Meyer 2, Mister Bear 0

I am a mother. I get pooped on. A lot. I don't even flinch when it happens anymore. I just clean it up and move on. But poor Mister Bear...he didn't even see it coming! Either time....I guess it is my fault considering I keep Mister Bear on the changing table in clear view of Meyer's bare butt, so I apologize Mister Bear! The first time Mister Bear got pooped on was when Meyer was a tiny newborn and my mom and I were changing her right after I told her pediatrician that she hadn't had a poop yet since I brought her home. Well, I should have held my tongue because as soon as we got home and I took off the diaper, it was a poop storm! All over me, all over my mom, all over the floor and all over Mister Bear....into the wash he went...The second time though, Mister Bear had to uncomfortably sit covered in poop all day as my hubby failed to notice Meyer had even pooped on him. I was in bed that morning while Anthony was changing her when I heard a little baby shart followed by, 'Oh SHIT!' (No pun intended). I rolled over to see Anthony only slightly covered in poop and Meyer with a big smile on her face. He quickly cleaned her up and went off to work. It was only after I returned home from work that day and took Meyer upstairs to be changed when I noticed Mister Bear's pink hoodie now had brown polka dots all over it. Did he really not see those poop splatters this morning or did he choose not to see them? I'll never know....Nonetheless, I gave him a good soak and dry but he was not happy about it! Poor Mister Bear had to drown his sorrows in the sink and yet he returned right back on the changing table that night ...I'll never learn and Mister Bear will never catch a break!

Another Dumb Blonde Moment

What can I say, we all have our dumb blonde moments, right? My latest one came while I was driving in my car. I always plug my phone into the USB adapter in the glove box so I can listen to my music. On the screen on my dashboard it says 'AMI' and then the title of the song that is playing. I just always assumed my phone knew where I worked (AMI Asset Management) until I was looking through my Audi User's Manual for an unrelated item and I saw it...'Audi Music Interface.' That's what AMI stands for! Duh!

The Multi Functioning Breast Friend

Now that I am a mother, I spend 99% of my time breastfeeding my little one. And thanks to my Breast Friend (a super handy breast feeding pillow) it is as easy as pie! But I have found that once I am done breast feeding, I can continue using the Breast Friend for many different things:

I can be a stand in for the dancing ballerina hippo in Disney's Fantasia

I can be a lifeguard at the local community pool

I can sell popcorn, peanuts or Dodger Dogs at Dodger Stadium on opening day

I can be a cocktail waitress at one of the many Vegas casinos

If I encounter another mom with a Breast Friend, we can have an impromptu Sumo Wrestling match

I can work on my solitaire skills anytime during the day, with no table required

Who knew that it was such a multi functioning product?

That's Just Me...Naked In The Field!

Ever since I saw the Vanity Fair with the gorgeous and pregnant Demi Moore on the cover, I knew I wanted to recreate that shot when it was time for me to have a baby. Plus, I used to be able to stick out my stomach as big as Demi's, do the pose with a straight face and make my sister, Grace practically pee herself...it was destiny that I was going to have a naked photo shoot when I was pregnant. Way before Kourtney Kardashian thought of it! Last weekend, I was lucky enough to do two photo shoots with my friends- Kari on Saturday and Ashleigh on Sunday. Although Kari and I were in the privacy of my own apartment, Ashleigh took me out into the wide-open spaces of Temecula.

The setting was perfect, quiet and way off the beaten path of any unwanted spectators. Besides Ashleigh, her friend Heather (who was playing assistant for the day) and Anthony, we were all alone. So after we took the shots in my dress, I stripped down to nothing and took the more risqué shots...I was as comfortable as ever and with the girl's encouragement (they certainly boosted my self-esteem) I felt like I was shooting the cover of Vanity Fair myself. Although we did hear a few dirt bikes zoom by below us and there was one truck that came up the road in the distance (I hid behind Anthony for that one) the pictures came out fabulous! I can't wait to embarrass Meyer one day when the photos are blown up and framed on my bathroom wall...

Beware Of The Pregnant Lady In Row 12!

Last week I flew home to Maine alone since my husband was at the Raiders game in Oakland (he was going to meet me in Maine after the game). I usually don’t have an issue flying solo but I am 7 months pregnant and had to be on the red eye flight to JFK for almost 5 hours, which I knew would be uncomfortable. I took my window seat, got out my blanket and headphones, took off my shoes and got ready to watch TV and pass out. (Side note- unless I am extremely tired or next to my husband, I need the TV to help put me to sleep). So, to my surprise, the TV on my seat was not working. Of course, everyone else’s on the plane were fine, but mine? Stuck on a channel where they were interviewing Al Gore over and over again….not something I could fall asleep to! So I called the flight attendant over to see if there was anything she could do to help me out. She said that once the flight was in the air and the TV’s were all reset again, maybe mine would also reset and start working. So basically, she couldn’t promise me anything but fingers crossed…great! After being air born for almost 20 minutes, my TV still didn’t work and I started to get really frustrated. Everyone around me was watching TV and having a good ole’ time but I was stuck staring at Al Gore talking about the environment. I called the flight attendant back over and told her that my TV was still not working and she said that she would help me after she finished the drink service. I tried to remain calm and patient but after almost an hour of her not returning, my blood was boiling. I don’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but I began to cry and rang my call button furiously. When a different flight attendant returned, I asked him if he had found a solution to my problem (through my tears). He said that unfortunately he was not trained to fix the TVs and that in order to do so , they would have to be on the ground and take apart the seat, blah blah blah. I told him that he better find me another window or aisle seat ASAP because I was not happy! (I have no idea where this ‘Erin’ came from because I usually hate confrontation and am extremely patient). Again, I think it was the pregnancy hormones. I told him that I was 7 months pregnant and uncomfortable already and he needed to find me a working TV! The poor guy next to me offered up his seat after seeing how upset I was but I declined and told him I would be just as uncomfortable in a middle seat but thanks for the offer.

I heard the flight attendant mumble ‘upset pregnant lady in row 12’ as he rushed to the back to consult with the other flight attendants and HOPEFULLY solve my problem. About 15 minutes later, he returned and told me I had two options. He said that I could take the empty middle seat in front of me with a working TV and take a Jet Blue voucher or move to the back where there were a few service dogs (as long as I wasn’t allergic) but I could have either an aisle or a window seat. I immediately declined the middle seat for obvious reasons and told him that I would sit with the pooches. As I began to wipe my tears away and gather all of my stuff, a vision went through my head of what the remainder of my flight might look like. I pictured a Mastiff and a German Shepherd sitting in the two seats out back, all buckled up with their headphones on watching TV. As I approached them, they would roll their eyes and growl as they were forced to move over and let the upset pregnant lady in just so she could have a working TV. In reality, it was a nice couple with two little white dogs, one in a carrier and one on their lap who nicely let me sit in the aisle seat. I thanked the flight attendant and my new neighbors, switched on my TV to The First 48 and passed out for the duration of the flight.

You Say Meyer, I Say My-uh

Coming from the Northeast, I have heard 'wicked pissah,' 'pahk the cah' and 'lobstah roll' my whole life, especially coming from my parents, who have thick Maine accents. But I didn't think my future daughter's name would be caught up in this wicked mess. When I told my mom that I was naming our daughter Meyer, I had to confirm that she heard and would pronounce it correctly- 'Meyer' and not 'Maya.' So I told her it was like Oscar Mayer, Meyer Lemon or Fort Myers. As far as I knew, she had it down perfectly. But when she would pronounce it 'Maya' on the phone, I told her again, "yes, Meyer, like the lemons and chalked up her lack of an 'r' to the Maine accent. Apparently, I was wrong. When my mom sent out the invitations to my East Coast baby shower, she wrote "It's a girl! Baby Meyer (pronounced My'uh)..." Ummm, what the what? I cleared it up finally (hopefully) but I still think Meyer is going to be confused when she goes to visit her Grandparents in Maine. I can hear it now-"Mommy, why do Nana and Peep call me Maya and Paco-lina?" Don't even get me started!

Orange You Glad That Color Wasn't Permanent?

Last week, I decided to change up my hair and go chocolate brown so I asked my friend Nicole (the only person I trust with my hair) for some advice. Since Nicole moved to Sacramento, it's not as easy just to walk over to her place to get my hair done, so she had to buy the products for me and ship them to my place. Once I got everything I needed, I called her to go over the step by step process of dying my hair. She walked me through it as I wrote every detail down in my notebook and she assured me that it wasn't that difficult and she had faith that I could do it. I have dyed my hair before so I had all the confidence in the world that it would turn out okay. Since I still had blonde in my hair, the first step was to brush the copper color over all the blonde sections, wait 20 minutes and then wash it out. It did that and patiently waited the 20 minutes until I could lean over the tub and rinse it out. When I took off the towel on my head, I noticed that my hair was bright orange. I wasn't that nervous considering that it was still saturated with the copper and I figured that it would all wash out. As I bent over the running water in the tub and the bright orange started to wash out, I noticed that my hair was still creepy clown orange. I immediately started to freak out and thought about what I was going to do for work in the morning- wear a headscarf?

There was no way I was going to show my face in public like this! I looked Merida from Disney's Brave. I looked at my notes and read that Nicole told me after I did the copper dye, to dry it and then apply the chocolate brown dye. I held my breath as I followed the steps, had faith that everything would be fine and the dark brown would cover up my nectarine head and I wouldn't have to apply for a position at The Ringling Brothers Circus. After another 25 minutes of patiently waiting with my now dark saturated hair in a clip, I was relived when it turned out perfect. After my heart stopped beating a mile a minute, I texted Nicole and asked her if that was normal. She said, "yeah, it is and I probably should have told you that your hair was going be bright orange beforehand!" Phew!