Monday, March 26, 2012

When I Was 21


2006. It was the year a song titled “It’s Hard out Here for a Pimp” won an Academy Award, Justin Timberlake gave pop culture his greatest contribution in “Dick in a Box,” and the most famous babies ever, Suri Cruise and Shiloh Jolie-Pitt, first graced us with their presence. It was a world where iPhones, the Kardashians, and Justin Bieber hadn’t become a thing yet – although to be fair, the Biebs probably just wasn’t born yet.

Photo courtesy of someecards.com
2006 was also the year I turned 21. I was in college, had an unexplainable fondness for polka dots, and developed my first girl-crush upon realizing that Tina Fey was responsible for both Mean Girls and 30 Rock. Back then, if you had told me that in six years I would be pregnant for the second time, I probably would’ve laughed until I peed my pants or punched you in the face.

But alas, it’s true. It wasn’t that long until I would very abruptly trade in Jager Bombs for diaper bombs. There was so much for me to learn, and yet at the time I had no way of fathoming what was to come, and just how fast it would happen. So in honour of my former bar-hopping, polka dot wearing self, I give you the top 15 things I had no idea were on the very near horizon.


When I was 21, I didn’t know that in six years I would:

15. Say the sentence, “Sorry guys, I can’t, it’s naptime,” and actually be referencing someone else’s nap and not my own.

14. Stay up most or all of the night for any reason other than finishing a last minute project or drinking my face off.

13. Give control of the music in my car over to someone who’s barely three feet tall and thinks that anyone named Eric must be the prince from The Little Mermaid.

12. Talk about myself in the third person for at least 95% of most days.

11. Think of the term “sleeping in” much how I think of Muppet Babies: I think I remember a time when it existed... Otherwise, the person who started this lie is a really big asshole.

10. Not only let someone pee, poop, and throw up on me, but still love them afterward.

9. Spend 45 minutes at each mealtime watching a toddler very slowly eat her food, not eat her food, or make games out of her food.

8. Think that watching Dora the Explorer was preferable to shows like Jersey Shore.

7. End up with songs like “A-Goong Went the Little Green Frog” and “The Flea Fly Song” constantly stuck in my head.  

6. Think that “staying up late” meant being awake at 9:00 p.m. to watch New Girl.

5. No longer view my boobs simply as accessories or successful manipulation tools, but as sustenance for some and weapons for others. What did you call me? Take it back or I’ll shoot you in the eye with milk!

4. Not have a starring role on General Hospital or at least two Academy Awards to my name.

3. Discover what “after birth” actually refers to, as oppose to thinking it just meant the period of time that followed pushing a human out of your nether regions.

2. Use my repertoire of 90’s TV show theme songs as lullabies.

1. Think that having sex twice a month was a pretty good record.


All this talk makes me wonder what the next six years will be like. Hopefully when 2018 rolls around, I’ll be able to say something like, “I didn’t know that my sex life would pick up so much once my kids were in school,” or “I didn’t know the “why” phase would be so short.”

What? A girl can dream.

-Alice

Monday, March 19, 2012

About a Two Year Old


The year in between when your child turns two and three years old is pretty interesting. Frankly, Forrest Gump was right. It’s like the most terrifying box of chocolates ever, and you never know which one you’re gonna get. Sometimes, your toddler will wake up smiling and giggling and telling you that she loves you so very much. And other times, that pint sized crackhead ain’t afraid to cut a bitch simply because her milk was served in the wrong colour cup or you didn’t do up the car seat buckles in the exact right order. It’s the worst mind game ever, and you don’t really ever win; you just might get lucky some days.

But I guess all of that is nothing new, it’s just that the crazy is amped up quite a bit from the previous two years. Lucky for us, toddlers start to exhibit some other original behaviours or traits during this time, all designed to keep parents on their toes. Some of the mannerisms are funny, some are quirky, and others are downright irritating. Here’s the round-up on what I’ve come across so far:

The ‘why’ phase begins. Initially, your reaction is a mixture of mild perplexity and shrugged shoulders. Then the whys increase and you become more flustered because how the hell do you explain why asparagus is green or why the hallway is where it is. Then before you know it, you’ve officially reached the point where you are literally banging your head against the wall because surprisingly, or maybe not, that’s a less irritating activity.

It becomes acceptable for your child to openly admit to talking to herself. I have lost track of how many times the following exchange takes place in my house each day:

“Mumble mumble mumble.”
“Pardon, Thumper? Can you say it louder for Mommy to hear?”
“Oh, no I was just talking to myself, Mom. Don’t worry.”

In a surprising, or not, turn of events, children start monitoring what their parents say. For example, you might think you’re having an adult conversation, but when you casually say something like, “Oh man, I hate it when Rachel Berry makes those Broadway faces!” your child is likely to appear out of nowhere to say, “Mommy, we do not say hate.” Then five minutes later when you absentmindedly say something similar, she will again pop out to remind you to find a more appropriate word.

They will also start policing their friends’ behaviour. As in: “YES! It’s raining, Bambi. I told you enough times!” after her BFF asks one too many times if it’s raining outside.

Actually, let’s just put it on record that this is when they start saying exactly every single thing that you say. You may overhear struggles conversations between your child and her stuffed bunny that go like this: “I’m just gonna do your hair okay? No, sit still. No – just, NO! Let! Me! Finish! There! Aww, you’re so beautiful!” Or perhaps when you’re trying to explain why we shouldn’t, oh you know, use the dresser drawers as stairs, she will look you dead in the eye and say with complete seriousness, “Okay, okay. Calm down, Mmmoooommmmmmm.” Um, I’m sorry, did I miss something? When the f#*% did you turn sixteen?!

While we’re on the subject of being sixteen, let’s just say that, yeah, that becomes a thing during this year as well. Whether it’s because they demand to call Daddy at work and proceed to lie on their bed with their legs kicking behind them while they giggle and gab away, or because they’ve decided that they only want to play with older boys kids- and we’re not talking a year or two older here, but boys kids that are close to double digits and have zero interest in babies - your toddler will turn into a teenager right before your eyes.  Yes, it is as frightening as it sounds. And somewhat karmic, I suppose.

That’s all I’ve discovered for now. I still have six months before Thumper turns three so I’m sure there will be a lot more behavioural developments before then. Oh, goody. And then hopefully this all tapers off...right? Right?!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I'm busy. I have to go find a more appropriate word to describe how I feel about Berry's musical facial expressions.

-Alice

Monday, March 12, 2012

A Hard Day's Night


My daughter is exactly two and a half years old today. It took 912 days, but it finally happened. I finally did the one thing I said I’d never do as a parent. Granted, there were a lot of things I said I’d never do, but this was the one that after having actually become a parent, I thought I had a real shot of standing my ground on.

Thumper slept in my bed last night.

It’s not my fault. Really. Well, if by ‘my fault’ you mean that I’m the one who said “Why don’t you come sleep in mommy and daddy’s bed?” then yes it’s my fault but I surely can’t be blamed for how fitful my sickly daughter’s sleep was or the fact that she just wanted some cuddles.

It’s not that I care if other people co-sleep with their kids. It’s just that I could never do that on a consistent basis for the following reasons: I love my own sleep too much, I don’t sleep well with Thumper in the same bed, and I am the kind of woman who simply may hurt everyone in sight cannot function if I don’t sleep right. And I was always afraid that if I broke down once or twice, it would be too hard to make Thumper understand that sleeping in our bed was the exception, not the rule.

Even as a tiny baby, we never really let Thumper sleep with us. Sometimes I’d bring her in our bed for a little while in the early mornings, but mostly just because I was trying to squeeze in another hour or two of sleep. Which was kind of stupid because between worrying that I was going to crush her, wanting my own space, and waking up every time she breathed, I tended to not get much sleep out of it.

So why did I invite my daughter to sleep with me last night? I’m not sure. I couldn’t quite believe it when the words came out. I just know that after having checked on her a few times and seeing the discomfort on her face even while she was still asleep, I thought she could benefit from some cuddles.

Luckily, the cuddles she craved were from her daddy so I sort of managed to get some sleep. Unlucky for him, Dawson spent most of the night sleeping on the edge of our king-sized bed. Unlucky for me, Thumper woke up at 6 a.m. when Dawson got up to shower and wouldn’t go back to sleep.

Have I created a monster? Probably. Am I going to suffer the consequences of my actions when trying to put her to bed tonight? Maybe. Will I break down again? I have no clue. Hopefully I’ll remember the early morning wakeup call and leave Thumper in her own bed.

-Alice

Monday, March 5, 2012

Dear Celebrity: Snooki Edition


Dear Snooki:

This letter is based on the assumption that the recent rumours that you’re pregnant are true.

Look, you are currently the butt of everyone’s jokes, but I have made a conscious choice not to do that to you. Not because you’ll ever know if I do or don’t, but because I remember a time not too long ago when I was in your shoes. I was once the girl who partied like it was her job, although I guess for you it actually is a job. I had my share of dancing on tables and drunkenly running off my mouth for no other reason than because I could and I had nothing to lose. The only difference between us is that your life is filmed on camera and mine wasn’t. Although, it’s true that if someone had offered me a reality show, I would have taken it. I legitimately contemplated signing up for Real World after a particularly crummy break up. I was also once the girl who, at twenty-three, was unmarried but very suddenly and so very unexpectedly needed four pregnancy tests to make me believe that I was pregnant. It was scary as fuck. From that moment on, it felt like everyone I knew was watching my every move. I became the girl that everyone expected to fail because party girls make good gossip but they don’t make good mothers, right? Well, Snooki, the reality is that now you do have something to lose in this world. And that’s a game changer.  Most people aren’t going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but even party girls can change their ways, if they want to. So as a former hot, hot mess, let me tell you two things that nobody else will.

It’s okay to mourn the loss of the life you had. You have the right to cry, to get mad at yourself, at life, at everyone. It’s perfectly normal to be upset about the major changes that are coming your way, because there are some huge-ass changes coming your way.  You just have to remember that at the end of the day, it’s not about you anymore. It’s about the life that’s growing inside you. From now on, your decisions have to be made based on what’s best for that child. So here’s my next piece of wisdom.

Get the hell out of dodge. If you stay in the spotlight to raise this kid, you might as well start telling yourself you’re a bad mother because that’s all you’re going to hear from those around you. Hollywood is a world where people not only expect to see you fail, but they want to see you fail, and they will hang you dry for even the smallest parenting mistakes. And you know what? You’re going to make a shit-ton of mistakes because, like the rest of us, you will have no clue what you’re doing. And that’s okay, but Hollywood will make you feel like it’s not. That’s the other difference between us. Yeah, I had everyone I knew watching me, but you’ve got everyone in the whole world watching you. My mistakes don’t get plastered all over Facebook or become a Twitter trend heard ‘round the world. Yours do, and yours will. So go back to Jersey and surround yourself with family. They might give you some grief but they won’t be waiting and hoping for you to fail miserably.

I hope it goes without saying that I don’t think you should plan a reality show around your pregnancy. MTV already did that with a bunch of teenagers, and look at how well that turned out for those poor girls. Take a page out of Jaime Lynn Spears’ book - when life hands you an unexpected pregnancy, just turn the cameras off and go home. 

-Alice