving. THIS IS NOT HOW I PLANNED THIS. I’m weak, and emotional. I wanted him to come running back then we’d dodge the hell outta that place and go have brunch somewhere and spend the day at kiddie hipster play land with all the Logan’s, Unicorn’s, and River’s who don’t know how to share.

But alas, I walked out and I got in my car, and I didn’t. know. what. to. do. I started driving, but where was I going?! I LITERALLY DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY FREE TIME. This sounds crazy, but you have to understand that I’ve been staying at home with him for 3 years now, every day, all day for 3 years. I don’t remember what I used to do? I think I used to paint a lot, or I guess I went to work? I actually have no memory of how I could possibly fill a whole entire day to myself?? This is the saddest craziest thing I’ve ever written.

At one point after the drop off, I drove to get coffee, finished my coffee as slow as possible, which was still less than 4 minutes, because I’m on mom-toddler-rush time, all the time. If he would have been there I wouldn’t have finished it at all, in fact I probably wouldn’t have even taken a sip. Frequently I buy coffee, leave the coffee shop, then toss the full cup at some point within the hour or two after I buy it, just so I can say “I got coffee”. I’m going to be more efficient in this, from now on I’m just going to go to Starbucks, give them $4.00 and walk out. Anyway, it was nice to get to drink a warm coffee. But then what?? This is so embarrassing, you know what I did??

I just drove around the block of the coffee shop 5 or 6 times. ISN’T THAT CRAZY? I’m fucking crazy. I legitimately did not know what the else to do with my time?! I think maybe I wanted to do so many things that I just couldn’t pick one, so I ended up doing none?? Oh, I also went to the bank. Like an adult. That’s what adults do, we go to the bank.

After that, I drove around some more, I ended up at a mall… I got bored at the mall and waited for the time to tick down to when I could go pick him up again. GUYS ARE YOU READING HOW STUPID THIS IS?! I know i’m not *that* crazy, because at least I can call out that I am obviously a big crazy loser and no, I am not not okay with the fact that I couldn’t even fill 3 hours of my day, so I chose to drive aimless around a block. So, yes… crazy, big, loser, yes, I get it. And because I get it, it’s not so bad?? Like it would be way worse if I wrote this as doing that is such a normal thing that people do, right? #Justification

How weird is it gonna be when I go back to work and I have to interact with people all day again?! I’m gonna be that person, that one person that works with you that you don’t talk to because she’s a weirdo… you know who I’m talking about, you all work with her. Anyway, that’s me. And that crazy lady used to be awesome, just remember that.

tldr; When you think of a crazy work lady, think of me before I was her.

It Gets Easier

So, I stopped writing. Not just for this blog. But all together. Truth be told, over the past few years I wrote five different blogs and two books. Most of which existed only on my desktop. But I enjoy writing. Its my favourite hobby and has been for at least 20 years. I stopped though. I stopped painting, drawing and sketching also. Max takes up most of my time, but even my little free time I have – I stopped.

I stopped a little over year ago after my first miscarriage. It’s been a year. Fuck. It’s also been 8 months since my second miscarriage. It’s been a year since I was that Melissa that I knew my whole life. I feel like normal me is never coming back and that stresses me out every day.

Everyone says it gets easier. They’re right. But not easy enough.  Not like how it used to be.

I’m defined by those two events. I used to be defined by who I felt I was and the awesome things I did, this sarcastic funny social planning super dork with annoying organizational skills who was always relaxed with an IDGAF attitude about everything – with not a care in the world. I mean, of course I had things to care about, but nothing that defined who I was or that I focused on all that much.

These two events though, they shape what defines me now. Because I can’t escape them, nor do I want to. They happened and they’re there, and they’ll always be there. Even on the best of days, they still happened.

I can’t say the M word. I keep calling it “that baby stuff that happened. ” I’m impressed with myself for mentioning it above in this post.

It’s a weird feeling to be so happy with your life, but with this underlying horribleness  there at random times. I love my project management job, I love my real estate job, I love that I’ve gotten to spend every day all day with max for almost 3 years, I love Brian, I love my house. I love my amazing friends. But there’s always that underlying stuff that creeps up every now and then that’s like “ya you’re life is amazing and I’m so glad you’re happy but don’t forget about what happened last year”. The voice moderate resembles Kanye West as I read this back. Which will now make it a little but more palatable moving forward.

I haven’t slept since the second one. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I have the same nightmare about it every single night. And I’m exhausted.

Everyone says it gets easier. It does. But it’s not easy enough.

It’s been a year. I need to get my shit together. I’m going to start writing again. I don’t know if it’ll be the same. I’m pushing myself to write again. I don’t want to write. I’m forcing myself do it. I’ve been sick all day week (I wrote this a week ago and keep revisiting it because i’m too scared to post it.) thinking about having to post this, to finish writing it, to share it, to do anything to it. I don’t want to do it. I’m not brave enough. I don’t want people to know. My heart rate is 134bpm right now as I read this back, knowing that I have to post it soon. I’m sweating and I want to throw up.

I sound depressed. I’m not. Life is great and I’m happy all he time, I’m probably annoyingly happy. I just hate talking or thinking about this.

I carry this secret around. I’m the most open person on the planet (as proven by an old blog post open where I explain the horrifying grotesque details of childbirth.) But this… This I’ve kept a secret from everyone except a few close friends.

And that secret made me stop writing. I can’t write a blog post but not write about those events, because they’re there whether I write about them or not. So I don’t write. Because I don’t want to write about them. I don’t know why I didn’t want to. I did want to. I just also didn’t want to. I don’t want people to know. Why don’t I want people to know?  I don’t know. I don’t want the sympathy, I don’t want people to think about it when they think about me, I’m ashamed about it, it’s not anyone’s business, and I can think of a hundred more reasons.  I don’t know… I just don’t like the thought of people knowing about it.

No one talks about it. Until it happens. Then you find out it’s happened to the majority of people you know. And you feel so much better knowing that other people know what you’re going thought and that they’re fine so you’ll be fine.

And I hate that I added myself to the list of people that don’t talk about it. Because if everyone talked about it, it would be less shit. It would still be shit but a fraction of a tiny percent less. So I don’t know why I didn’t talk about it. I’m begrudgingly writing this. It’s been a year and I need to get my shit together.

They say it gets easier. And it does. I don’t cry about it anymore. That’s a lie I’m crying right now and every now and then. But typically I don’t anymore. I’m talking to friends again. I can see pregnant people again and not care. Ultrasound photos still kill me. New babies I can handle though, it’s weird.

It gets easier. It’s never the same as it was, but it gets easier. If you’re going though it, as corny as it is… you aren’t alone. And it does help to hear that.  And don’t stay silent. And it will get easier. And I KNOW you don’t want to hear that because you don’t want it to get easier because it’s horrible and unimaginable and why and how should it get easier. But in a few months you’ll remember thinking about me telling you it’ll get easier and you’ll realize all of the sudden that it did get easier. And you’ll feel relief at the tiniest little weight being lifted off even if just for a moment realizing that it isn’t as bad now as it was when it happened.  And that’s what easier is. And every day a little bit more. And some days a little bit less. And it will  be one of the things that defines you. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but it’s here now and it happened and we continue our lives and try to find normalcy in what is now the new normal. It does get easier. It’s not the same, but it’s easier.

#BackToWriting

The Worst Part Of Having Kids

There really is a bad part… I mean, there are probably several really shitty parts to having a kid I suppose. LIke the lack of sleep forever and ever, the constant worrying, the not ever having money again…

Max is going through the what I like to lovingly call the “asshole” phase of his life.  He has an attitude temper thing and just really needs to chill out. Like really. He LOVES to defy every single thing I say. Sometimes he’ll stand there doing the opposite of what I say while staring at me just to see my reaction. I ignore him and he’ll stop sometimes. He also likes to run away… he ran on the street the other day hysterically laughing because I was screaming at him not to. I’m a day away from becoming a leash parent.

He loves to ignore me or pretend he doesn’t hear me or do things he shouldn’t do that are amazingly dangerous, like jump on the edge of the couch, or try and open the hot oven, or play with knives*. He also loves to get super angry and throw shit at me. I spend a good part of my day yelling at him or putting him in time outs, which he thinks is hilarious. Me: “Max, stop that or you’re gonna get a time out! Do you want a time out?!?” Max: “LOL11!!1!l!!1!! HAHAH YES!!”. Every. Single. Time.

I don’t want to yell at him, it’s the worst… I don’t want to be mad at him, but really, he’s being unreasonable. He’s 2, so I don’t’ ever expect him to be reasonable, but 14 hours a day of someone just giving you shit all day, you get annoyed and angry and yell-ey. Then there are the days when he’s perfect and awesome and cuddly and cozy and wonderful, and you forgot about the shit days. No joke, he was on such a rampage last week that I contacted three daycares and got two job interviews, I was so done.

Anyway, none of that is the worst part of having kids. Because they’re kids and that’s what they do and you deal with it, and it’s ridiculous but whatever. Half the tantrums are hilarious, and I have to hide myself from laughing at him.  But, the real worst part is this…

When they go to sleep, and then you spend the next 8 hours feeling guilty and watching them sleep soundly and innocently and super cute, and you feel like THE WORST PERSON ever for just yelling and reprimanding them for what felt like all day. Like you really feel horrible, because you realize that they’re so little and young and don’t know any better, yet you were the jerk being horrible to them all day. When in reality it’s probably not true, but they’re so good and sleepy and quiet and you forget how asshole-y they were all day.

And you promise yourself the next day you aren’t going to get mad at them, or yell at them or anything because they’re too perfect and cute and everything you’ve always wanted. But then the second he wakes up, he comes downstairs and says “mommy make me bacon and put cartoons on and don’t change my diaper.” and you say “You aren’t actually my boss (yes he is), and also say please, and also yes I am changing your gross diaper” and he replies with “NO, mommy make bacon right now!!” and you say “relax, I’ll make breakfast in a minute, I have to change your diaper first” and he says “NO NOW!!” then starts screaming and kicking you and throwing shit on the floor and you’re like “DUDE RELAX, we don’t throw things and we don’t kick people!!!!!”…and now it’s been 45 seconds and you’ve already yelled at him once today.

#TerribleTwos

*He doesn’t actually play with knives, have access to knives, or anything of the like

Towel blogger

How much do you love this stock photo?!?!? THE TABLET ISN'T EVEN ON, first of all!!

How much do you love this stock photo?!?!? THE TABLET ISN’T EVEN ON, first of all!!

I’m writing this naked. Well I have a towel on, but still. Max sleeps in our room now #DontGetRidOfYourCrib. My clothes are in our room, so I have to decide should I wake him up by getting my clothes, or blog in a towel? The latter obviously.

Other things I sacrifice with a crazy toddler:

1. I can’t pee alone anymore. And it’s not like he comes in there and just hangs out… he wants to see what’s going on and give me an ongoing narrative “mommy peeing” “mommy toilet paper” etc… It’s like a Wes Anderson movie. And he doesn’t understand the concept of personal space yet, so you can imagine the weirdness. The other day I was peeing and he brought his train in and went “choo choo” all the way up my leg as I was peeing. Do you know how hard it is to pee like that??

2. No more showering alone. He wants to come in the shower and opens the door and closes the door, and walks in there with his socks on, and tries to put his toys in there while I’m showering. Then cries because he wants to leave the room but locked himself in. Also he stares at me awkwardly, I’m embarrassed every time.

3. I haven’t slept in weeks and I have bruises everywhere. He sleeps in our bed, but he doesn’t like me sleeping in our bed. So as soon as he’s in the bed, he kicks me out. But legit kicks me. Kicks me in the lungs, the back, the neck, the face, all night until I leave.

4. He’s fucking bossy. He has the vocabulary of a 15 year old, and the attitude to go with it. I’m not allowed to sit on the couch anymore apparently because he loses his shit and gets super mad at me. I’m also not allowed to lie down because he loses his shit even harder and screams at me “MOMMY GET UP!” then slaps me and pushes me until I’m up.

5. No more eating. He won’t eat, so I don’t get to eat. Because after arguing with him for an hour to eat his food, he finally caves only if I let him eat my food on my lap from my plate.

Fact: 2 year olds are THE BEST. All of his attitude is hilarious to me, like I literally laugh the whole entire day at his ridiculous nonsense. If this is the terrible 2’s, I’m thoroughly enjoying it.

On the flip side, yesterday out of nowhere he walks over to me and says “I love you mommy”!! So, he can slap me and kick me and watch me pee all he wants. It’s worth it.

I Got My Mind On My Money, Money On My Mind

As of next week, I will have been officially off of work for 2 years. That went by so fast, it’s insane. My whole long term plan was to use all my savings (which I budgeted would last me 2 years) then go back to work, since it would be easier to find Max daycare now that he’s older.  BUT NOW, now I can’t put him in daycare, so I can’t go back to work, and now I’m fucked.

It would have been so much easier to put him in daycare when my mat leave ended when he was 12 months, but now we have a thing together and there’s no possible way I couldn’t be with him all day, I love him way too much now. I love every single minute of every single day we have together, more than anything.  That makes me sound like I really didn’t give a shit about him at 12 months, which isn’t true. I just maybe gave less of a shit than I do now. Wait, that’s also not true. It’s just that at 12 months babies are A LOT of work and no reward. Barf cleaning, poop cleaning, crying for no reason, and they don’t do anything, it’s really really boring. But now he does cool stuff, and we talk to each other all day, and we have so much fun. And if he barfs or poops (and he does all the time, so it’s great), he tells me to clean it because he’s demanding, but then we do laundry together, and take long fun baths, and it’s not so bad. He also tells me what he wants to do all day, so we do it, and then he spends the rest of his day recounting what we did and laughing. HOW CAN I PUT THAT IN DAYCARE???   I can’t, and so I’m broke for the foreseeable future. Although I can’t even pay rent now, so I’m beyond broke and moderately scared, I have no clue what I just got myself into. Massive fail.

I really thought by now it’d be easier to put him in daycare because I thought I could just tell him he was going to daycare and he’d understand, so it wouldn’t be like I was randomly dropping him off somewhere he didn’t know. But that’s the problem, that now he does understand, and he isn’t going to have any of it. He has a serious complainey attitude problem, which I have no idea where he gets it from at all, in the least. At. All. So he’s not going to even go to daycare if I wanted him to. He would leave and come home himself, I know it. Either that or he gets kicked out of daycare for swearing, which is a very very strong possibility. And it should be noted that I wasn’t the one to teach him to swear. Brian said “holy shit” by accident one time, and Max just repeated it. Also, he heard the F word when we were watching Wolf of Wall Street, before I knew he could even acknowledge  things he heard on TV. And in all fairness I didn’t know Max was in the room when I was watching it.  And that means now I just watch Food Network all day, because I can’t deal with what he’s picking up wherever, and because I watch Food Network all day, I’m hungry all day, and because I’m hungry all day, I eat all day, and because I eat all day, I get really fat all day, and because I get fat all day, we run out of food quicker, and because of that I need to buy more groceries, and because of that I run out of money sooner. And this is the circle of life in my house.

TL;DR

Send money

Fancy Poop

God, this year is literally the worst year ever. So much crap has happened, I can’t even keep track of it. Broken ankle, sick from Jan – March, a bunch of other horrible stuff, my car getting totalled, just the worst. THEN yesterday morning I see this huge lump on Max’s neck. Like huge though, the size of a quarter sticking out of his neck. KILL ME. I can’t even describe to you the feeling you get, I can’t. And with the way this year was going, my first thought was “of course”.

I anxiously called the doctor, he’s amazing and saw us same day, but I had to wait 7 hours for the appointment (from the time I saw the lump). Can I even describe how it was the longest 7 hours of my life?!?! Max legit played on the iPad for 7 straight hours, I couldn’t play with him, I barely fed him lunch, I just couldn’t think or do anything. I sat on my couch staring out the window for 7 hours. I tried not to get ahead of myself obviously, I’m not that panicky mom, at least not since I stopped Googling medical things when he was 4 weeks old and I diagnosed him with like 20 things he didn’t have. So I wasn’t blowing it out of proportion in my mind, but just having to wait 7 hours to hear what it could be, what tests we’d have to do, etc… just the worst. I can’t even say it was scary because it was beyond scary, it was a word I don’t even think exists.

The doctor checked it out and said everything is fine, it’s normal thankfully. Relief doesn’t even describe how I felt when I heard that. Today, I feel so lucky to have him here and healthy, and I’m so sad for anyone who’s ever had to go through anything horrible. I can’t stop looking at him and realizing how lucky I am right now.

Ok cheesy horrible post over… now for the good stuff…

Today we went to an indoor kids playground for yuppies. No seriously, you can’t get in unless your kids name is Max, Logan, Isla, or Atticus, and instead of Goldfish or Yogurt for snacks, you have to bring quinoa and kale. Everyone in there was so fancy today. No exaggeration, 5 different moms wearing blazers and fancy expensive scarves. They had their hair all done up and everything, like super fancy. Please note that I’m wearing leggings, a wrinkly sweatshirt that I yanked out of the dryer half wet, no bra, possibly no underwear, I don’t even know… and I haven’t showered yet. But good for them. Really good for them.

All the kids are playing on the slides and at the exact same time, we all smell it… it’s disgusting. Who’s child is it from? And just like dominoes, you see each mom go and smell their kids bum. It’s fucking disgusting. But they do it, and I do it, and we all do it, and shut up if you say you haven’t done it, and if you have no kids then I understand how gross this is, but you WILL do it one day, and you will enjoy it. The look of a room full of very fancy dressed business women smelling bums for poop, knowing that later this afternoon they’re probably going to pitch some fancy marketing strategy they worked all night on to an exec at a major company and have to be super professional about it, KNOWING that 2 hours prior they smelled someones bum for poo, it makes my day just that much brighter.

10 Really F**king Legit Good Reasons You Should Have Kids

I know so many people who don’t want to have kids. And I was thinking if they just knew how good it is, maybe they’d change their mind. But then I realized how bullshit that was, because I didn’t want kids either for the longest time, and whenever anyone tried to tell me all the good parts I was like “just no, whatever” while I slept in till 11am after a night of wine drinking, foodie restaurant hopping and vacation planning. Then I woke up on my 30th birthday and everything went to shit and I wanted a baby all of the sudden, OUT OF NOWHERE. Fuck you hormones. Fuck you so bad.

I don’t even really care what other people want or do, it effects me zero percent, do whatever you want. If you want to go travel the world instead of having kids, go travel! It’s not like you can travel with kids. Where you gonna go? Australia? Australia is all prisoners, don’t take children there. You wanna go eat at the best restaurants and post photos of your Waygu $600.00 blue endangered lobster topped steak to Instagram? Go do that, restaurants hate kids, especially the asshole kids. And most kids are assholes, so you’d probably end up with an asshole and never get to eat anywhere good again. I’ve been to Boston Pizza 3 times this month, it’s disgusting.

Having said that… in case you’re on the fence (and also because Buzzfeed), I’ve compiled a list of 10 really fucking legit good reasons you should have kids, with all of the “omg but it’s so rewarding and you love them so much” removed.

10 Really Fucking Legit Good Reasons To Have Kids (In case you’re on the fence):

1.  You can get out of ANYTHING!!!
“Sorry, my son has to nap, I can’t make it to your Pinterest Napkin Folding party”. “Hey, this dinner of liver and potatoes is great, and I love listening to your creepy uncle talk about his fishing boat, but my son has to nap in 10 minutes so we have to go” (Then you go get burgers).  “Hmm ya I can’t make it that day to help you rebuild your deck in the rain, my son has music class, sorry.”. #CouldBeTrueCouldBeFalseDOESN’TMATTER

2. You get all the best parking spaces
Self explanatory, but you do. And the best part is when you park in one of those close spots and you get the stink eye from a overtired bitchy bitch mom who thinks you have no kids in the car.

3. You get a year off work to just hang and do whatever
Because ProTip: in the first year of their lives, they don’t do shit. So you can legit just go anywhere and do anything.

4. You’ll get less annoyed by people posting baby photos on Facebook
I mean, moderately less annoyed. I still know some over-posters (guilty) and they need to just   stop. I don’t care that your kid can fit a cheerio in his nose, it’s not cute to anyone but you. But overall, you get over seeing only baby pics on Facebook. And you can also judge other people’s kids and make yourself feel better about your own comparatively.

5. You get free stuff
The amount of free Timbits I’ve gotten because “omg your baby is so cute!” in the past year is an exorbitant amount.

6. You don’t have to work late anymore
Leave that for the junior account people who wear high boots, big earrings, ombre their hair, and have nothing to go home to except a big bottle of wine and probably a concert at some point that night.

7. The government will send you $100.00 a month
You legit get $100.00! This means nothing to anyone reading this because you all have jobs. I used to have a job and made a lot of money so I was all “I’m just gonna donate that money” back in the day. But now I have no job, and it’s $100.00! Which is a lot of money to someone who has zero money! I think i’m supposed to give it to Max. like put it in an RESP or something, but mama needs her nails done.

8. Momradery
Everyone you run into is basically your friend immediately. Because you all share the same “a person has ripped their way out of my body, then peed in my mouth and pooped on my hand” bond. We all talk to each other all the time, passing on the street, in the mall, at the park, I don’t even know you but we’re talking, because we both just “know“. And it’s so great. I.e. I was at Yorkdale wearing a Superman t-shirt because I’m an idiotloser, and Max was being a silly, and a stranger mom comes over to me and says “Superman eh?  More like Supermom, you’re doing great!”.  THAT’S AMAZING. Trust me. It’s amazing. So I’ve coined Momradery as a real thing, we’re all looking out for each other and it’s wonderful.

9. You can get fat, and it’s fine
I’m disgusting, and while I hate being fat, I can continue to blame it on the baby weight that won’t go away. Or like you want that extra cupcake? That’s gross, you’ve had two already. but “my son kept me up all night, i haven’t eaten in two days because I’ve been so busy taking care of him, I’m so tired” now it’s totally acceptable to eat that cupcake. And before you judge me, I know you’ve done this before, I know you’ve eaten two cupcakes at one sitting, and you have no kids, therefore you don’t even have an excuse. So maybe I am disgusting, but at least I have an excuse.

10. Ok I had to throw this in… you really do love them on a whole other level
Like for all the work it is, and for all the things you’ve wanted to do in your life without kids, you won’t even care anymore. I still want to travel the world, but I want to travel the world with Max and show him all the amazing things that I wanted to see, but we both get to see it for the first time together. Except Australia, a population of criminals.

Ranty rant rant rant rant ranty rant

I honest to god didn’t realize how hard it was going to be to find a babysitter. Like, fuck. We’ve been out together 3 times in 18 months, and one of those times was super duper rush-ey so it barely counts haha.

Me and Brian don’t even know what to talk about anymore when we do have time together, it’s been so sparse us just being alone together, it’s super shitty. Most of my friends (see: all of my friends) have sitters/nannies/family/friends that’ll watch their baby’s whenever. I even know people who get overnights once a week, or weeklong vacays, or like dinner dates once a month, etc… meanwhile, I haven’t gotten my haircut in 3 months because I can’t find anyone to watch him even for 2 hours. It’s fucking annoying. I wish I had a bigger family, that’s such a huge pro to having siblings!! All the aunts and uncles theoretically love babysitting!! Right?!? Sigh.

I’m not saying we wanna go out every night or week or whatever, I wouldn’t want to be away from him that much anyway, he’s my buddy! But, if I could just hang with Brian a couple times a month alone, imagine how awesome that would be. Maybe even just once a month?? OMG I can’t even imagine!! I can’t believe that my barebones request of 2 hours a month so me and Brian can go have dinner alone so that we don’t end up going crazy and killing eachother is almost impossible to get. Like fuck, we even missed our anniversary because we couldn’t find anyone! Then we even resorted to randomly finding some stranger on Facebook to watch Max, then less than one minute later came to our senses and were like NOT HAPPENING, wtf, that’s the WORST IDEA EVER. EVER!!!! DON’T DO THAT. I’m sure they were lovely people, but just don’t.

I’ve always said having a baby was so much easier than I thought it would be, but this lack of babysitting is infinitely harder than I thought it would be. I’ve expunged most of my resources to find someone, inclusive of strangers on Facebook, and I’ve honest to god come up with nothing. 18 Months into this, and feeling super duper helpless slash super fucking jealous of everyone that has ever gone on a date night after having a baby. ANYHOO TLDR; if you know any really good reliable awesome fun responsible sitters… send ’em my way. #NotHoldingMyBreath

Really reaching for something to write about post

TMI and pointless, but really… I’m so sick of buying bras. Like, I have no money and I’m over it. And he’s 16 months old, so my fucking hormones should get their shit together already.   Before I was pregnant I bought a bunch of bras because there was a sale one day… and when I went to wear them they didn’t fit. I was so annoyed because I couldn’t return them, and the store’s sizing was obviously off. I remember just being so angry because it was such a waste of money. Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant… and then I felt like an asshole for being so mad at the store, because it wasn’t them who got me pregnant, and certainly not the store clerk (I don’t think?) I yelled at for a return, so not even a tiny bit their fault. sigh.

I had to go buy some more that would fit, and at that point I had no money because I was trying to save since I was gonna be on mat leave for a year and poor.  Oh  and don’t forget that in like 6 months you have to go bra shopping again because they just keep getting bigger and bigger and it’s really annoying at this point.

Hey, THEN YOU HAVE A BABY!!!! And guess what happens? Bingo.  I think in 9 months at that point I had spent probably $600.00 on bras, maybe more. Probably more. Yeah, for sure more. And I’m not even buying anything fancy.  But now the baby is born and you have to buy nursing bras, which are a whole other type of expensive.  Speaking of which, do you know they make lingerie nursing bras???  WHO ARE YOU THAT IS BUYING THIS??  “Hey baby, come look at how sexy I am with all this milk in this sexy milky bra… reoow”.  that’s my attempt at writing sexy… it’s about as good as my attempt to be sexy in real life. Yeah I totally want a sexy lacy nursing bra, especially right after I have a baby, really especially want to feel sexy in a milk soaked bra after he’s been nursing for 12 hours a day and I haven’t slept all night… off track, sorry. And I have no doubt some of my friends bought these sexy nursing bras, and good for you, I’m not making fun of you, I’m making fun of me.

Then you stop nursing, so you’re like “cool I can wear my old bras”. No, you can’t.  Nothing is the same anymore. Nothing. Do you get what I’m saying? Nothing.   Noth…ing.

So I bought this random new size that made me so ugh to buy, but it fit, but I was so done, like, what now… Now this is my new size for life? This is huge, I don’t want to be this. And this was like 6 months after I stopped nursing, so I just didn’t get it, I didn’t know that happened.

Well that lasted for a month then I needed to go buy more in a smaller size, a size smaller than even BEFORE I was pregnant.   So what the could have possibly happened to make that happen??? I’m so over it… my new solution is the best solution, and considering I don’t ever go out in public, my solution of just not wearing one seems to be working great for me, my bank account, and the guy who comes to our door to deliver the packages I order off Amazon.

FUUUUUUUU

GOD I had the worst fucking day, I can’t even get into it, i’m still way too upset. I dropped Max on his head when I fell down the stairs. There are no words to describe how horrible I feel, so I’m leaving it at this. Luckily he is ok. Me not so much, broken ankle – ridiculous. I’m super super depressed about it, for so many reasons. Like other than the fact that two years ago I broke my other ankle! Other than the fact that it’s finally summer and now I can’t do anything, but more importantly, I can’t help Max learn to walk anymore, because I can’t walk with him. What do I do when he wants me to pick him up??? I’m so beyond sad, it’s horrible.

Lucky(?) for me Aastha Lal AKA my favourite comedian is having another show coming up, which always always cheers me up no matter what. Even that time my hamster died, this was the only thing that would get me out of that funk. I’m joking, I never had a hamster. I’m just not good at joking, not like Aashta is.  I’m totally plugging the shit out this show on here, and she’s not even paying me, AND it has nothing to do with being a mom. Or does it? She talks about lactation quite a bit, and vaginas… so I mean, that’s totally mom related, IN FACT if I had to only choose two things in the world that were solely mom related, it would definitely just be lactation and vaginas.  I’m gonna be at the show laughing it up and peeing myself, because I still can’t hold it.  I hope some of you can come join me! (And by join me, I don’t mean come sit at the show with me, that’s weird –  I don’t even know you*. I just mean go buy a ticket and go see the show!)  For any mom who is stressed, tired, hasn’t showered in months, is super busy at home… it’s an amazing hilarious cheap night out. Coincidentally, that’s how Aastha’s dates also describe her.

*I obviously know you. Let’s not kid ourselves… no one reads this blog, other than my parents and like 5 friends, and Aastha is one of them. So four other friends I suppose.