Fair Warning… “Mommy ” Post


Captain Hind Sight!

Damn, the kid is so expensive.

I really just discovered this– about two weeks ago. Up until then, I’ve only had to buy diapers twice. We got a ton of diapers in a lot of different sizes at my baby shower, in November. Whenever I actually had to buy diapers it was right before she moved to the next size up. Well, about three weeks ago, we used the very last of the size 3s. She isn’t going to be in 4s for a while.

She is such a princess, you know. Her little butt absolutely will not tolerate store named, generic brand diapers. Oh no. Only Pampers please! Little did I know, 120 Pampers runs you about $25 and will only last you less than two weeks.

Eloise was breastfeed the first six months of her life. I had the six month goal- and I stuck to it, but not a day over. Everyone tells you how much better breastfeeding is for your baby, and I can’t disagree. She has not ever really been sick and the kid is a heifer! What no one really prepares you for is how freaking emotionally and physically exhausting it is. I was constantly worried about what I ate, how much water I was drinking,  and if I was producing enough. Constantly. Like every moment of every day. I really didn’t sleep more than 4 hours at a time for 5 months because of what seemed like continual feedings. It was a hassle when I went back to work to pump 3-4 times during a 12 hour shift (exceptionally at night when there is no one to cover you). Not to mention the physical pain and general constant uncomfortableness that never really went away.

For all that though, it was so cheap! I didn’t realize how much money I was saving! When I started weening her about four weeks ago we used the formula I had been gifted during my pregnancy. It was all name brand stuff. She has acid reflux and already didn’t handle breast milk so well, but the Similac seemed to help a little. When it was time for me to go out and buy formula last week I about fell over. $25 for less than a week’s worth of Similac. Jesus God, watch over me. I decided Elle would be able to live off the Wal-Mart brand, Parent’s Choice, which was the double the amount for 5 dollars less.

http://www.canadianfamily.ca/kids/pregnancy/can-you-spoil-a-baby/Well, the Princess Eloise can not drink that crap. Duh. How could I have been so stupid!? She puked that stuff out as she was drinking it. I had to go back to the store and buy a second brand new container, this time of the Eloise-Approved-Similac.

I am using the Parent’s Choice in her cereal and to thin out her homemade baby food.

Side note: Homemade baby food- BEST idea I ever had! $20 and 2 hours on a Sunday, and BAM- baby food for a month! I steam everything and puree it in my Baby Bullet and freeze it in ice-cube trays. I defrost them in the fridge over night and mix flavors while I am thinning them out for her. She freaking loves big girl food.


I expected parenting to be very hard and kind of expensive.

My observation, as of so far, is that it’s not hard, just very time-consuming. Even when I’m not doing one on one child care time with her (which there is a ton of!), I am constantly being her mom. I worry about her, think about her, look at her pictures, talk about her, or laugh about something she did just about every minute. And I love it.

What I don’t love is how crazy expensive she is! I was very blessed and fortunate to have generous family and friends who provided me with almost six months worth of diapers, clothes, formula, medicine and every other necessity I would need. We don’t pay for child care. Robert works days and I work nights and our mothers and my sisters help out so I can sleep some during the days. Up until a couple of weeks ago the only money I spent on her was on outfits and toys she didn’t really need but I wanted her to have.

Buying my own kid’s food and diapers is not going to break the bank. We’re going to be just fine. I was just surprised, and then surprised by my surprise. I feel like I discovered a whole new level of parenting. (I honestly don’t know how single or impoverished parents do it! My awe and respect goes out to them).

My thanks go out to all the people in my life who made it possible for me live under the rock as long as I did. I was grateful before, but now I am amazed.


Stalkers, Kidnappers & Molesters Oh My! Why I don’t post pictures of my kid online.


My mother and father did an excellent job of ingraining the concept of Stranger Danger into me as a child. One might say they did to good of a job.

My father has four daughters and I know for a fact that his biggest fear is one of us being abducted. I know this because since I was 9 years old there has always been mug shots of local sexual offenders on his refrigerator. Our instructions if we happen upon on of these individuals? Scream “RAPE!” and “FIRE!” and start to run- even if this guy doesn’t talk to you. Fortunately, this scenario has never played out.  My dad has a mantra we had to recite whenever we left the house. “Bad people do bad things to little kids.”

My mom was much less intense about Stranger Danger, but still very affective. She bought a VHS copy of  How to Raise a Street Smart Child and had us watch it repetitivly. I feel like all parents and children should watch this video, together. It has a commentary by John Walsh, who is best known as the father of Adam Walsh, who was kidnapped and murdered the summer of 1981.  There are many scary situations laid out in this documentary, the most scary being child abduction.

The documentary lays out different ways children and adults can thwart would-be kidnappers. One of the tips that has stayed with me into adulthood was to not ever have your child’s name printed anywhere on their clothing or backpack. Kidnappers can easily trick children into thinking they know them, or their parents, just by knowing their name.

If someone can lure my child away just because they know her name then I want as few people as possible to know it. This is why I do not post pictures of Eloise online. I have over 400 “friends” on Facebook. I have met and personally know just about all of these people, but do I really know all of them? No. Of course not. Even if I thought I knew someone well, you never really know, ya know?

When I was a couple of months pregnant I downloaded a sex offender locator app on my IPhone. Guess what? Three of my Facebook friends are on the list. One of them grew up around the corner from me. I’ve known him my whole entire life. He was convicted of owning child pornography. I would have never ever guessed. Ever.

A screen shot of the locations of the sex offenders in my hometown.

A screen shot of the locations of the sex offenders in my hometown.

Do I want this man, and unnamed and not yet found others, to be able to recognize my child at a glance? What about complete strangers? Facebook security settings can be tricky and change often. It is just is not something I am willing to risk.

According to The Federal Bureau of Investigation 49% of children are kidnapped by family members, 24% by strangers, and 27% by acquaintances. Kids taken by acquaintances are mainly female or teenagers and are the most likely to be sexually and/or physically abused. I encourage you to read this article, and visit these sites to learn more.

If, God forbid, something were to ever happen to my daughter I will have a SHORT list of people who know who she is and what she looks like.

Not posting pictures of her on Facebook really is a pain in my ass. I love to look at pictures of friend’s and relatives and acquaintances’ kids on Facebook. Without Facebook, I would hardly know what my adorable, far-away nephews are doing or see how much they’ve grown. I honestly am not judging other parents about putting pictures of their own children up. On the contrary, I am kind of embarrassed I come off like an aloof over bearing parent. I hate having to ask everyone who takes a picture of Elle to please not post it anywhere online.

Instead of posting openly online, I collected the email addresses of people I know and trust, who want to watch Eloise grown up, and email them updated pictures once a week.

I am keenly aware that I am an overly paranoid parent. The first month after Eloise was born I barely slept because I was convinced if I stopped watching her while she slept she would die of SIDS. I have completely banned outdoors without  the use of an insect net after she was stung on the face by a bee (To be fair, though, Robert’s family has a history of severe anaphylactic shock from bee stings). I spend a good part of my life worrying about my child- and she can’t even crawl yet! I wish I could have less anxiety about her, but I can’t.

The truth of the matter is that no one can guarantee their child’s safety 100% of the time. As they get older there is less and less that a parent can control. Soon she’ll be walking, crossing the street, going to school and meeting new people. All of this will be beyond my control. But as of right now, I have complete say over where she goes, what she does, and, most importantly, who knows her. I rue the day she is old enough to want her own social media page. I have no idea how I will handle it, but I have some time to figure it out.

My First Mother’s Day


On Friday night, after my sister Maggie’s prom Grand March, my mom and her fiance, Chris, took Robert, my daughter Eloise and I out for dinner. It was the first time we had taken the baby out amongst the general public for an extended period of time.

I was nervous to go out to a restaurant with her. She usually is a really happy, adorable baby… but she defiantly has her moments. These moments that I speak of are the very reason we have gone so long without really taking her anywhere public. I was picturing my screaming kid throwing a fit in front of a ton of judging strangers and ruining dinner for everyone in the restaurant. They would all look at me, unable to calm my child down, and know that I was a new mom, had no idea what I was doing, and that my baby was brat.

She did so well during the Grand March, I figured we could press our luck and go out to eat. She slept for a the first part of dinner. When she woke up she was in great mood. She was flirting with the old guy sitting behind us and laughing and eating her fist and just generally being her adorable self. Everyone kept coming up to me to tell me how cute she was, how chunky she is and how vocal she was. I can listen to people complement me all day long- but hearing awesome complements about my kid is way way better!

We got all the way through drinks, dinner and dessert with no problems what so ever. I was beginning to think I had been depriving myself of grown up adult social time these past four months for nothing! The check came and Chris offered to pay (yay!). My mom was holding Eloise while we were waiting for the change to come back when Chris notice that little Miss Eloise had some poop running down her leg…

At first me and Robert were actually really excited about the poop. She had been very constipated the last two weeks and hadn’t pooped in four days.

I very quickly realized that this was not something to be excited about when it was already DRIPPING in the time it took me to get out of my chair and around the table to get her.

That old guy who just told me fifteen minutes earlier that she truly was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen avoided making eye contact with me. Some kid behind us was seriously yelling for his mommy to look and see how gross my child was. I was pretty sure everyone in the place was staring at us. It was worse then my worst nightmare! Eloise, meanwhile, was as happy as a clam. She kept grabbing herself and smearing poop all over. It only got worse from there.

I wrapped her in her burp rag, grabbed the diaper bag and ran to the bathroom. For such a big restaurant they only had a one man bathroom. I had to wait in line behind two other women, all the while with baby poop flowing from Eloise. When I finally got into the bathroom I discovered they had no baby changing table. Yeah. No baby changing table table. Just perfect.

I tried to set up her changing mat on the floor, which kind of worked. She has recently mastered the art of rolling over, which was something I temporarily forgot. As soon as I set her on the mat she rolled right off. On to a public bathroom floor.


The poop was everywhere by this point.

Her beautiful new dress was ruined.

I resisted the urge to cry.

In the end I stripped her down and gave her a full blow bath in the sink of this restaurant. At first I kind of felt bad, but then I was like, “Should have had a freaking baby changing table! Serves you right!” I threw out her stinky poopy diaper and burp rag right in their garbage can without wrapping them in a plastic baggie (I want to sound bad ass and revenge-y, but actually I ran out).

The whole ordeal in the bathroom took almost fifteen minutes. As I walked out of the bathroom, past the line of angry looking women, I held my head high. The bizarre twist of fate and lack of changing table had made me indignant. Let them scoff at me. I am a mother. With the cutest baby in the world (who, by the way, never once cried).

Today is my first Mother’s Day.

Its not just a greeting card holiday. It takes a lot to be a mom- a lot more then I had ever realized. I sure as heck appreciate my own mother much more now.