When You’re Not Allowed to Ask for Help….

Kiefer recently returned from a 2-week trip. That means it was just me, Scout, and Ozzy ALL the time. Plus Boo and Radley for a couple nights.

Whenever Kiefer leaves—as in within minutes of him getting on the plane and turning off his cell phone—Boo and Radley’s mom calls.

Their Mom: Can you keep the boys tonight/tomorrow night/whenever?

Thoughtsy: Yes….

Forget that I already have plans or have nothing they’ll eat for dinner or was really just looking forward to sitting around pantsless.

This happens for each of Kiefer’s trips…multiple times a trip. To the point that I felt like she knew I wouldn’t say no, so she was taking advantage of the situation.

Two weeks is a long time to not see Boo and Radley, so it’s nice to see them while Kiefer’s away.

But it’s not so nice when I have to pick Radley up from school, take Scout for a drive to nap because she’s transitioning from 3 naps to 2, have to pick up Boo from basketball practice, and make dinner. And the last three things happen in the same 45-minute period.

I need time to mentally prepare myself for that kind of craziness. Not an hour’s notice.

To avoid me having a breakdown while Kiefer was away, he sent his ex an email with the days the boys would stay at our house.

Cue nastiness. She got angry. Said the boys didn’t have to stay there at all and that she could just keep them the whole time.

When the first day rolled around that Boo and Radley were supposed to stay with me, I wasn’t sure if they were coming or not. They came. It was a jam-packed night, but we made it through.

Dear Kiefer’s Ex,

Remember what it was like with your first baby? Remember that you had no idea what you were doing? Remember when you would take the baby for a drive because it-just-won’t-nap-and-you-just-want-to-take-a-shower-dang-it?

Now throw in two other children—who are yours, but not yours. You’re a stepmom, and you really don’t want to lose your patience or temper (SHHHHH! The baby is SLEEPING!) with your stepchildren lest they start dubbing you the “evil stepmother.”

I’m a new mom. I’m a new stepmom. And I’m new to single-parenting…even if it’s only for 2 weeks. All I’m saying is…I need some help, some notice, some understanding.

Thanks, 

Thoughtsy

PS: Kiefer’s next trip is next month, so please reread this letter in January.

Oh Where, Oh Where Can My Baby Be?

Dear Pod People,

Please return my baby. My perfect little baby who…

• Takes 3-4 45-minute naps a day every 2 or 2.5 hours.
• Sleeps through the night for 10 hours.
• Puts herself back to sleep when she wakes up.
• Sleeps in her crib.

I do not appreciate the pod baby you have left in her place. You see, the pod baby is teething.

Don’t be fooled by the cuteness. This IS a future pod person.

The pod baby you see above is not as easy going as my baby. This pod baby nurses to sleep, wakes up an hour later, must fall back asleep on me, and then wakes up every time she goes back into the crib, so I finally give up and bring the pod baby into Mommy and Daddy’s bed where the pod baby decides every few hours that she must sleep on me, not next to me.

And, of course, I get no sleep because I’m convinced I will either roll on said pod baby or roll over while the baby is on top, which will send the baby onto the floor.

I was willing to take care of the pod baby until my husband and I had this conversation:

Thoughtsy: When does the teething stop?

Kiefer: I think they have all their teeth around 2 years.

Thoughtsy: NOOOOOOOOOO!

So there you have it. Just when I thought sleep was once again mine for the taking, I find out there’s another year and a half of no sleep.

Faaaaaantastic.

Who Snuck the Hooch to the Baby?

Dear Baby,

Last night after our midnight bladder emptying, I settled onto the couch so Kiefer could actually sleep while I spent the next 2 hours trying to find a remotely comfortable sleeping position. (Which I now know is impossible.)

About 20 minutes later when I finally resigned myself to the fact that I was as comfortable as I was ever going to get, you started hiccuping.

W…T…F….

And you kept hiccuping for-ev-er. So I can only assume you’ve been drinking.

You’re in sooooo much trouble. I thought I had more time before we needed to have the Don’t-Drink-Until-You’re-21 talk.

They grow up so fast….

I can handle a lot:

• The midnight pee breaks.
• You pressing on my lungs so I can barely breathe.
• You refusing to move when Boo touches my tummy, so Radley can endlessly taunt him with: “I’ve felt the baby move and you haven’t.”
• You making it impossible to find a comfortable sleep position.

What I cannot handle is you throwing in my face that while you apparently had an all-night kegger, I’ve been deprived of key lime pie martinis and blueberry margaritas for months. MONTHS!

If I can’t drink, you can’t drink, and I don’t appreciate you throwing your drunken hiccups in my face…er, tummy.

You’re grounded until further notice.

Love,

Your Mama

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “If you did not eat the entire candy bar within 24 hours of receiving it, then we can no longer be friends.”—PinotNinja

Help! My Baby is Twerking

Dear Baby Girl,

1:30 AM is not a good time to start twerking or doing the Harlem Shake in my tummy. Please go to sleep.

I have a feeling this won’t be the first time we have this conversation.

Love,

Your Mama

This is an old pic. The little stinker refuses to be in a good position for the ultrasounds. We’re 30 weeks.

Dear Boobs

Dear Boobs,

Throughout this pregnancy so far, we’ve had a love-hate relationship. At first, I hated how sore you were, but I loved that you grew.

Then you started overflowing over the tops of my bra, and I had to buy new bras.

Now I’ve had to replace my new bras with even newer bras of a bigger size.

Boobs, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but bras are ‘spensive. Please stop growing.

Also…Kiefer is staring…all the time.

Thank you,

Thoughtsy

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “No movie maker worth his salt waits until 30 minutes into a movie to have the obligatory witches-performing-C-section scene. That shit’s gotta happen during the opening credits or I’m going to go get some popcorn.”—1pointperspective