Broken Phones and Lost Shoes

We bought a house on Friday.  Hooray.  Well, technically, we bought a house.  We signed the papers and paid the lawyer A LOT of money and now I have a piece of paper saying that we own the house.  We do not have keys and we have not moved in because we are renting the space to the owners until next Friday…

Last week, on my way to DC for a work meeting my phone died.  It just decided that it was time, that life as an iphone was just not worth living anymore.  I was listening to music and flipping through some form of social media when it just…well it just died.  The battery was good, it showed no signs of having any trouble, I didn’t drop it or cause any other trauma, just spontaneous failure to operate.

When I finally managed to get an appointment that was at a reasonable (not working hours) time frame at the apple store, it was Saturday.  They replaced the phone because their technical “genius” response was “huh, I guess it just died”.  Thanks.

Along with my now dead phone, died three posts worth of photos.  I have more or less made peace with that, I guess, not really, but whatever.  Life is as what it is in our world of technological reliance.  Incidentally I have maniacally hit the save button on this post at least 20 times so far, because electronics man, you never know!

Also happening last week, Ike has managed to lose three shoes.  Not three pairs, three shoes.  By the way, Ike owns 4 pairs of shoes, and one pair of rain boots that are so big that they fall off when he walks.  That left one pair of lace up Adidas as safe footwear.  At Ike’s montessori school, they encourage independent care of self, which includes getting oneself undressed in the morning and removing one’s shoes.  Therefore they encourage shoes that children can remove and put on, on their own.  Translation?  Velcro not laces!

Toddler shoes do not come cheap, especially when you consider they only wear a given size for about three months.  Saturday morning I was determined to find Ike’s missing shoes.  When he wants to go outside he generally brings me one of his shoes, to get his point across, so the pairs are often separated.  I figured the others had to be around somewhere, likely under the couch with all the millions of little plastic balls.

I searched and cleaned and rearranged the furniture downstairs and upstairs in the bedrooms for about 4 hours.  I found these all of these shoes downstairs.   None of Ike’s lost shoes were anywhere to be found.


Sunday I caught Ike putting his T-shirt into the garbage, so I have an idea of where the shoes may have ended up.

By noon Ike and I were in Target in search of some decently priced, non-lace up, extra wide (marshmellow feet), Montessori-approved shoes.

Well folks, there you have it.  500 words on missing shoes and a broken phone, that about sums up my week.


Reasons I Haven’t Been Updating My Blog

Everyday I think about fun and interesting things to write about here.  Things about Ike, travel, couponing, shopping for a house, Atlanta.  My ideas are endless.  But then every evening this thing or that thing gets in the way and I end up thinking, well there’s always tomorrow. There is so much going on in our lives right now!  That’s one of the main reasons I wanted to keep this blog.  To record and remember all of the exciting events that our family experiences.  But as it turns out, those experiences are sort of time consuming, and sometimes I like to sleep.  Sometimes.  Which leaves very little time for diddling around the internet.  Which is a bummer, because diddling is one of my favorite hobbies.

So below is my exquisite list of reasons I have not had time to write.  Or better, all my grumbles about why days really should be longer!


  1. Ike refuses to go to bed.  I give him a bottle.  I sing him 58 verses of the Wheels on the Bus.  I rock.  And I rock.  And I rock.  I cave and give him the pacifier that I’ve been trying to get rid of for several weeks now.  Two hours later and he is still up.  This doesn’t happen every night, but when it does, by the time he is asleep I have thrown in the towel and I’m going to bed too.
  2. Scale says I’m gaining weight.  I need to pack my lunch, instead of going out for whatever fried/oversized portion/crap I don’t even like food that the rest of my group has decided on that day.   So after I put Ike to bed I return to the kitchen to meticulously pack a breakfast, lunch, low fat dessert, and two healthy snacks….for AN HOUR AND A HALF!
  3. I need to shower.  Because I am at work at an obnoxious hour and I pretty much manage to get up and dress myself in the dark because Ike has found a way into our bedroom during the night (aka I have half-sleeping carried his screaming self in there because three times is too many to haul my butt out of bed).  And if I don’t shower at night, then in the morning I cannot remember whether or not I showered at night, and since if I did then I’d buy myself one extra snooze cycle, the answer is always yes in my head.  Therefore, if I don’t shower at night then I go to work smelling like straight up yesterday!
  4. My husband and I haven’t had an uninterrupted conversation in a week.  So I should probably talk to him or something for a while instead of write to a bunch of strangers on the internet.  I guess.
  5. It’s St. Patties day, and it’s imperative that I go to a pub with something tacky and green on.  And one should never share thoughts and feelings on something permanent like the internet after one has consumed one (or more) green cocktails.  Never.  No matter how brilliant it sounds in your head at the time.
  6. It was a long day and I want to go to bed at 8:00pm too.  So sometimes I do.

OK, these aren’t so much “reasons” as they are “excuses”.  And I really do want to write and share and keep things up to date in case Ike wants to read about his babyhood someday.  Or in case I need to go check and see if I was as crazy back then (right now) as I am now (when I am old.  Older).



I was all poised and ready, with my abundance of time, to sit down and write a heartfelt post about breastfeeding and attachment parenting.  I had set aside the entire evening.


Ike decided to get himself caught in the dog crate and rip his toenail halfway off!  He’s fine now, Mickey Mouse bandaid and a bottle without any attempts to swap it for a cup.


I was sitting closest to him, so obviously I feel like an enormous ass because I have no idea what happened.  I was typing an email or something, and telling him to stop playing in the cage, knowing full well he would not, because he’s one and because he’s Ike.  Then there was that petrified scream followed by a long silence, accompanied by an ever purpling face and you know what’s coming.  That blood curdling howl and instant tears.  Mommy-guilt overload in that instant.

My husband kept asking me what happened and, in my grand award-winning parenting fashion, I just stared blankly back at him because “I dunno I wasn’t actually looking at him at that moment”.  Then he demanded to know what to do about the horrifying toe nail (it’s not that bad, I promise), I suggested ice, and he suggested Tylenol and then asked if ice is that the internet recommends.  And I snarkily respond, “I don’t know why don’t you look it up on the internet”.

How was he less than two feet away from me and I didn’t even know what he hurt until there was blood?  Dude, parenting is hard!

So now I have a hurt baby and an angry husband.  I am batting a 1000 here anybody else want to take a swing?

Instead of my deeply poetic post about my boobs, slings, and essential oils; I am going to have a cup of tea, pretend it is wine, and put myself to bed early before I hurt anyone else.

Mommy had a Tantrum

…and got a mani/pedi.  Everything is fine now.

I’ve been feeling a little bit stressed lately.  About almost everything I guess.  I didn’t realize how stressed until the exhaustion kicked in though.  Long story short, there was a little melt down.

We traveled to visit Grandma this weekend.  The flight to South Bend was delayed several hours Friday night, so we elected to go to Midway instead.  That flight was wide open and everything was going along splendidly, except Ike was not sitting in the giant honking carseat I had Isaac lug through the airport.  Then I remembered that in my infinite wisdom I had put Ike’s and my coats in the checked bag so we wouldn’t have to carry them through the airport.  The checked bag that was currently en route to South Bend, as we were beginning our decent into Chicago!  Where “the current local temperature is” 15 BELOW ZERO!  Again I must praise my mothering skills here.

Anyway, we made it without any baby frost bite.  Isaac and I even got to sleep in on Saturday morning while Ike got all caught up with Grandma and his best friend Jetta (the dog).  Then we were going to go out with some of Isaac’s friends to watch one of the playoff games, when I noticed that Ike’s little fake cough was starting to sound awfully real.  We stayed in, got a pizza and were pretty much up all night with a very pissed off baby.  We went to urgent care first thing Sunday morning.  Ike’s sick, with RSV again.  I’m worried, as well I should be as his mother.   The doctor was much more relaxed about it at urgent care, he prescribed an oral steroid and told us not to worry.  He said to give him steam baths and honey for his cough and wait it out basically.  I’m very grateful for his coolness.

On top of the sick baby and the blatant motherly ineptness, we met with a realtor last week and the whole “we need to move thing” became very real.  He wants to come to our house to evaluate it’s resale potential.  Our house!? Wait, a stranger is coming to our house?  We have to hid the crap!  Wait, this stranger knows where people hide their crap and would like to see those areas too?! And have them professionally photographed!?   (steam literally escaping ears as eyes spin around in my head).  We have too much stuff.  None of it has a proper home.  Most of it probably doesn’t need a home so much as it needs an extra large garbage can (or donation site).  I don’t even know where to start.  I still feel a bit overwhelmed thinking about cleaning out this house.  I’m going to stop rambling on about it now.  I’ll work on a plan.  Tomorrow.

With the realtor obviously came a mortgage broker.  I was feeling pretty comfortable with our price range for a new home.  Until I said it out loud.  To a person who now has access to all of our deepest, darker, financial secrets.  Crap.

All of this to say, I sort of blew a gasket.  I was all “oh my god I cannot get anything right, I’m failing at everything, someone save me from myself, no just leave me, save yourselves!”  Isaac suggested that maybe I take the afternoon to go do something for me.  Maybe I let him handle Ike, and dinner, and some of the daily clutter.  Maybe he has a point.

So I got my nails done.  I feel much better now.  Plus I got to take a power nap in the massage chair.

Rather looks like someone’s tried to put lipstick on a pig wouldn’t you say?  It’s an improvement at any rate.  Plus the nap was awesome.


And Ike and Daddy?  They were home doing boy stuff and cooking me delicious shrimp tacos!


I love them.  But I was very glad to have a break to get my head together.  I’m ready deal with the clutter and the house hunting.  Anything’s possible with pretty finger and toes!

The Baby is Winning

Ike and I have been having a bit of a battle of wills the past few days.  I insist he sit in the high chair and eat, he insists that he climb out of the high chair after throwing all of the food on the floor.

Aside from the giant mess this makes on the floor.  He is STILL up all night nursing or having bottles.  Yes we have tried both with equally abysmal results.

Everyday I wake my exhausted butt up with new found determination, this baby is not going to beat me.  I am smart and also the grown up.  Everyday, he refuses every. single. thing. I put in front of him. Eggs, cheese, oatmeal, avocado, chicken, these are his favorites!  There are traces of all of these on the floor.

Last night I pulled out some baby food purees from the freezer, wondering if the problem was laziness and the labor of self feeding.  No. He refused to sit in the high chair, even after I let him taste the food in the kitchen.  So I let him out to crawl around and proceeded to follow him around with the spoon trying to force a bite here and there.  Yeah I found pureed chicken soup on a CD, a book, the corner of the table, and in my bra.

Tonight, I pureed some sweet potato, apple, and brown rice and put the high chair in the living room.  I let my child watch television while I feed him.  It was the baby channel, and it was all of about 15 minutes, but I feel pretty guilty.  He did however finish the bowl of food.  This is clearly not a long term solution though.

Does anybody have any workable solutions?  And if someone says to present the food and let it be, or that it’s his choice on what, how much or even at all I would like to personally invite you to come and spend the night at my house.  Yeah, I read that book.  No it is not working! I am so tired.

So, I’ll just be over here combing through baby sleep, eat, poop, and be reasonable books looking for a realistic solution.  Just kidding.  I’m going to have a glass of wine and pick up cheerios off the floor until Ike wakes up for his night-breakfast.


A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Target (and once inside too).

Ike and I had to make a Target run the other day.  We needed the following:  eggs, bottle liners, makeup remover wipes, and a sink plug.  Since that is more than three things, I made a list.

Off to Target we went.  And we stopped at Starbucks once inside.


OH! Target has these things now!  Ask for one, use it, it’s amazing.


Especially if you are like me and have spilled coffee on your baby.  More than once.  And you can put it anywhere on the cart, like for example out of baby’s reach, because more than once the coffee ended up on the baby of the baby’s own doing. I’ve been begging for this sort of thing for about three years now.  And it would be nice to have one on the airplanes, like in the armrests or something.  Also for baby related coffee emergencies, as well as stranger-related coffee emergencies.  Also, more than once.

That’s enough about coffee, where was I going with this?   Oh yes, we went to Target for 4 items.  This is what we bought.

  • Clearance baby socks with little orange monsters on them
  • Nursery Water
  • Clearance iphone case
  • Eggs
  • Makeup Remove wipes
  • Hand soap
  • Clearance ELF nail polish
  • Garbage Bags
  • Shredded Cheese
  • Four divided plastic tupperwares
  • A sippy cup
  • A Sale gold bangle
  • Two baskets from the One Spot
  • A Peach Green Tea from Starbucks

So we went in for FOUR items.  We purchased FOURTEEN items.  We forgot TWO of the items we needed.  AND WE HAD A LIST!


We failed Target.  But Ike did get eggs for breakfast in the morning.  With cheese even.


Bless Her Heart

You know, I’ve never really claimed to be the super-organized, together, perfect, super-mommy type.  I know very well that I am not.  I can usually be found chasing my tail in one direction or the other, or sometimes both making the whole ordeal even less productive.  I know that.  But, I do consider myself to at least be attuned to my children and husband’s basic needs most of the time.

Most. Of. The. Time.

We had a little bit of a cold snap last week here in Atlanta.  By cold snap I mean, it dipped into the low 60s.  At night.  Briefly.  Everybody go dig out your snow tires!

Nevertheless, we had some free tickets to the last Braves home stand courtesy of my work.  Isaac was out of town so I planned to take the kids with me. Well, Gabby and I were getting Ike ready to go and I told her to put pants on him, because it was probably too chilly for him to just wear his Braves onesie.  She called downstairs to me while she was getting him dressed.  “Where are all of Ike’s pants?”

I went upstairs to the nursery and pulled out his bin labeled “pants” and proceeded to remove 14 pairs of SHORTS.  And one pair of fleece pants with very wide legs which will do nothing for wind protection.  And one pair of the most obsurd white linen pants that cuffed at the ankles.  Yes I bought said pair of obsurd pants because, well, because they are adorable with a little plaid button up shirt and his aviators.  Anyway.

Not a single pair of useful pants.  Not one.  Surely this cannot be.  There has to be a pair of 9 month pants in this house somewhere!  I had to have noticed that he needs pants since he has been in 9 mo clothing for the past 8 weeks.  I went to the garage to look in his bigger clothes sizes bins.  All 12-18 month pants.  Adorable pants.  With cute little critters on the butts.  A pair of red skinny jeans.  Some cargo pants.  Fleece lined pants!  None of them fit.  Not one!  Come on! I just need one pair of pants I will go buy pants tomorrow I promise!

Ike went to the baseball game in these.


Yeah, they are six month pants.  I am an awesome mom.  Hey, I did locate two of the same sock that matched the rest of his outfit.

Anyways, Grandma to the rescue!  Grandma sent no less than 11 pairs of pants yesterday!  Ike promptly threw them all on the floor.  It’s cool, I picked them up.  They are awesome and cozy and we are ready for fall.


Oh except the shoes I bought him TWO WEEKS AGO are already too small!  Smh.