Motherhood Uncensored

And All I Got For Mother's Day Was a Trip to the ER

My super duper birthday/mother's day weekend extravaganza started off with a bang (dinner out, iPhone!, vomiting up the dinner out), and ended with one to Drew's head.

While I was out getting medicine for what I think is the flu (ah the achy legs, vomiting, and diarrhea), Drew pushed himself backwards in his booster seat and hit his head.

Four head staples, two donuts, and the shortest ever trip to the ER (literally 30 minutes tops), we're back and on the mend. I'm popping tylenol, he's popping Baby Motrin, and we're all thankful that we're alive and together today.

And down one really crappy kitchen table and chairs set.

Hope your Mother's Day was decidedly less eventful, at least when it comes to bodily injuries.

What to Wear at BlogHer 2008: A Sleeping Baby

If you don't have one, you might want to snag a wee baby before the BlogHer Conference this summer because they are the "it" accessory for mom bloggers these days. Granted, I would want a baby I could give back after the weekend since I value sleep almost more than my life, but the great thing about a going out with a baby is that you can wear anything and nobody cares.

And there's no need for a nametag because they know your baby.

The truth is, I would have never ventured out to a bar (note to readers: I was actually outside the actual bar) with Quinlan. In fact, I barely ventured outside of my house with her. It was work and then home again. I dreaded the post office, and the grocery store was a nightmare.

And the huz and I almost never had a night out because I was not privvy to this myth called "the trustworthy and responsible babysitter." That's really what they should give you when you check out of the hospital. A list of babysitters.

And The Rookie Moms Handbook.

I've known Whitney and Heather, self-proclaimed geeky girls, since I started blogging. We featured their site on Cool Mom Picks back in the olden days when it was an offshoot of this blog (did you even know that?) and I met both of them at my first BlogHer in 2006.

At the time, I was past my rookie year (basically the first 12 months of a baby's life) and so I didn't take as much notice about the cool stuff they were doing on their site. But if you happen to have a new baby (be it your first or your 16th -- you Duggar, you) or one on the way (oh wait, that's me!) their blog is a must-have resource.

And now so is their book.

It's nothing fancy (although I think it's a swanky looking little gift book) and the activities aren't brain science. They're mostly just common sense activities that you would never ever ever think of doing because you're too sleep deprived to even wipe your own ass or wash your armpits. (They actually give you a quick "how to shower with baby" rundown in the book).

Some of the activities might not appeal to you, but others are must-do-this-instant sort of things -- like emailing your baby. Snag an email with their name and forgo the baby book; just send them email updates of what they are doing, saying, pooping, you name it.

It sure would have saved me scrawling shit out in a stupid flimsy notebook, that's for sure.

This is definitely a book to keep in your "awesome shower gifts" stash. Kudos to them for taking their blog and making it into a kick-ass book. I'd try it with Motherhood Uncensored but I don't see my pubic hair post going over well at a baby shower.

Motherhood Uncensored for New Moms: Shave it Before You Have it. Well, it sort of has a nice ring.

And take my advice, maybe a bar isn't your type of outing with a baby, but the power of a fantastic mei-tai is worth its weight in gold. If my kid can sleep through the gabbing of super fabulous mom bloggers in a loud bar, getting out of the house to anywhere other than the mailbox might be something to think about.

Psst. Share your best, bizarrest, coolest, whatever rookie mom year outing and win some prizes (all weekend long). Go here to learn how to participate. WOO! And if you want to hear what the ladies sound like (and me too), check out my podcast with them!

And thank you thank you for your wonderful birthday wishes and sweet comments about The Today Show. If you live in NYC, I'd be happy to recommend a fantastic hair stylist, make-up artist, and eyebrow genius!

[photo via Rebecca Woolf]

Boob Man

We've been waiting impatiently for the 15 month language explosion to hit. Instead, it's just a bunch of ass and nose explosions, neither of which help me to understand exactly what my son is saying (except don't feed me all that yogurt and perhaps wash my hands a few more times).

I've become one of those moms who annoyingly states and repeats basic words to the point of the on-looker just wanting to say the word for the kid.

"BALL. It's a FUCKING BALL, lady. Now leave the poor baby alone."

It's not that he can't say anything. He consistently offers a resounding "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM" anytime food is brought to the table. That's always nice for this domestic zero's ego. And he makes "kissing" noises when you ask him what a duck says because my husband taught him to do that to get them to come over to him. We've since added "bwhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrr" for a truck and heavy panting for a dog or hot or both.   

And over the course of the last few weeks, he's said "mama," "ba" (ball), and "nana" (banana) with some intention. But then the lunar eclipse and the perfectly aligned stars pass over us and it is gone.

He's quite a talented "pointer n' grunter" so much so that we're bound to give him absolutely anything he wants off the kitchen table just to get him to stop. And he's taken to using a few ASL signs, with some fascinating interpretations -- my favorite being the hand to the mouth with loud sucking noise for drink.

Unfortunately, he's also decided to incorporate baby gangster language, like biting - or as he seems to be saying "Give me that toy, bitch," hitting - which is code for "Get the hell off my couch," and tossing things at people's heads (with uncanny aim); that's generally interpreted as "Don't mess with me with or I will cut you." (or as my daughter would tell you, "bruise my freaking forehead.")

So last night, during our nightly story hour, we were reading one of his favorite books*. And being the obsessive good mom that I am, I was saying every single word that he was pointing to. Without thinking, he pointed to the mom's large pregnant breast and I said "Boob."

"Boob!" he said, in his cute baby voice.

Oh Jesus. Are you kidding me? You're going to say that?

"What's that," I asked him, hoping it was just a fluke.

"BOOB!"

Now if I had known he was going to add "boob" to his vocabulary, I would have called it "breast" - being that I'm all for using the "correct" terminology, but I figured best to pad the word count for the 18 month doctor visit.

And "boob" is just way easier to say. You know, other than "jugs."

*Like many books we (and you) probably own, it is not one of my favorite books. But there are lots of renderings of babies, and he loves it.

Turn on the 'ight

Drew has been babbling almost non-stop for the last few months with extremely good intentions, but he has yet to say an actual word (including an intentional "mama" or "dada"). We thought he had said "dog" a couple of months ago, but turns out that was just "da" which, as we've learned, could mean anything from television to penis.

So to compensate he's been using what I call the "22-year-old ho at a bar" technique. He bats his eyes, does a little wiggle (and sometimes a belly flash), and smiles -- all of which sucker us into giving him exactly what he wants.

And then, if we give him the wrong thing, he just stands there pointing while saying "uh" for as long as it takes for us to figure out what "uh" means. It's like one of those demented Chinese game shows that I have never actually watched or enjoyed (ahem) where some poor yet totally willing contestant traipses through some impossible gauntlet with weirdly dressed people hold a battering ram ready to beat him into a pool of mud. Except I almost feel like that might be better than standing there like a complete idiot picking every single thing up off your kitchen table hoping it will make your toddler stop saying "uh." Not to be matched, of course, by reading a book or walking through the house and having to name every single thing he points to while saying "uh" or "da" or "at."

My husband tries to make it more interesting by using the actual name for things; so for any type of bird, I just say "bird" while he'll make it sound like he's some sort of ornithologist, spouting off words like "egret," "ostrich," and "emu." Probably why the poor kid has yet to say "bird" or well, anything for that matter.

Regardless, we've tried not to worry about his lack of language, particularly since the kid has been running since 10 months old and can clearly communicate (in his own caveman-like way) what he wants and needs. Plus, he can also sign "more" after we plead with him a few 100 times and withhold bananas and bread (his two favorite foods). So he's definitely trying to communicate, just not in English.

However, when you've got a daughter who uses the words "challenging" and "particularly" in regular conversation, and has been talking quite clearly since she was just around Drew's age, it's hard not to worry, if only just a little tiny bit.

But last night as I got him ready for bed, he pointed to the light on his dresser and I said "light." And then he said "IGHT!" And after a [10,000] few times of me asking him what it was to every light in our house he said it.

Either that or he thinks our choice in lamps is alright, or "A'ight" as the kids like to say.

Only 14 months and talking in slang.

I'm doomed.

--

If you want to see some pics of my trip, check them out here.

Playing the Name Game

We came up with Drew's name the day before I had him. Up until then we had absolutely nothing, which is great when people keep asking you what you're going to name the baby or like my in-laws did when they heard we had picked "Quinlan," offer us a list of "acceptable names."

No joke.

Even after Drew was born we still couldn't exactly figure out what to name him. There we sat, with our baby screaming from the warmer with no answer to all the excited nurses asking us what his name was. I'd always laughed about those people who took their kid home without a name, but that was almost us. And so, I laugh no more.

Since we almost had a no name baby here (or Chalk, as Quinlan named him), it's no surprise that this time around we have been struggling. But struggling is inordinately better than not having anything at all.

So we're trying to eliminate a few right now before we move onto the "You want to name our kid what? No fucking way!" round which, by the way, is always great for marital relations. I'd honestly love to hear your thoughts. Be specific. It's my kid's name for god sakes.

BOYS

Mozart (huge fan)

Emeril (huge fans, too)

Orville (like the popcorn, and you know, the plane thing)

Arkie (cute and where he was conceived!)

GIRLS

Electra (Loved the movie!)

Lavendar (Sort of like Violet but not)

October (It's her birth month, afterall -- plus, Halloween!)

Gerta (German Heritage -- cute family name)

Okay, so what say you? Love 'em, hate 'em...?? Now onto middle names. God help me.