tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12412807301371728952024-03-19T15:40:47.490-04:00A Guide to Surviving Surprise ParenthoodMy adventures as the parent of a 'surprise' baby girl, and a very planned little boyLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-19028384352193585532017-08-02T21:29:00.001-04:002017-08-02T21:29:57.986-04:00That time I was that mom at a fancy birthday party...I've been waiting a while to tell this tale, mostly because it involves one of my absolute favorite people in the whole world, however totally disses her friends. I had to wait an appropriate amount of time so that if they ever turn their heads from their parenting encyclopedias, they won't know this is about them. You feel me?
Anyway, I have this friend. We're going to call her Ashtray for the Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-54308656449649649172017-07-20T09:11:00.002-04:002017-07-20T12:09:23.535-04:00It Doesn't MatterRemember that time I used to write, but then I had a second child, and he became mobile, and never slept, and was so time consuming that I didn't have time to wash my own armpits, let alone write a word?
Me too.
Luckily, things are finally starting to settle down, and he and his older sister are quietly fighting in the family room now so it gives me a chance to take a stroll down another memoryLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-58927665488935872782017-07-17T17:22:00.001-04:002017-07-17T17:22:32.221-04:00Don't Blink...Six years ago from just about this very moment, my water broke. I was 25 years old, clueless, and riding waves of contractions like a complete amateur. There was walking, there were tears, there was a little bit of vomit, and so, so much fear. I had no idea what I was in for. At all.
And then, at 3:07am on July 18th, her due date, my punctual little girl came into the world. She was so quietLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-36424580643467270182017-07-13T20:14:00.001-04:002017-07-13T20:18:19.948-04:00I Got 99 Problems... But a Critch Ain't One. This is my first summer as a mother of a school aged child. I so longed for the summer so that I could have my baby back home with me. I daydreamed of us holding hands and twirling in a field of flowers. Then the end of June came and now I cry myself to sleep every night because I'm so sick of hearing my own name (which is Mom, for the record) that I could stab my own eyeballs out with a dollar Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-9743238752544152962017-06-19T21:43:00.001-04:002017-06-19T22:14:21.408-04:00Back To Our RootsI grew up extremely close with my grandfather. He was a salt-of-the-earth type of man from a tiny little Newfoundland town called Champney's West. The house he was born in still stands, directly across a poorly cared for road overlooking the Atlantic.
Four years ago our family moved from the city to a town a short 45 minute drive from where my grandparents grew up. Every summer I take my Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-65460355012056982942017-01-24T09:31:00.001-05:002017-01-24T09:31:31.982-05:00Hey Donald, let go of our pussiesFirst of all, let it be known that I can not stand the word "pussy". Especially when using it in reference to the vagina. But hey, if nobody found it offensive enough to not vote Donald Trump in, I'm going to throw it around like goddamn confetti.
I'm really busy these days raising an empowered feminist daughter and a supportive and intelligent son, so I'm going to have to make this entry short;Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-79413519337052640452016-03-11T21:37:00.000-05:002016-03-11T22:04:03.002-05:00The Last ChildRemember that time I used to write stories about my kid all the time, but then Liam came along and I didn't even have time to brush my teeth most days, let alone talk about it?
Same.
Anyway, here I am, mother of two. In possession of a complete family. Even the dog. And I've figured a few things out in my absence, let me tell you. The most enormous lesson of all being that you do not appreciateLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-54178246598785423912015-01-22T13:44:00.000-05:002015-01-22T13:55:49.765-05:00An Open Letter to The Hater of All Things Pink and MagicalYou don't know me, which is perfectly fine as I pride myself on the fact that I don't associate with such hateful people as yourself. I'm sure you've guessed by now that I've read your terrible excuse for satire, and like many other readers, I have something to say about it.
My mother has always said that she and our dad are the only ones allowed to say anything bad about their children. They Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-78588963148208382332014-06-06T11:57:00.001-04:002014-06-06T12:00:28.723-04:00Put Your Gavel AwayI have come to an epiphany as a mother.
An epiphany that has caused me to leave every advice giving Facebook group. One that has caused me to give up on the parenting books. One that has allowed me to unsubscribe from the parenting e-mails.
The epiphany is this: I know what I'm doing.
I have learned a lot from other mothers since having children. I've learned that an all natural birth is the Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-64582576424052647582014-05-11T21:11:00.001-04:002014-05-11T21:11:08.331-04:00McDisappointment MealLet me start by saying this is not going to be just another lengthy post complaining about the food at McDonald's. I'll be the first to admit that I love the golden deliciousness that comes in a six pack of McNuggets, and every so often, I have zero desire to cook anything at all and will find myself in the drive-thru lane. So sue me. However, I was not impressed with what I found in my almost Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-42973045976972433382014-05-09T12:21:00.000-04:002014-05-09T12:39:41.597-04:00Happy Mother's DaySince I have had my second bambino and am back in survival mode, and since I have met so many more amazing mommies, I decided that a re-do of my first Mother's Day post was in order. I also feel like we need to be wishing each other a happy Mother's Day and not waiting for our kids or partners to do it. We are the only ones who get it for real. We should be the ones to support each other. So hereLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-7915251981948298652014-04-06T18:26:00.003-04:002014-04-06T18:34:25.149-04:00Sex is like pizza... which is like parenting...A close friend called me the other day and said to me, and I quote, "Having two kids, isn't that bad, right?"
It was then that I knew she was knocked up again. And as I lay there on the couch, totally emotionally and physically exhausted from being tag teamed by my two kids all night, one who was teething and the other who was having nightmares, I didn't know how to respond.
Along with this, Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-49432723160002213942014-03-21T13:51:00.002-04:002014-03-21T14:02:39.373-04:00Maybe we made a new point...I'm sure nobody is a stranger to the "No Makeup Selfie" pictures that are clogging up your news feeds on Facebook. This was then followed by several people sharing an article telling us all that we've missed the point. That these pictures are supposed to be raising awareness for cancer and that nobody is doing that now. They're just posting pictures of their freshly washed faces, and this isn't Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-18318736847940759882014-03-12T13:27:00.000-04:002014-03-12T17:22:15.762-04:00Angrier than a left boob with mastitis...So as I'm sure most of you have heard about or read about, recently a woman was asked to leave an adults only change room at the YMCA because she had her baby in there with her, who she was breastfeeding. There is some argument as to whether she was asked to leave because she was breastfeeding, or if she was asked to leave because she was in a designated adults only section with a baby. Whatever.Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-76170687462666176682014-02-13T19:46:00.001-05:002014-02-13T19:46:17.180-05:00I'm not a good mom...I'm not. I don't have a lot of patience, especially when I'm tired. Which I always am these days. I don't make great decisions when I'm out of patience, and then I hate myself for those decisions later.
I've read the books. I've read the articles. I've asked the questions and made mental notes of methods. I've tried to tell myself that every move I make as a mother now is going to determine who Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-86307784433106693662014-01-01T09:34:00.001-05:002014-01-01T09:38:10.481-05:00ShitpocalypseGood morning, mommies. I trust you are all doing well after last evening's festivities. I'm sure the mutant fish that loiter at The Bubble are having a lovely meal of used condoms (or Plan B packages), champagne vomit, and boozy, dumped breast milk this morning (even though Dr. Jack Newman says there's no need to do that anymore!).
I myself am feeling pretty good. But in general I'm Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-27209968983642079562013-12-28T16:49:00.000-05:002013-12-28T16:50:39.359-05:00Postpartum, Overweight, Sleep Deprived Bitch in the KitchOn December 23rd, Brad ran out to get a few essentials from the grocery store to get us through the next few days when everything would either be maggoty with last minute shoppers or closed all together. He got mix, obviously, some booze, Christmas cookies, chips, and chocolates. He also got a loaf of bread, some eggs, and milk for me to add to my Bailey's. Perfect. We were set. We sat peacefullyLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-39146225822945893392013-12-24T11:31:00.003-05:002013-12-24T11:35:14.747-05:00The Final Day of the Elf on the Shelf: Zippy Attends the Birth of Jesus
God love Mary. She had no other choice but to go au natural, and she was clearly more au natural than even the crunchiest granola mama I know. The poor woman had to give birth in a barn, surrounded by barn animals. I didn't even want to be surrounded by my own husband when I was in labor. Come to think of it though, I was making some barn animal noises so maybe she felt more at home giving Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-21227623765013889392013-12-22T09:10:00.000-05:002013-12-22T09:10:50.088-05:00Some Irregular Days of the Elf on the Shelf: Day Whatever - Move Over, Zippy
Listen, it's like this. A few short weeks after we brought a newborn into our home, our toddler suddenly decided to cut her 12-14 hours of sleep down to about 3. We're talking getting up at 2am. For the day. So basically, my eyes are shriveling in my head, my brain is turning to liquid, and my blood-coffee level is about 99.9%.
Zippy can suck it.
Bottom line is that if you Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-16495934599151089352013-12-07T19:45:00.003-05:002013-12-07T19:45:40.655-05:0025 Days of the Elf on the Shelf - Day 7: Zippy Trashes the Kitchen
Unbelievable! That hooker of a elf trashed my kitchen! You wouldn't know but a couple of parents of a semi-possessed toddler and a newborn and a giant dog had cooked supper and then put the kids to bed without cleaning. Disgusting!
Consider yourself lucky if all this little creep does is spell a few names with some cereal. Now we have to clean up this disaster! Even the toaster is out! Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-46429882343128262862013-12-06T20:19:00.001-05:002013-12-06T20:19:09.156-05:0025 Days of the Elf on the Shelf - Day 6: Give me a BreakSo day four was all ready to go, but then Avery decided to vomit all over me in my nice outfit as I was getting ready to go to my work Christmas dinner and things got a little hectic. She also vomited all over herself, a large blanket, a tutu, and portions of our couch. And there was a puke trail from the family room to the upstairs master bath. It was really glorious.
Bottom line is ZippyLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-81258224086977783862013-12-04T11:57:00.000-05:002013-12-04T12:35:50.202-05:00You have got to be shitting me...So I've been seeing on facebook (a little more than I'd like to) that some parents are deciding to forego the whole Santa thing and tell their kids there's no such thing, wham bam, Santa is a lie. It's actually referred to as "The Santa Lie" in some cases. In fact, some total D bag wrote a whole article about it which I'm not even going to post a link to because he boils my blood so badly that I Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-88880793942919985332013-12-03T20:36:00.000-05:002013-12-03T20:36:28.679-05:0025 Days of the Elf on the Shelf - Day Three: Zippy's Like a Wrecking Ball
Zippy decided to get a little Miley on us this morning. I'm assuming there wasn't a latex nude bikini in her size, and also that she had some trouble getting her red suit off because she wasn't super authentic, but she got the point across. Well played, Zipper.
Dear Santa, please let my daughter never act or dress like Miley, and let my son never want to be with the likes of her, because Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-79594607511289786892013-12-02T17:07:00.000-05:002013-12-02T17:08:01.775-05:0025 Days of the Elf on the Shelf - Day Two: The Magic of Christmas
Like Christmas, the Elf on the Shelf is supposed to be magical and exciting for children. Imagine how surprised I was this morning when I woke up to see that Zippy's magic appealed to mommies of young children everywhere. She was taking a dump alone, God love er'. Now that, friends, is a Christmas miracle if I ever saw one.
Years ago, I could be absolutely plowed downtown, be dyingLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1241280730137172895.post-5198083355737652032013-12-01T21:26:00.001-05:002013-12-01T21:32:21.910-05:0025 Days of the Elf on the Shelf - Day One: Shit!I'm sure every mother out there knows all about the Elf on the Shelf. The creepy little elf that comes with a book, and he or she shows up December first and then flies back to the North Pole every night to report to the Big Guy about if your kids are being total assholes or not. Or something like that. This is what I've heard, but I don't know for certain because I haven't even read the effing Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00017696670174734142noreply@blogger.com0