My love affair with TurbiTwist, or how I am extra lame

Just a half-Mothra in this shot. Extra gorgeous.

A week or so into being a full-time working mum of 2, I realize that having a turbitwist really is an essential item in my daily life.

My mother-in-law gave it to me as a joke gift at Christmas and I actually didn’t regard it as a joke. It wasn’t funny, it was practical. And kind of awesome. And my sister-in-law got one too. She might have been less excited about it than I was, but she is a decade younger than me so that pretty much explains that.

I’d used it on and off since Christmas and let me just say that it never ever ever looks as stylish on me as it does on the packaging model. I look like the hugest nerd ever, with extra big ears. My ears aren’t that big; somehow the towel accentuates their size, turning me into Dumbo. Or Mothra. yes, I think thats a better comparison. Powder blue towel head with enormous Mothra ears on either side.

I look ridiculous.

But

BUT.

Guess what saves time in the morning? Washing your hair at night.

And guess what sucks for people who have ridiculously curly hair and live in a State like, say, Florida, where it’s extremely hot and humid and rainy and tropical all the time? Not having enough time in the morning to sort out said hair, leaving the house with it wet/damp and looking ridiculous in a professional setting as a result.

Yup. That is the epitome of suckage. I might have been able to get away with it when I was in my twenties, but since I am now firmly in my mid-thirties it really is pretty damn sloppy to hit the road in the morning like that. Especially in Florida when it quickly turns into Giant Clown head.

And so? Yes, it’s true. I now wash my hair at night and throw it up in a turbi twist and sleep with it like that. And in the morning, my hair is mostly tame and only requires the merest whisp of flat iron to behave. And this, in between the insanity of feeding a baby, feeding a preschooler, walking the dog, my husband juicing a million fruits and veg for what seems like hours, avoiding getting covered in formula, getting covered in formula, changing my clothes again, slapping on some makeup, driving to Eleanor’s daycare and then speeding into the office… Well, this really does help the morning run smoother.

I also think this really helps bolster my ‘cool mom’ factor. Well, even if it doesn’t (which is really hard to believe), my hair has been looking pretty amazing.

Get one. It will change your life. xoxo a.m.

More about boobs

“Happy Mother’s Day! I filled this diaper just for you!”

Mother’s Day is, I feel, the equivalent of Valentine’s Day. Another one of those ‘manufactured holidays’ hyped by card companies to generate revenue. And also, I need to chime in on that Time cover too. Just like everyone else! I know you want to read all about it. Seriously. You do.

How to lose your child in a department store (A Guide)

This is what not running looks like...

First of all, and this part is really important, try to make sure that you get infected with pinkeye 2 or 3 days prior to attempting to lose your child. This, I feel, really heightens the event by increasing not only your uncomfortableness but skewing your vision as well.

And ideally this will all take place on a Sunday. And if all of the stars are aligned properly, it will also be Mother’s Day.

We very politely crossed the parking lot, holding hands, and entered the building. We went and collected a shopping cart, V scooted in and off we went. Just browsing, I picked up a cute work shirt, grabbed some Mickey Mouse pj’s for Little Man and was perusing some trinkets WHEN. WHEN

He picked up 2 watches from a display table and did a runner.

And while running away from me? He kicked off his sandals, gained momentum and disappeared between the brassieres…

Oh my god. There were way to many brassieres. It was like finding a needle in a jungle. And V is like a huge chubby needle, with no shoes, but I still couldn’t find him.

Not in the men’s long sleeve shirt section. Not amongst the kitchen goods.

Where was he? I had no idea. Edward called me while I was looking… Transcript to follow:

E: “Happy Mother’s Day sweetie!!”

J: “I lost our child.”

E: “What. What!”

J: “Ya. I’ll call you back.”

*Click*

5 or possibly 10 minutes later, a giggly, blonde, curly mess with no shoes tore around the corner of a display, watches in hand. And perhaps the cheekiest grin you have ever seen in your whole entire life. Unless you are me. Then, you see a new one ever single day.

So to recap trying to capture this delicious moment…

Plan on pinkeye. Aim for little to no sleep for at least 2 days prior to the event. Also, having your husband sleeping downstairs on a futon because he doesn’t want to catch your disease. Very important. If you also have a fever and  sinus congestion while this is all going on, even better. I feel it really heightens the emotional reward.

xoxo a.m.

(My Mother’s Day sucked. Except for that part when my child was sleeping)

Touch

Some may say that it is an easy moment to remember, that moment when they became a mother. And for most, I would think it is fairly obvious.

“I gave birth to a child, hence motherhood”.

Thanks, Captain Obvious, for that. I don’t think I could have figured it out.

Or maybe, it’s that firm attachment to your pet. We started off with a dog, before progressing on to human motherhood. I am that little dog’s mother. Whether he likes it or not. Especially when he is peeing in places he shouldn’t. Which is all the time. Then I am one of those ‘Mummy-Monsters’.

Or maybe it is that first time your little person gets really sick. It’s like those mothering feelings just erupt out of you, you know exactly what to do.

Motherhood changes you, even if you don’t notice. It makes you less tolerant of your sick husband (partner). Sorry honey!! Must cook baby dinner/do baby laundry/wash baby/read to baby/etc etc etc. That little man has reached a much higher level of awesomeness than you. And will stay at that level. FOREVER. So no more asking for egg on toast.

I digress…

Motherhood is this total mystical, spiritual, wellspring of eternal knowledge, ‘I am all knowing’, freakin’ crazy amazing thing.

Right now, my own mother is visiting me. And she is sick.

As a new mother, here are the things I can’t help but do:

1) an ever present glass of water

2) ‘The best question ever… “Is there anything you need??”

3) Speak in a soothing voice

4) Sway back and forth. By myself. On a separate surface than she…

5) Look worried and impose that worry on everyone else.

6) “Would you like some tea???”

It is really amazing how much stereotypical ‘mom’ came out of my mouth during my conversation with  my sick mother in her darkened bedroom.

I stood up from the bed, bent over and kissed her on the forehead, while my free hand soothingly stroked her brow and automatically tucked her hair back. Apparently this is something I have been doing for my whole life, that is how casual it felt.

What was this!?!? This automatic gesture? Where did this come from? Was it in the manual?

No, my sweet mothers, it is just motherhood. We all have it, whether we use it on our dogs, cats or delicious babies. But how funny to use it on your own dearest mother.

Dearest Mother, please get better….

xoxo a.m.

Secret club

I just started reading “The Happiest Toddler on the Block” in an effort to prepare myself for what will certainly happen and/or what is already happening.

The whole tag line of the book is “How to eliminate tantrums and raise a patient, respectful and cooperative child”. Now this sounds like a great plan to me! We’ve dabbled a bit in the tantrum pool… just a bit… However, if V is a combination of M and I, then for sure we will have some huge issues with stubbornness (me) and argumentativeness (M). Ok, both of those apply to both of us.

So far it is interesting. Basically it states that toddlers are like cavemen because their little brains are too immature (with patience, logic and language). It discusses key ways to communicate with children in order to decrease poor behavior. Some things I feel a little unsure about… it’s a tricky issue to tackle!

I mean, I see the point that Dr Karp is making, but at the same time I am unsure if I seriously am capable of doing the following:

Vincent says ” You want! You want! You want…. want…. WANT!! You want bottle now, right now!! But wait a minute honey, first we need to sit in our highchair before we have the bottle”.

Am I really capable of speaking like this? Without feeling like a total retard?! Not sure….

Toddler-ese is what this is called, and apparently (according to this book) it is quite effective. Is it?

I desperately hope so, especially as I am reading the ‘success’ stories and am imagining V and I as the end result of these stories. Minus the ‘ese’. Well, there might be a little bit of ‘ese in the house, but in public? That is where I feel a little bit iffy…

And lets ignore the fact that I already point and narrate everything when I am out in public with V. And sing songs. And blow raspberries. And really could care less who sees or hears me do all of these ridiculous things. Reading this book about advocating this sort of behavior times 50 makes me….well….laugh actually.

It makes me laugh as is is the greatest thing ever to glance across at another mum and realize that she is pretty much exactly on your path. As different as all of us mums look, we are all reading, doing and pretty much thinking the same thing. ALL THE TIME. How refreshing is it to know that you are not the only one reading and thinking these things.

It is a lovely secret membership and I welcome it. And am grateful for that unspoken support… xoxo to all my mums out there from a.m.