Adventures in Breastfeeding

So with a number of friends with young babies, including myself, and more babies on the way for people I know, the topic of breastfeeding comes up. A lot. So I thought I'd share my thoughts.

*If you're not into this type of topic, I recommend exiting now.*

Ahhh, breastfeeding. It is such a beautiful thing... right??

Riiiggghhttt???

(insert awkward silence)

I know the topic of breastfeeding can be highly controversial...
Will you or won't you?
To feed in public or no?
Football hold or cradle hold?

The topic questions go on and on...

And somehow, for some reason unknown to me, once you have a baby, the topic becomes everybody's business. Strangers who never would have given you a second look in the airport, seem to suddenly have an opinion about you breastfeeding in the corner of the terminal, completely covered up and not drawing any attention to yourself of quiet, settled child. I am willing to bet these are the people who have never had kids before (that say "when I have kids, I'll never do that..." HA! We'll see...), so they don't understand the debacle that traveling with infants can be. Not just traveling, but going out to dinner or lunch as well.

(This is me jumping on a soapbox right now... when you see a breastfeeding mom... or just a frazzled mom, in general... traveling with her kid(s), do yourself and her a favor and extend some grace. As much as I try to ignore it - nothing irritates me more than people grunting and complaining about parents and their kids while traveling (especially those who do not have their own children). I guaran-damn-tee that mom wouldn't be traveling with her kiddos if she didn't have to. And she's probably doing EVERYTHING she can to make herself and those other adults around her more comfortable - even if that means breastfeeding. A baby eating is a baby that ISN'T crying. So get over it and look away.)

Anyway... sorry about that. Just had to get that off my chest. ;-) Moving on...

While I was still pregnant, I would have complete strangers ask me some of those breastfeeding questions I listed above.
(Here they are again, in case you forgot:
Will you or won't you?
To feed in public or no?
Football hold or cradle hold?)

And that's not okay.

Because let's be real. What they are really asking about is the Holy Grail of breastfeeding - my boobs. Friends and family asking is one thing... but strangers??

Well, I'm here to set the record straight. (At least my record.)

In my world, there was/is a love-hate relationship with the Holy Grail. It isn't all rainbows and hearts, flowers and unicorns, perfect necklines and smiling babies.

Allow me to elaborate.

They are loved because they are the life blood. The precious gold. The absolute best and healthiest option for feeding your precious little one. And they allow your pocketbook to stay relatively better stocked than the alternative would.

However...

You don't want to look at them.

You don't want to touch them. 

You don't want to even acknowledge their existence.

Rather than a nice "accessory" to an outfit, or shirt filler-outer, or even (ahem!) a sexual accessory of sorts, they immediately turn you into your child's own personal Turner Dairy Farm, pumping out milk in quantities that would fully stock your local Super WalMart....
(Or in my snobbish-case, Target. I tend find myself too fancy for Wally World these days. Namely because I like to still feel clean when I leave the store.)

Now, have you ever been to a dairy farm? Coming from a girl with relatives that own one of the larger dairy farms in the state of Kentucky, it ain't a pretty sight behind the scenes. I'll leave it at that and let your imagination run wild with mental images of cold, hard steel strapped to thousands of milk clogged udders. 

Upon the birth of your child, your boobs are immediately turned into feeding machines and nothing more. And as with all machines, they have to be taken care of. Which isn't so fun.

Let's start with showering. 

Ah, showering. Who knew taking a shower could be painful? Well, ladies, it is. With 57 gallons of milk literally just hanging out on your chest, the pain of standing up without some sort of bra support holding them up sucks. (No pun intended.) And it's hard to wash your hair and body using one or even two hands to support the feeding machines so they don't rip right off the front of you.

Also in the maintenance department, they must be drained every few hours. If not, this causes a multitude of problems that include, but are not limited to:
-aches
-leaks
-fussy babies
-mastitis
-fever
-chills
... the list goes on. And I've suffered from all of the above. #tmimaybe?

I breastfed both my children for a few months - and at the risk of sounding like a heartless and awful mother, it was awful. I wish I could say otherwise. I know TONS of moms who loved every sweet moment of breastfeeding and bonding with their baby and produced enough milk to feed their kids and starving children in Africa. (Literally - that's not a joke.) How awesome it that? I'm truly jealous.


Because it wasn't like that for me. I struggled to produce enough milk for my own two and my babies struggled because of it, no matter how often I fed or "pumped it up." They weren't happy and I wasn't either. They were hungry. I was tired and (quite literally) drained - all the time. I spoke with lactation consultants, OB's, pediatricians, friends, relatives... it didn't help. I know others who have had the same issue too. :-(

So with that being said, I will never, ever, EVER judge a mother who decides to fore-go breastfeeding. Yes, it is the healthiest option for our little ones, but sometimes Mama's gotta do what Mama's gotta do.

And for those of you who enjoy breastfeeding and your children thrived because of it - rock on, sister!! Keep it up!! (But just don't look down on those of us who weren't able to.)

Let the Vent-Fest Ensue

Disclaimer: This post is going to absolutely put in the running for "Worst Mom Ever." Maybe even to claim the reluctant title. But I've got to get it off my chest. Hopefully, I'm not the only parent who's ever felt like this. Let the vent-fest ensue...

Meda is officially one month old. It's been both the shortest and longest month of my life. Weird, I know, but it is true.

I wanted to share a few thoughts that have flown through my mind over the past month. Go ahead and judge me. I'm too sleep deprived to even give a newborn turd what anyone thinks at this point. Hell, I may regret this post (i.e. my confession), but whatever...


1) "When will this stage eeeeennnndddd????"

Okay, sure... the newborn/baby stage doesn't last long. I get it. Yes - "they're only small once." And "they grow up too fast." And "they're in college before you know it." And even the elusive "you are so blessed to have her."

I get it.

I really and truly do. But I'm exhausted. I'm literally dragging myself through each day at this point, just trying to survive.

Trying to feed the new baby, trying to feed the preschooler, trying to feed myself.

Trying to do the laundry, trying keep the dishes from becoming an intense game of Jenga, trying to sweep dog hair off the floor.

Trying to get work done, trying to run errands, trying to still be a good friend and wife.

Trying to hold the baby to keep her happy, trying to play "princess" with the preschooler to keep her happy, trying to not nag the husband to keep him happy.

Trying to keep everyone happy but myself.

Trying to just make it to the next time the baby naps.

Ugh... and let's not even mention the dogs. They basically don't exist in my mind anymore.  #PoorThings #AnybodyWantAnyDogs

As a self-proclaimed "non-baby" person... the whole "baby-ness" of these first few months is overwhelming. Plus, you are "around" roughly 678 times more than you would be normally. Meaning, you are basically on house arrest 99.999988% of the day and forced to be home with baby (especially if you are breastfeeding and the sole source of food) as well as how you are quite literally awake more than normal.

Storytime

There's no break. No off-time. No vacation. Your life begins a continuous three hour cycle of feeding, changing diapers, and cat napping. Along with all that other crap I listed above. You begin to live three hours at a time.

And for the record, three hours is not a lot of time to live. And it's exhausting trying to fit everything in and make everyone happy and not completely show to the world how much of a zombie you've become.

I'm just plain tired.


2) "Shut up already!"

The crying....

And the screaming....

Ohhhh, the screaming....

It. Doesn't. Ever. End.


3) "What did I do to deserve this??"

There's no way this type of punishment didn't come from some absolutely horrific and ghastly act on my part. I just wish I could remember who I murdered or what other heinous crime I committed to deserve this whole "parenthood" thing...

Oh, wait? I asked for this??

Hmmm....


4) "I am so in love."

How stupidly obnoxious is it that such a mini-person, one who weighs less than my upper leg, spits up all over my shoulder, lap and hair, and keeps my boobs aching 24/7 completely take over my heart?

In those rare moments when the darkness of sheer exhaustion and temporary baby hatred hasn't clouded over, I'll look at her little face - adorable in my biased mother eyes when she's not screaming or vomiting curdled breast milk all over me - and be completely blown away with love.

Annoying, right?

Normally, someone who treats us like newborns do would be tossed head first off the "I like you" cliff.... not to mention the "I love you" mountain....

But Meda, complete with screaming tantrums and sleepless nights, has completely stolen my heart, just like her sister did 4 years ago.

And I'll get through this. Just like I did before.

Three hours at a time.

Meet Meda Grayson!

Well, she's here. 

Meet the newest addition to our family, Meda Grayson.
(Pronounced Mee-da... like "me" and then "duh." Yeah, just like that.)

She arrived May 9th, at 6:32pm after eight hours and a rather rough delivery at 6lbs, 1oz and 20 inches long.

Below are a list of things I learned after experiencing giving birth to my second child and a few words of advice I have for pregnant peeps everywhere.

*Proceed at your own risk. 

** No seriously.... At your own risk. Gentleman - I recommend shutting your browser now.

*** For real boys, go ahead and shut 'er down. Now.

Good. Now, we can proceed.....

• I still believe epidural's should be available to pregnant women everywhere starting at 38 weeks.
• Epidural's are quite possibly the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• Just because you are in a flubby hospital gown that only covers half of your body all day and then your woman parts suddenly become public display for anybody walking by your hospital room, that doesn't mean that your face shouldn't be covered up while in labor. I believe every woman should be wearing makeup at all the times in the last couple weeks of pregnancy. You don't want to risk going into labor without it. Cameras are everywhere. And with smartphones and social media at the level it is these days, Lochness monster pictures of you can pop up on the interwebs without approval at any given moment. So don't become a statistic. Let us ban together to end the era of woman looking like crap before, during and after labor. The whole process is going to rock your body physically, so let's not add to it by being lazy with our faces. So please, at the very least wear some mascara. Remember: eyes and lips at all times, ladies... eyes and lips! 
• Epidural's are the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• IV injection is one of the most highly deadly forms of medicine insertion. Upon looking at an IV and after it's insertion with the nurse muttering self-encouraging words under her breath, "We have to save it. Don't lose it!"; one's blood pressure is at risk to bottom out and cause fuzzy vision, yellow skin coloring and possibly even death.   
• Epidural's are, in my opinion, the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• When/if your child is positioned so incorrectly they are unable to come out and your doctor offers to help "vacuum" your child out of you or else be forced to perform a c-section, BEWARE. Proceed with the vacuum ONLY if you have the stomach for teams of 8+ medical personnel to swoop in SWAT team style, decked out in head to toe battle gear (face masks included!), doctors tripping backwards as vacuums come unsealed and high flying fluid...........Yeah......... All that happened. BEWARE.
• Epidural's are still the most fabulous invention in modern medicine.
• Ladies - before going in for a vaginal delivery (Ugh. I just said "vaginal." Gross. #YesIAmStillTwelveYearsOld....), make sure to stock up on adult diapers for the weeks and months after. NOBODY EVER TELLS YOU THIS INFORMATION UNTIL IT IS TOO LATE! So here it is. You need to be prepared to bleed out from between your legs for an enormously ridiculous amount of time. I'm talking weeks and possibly even months. And there's a cleansing process every time you go to the restroom that is just straight up NOT cool.  So be ready. *Note: This may not be needed for c-section deliveries. I wouldn't know because I chose to VACUUM my kid's head out of my woman parts. Gross, gross.
• Finally, have I mentioned yet that epidural's are absolutely the most fabulous invention in modern medicine?

Below are some pics from the war zone. Don't be fooled by the happy-go-lucky atmosphere the pictures portray. The 2 hours in between these "before" and "after" pics, shit got real.

But we now have the battle prize; an amazing, healthy and perfect little girl.  Praise God. :-)

Don't look too close or you'll see MK also had a "baby in her belly"

And of course, the unicorn had to be there to witness everything.

McKenna meeting her sister for the 1st time. One of my fav pics!

Why the husband decided to take pics of me while I checked my all social media sites, I'll never know.

This board perfectly appeased my O.C.D.

Watching 

McKenna wasn't about to skip out on IG's #VSitMonth 

First family photo

Meda Grayson

So we finally decided on a name for Baby Fun Numero Dos.

After a couple months of Bryant shooting down every name I threw out there deliberating, we came up with it.

Meda Grayson.

"Meda"... (Pronounced Mee-dah)... was The husband's great grandmother. We both immediately loved the name because its got that "old" sound to it and it has family meaning.

"Grayson" comes from Grayson County, where my entire family hails from in Kentucky. I love, love, love this name for a girl, but Bryant pictures it more as a boy name, so we decided to pair it with Meda to give it more of a feminine feel.

True to our baby's soon-to-be Southern heritage, we toyed with a list of double names as well. In fact, I like the sound of "Meda-Grace" and may end up calling her that. I call McKenna, "McKenna Rayne" all too often also. Though we never intended for MK's to be used together all the time. Habit on my part, I guess.

Anyway, so there she is.

Baby Fun #2 = Meda Grayson.

Below is a photo of her from our 3D ultrasound we had last week.

It's a GIRL!

Just before the holidays, we found out that Baby Fun #2 is a GIRL!!  We are thrilled and McKenna couldn't be happier to have a little sister on the way! 

A friend of mine, Molly, was generous and hosted a gender revealment party at her house with a group of close friends. Below are some pictures and a video from when we opened the box! 

And no - Bryant or I had no idea what color balloons were coming out of the box before opening!

(Sorry the video is fuzzy... I don't know why it did that!) 

At the end of the video, McKenna said, "I told ya!"

Haha!

 

MK helped make the box!

She was SO pumped!

9 Weeks

12 Weeks

19 Weeks
The "TMI" photo!

19 Weeks

19 Weeks

New Goals & Plans

So I've reworked some of my race goals for the fall and spring and decided to share them with you.

I had almost signed up for quite a few big races this fall and spring. One was the St. Jude Half Marathon in December this year and also the Rock 'N Roll FULL Marathon this coming April... which just happens to be on my 30th birthday. What a cool 30th birthday, right? I planned on finishing my first full marathon on my 30th. Pretty sweet, right? Yeah, I thought so too.

 Well, anyway - with the "help" of my husband, I've put together some even bigger and better goals though. I have had these new goals before. Once about four years ago and the other was earlier this summer (but we all know how this summer turned out. Bad news, Bears.).


Fall Goal = Don't Get Fat  Spring Goal = Don't Get Too Fat

(A little hint in case you don't understand the not-so-subtle hints I've been dropping and/or the picture: Our family is growing. By two feet. Get it??? Think about it.... Ahhh... good. Some people have had a hard time with this picture. Luckily, none of you are slow on the intake, right? ;-) )

Yes, we are going to be parents. Again.

Lord, help us.

So there went my race plans for the fall and spring. Unfortunately, on my 30th birthday I'll be about the size of a small, medium, somewhat large, gigantasouric blue whale and more than likely will be unable to waddle 26.2 miles. And I am absolutely okay with this. After what happened last time, I want to make sure to take care of myself and not over do it with the running, which I didn't do this summer. (Remember how I decided to P.R. every race I ran there for a month or two? Probably not the best plan.) No worries my fellow runners, I'm not completely giving it up, but I've decided to hold off on the races and hard training. Just some slow jogs for me over the next months.

So yeah.... back to this poor child that is stuck with Bryant and I for parents. We're so excited for him or her to show up this May (approximately May 15th). I actually found out on the day of the first Road Race Series 10K, and have been anxiously waiting for our first ultrasound appointment to make sure all looks well. Our first appointment this week went fantastic, and we saw a STRONG heart beat and the little critter moving around like crazy!

9 weeks

So being the private person I am, I came home from that appointment and immediately blasted our announcement on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. #typical

Anyways, we are thrilled and feel so blessed that all is well thus far. Here's to praying the rest of the pregnancy goes skinny well.    

A No Good, Very Bad Day

(I wrote this post yesterday but didn't post it and really hadn't planned on it at all. Though I decided to just go ahead and post today anyway. I'm physically feeling better today than yesterday... But yeah... Here it is.)

Well, where to begin? It's always hard to know what to say exactly in this type of situation. I don't even know if I'll end up clicking "publish" on this blog post because quite frankly - nobody needs to know, but hell... I'll write it anyway... whatever.

So today I had my second "female" doctor's appointment within a month. After this appointment I had expected to leave and finally happily announce to the world that Bryant and I would be expecting our second child. Instead, we walked away with the news that our baby's heart was no longer beating and he or she had died most likely about two weeks ago.

Yeah, I know. Talk about a shitty blog post topic.

This is definitely not the post I was wanting to write today, or had been EXPECTING to write. We found out the day after Cinco de Mayo that we were expecting (that would be May 6th for all you non-Mexicans out there. You are welcome for that clarification. I did live in New Mexico for 10 years, so I know a thing or two about Spanglish, margaritas, & empanadas...), and we have had the worst time keeping it a secret for the past month and a half since we were so excited! Luckily, God knew it would be best for us to NOT tell anyone yet (besides family & a few close friends) because He knew it would only be that much harder later on.

While I am extremely sad, and really unsure of what to think, feel or do right now (except cry my eyes out), I am so thankful that our baby is in better Hands now than he or she ever would have been with us. God decided to take our baby for a very good reason.... even if I don't know what that is. I'll find out someday, so it's okay. The whole situation is really sad, but I know with all my heart that God only works for GOOD! It says so in Romans 8:28... And that is what brings me the most comfort. This may sound corny, but I am absolutely stoked to go to Heaven someday to meet him or her. I have no doubt in my mind (especially after reading "Heaven is For Real") that he or she is there waiting for Bryant, McKenna, and I to show up! And yes - I absolutely believe that 5 year old little boy's story about visiting Heaven. Just because he still believed in Santa doesn't mean he didn't sit in Jesus's lap and meet his own unborn sister. :-)

I know miscarriages are pretty common (something like 1 in 5 women have one, I think?), but that doesn't seem to be making it any easier. I can't help wondering if it's easier for us now than it would have been 10 weeks, 10 months, or 10 years down the road? I'd like to hope so, but either way - it's never easy to lose a child... (Romans 8:28, Romans 8:28, Romans 8:28...)

So now what, you ask? I get to sit back, relax, and wait for this miscarriage to happen over the next 24 hours. Ugh. Talk about a blasty blast.

So there you have it. Today officially sucked. And so will tomorrow, I'm sure. But besides all the wasted mascara, I'm alright. We're alright... Or at least will be. :-) I have faith.

Matthew 18:14 - "So it is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish."
Romans 8:18 - "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."
Psalm 34:18-19 - "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all."
Romans 9:11 - "Though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad—in order that God's purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of him who calls—"
Jeremiah 29:11 - "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Romans 8:28 - "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, whot have been called according to his purpose."

Thank you in advance for your thoughts, prayers, & patience as I blubbered through this post. Luckily, for all of us, you can't hear or see the tears, mascara, & and ugly cry faces I've made while typing this.

Oh yeah, and a word to the wise... if you are an expecting mother, never, EVER, EVER google the word "miscarriage" and then click "images." A very bad idea for the emotionally unstable.

When PreSchool Mama's Attack

So I've been meaning to post this, but just haven't yet....probably due to the fact that I was dreading re-living this day. It's now two weeks later, and I've recovered. Enjoy.

February 1, 2010 

So, today I experienced what I believe to be the first of MANY weird sacrifices I will most likely make for my daughter. What did I sacrifice? Oh, ya know....only my life. Let me start at the beginning....

Bryant and I made the decision to enroll McKenna in pre-school come this fall. Yes - she'll only be a little over a year old, but we want to provide her with every opportunity to learn and grow to her full potential, as any parent would. Besides, she needs to get out of the house and hang out with kids other than Bryant. (Yes - that was a small pathetic attempt at a sarcastic jab in my husbands direction. Just go with it.) So we did a little (okay, okay - minimal) shopping around for day cares/pre-schools and settled on Hope Church's pre-school program. I liked this program mainly because it is an actual SCHOOL and not just day care. Plus, it's a part of a church, so the teachers there HAVE to be nice to my kid, right??

  

So like any school that starts in the fall, registration is in the spring. February 1st at 5:00pm, to be exact. I planned on showing up right around 5:00, maybe 4:50-4:55 if I was feeling a little over-zealous. No big deal, right? Wrong. At the "Open House" Bryant & I attened, they ever-so nonchalantly mentioned how there are only 14 spots available in MK's age group and how last year registration started at 8am and people started lining up at 3am to get in. SERIOUSLY? So in order for McKenna to "get in" I had to go wait in line FIVE hours prior to the start of registration??? I guess I didn't realize this wasn't like public schools where they'll take any hooligan who walked through the doors. Damn! And the 1st was a Monday, so that means Bryant & I would have to strategically plan out our day accordingly if we wanted McKenna to get in to this program. 

Turns out Bryant had stuff to do that day, and I had work. Ugh. Luckily, my boss is super cool and I can easily work from my laptop pretty much anywhere, so she gave me the go-ahead to sit in line with my computer. (Plus, she has a year and a half year old little boy whom she had on a preschool waiting list PRIOR to his birth. And PRIOR to knowing if he was a male or female. I love it! So she totally understands and gets where I'm coming from with this whole "every opportunity" parent thing.) So my mom came into town to help babysit McKenna that day while Bryant did his thing and I did my pre-school wait in line for hours thing. 

Here's the basic run down of the day: 

8:00am. I'm not taking any chances....drive to the church, back pack loaded down with my computer and some extra work to be done. Nobody's here and doors are locked. Damn. It would have been easier to set up shop right then, but with no power outlet, my computer is likely to go on strike. Ugh. Oh well. I'll go home and return in a couple hours. (There was NO WAY I was waiting in the 32 degree Memphis weather outside for 8-9 hours).

10:15am. I've eaten breakfast and gotten a jump start on some emails. Feeling good. Head back to the church with my computer. Nobody's in the parking lot and doors are still locked. Didn't they say to get here "early?" WTF? I thought so too....alright, maybe I'll come back again in a couple hours.

12:00pm. If I go over there and the doors are locked ONE MORE TIME after packing up all my work crap, I might freak my freak. Time to pick up the phone and call. Dialed. No answer. Alright - doors must be locked. I'll wait a little while longer. I have more emails to catch up on anyway... 

2:00pm. Ugh. I should probably check again to see if it's open yet. I only live one mile from the place, so I'll drive over and if it's open, I'll come back and get my computer. Hop in the car with no computer. 

2:02pm. F!! Pre-School Mama's (known as PSM's from here on out!) are lined up waiting in their cars!! Oh HELL NAH!! They are NOT going to beat me in line today! I've already been here multiple times, so technically, I was in line before them! I park my ass right in the middle of a line of cars. Time to sit and wait. 

2:15pm. Alright, I need to get some work done, but can't risk moving from this spot. Call the husby and ask him to bring me my computer. I start strategizing my sprint finish for when they unlock the doors. Good think I wore my running shoes.... 

2:17pm. Who does that PSM think she is getting OUT of her car and walking up to the door? You JUST drove up! There's NO WAY you're going to be allowed to cut in front of us who have been sitting in our cars and ever-so-politely-ignoring-each-other-while-working-on-our-plan-of-attack. 

2:20pm. Janitor sees PSM outside locked door and let's her in!!! OMG!! Time to get serious! Sorry husby - you're gonna have to find me inside. All of us PSM's jump out of the car simultaneously. I walk quickly/speed walk/borderline run to the now unlocked doors. Victory. I beat them all. (See? I KNEW all that half-marathon training would pay off! 

2:25pm. I park myself fourth back in line(Annoying, I know. But the PSM who walked up to the door first had her sister and a friend with her, so I felt bad ordering them to the back of the line. Hey - I'm a nice person, alright? BUT no worries. Their kids were all older than mine, so I was still FIRST in line for McKenna's age group. BOOYAH!) 

2:30pm. Bryant shows up with the computer and a yummy Lenny's sandwich. Jackpot. Now I can feed my face and get some more work done. 

3:00pm. Whoa now. The line has more than DOUBLED in size of what it was. PSM's keep showing up, gawking at the length of the line and trying to cut.(In their defense, the line ended up facing the direction of the door, so it looked like the front was actually the back.) But they were quickly shot down by the five of us who were in the very front. 

3:15pm. A rather upscale-looking PSM arrives and stands non-chalantly on the other wall opposite of me. Without making eye contact with anyone, she sets her massive Fendi handbag down on the floor and leans against the wall. Myself and the other PSM's look at each other with that evil gleam in our eyes. Oh yes. We understood alright. This PSM was planning on making a last second dash for the front without claiming her rightful spot at the BACK of the line. Myself and the pack of PSM's at the front would not allow this. We'd better go in for the kill early. We silently planned out our attack. The fearless leader of our line politely, yet forcefully informed the out-of-line PSM that the end of the line was "back that way" with an extended arm point. Long pause. Out-of-line PSM hesitates (to decide a plan of action, no doubt), then slowly leans down to grab her bag with a mumbled, "thanks." She unwillingly waltzed her way to the back of the line and took her spot. Whew. Crisis averted. Someone could have gotten hurt. Glad she didn't put up a fight or it could have gotten nasty. 

4:55pm. Fast forward to almost 2 hours and a plethora of PSM's later. The Pre-School adminstrator decides to show up. The line of PSM's get restless and antsy. 5:00pm. Administrator begins taking registration forms and our hard earned PSM non-refundable registration money. 

5:00:48pm. I walked up to the desk with a big smile and my forms. Administrator takes them and says, "Thank you. Have a good night." 

Wait.....That's IT? My entire life wasted away today in a church parking lot and hallway and that's all I get?? A measley SIX words?? I feel as though I should have at least gotten some sort of certificate for wasting my day like that. Or at the VERY LEAST a "HIP HIP HOORAY!" Hmpf! They are rather anti-climatic at Hope Church if you ask me. 

So moral of the story. I think I'd rather wait in line for Miley Cyrus tickets (Ugh! Gag me!). At least I'd have some immediate gratification. And Hope PreSchool had BETTER accept her for my day of lack of work done that day and the torment I endured sitting on that hard church floor with the other PSM's. 

Or else.... Tune in next month for the announcement of her acceptance or rejection.

Day Alone With Mom

So I'll go ahead and throw it out there. Bryant is the World's Best Dad. That's not an exaggeration. And I....well....I'll settle for the World's Most Mediocre Mom.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not a BAD mom by any means ("bad" is a relative term, right?), just not the greatest. I can effectively change a diaper, prepare a bottle, and play with a baby for the most part. But I can't even begin to try and claim the top spot. That would be what some might call a heaping plate of Shenanigans. I'll go ahead and throw something else out there. A small random fact to back up my claim. I am NOT a patient person. Bryant is. Which is why he's the perfect parental unit to be with McKenna most days while I work full time.

Well, the patient half of this parental team had to leave town today, so that left me at home alone with McKenna. No wait....let me rephrase that. That left McKenna home alone with me. AHHH!! (Side note: I have been alone with my daughter in the past, this is just the first time I documented it.) Well, I decided after her habitual condor crap (see my Can someone please quickly tell me how to raise a human being post for more explanation of this terrifying daily ritual) to go ahead and try to document the day in pictures.

It started out well, then slowly got worse. 

There was laughter and smiles.

There was fun and games.

There was baby food everywhere.

There were no naps.

And then there was screaming.

Yes - screaming.

Blood curling screams. Worse than in any screams you read about in R.L. Stein's infamous "Fear Street" books. (You remember those awesome pre-pubescent series of "horror" stories. It was that bad.)

I was finally able to calm her down about 7:30pm with a yummy bottle of Nestle's Good Start Formula (that's my plug for my sister's company, Nestle! McKenna and I both say thanks for the food Aunt Katie!) Anyway, below are some of the pictures I took throughout McKenna's day alone with mom!

Fun Times!

Happy with some food!

And then it starts....she decided the food would look better thrown around the house instead of in the bowl! AHH!! A neat freak's nightmare!

Lucy enjoyed the clean up process much more than I did....

Then she gave me attitude for whatever reason....

Once cleaned up, it started to get bad when trying to play again. Guess she was over the game of "Peek-a-Boo!" after the bazillionth time.

So I finally got baby to sleep for a couple hours, and BAM! 10:00pm hits! It's time to wake up and party again!

Unfortunately, this is where the pictures end. More screaming insued when I tried to get her back to sleep. Pacifers were thrown. It got bad there for a second. But luckily, (thank you again to my sister and Nestle Good Start Formula) there's currently a sweet sleeping baby laying next to me as I finish writing this. Oh what a day....