I never wanted to get married and I never wanted to have kids.
Then I met Joe.
Before I met my husband, I was annoyingly independent. I left home at seventeen and never looked back. I became used to supporting myself and after a handful of horror-story-worthy roommates, I truly learned to appreciate my alone time. I never craved a royal wedding or a white picket fence or perfect stick figure family (you know, those irritating stickers that are plastered on mini-vans across the country? What's with those anyway? "Hey! I'm Sally! Tryna kidnap some kids? Follow me! I have three!" Am I right!?). Plus, the thought of packing on thirty pounds and possibly vomiting every morning just to pop out a screaming little nugget that would destroy my taint and sit in it's own feces gave me nightmares. No thank you.
Joe came around and suddenly I realized how awesome a diamond would look on my left hand and out of nowhere my loins were burning. Seriously. On fire. And I wasn't all burny just because we passed a yeast infection back and fourth that one time...I fell madly in love with this man and needed to make his babies. In my uterus...before it fell out (Google it. IT CAN HAPPEN).
It doesn't help matters that Joe's sister, Dana (you met her in the last couple posts), has the best freaking kids on the planet. Not only are they adorable, they are also HILARIOUS. Brett took a poo on my OCD husband's carpet for God's sake. And don't even get me started with Lexi...that girl is like a never ending episode of "Kids Say The Darndest Things" (the uncensored version). It was game-over the minute I met them. Kids? SIGN ME UP.
Joe and I talk about having babies ALL. THE. TIME. We talk about the kind of parents we would be and what our children would look like. Would they play sports like Dad or be giant nerds like Mom? It's only gotten worse now that we're actually married and own our first house. We have the space and we're legally bound to one another so procreating is the obvious next step. Our original plan was to go all "whatever happens, happens" as soon we said, "I do."'
The three main reasons it hasn't "happened" yet are as follows:
1. We're selfish (We have so much on our life to-do list that wouldn't be possible if we were constantly buying nursing pads, hemorrhoid cream and poop catchers. I think it's actually QUITE responsible of us to build a deck and redecorate and travel to the Virgin Islands...you know, get it out of our system before we surrender all of our income to the Huggie corporation.)
2. I'm still looking for a full-time job (Although I'm currently working a 40 hour work week, my job title is TECHNICALLY not considered full-time. It's the company I work for's way of saying, "We're a billion dollar organization and we really need you...but not enough to give you any benefits or sense of security. Take your college education and go make me some photocopies." Until I land a job with maternity leave, sick time, and a retirement plan...my loins will live to burn another day.)
3. We're totally broke (As a result of numbers 1 and 2.)
Although the stars haven't quite aligned for our baby makin' journey, I still think about it constantly. I look forward to the hemorrhoids and morning sickness and spit-up soaked clothing and poopy diapers. Plus, not bleeding and having to buy tampons for nine months sounds like a fabulous vacation for my vagina. If seventeen year old Lauren saw twenty-four year old Lauren, she would probably be disgusted....but she blew fifty grand on one year of college just to become a part-time receptionist so WHAT DOES SHE KNOW ANYWAY?
April 11, 2013
Once Upon a Time......
So, the other day my grandma was telling me about how back in the day she used to put the babies in laundry baskets in the back seat. They didn't have car seats and all that jazz back in the day while our parents were growing up. Well, one day while searching through some Mom blogs and info (Yes, this is Lauren's crazy Sister-in-Law again) I was reading up on how some of these freaking Moms are just plain crazy. Yes, Google can be my best friend or my worst enemy. I am one of those people that like to Google everything, especially when I was prego and now with the kids. My family tells me to stay away...I tend to call them and tell them I have worms or some strange disease after I have been on Google for a while.
So, I was researching some info on the baby swing on just purchased. Now, I don't normally do this because if it is going to break, then it breaks. But it was a little cheaper and it kinda seemed too good to be true so I did some research. My previous swing had died and my son LOVES his swing...like won't take naps unless it is in his swing and if he is cranky, then swing time it is! While I was doing some research, I came across a MOM BLOG that had different opinions of Moms and the swings they liked and all that. Well, this one Mom decided it was OK to state that swings were completely wrong and children don't develop normally when they are stuck in a swing all the time.
Ok, deep breath. As my one college roommate would say, "I would like to slap her in the back of the head"
Is this what society has come down to these days? We can't even put our babies in swings without some judgmental mother out there saying it is wrong. Really? I guess her babies were perfect and she doesn't know what colic is or having a child that can't poop! Yes, sit in a bathtub with your child for an hour to try and get them to poop and let me know how your day goes!
What is happening with Mother's these days? Come on...my grandmother's smoked and drank through their whole pregnancies and their kids turned out just fine. I think society knows too much. We all need to relax and let things be. Oh, and by the way...my son started cereal when he was a month old! OMG! Now he is going to be fat and have allergies!!
By the way...the swing works great!
Once upon a time......
So, I was researching some info on the baby swing on just purchased. Now, I don't normally do this because if it is going to break, then it breaks. But it was a little cheaper and it kinda seemed too good to be true so I did some research. My previous swing had died and my son LOVES his swing...like won't take naps unless it is in his swing and if he is cranky, then swing time it is! While I was doing some research, I came across a MOM BLOG that had different opinions of Moms and the swings they liked and all that. Well, this one Mom decided it was OK to state that swings were completely wrong and children don't develop normally when they are stuck in a swing all the time.
Ok, deep breath. As my one college roommate would say, "I would like to slap her in the back of the head"
Is this what society has come down to these days? We can't even put our babies in swings without some judgmental mother out there saying it is wrong. Really? I guess her babies were perfect and she doesn't know what colic is or having a child that can't poop! Yes, sit in a bathtub with your child for an hour to try and get them to poop and let me know how your day goes!
What is happening with Mother's these days? Come on...my grandmother's smoked and drank through their whole pregnancies and their kids turned out just fine. I think society knows too much. We all need to relax and let things be. Oh, and by the way...my son started cereal when he was a month old! OMG! Now he is going to be fat and have allergies!!
By the way...the swing works great!
Once upon a time......
Real Housewives of What??!!
You want to know what a real freaking housewife is? Try going out to dinner with the husband, 5 year old and 4 month old and the family sitting behind you stops you and says, I think you have spit up on your shoulder! Oh, thanks, I was just in the middle of eating, it can wait until later.
Or, while you are washing the dishes, you notice some crud underneath your fingernail and after close inspection, you realize it is POOP. Don't really know how long it has been there and the sad part is I don't really care. It doesn't faze me at all, is that bad?
I love the all the Real Housewife shows, don't get me wrong, I am completely ADDICTED, but really girls, when is the last time you changed a poopy diaper? Or licked Desitin off your fingers by accident one time? That stuff is really hard to scrub off. Anyone?
Maybe it is just me but how about we do a reality show and make a lot of money on REAL housewives. You know the ones that really stay home all day long and take care of the crazy kids and clean and cook. Yes, we don't have nannies and we know how to turn a stove on. Yes, I know, CRAZY!
By the way, I am Lauren's crazy Sister-in-Law, Dana. She kinda got stuck with me by force but she is taking it really well. I am the only girl and the oldest of 3 children. Yes, poor me, I have two younger brothers and they are both weenies! Needless to say, I take care of things and keep the 3 of us together. They would never admit that, but it is true. I have a wonderful husband who is caring enough to let me stay home with our children and pay my bills. Childcare is way too expensive these days and just like Lauren's previous post...student loans BLOW and I don't have much to show for my lovely Bachelor's Degree, but I did get knocked up by my lovely husband a few months after I graduated. It could be worse right?
Just this past week I was with my brother and Lauren for the whole week with my kids and other brother. Let me give an example of how the week went: My 4 month old son decided to have a blow out in his diaper. (Any one who is a mother and reading this, totally knows what I mean) He crapped up the back of his diaper and all over his clothes and my brother's carpet. By the way my brother is a complete control freak and has OCD and crapping on the carpet is a no no. While I was preparing the bathtub to give my poop covered son a bath, he decided that he would pee all over the bathroom floor while he was at it. So, while my brother is trying to get the poop off the carpet, I have to break more bad news and inform him that now he has to pick up the pee on the bathroom floor. Do you still want kids? All the while my Sister-in-Law thinks her uterus is falling out! Yes, I know..different story for a different day.
So, the trip went well I think all in all.
Real Housewives of where? Yes, that's what I thought. I don't go grocery shopping all dressed up and in stilettos. I am as real as they get. In fact I am lucky if I walk out of the house without spit up on me and my shoes on instead of my slippers. (Yes, I have done that before and my 5 year old informed me after the fact that my slippers were on) We pay bills and have arguments over money and the children. I clean, cook, and make sure my daughter attends her pre school and gymnastics every week. And I don't use a limo or nanny. I have upgraded from my awesome 1500 GMC Sierra to the Buick Enclave with the 3rd row seat. Yes, I am a high roller now!
Real Housewife of Syracuse, NY!
Or, while you are washing the dishes, you notice some crud underneath your fingernail and after close inspection, you realize it is POOP. Don't really know how long it has been there and the sad part is I don't really care. It doesn't faze me at all, is that bad?
I love the all the Real Housewife shows, don't get me wrong, I am completely ADDICTED, but really girls, when is the last time you changed a poopy diaper? Or licked Desitin off your fingers by accident one time? That stuff is really hard to scrub off. Anyone?
Maybe it is just me but how about we do a reality show and make a lot of money on REAL housewives. You know the ones that really stay home all day long and take care of the crazy kids and clean and cook. Yes, we don't have nannies and we know how to turn a stove on. Yes, I know, CRAZY!
By the way, I am Lauren's crazy Sister-in-Law, Dana. She kinda got stuck with me by force but she is taking it really well. I am the only girl and the oldest of 3 children. Yes, poor me, I have two younger brothers and they are both weenies! Needless to say, I take care of things and keep the 3 of us together. They would never admit that, but it is true. I have a wonderful husband who is caring enough to let me stay home with our children and pay my bills. Childcare is way too expensive these days and just like Lauren's previous post...student loans BLOW and I don't have much to show for my lovely Bachelor's Degree, but I did get knocked up by my lovely husband a few months after I graduated. It could be worse right?
Just this past week I was with my brother and Lauren for the whole week with my kids and other brother. Let me give an example of how the week went: My 4 month old son decided to have a blow out in his diaper. (Any one who is a mother and reading this, totally knows what I mean) He crapped up the back of his diaper and all over his clothes and my brother's carpet. By the way my brother is a complete control freak and has OCD and crapping on the carpet is a no no. While I was preparing the bathtub to give my poop covered son a bath, he decided that he would pee all over the bathroom floor while he was at it. So, while my brother is trying to get the poop off the carpet, I have to break more bad news and inform him that now he has to pick up the pee on the bathroom floor. Do you still want kids? All the while my Sister-in-Law thinks her uterus is falling out! Yes, I know..different story for a different day.
So, the trip went well I think all in all.
Real Housewives of where? Yes, that's what I thought. I don't go grocery shopping all dressed up and in stilettos. I am as real as they get. In fact I am lucky if I walk out of the house without spit up on me and my shoes on instead of my slippers. (Yes, I have done that before and my 5 year old informed me after the fact that my slippers were on) We pay bills and have arguments over money and the children. I clean, cook, and make sure my daughter attends her pre school and gymnastics every week. And I don't use a limo or nanny. I have upgraded from my awesome 1500 GMC Sierra to the Buick Enclave with the 3rd row seat. Yes, I am a high roller now!
Real Housewife of Syracuse, NY!
March 29, 2013
The Three W's
I spent my first year of college in New York City.
The School of Visual Arts. It was the only college I applied to. If I didn't get accepted there, I wasn't interested in going to college at all. My parents tried very hard to convince me to stay close to home, maybe try out community college and save some money. They obviously didn't understand that I was an ARTIST. How was I supposed to gain any credibility as a SERIOUS ARTIST at a COMMUNITY COLLEGE in MARYLAND?
I couldn't have cared less that the cost of tuition for one semester at SVA was equivalent to four years at a local University. Money wasn't an issue...I knew paying back my student loans would be a BREEZE once I was molded into the next Ansel Adams. I had no doubt that once I was in the glamorous Big Apple, inspiration would hit me like a bolt of lightning and my career as a professional photographer would take off. Fame and fortune were undoubtedly in my future.
Much to my surprise, things did not go as planned.
Not even halfway through my first semester, I was crying uncle. I begged my parents to let me drop out and come back home. I felt less inspired than ever and had to face the harsh reality that there was absolutely nothing glamorous about that city. Carrie Bradshaw never said anything about trash lined streets and the constant smell of urine.
The stench of garbage and homeless person tinkle weren't the only factors that contributed to my short lived stay in Manhattan. My early departure can also be attributed to the three W's: wind tunnels, weirdos, and wieners.
1: Wind Tunnels: The wind tunnels in New York are absolutely awful. You never know when a big gust is going to hit. You could be strolling down Broadway, the weather seemingly quite agreeable, then turn on to Fifth Avenue and BAM. Next thing you know, the wind is blowing up your dress and you're flashing three thousand tourists your snack pack. Oh, and forget about using an umbrella on a rainy day...the wind would suck it into a useless pile of scrap metal no longer than thirty seconds after stepping outside.
2. Weirdos: So. Many. Weirdos. Typically, I embrace all things weird and wacky. I consider myself to be a pretty odd individual so when people warned me how "special" New Yorkers were, I brushed it off my shoulders...I knew I would fit in just fine. WRONG. I was SO wrong and COMPLETELY out of my league. My classmates watched midget porn during lectures (weird), took selfies of their flaccid penises for class projects (weird), and admitted to taking shadoobies on glass tables to arouse their significant others (WEIRD).
My classmates were definitely certified weirdos, but I think the weirdest person I stumbled across that year was the Turret's Fellow I met on the subway. I sat next to this man for an hour one day as he verbally assaulted every man, woman, and child that stepped foot in our train car. I felt bad for him at first because whenever he had an outburst, everyone would switch cars to get away from him and he would sadly yell, "IT'S BECAUSE I HAVE TURET'S ISN'T IT!?" I stuck it out with the poor guy for a while because I knew if I had this disease, I would want everyone to carry on with their business as usual.
Then he called me a "fucking whore" and things got awkward.
I hopped off and waited for the next train. It was definitely because he had Turet's.
3. Wieners: I saw more wieners during my first year of college than I would have seen at a state fair hot dog eating contest. One might suggest that many females see plenty of wieners during their first year of college...and to that I would say TRUE. BUT those skanks are seeing said wieners according to their own free will. The wieners I saw that year were NOT by choice. None of them.
As mentioned above, I saw lots of penises in photographs...but it doesn't stop there. Most of the woo-hoos I saw in New York were actually up close and in person. Apparently the subway is the best kept secret if you're looking to see some wang. I saw a dude checking out his disco stick in the reflection of the window on a train, I saw a fellow with his red rocket sticking out of the fly hole in his pants (which was NO accident), I even saw a man dry humping a fellow passenger one day during rush hour traffic. TECHNICALLY I didn't see his member, per say...but it was still way more than I bargained for.
My youngest sister is college hunting...as is my brother-in-law. Both of their top schools are New York City colleges. Whenever they ask me about my experience and whether I enjoyed my time in the city, I make sure I tell them about the three W's.
The School of Visual Arts. It was the only college I applied to. If I didn't get accepted there, I wasn't interested in going to college at all. My parents tried very hard to convince me to stay close to home, maybe try out community college and save some money. They obviously didn't understand that I was an ARTIST. How was I supposed to gain any credibility as a SERIOUS ARTIST at a COMMUNITY COLLEGE in MARYLAND?
I couldn't have cared less that the cost of tuition for one semester at SVA was equivalent to four years at a local University. Money wasn't an issue...I knew paying back my student loans would be a BREEZE once I was molded into the next Ansel Adams. I had no doubt that once I was in the glamorous Big Apple, inspiration would hit me like a bolt of lightning and my career as a professional photographer would take off. Fame and fortune were undoubtedly in my future.
Much to my surprise, things did not go as planned.
Not even halfway through my first semester, I was crying uncle. I begged my parents to let me drop out and come back home. I felt less inspired than ever and had to face the harsh reality that there was absolutely nothing glamorous about that city. Carrie Bradshaw never said anything about trash lined streets and the constant smell of urine.
The stench of garbage and homeless person tinkle weren't the only factors that contributed to my short lived stay in Manhattan. My early departure can also be attributed to the three W's: wind tunnels, weirdos, and wieners.
1: Wind Tunnels: The wind tunnels in New York are absolutely awful. You never know when a big gust is going to hit. You could be strolling down Broadway, the weather seemingly quite agreeable, then turn on to Fifth Avenue and BAM. Next thing you know, the wind is blowing up your dress and you're flashing three thousand tourists your snack pack. Oh, and forget about using an umbrella on a rainy day...the wind would suck it into a useless pile of scrap metal no longer than thirty seconds after stepping outside.
2. Weirdos: So. Many. Weirdos. Typically, I embrace all things weird and wacky. I consider myself to be a pretty odd individual so when people warned me how "special" New Yorkers were, I brushed it off my shoulders...I knew I would fit in just fine. WRONG. I was SO wrong and COMPLETELY out of my league. My classmates watched midget porn during lectures (weird), took selfies of their flaccid penises for class projects (weird), and admitted to taking shadoobies on glass tables to arouse their significant others (WEIRD).
My classmates were definitely certified weirdos, but I think the weirdest person I stumbled across that year was the Turret's Fellow I met on the subway. I sat next to this man for an hour one day as he verbally assaulted every man, woman, and child that stepped foot in our train car. I felt bad for him at first because whenever he had an outburst, everyone would switch cars to get away from him and he would sadly yell, "IT'S BECAUSE I HAVE TURET'S ISN'T IT!?" I stuck it out with the poor guy for a while because I knew if I had this disease, I would want everyone to carry on with their business as usual.
Then he called me a "fucking whore" and things got awkward.
I hopped off and waited for the next train. It was definitely because he had Turet's.
3. Wieners: I saw more wieners during my first year of college than I would have seen at a state fair hot dog eating contest. One might suggest that many females see plenty of wieners during their first year of college...and to that I would say TRUE. BUT those skanks are seeing said wieners according to their own free will. The wieners I saw that year were NOT by choice. None of them.
As mentioned above, I saw lots of penises in photographs...but it doesn't stop there. Most of the woo-hoos I saw in New York were actually up close and in person. Apparently the subway is the best kept secret if you're looking to see some wang. I saw a dude checking out his disco stick in the reflection of the window on a train, I saw a fellow with his red rocket sticking out of the fly hole in his pants (which was NO accident), I even saw a man dry humping a fellow passenger one day during rush hour traffic. TECHNICALLY I didn't see his member, per say...but it was still way more than I bargained for.
My youngest sister is college hunting...as is my brother-in-law. Both of their top schools are New York City colleges. Whenever they ask me about my experience and whether I enjoyed my time in the city, I make sure I tell them about the three W's.
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