I am still awake.

I Rocked It Like A Mama

Today was one of those days where I felt that all was possible. I don't usually like to pat myself on the back. In fact, I usually find ways to unpat myself when others compliment me but that's a sob story for my therapist.

I should get myself one of those.

Normally, I'm cursing both the laws of Murphy and toddlers. I think those two have a pact or something.

It's a one-step-forward-two-steps-back-uphill-battle-barefoot-in-the-dog-shit-infested-snow kind of feeling, almost every single day. 

But today...oh today...I kind of feel like I kicked ass.  Check out this list of accomplishments.

LA Momming Is Obviously Not For Slobs Like Me

I went to a baby shower yesterday. I knew I was going to have to bring Fuzz. TSA was building a deck on the back of our house and would not give up any precious daylight weekend hours of working on it in order to chase Fuzz away from his saws, drills, and other items my almost 17-month-old might mistake for toys. 

Shnook was excited to help Daddy, although he did have a brief interlude where he cried his eyes out because he wanted to go to a 'party.'

Not this party, Shnook, trust me.

The morning of the shower, following a shitty night of interrupted sleep thanks to my screaming toddler,  I scavenged my closet for something decent to wear. After a long depressing search, I selected a pair of flats, some shiny pants, a knit shirt and cute sweater/cape I got on sale at Barney's over two years ago.

My hair wasn't quite cooperating, but I shrugged it off, and put on some make-up.  When I left, I thought I looked alright. Not awesome or anything, but ya know, cute enough for a baby shower.

I was meeting a couple of other close mom friends there. Both were bringing their babies. I wound my way up the Pacific Coast Highway to the Palisades, where this event was being held. It was a gorgeous day, as January days in Los Angeles tend to be. It was probably around seventy-two degrees, with not a cloud in the sky.

When I pulled into the cul-de-sac, one mom was waiting for me while her 12 month-old baby napped in the car. She seemed to be dressed in a similar outfit. I'll add that she recently found out she was expecting again...quite unexpectedly, so she's got that fashion variable as well.

Mom #3 arrived also wearing pants and a cardigan for easily accessible boobage, and an ERGO, of course, equipped with a not-quite-three-month-old. The first thing she said was that her baby had been up every hour last night, so I bet her outfit was probably not her biggest concern. The fact that she even made it to the party was commendable. 

We entered as a team and...well

My Passover Nap Miracle

I'm certainly no domestic diva, but when I get the chance, I do like to cook. This year, I made a whole Passover meal all by myself. Yes, I am bragging, in case you are asking. 

And how, you might ask was I able to accomplish this when I'm taking care of an infant? Luckily the toddler was at the babysitter, but here's how...

The Hellacious Phenomenon that is 5 pm to Bedtime

Why, oh why does this suck so badly? 5pm until bedtime is when I have both kids without TSA. While most of the Stay-At-Home moms around the country get relief around this time of day, my day gets considerably more hectic from the time I pick up the Shnook (with the Fuzzball in the car).

I fully understand that I'm lucky to be with the baby for a good chunk of the day, Two years ago, I was complaining about just the infant, but believe it or not, being alone with Fuzz, although still exhausting, is kind of a vacation compared to the mental gymnastics my toddler puts me through. All is usually good and fine when I pick him up. We have very pleasant conversation on the way home, pointing out landmarks such as fountains, gyms, car washes, etc.

However, the moment we pull in the driveway the trouble starts.