Friday, June 29, 2012

Getting Steamed

When I made the decision to become a part time, one day a week, employee at my 12+ year job, I became worried over the whole money issue.
Not only did I not want to let it come between my husband and I (who rarely, if ever have a major disagreement other than I believe in actually changing light bulbs once they burn out), but I was concerned how our lives would change.
So, being the money saver that I already was (I love my Coach bags, all on sale), but not a crazy couponer-I still can't figure out how they do it!!!!- i investigated.  Knowledge is power.
Baby food and formula is insanely expensive!  Holy moly, not only would I have a new mouth to cloth and diaper (not to mention the toys, lotions, and baby wipes!)...his carbon foot print would start early with all those jars and containers.
So, along with breastfeeding (if I hear breast is best one more time, I may just scream.  Or cry.) I decided to make my own baby food.
Happily, I have to say not only is it kind of empowering (I love to cook, and steaming his food makes me feel very good and so mommy!!!) to know what exactly he's eating, but it's so incredibly, dare i say, cheap!
And easy.
I didn't waste any money (duh!) on a book, but started with an article in a baby magazine that I receive as a free subscription.
Simple....apples, cut into chunks, steam until soft, puree (my processor now has other things to do other than pesto!), place into ice cube trays, freeze. 
This recipe works for just about anything...and of course I logged onto other websites just to make sure.
And now, my freezer has a full top drawer for only $15 for almost a month of baby food.
Not sure if he likes the green beans, though.  Peas and apples?  Oh yeah! 
The rule?  Don't be afraid to try new things.  Sweet potato fries, fresh out of the oven?  Pureed for baby boy, yummy for mommy and daddy!
Now, if only he would stop eyeing my ice cream...

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Whatever Happened to Saturday Night?

We all have those friends.  You know the ones.  They told you while you were expecting that they would never see you again, like they were some psychic predicting the end of the world.
My husband and I have a small group of friends that started with a married couple with two boys, two single "boys" and us.  Saturday poker nights...every Saturday.  At the married with children home (no babysitter needed!).  This evolved into a high school friend and his wife (with son) moving back into town, which in turn revolved into the two married (other than my husband) forming a band to live out their high school fantasies.
Enter the girlfriends (now one wife and one fiance) for the "boys".
At this point, the Saturday game would still happen, but with less and less frequency.
Side note of importance...of this group, only myself and my other handsome half, as well as one "boy" (now husband) and wife were the non-smokers.
Back to the remark that started it all.  When we found out we were expecting, we were very conscious of what our shoulds and should nots were, and still are.
This included the smoking.
To say I get it would be a lie.  We know this effects your health in so many scary ways, not to mention the simple economic cost, I don't get why people smoke anymore.  Not to mention it's stinky, you don't look sexy, and you have to do laundry all the time.  And then add in that you have children?  If only for their health or the fear of not being there for them someday would scare me into at least trying my booty off to quit, let alone that it does effect their health if you smoke around them or in the same house, even if they are in a different room.
This, my friends, is why we don't get to see one another that much, if ever, and the band...and the new girlfriends, wives, etc.
My lil dude is the most important things to enter my life, and I just don't want him around it.
But how do you tell that to someone?
I don't.  More because I don't want to offend them or tell them what to do.
So, instead I've spurred the husband into finishing up the projects around the house so we can have them over...and ban the smokers to in front of the garage and away from everything that matters.
Maybe I should pick up so Nicorette?

Monday, June 25, 2012

Reinventing the Wheel?

When I started this blog, I was full of that indescribable feeling of new beginnings.  I somehow thought I would rock this mom role in a way that no other person had.  Or at least, unlike the moms I knew.  Granted, they are all wonderful, sometimes crazy, always loving, amazing women.  But, it worried me endlessly the things that would come out of their mouths while I was pregnant.
It was almost as if they wanted me dread the upcoming event that, really, I was so happy about.  (I didn't get overly moody or grumpy.  In fact, almost everyone who knew me said I was the happiest pregnant woman they had ever met.  And if you knew me, this would crack you up.  Not that I'm not happy...I am.  I laugh, joke...but I have a tendency to be very blunt at times.)
On to today.  My lil dude is going to be nine months old in a few days, and I'm amazed how much my life and perspective had changed.
The biggest lesson I've learned is that not everyone is the same.  Those afore mentioned mommies and their stories of husbands sucking it up because this is my body now, taking showers (OY!), and just absolute terror actually prepared me to just go with the flow.
Every month, just when I think I get things under control, it changes.  The good thing?  I love change.  With a splash of consistency. 
This month, I finally have lil dude sleeping totally on his own (at first, he would only fall asleep on me, which I loved but realised started to cramp my style after about five months) AND I'm using that time effectively for ME!
So, while I haven't totally reinvented the wheel, I've painted it different colors.

Monday, June 4, 2012

The Little Things...

I've found a new obsession since having the cutest (at least in my opinion) little man enter my life.
The baby section at Target.  Or Carter's...or Gymboree.  Or Kohl's.
Get the picture?
Yes, I still cruise the shoe dept. in Macy's and Dillard's, and check out all my previous "addictions" like before, but now, I have to stroll through and check out all the lil shorts, polos, and jammies.  Talking my dearest friend (who also happened to have her bundle of joy two months after me!), I found I wasn't alone.
Why am I doing this?
Did I also mention I have a need to get just about everything as cheap, er frugally, as possible?
So, new rule?
Little things (and great deals) are almost as good as a new pair of shoes...and even cuter!

Friday, June 1, 2012

To Sleep, Or Not...

When my lil bundle of joy first came home, he slept through the night within three days.  The first night, I literally was so exhausted from trying to keep on the whole feed him every two hours or he will starve (at least in my mind!) schedule that I truly believed the entire thing was a fluke designed to make me believe things could be really be this easy (little did I know!).  Then, it happened again.  Was I a horrible new mommy for not waking him up?  Then, I gave in.  Happily, my pediatrician told me to let him sleep (and insert angels singing). 
Fast forward seven months, and enter the what is wrong with him schedule.
This is what happens every three hours or so.
Husband rolls over and tries to whisper over crying not quite screeching baby, "What do you think he wants?"
Me, trying not to hit him with a pillow because, truly, I don't, contrary to popular opinion, speak baby just yet, "I don't know!"  Also trying to whisper even though at this point the lil dude in question is clearly not sleeping.  "Diaper?"
And so, off I go to diaper duty. 
Put him back down, crying continues.  Loudly.
Again, the husband asks.  I try not to get frustrated, understanding he is just as lost as me. (Meanwhile, in my mind, I'm bashing him with the pillow.  Hey, it's soft and won't really hurt him...)
"Teething?"  I reply.  To which husband crawls out of bed to get the frozen teething ring, which when he returns, lil dude gratefully chomps on. 
But, once again, put him down, and the crying begins.
Fine, I think.  If he's anything like dad, he's hungry. 
And he finally falls asleep.
Until three hours later.
Now, this doesn't happen every night, but more often than not...well, you get the picture.
New rule?  Not only can I not read the baby's mind, it's probably good the husband can't read mine ;-)