Christmas-y Things

I went through and did some major renovations to my blog. After deleting some draft posts that never got published, I realized that this is actually post 99, not 100 like I previously claimed. Sorry to be a tease! This post will be full of a lot less excitement, and a lot more whining.

Dave's cousin is a Speech Pathologist- aka my favorite type of person lately. While we were in Watertown over the Thanksgiving holiday, she volunteered to do an evaluation on Harrison. Once again, she volunteered. I know I am psycho about his speech delay, but I just wanted to make it clear for the record that the evaluation was not something I proposed. The results were a little disheartening, but not a total scare... yet. He is a little behind where he should be at this point. So not great, but not bad either.

just like our double chins: not great, but not bad either

 However, if in two months, he hasn't shown any progress, then we are in a little more trouble, and might have to pursue the issue with his pediatrician/specialists. Obviously two months is a LOT of time, especially for someone who's brain is growing at a rapid pace, but the anxious mom over here is also like, but its only two months. Actually now more like 7 weeks. I hope my Speech Pathologist friends (you know who you are) are ready for me to talk their ears off!!

As you all know, I have an extremely lame social life and only have plans once every two months, on average. So when one of those rare occasions pops up, I'm basically looking forward to it obsessively for weeks. One of those events is coming up! My friend Anna is hosting a Christmas Dinner at her house, and it's the Second-Annual, which obviously makes it even more exciting. I can't decide what I'm more thrilled about: the fact that last year I was breastfeeding, and had to limit my wine intake, and this year I sure as hell don't have to, or that her house is literally 30 seconds around the corner from my parents, so there has never been an easier babysitting solution. Both, I think. I actually just love the Christmas season for the fact that it's the perfect excuse to throw parties, which leads me to feel really popular.

Christmas is also great for outfits like this

If anyone was wondering how my hiatus from Facebook was going- I'm loving it, actually. I had to log back in today temporarily to message someone whose contact information I would not know otherwise, but promptly re-deactivated once I fulfilled my conversation. It's basically the best of both worlds, because this way, I don't have to see everyone else's SHIT (yes that had to be capitalized for emphasis), and Dave informs me of all of the big, exciting, relevant news (like his friends getting engaged over the weekend! Congrats you two, who I don't think are readers anyway).

We got our tree over the weekend. After getting it home, we realized the fullness of the branches is extremely one-sided, but with some reorganization of our furniture, we have successfully made the tree look symmetrical. The good news is that Harrison HATES the prickly-ness, so we were able to decorate it, and put all of our presents under it, with no tampering from the toddler. That in itself is the biggest victory of them all. I'm also, for once, really ahead on things, like shopping, wrapping, decorating, etc etc... Here is some proof:

The main takeaway you should have from this picture is that I made those curtains

I have never been prouder of anything in my life

Are you ready for Christmas yet?

Random Holiday List

Ok guys, I know. I haven't blogged in a while. This will be my 99th post and I think I'm just scared of approaching the 100 mark because I know I'll never write a post as exciting as the 100th post should be. Just wait about 10 months and I'll have finally conjured something up.

And here's this beautiful sight in the meantime 

Let's do a list so I can catch you all up on all the excitement:

• Harrison has progressed from "dada" and "gaga" and has said an actual word: Dog.

I'm only counting it because I've heard a real solid "dog" out of him about four times. I will flip through books with him, and point at a dog, and ask him what it is, and he kinda stutters and makes some clucking noises, then finally manages a "d" and a "g" in some concoction that is definitely not English, but I'm counting it. 

• The holidays are approaching rapidly and I am not ready.

Actually, I have completed the gift purchasing for one family member, and Dave and I agreed to not do gifts this year as an attempt to budget (ha!) for our wedding, and Harrison doesn't know what the hell Christmas even is, so I guess that knocks out a few more. When people ask me what I'm getting for Harrison for Christmas, and I tell them a sled and that's it, and they proceed to look at me all horror-stricken, I think: and that's why the human race is greedy. A one year old will be perfectly happy with a sled, because he doesn't realize there are millions of other toys that he could have gotten in addition. I'm saving myself now while I can. Plus, let's not pretend that all of his other family members will spoil him. Let's also not pretend I fully intend to get him a puppy one year for Christmas so there's that too. 

I LOVE PUPPIES

• I removed myself from Facebook... temporarily.

Until I can't last any longer. My main reason for deactivating was that I felt it took me too much away from Harrison. Not that I won't be on my phone every now and then to text, Instagram, or check Twitter, but I felt that checking Facebook on the reg not only distracted me from Harrison, I just felt like I was getting to the point where the majority of what I saw on Facebook was negative and/or annoying me. I really don't care about some bitch that wore blue eyeshadow to your class. Not to say I'm above indulging in a good Facebook stalk every now and then, but I just really don't care about most other people. Sorry I'm not sorry.

• Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I plan to eat all the things.

  

  SAMESIES

And drink all the things. That's all. 

Are you as excited to stuff your face for Thanksgiving as I am? 

Dada

It's no surprise that I cannot stand when other moms make false claims about their babies. Actually, one of my only mommy-friends and I have a sport of texting each other when we see a false, delusional claim and making fun of that mom endlessly, while also patting ourselves on that back for not being deranged like that. So, the other night, an event occurred that I don't even know I can share publicly, since I'm afraid that people won't believe it.

Or maybe it's because I don't believe it either. Too good to be true, or something. Keep in mind that my son is nearly 15 months old. He may or may not have said his first word. He was in the bath, and after like 100 times of us obnoxiously saying "dada" in his face, he looked at us and repeated it! Albeit very slowly, like "da......da" but maybe that still counts? Votes? We also were screaming "Yay!!" in his face right after and he looked very proud of himself so again, that counts, right? 

And the silence ends... now. For forever.

Either way, it's going in the baby book so that I can pretend to no longer be paranoid that he's behind and/or has a learning disability. Sidenote: he's actually really smart, and comprehends a lot, so really I think he's fine. Like when we say "Harrison, show us your belly!" he immediately pulls his shirt way up, like over his face, and flashes us. It is the. cutest. thing. If you've never witnessed this side show before, I suggest you find a way to LeRoy, NY to see the Flashing Baby ASAP.

For my next trick, watch me walk around in the shoes of giants

Halloween is later this week. Some of you already know what Harrison and I (and Dave) are dressing up as, but since I have no pictures yet, the rest of you will have to wait. Part of me does not know why I paid money to dress the entire family up for a whopping 30 minutes, while we Trick-or-Treat with a child who hates all humans and all experiences that are outside of his own dwelling, but what's done is done. To add to the misery, Harrison and I are meeting one of my friends at the Strong Museum of Play for their Trick-or-Treating event as well. So, two rounds of Trick-or-Treating for the Boy Who Hates All The Things. It should definitely be interesting, and if all else fails (which it will), at least I will have collected so much candy to drown my sorrows in. Next year, or possibly the year after- if I can stand to wait, I am pulling the "I ate all of your Halloween candy" trick on him to see how hilarious his reaction is. If you think that's cruel, you've obviously never seen the Jimmy Kimmel skit about it... watch that shit now.

Ridiculously large cowboy hats are my FAVORITE 

What are you dressing up as for Halloween?

Weekend Freedom

Just wanted to do a quick Sunday blog post because I can. That's right, mommy is Free.

Let me get into a little back story. The reason why I'm free is a complicated one- Dave and Harrison are in Watertown, but since I am a server, weekends are hard for me to take off, so I stayed home to work. This is the second time in two months that Dave and Harrison have left me to go to Watertown, because they are needed back home to help out with Dave's dad...

At the end of July, Dave's dad got in a very serious accident on their family farm. He got run over by a cattle trailer that had been backing up to drop cows off. Neither saw the other, and Greg was pulled under the trailer for it's entire length. The full cattle trailer had 8 inches of clearance off the ground, so just try to picture that for a second. Greg had a long list of injuries, including but not limited to: both broken hips, shattered pelvis, 16 broken ribs, broken collarbone, 2 broken vertebrae, and both lungs collapsed. I'm sure there were more. After three surgeries, 5 units of blood, a day on the ventilator, and 6 weeks in the hospital, he is finally home, but in a wheelchair while he undergoes physical therapy to relearn how to put weight on his hips, and essentially, walk. He is expected to make a full recovery, but life is definitely changed for the Porter's for the time being.

If I was ever unsure where Harrison got that face from... I know now. 

To read a full article on the accident: Click here

I don't know why it took me so long to write a post about the accident, seeing as it is nearly three months later. I guess it's just hard to put words to such a scary incident. But everyone is so glad that Greg is ok!

Including Harrison, whose new favorite thing to do is run up and down the ramp they built for Greg to get into the house. And also play with the 4398 barn cats.. which frightens me. 

So long story short, I am a free lady this weekend. Friday night, I went out in Rochester with the ladies to see our favorite band (aka to be groupies). Not sure why, maybe because the bar was packed, we hardly even watched them, and instead posted up at the bar for the majority of the night. This worked to our advantage, since my one lady became BFFs with the bartender, who then made us free shots. If anyone knows me, they know I love shots (the song Shots by LMFAO is my #1 favorite song of LIFE), but if there is anything better than shots, it's free shots.

Saturday was spent on the couch for the majority of the day, which is fine by me, because I never get to do that, then followed by working last night.

Today, I slept in til 9- glory of glories right there. I'm now leisurely drinking my coffee, which in combination with sleeping in, is one of the best feelings EVER. Please be jealous of the total of 4 days out of 365 that I get to sleep in.

One last thing, and completely random, but can we all admire two things:

1. How BEAUTIFUL MY SON IS

2. How amazing our photographer is (http://roseannalynnphotography.org/)

How was your weekend?

Do you think sleeping in feels as good as I do??

The Worst Season

Now that it's October, my social media outlets are getting flooded with weirdos praising Fall. Nothing in life infuriates me more than people professing their love for "sweater weather". I obviously live in the wrong region, so maybe I'm the crazy one, but what is so exciting and fun about being trapped, literally stuck inside your house, in 2 feet of snow? Nothing.

I am one of those freaks that are always cold (however, I'm not as bad as my sister). As in, I have a sweater on when it's 72 degrees out. Thus, I really, really hate the cold weather, and in fact- would unofficially diagnose myself with seasonal depression. It's worse this year, since I have an actual toddler to entertain, and my main form of brightening his day was to bring him outside and let him run around like a madman. I know he will still want to play outside, but I cannot tolerate the cold, so it should be a fun battling of wills. Spoiler alert: he will win. He just will.

Can't say no to this face

I also hate pie.

The thought of pie just makes me CRINGE

 Call me a terrorist. All these people are like "yay, it's pie season". Wtf does that even mean? There's a season to eat pie? You can't eat that shit year-round? The only pies I like are non-pies, like chocolate peanut butter pie, and pecan pie, which is basically pure sugar on a plate. Also, pumpkin pie, which brings me to my next point:

The only Fall praise I can give is to the reintroduction of everything pumpkin. Let me list all the delicious ways you can eat pumpkin: pumpkin lattes, pumpkin pie, Joy's pumpkin cheesecake brownie bars, Joy's pumpkin shakes (mom- this is a not-so subtle hint to please make these again this year), pumpkin bagels, pumpkin muffins... Need I go on? 

So all in all, expect me to like you a little bit less (or a lot less) if you say anything about how yesterday, when it was 79 degrees out and beautiful, that you were miserable and wanted cold weather instead. Or if you say anything about how you like snow. Snow is the devil. I wouldn't mind if it never snowed, and yes, that includes Christmas.

How am I supposed to wear this hat though? 

Basically, I need to move to California. Bye, bitches. 

In other news, this weekend was pretty uneventful. I cleaned, Dave and I had some friends over, and I worked. Wait, no, the only eventful part was the Colts' win yesterday over the Seahawks.

 Usually, I get excited when they win (obviously), but it was even better yesterday because the game was actually aired locally. THIS NEVER HAPPENS. Why? Because of the damn Buffalo Bills. Again, reasons why I need to move to a different geological area: The Bills suck only slightly less than the annoyance of Bills' fans. Done, I said it.

What do you love/hate about the fall & colder weather?

Are you a Bills fan? If so, leave this blog and never come back.

13 months later

Now that I have a child in double-digit months (14 in a few days!), I've realized how different things are from a year ago with a small infant.

• Life is so much easier. 

To get out the door, all I have to do is make sure he has a sweatshirt/jacket on, sometimes put his sneakers on, grab the diaper bag, and hand him his cup of juice for the ride. 

Oh, and the bear. Always the bear.

It used to be that I would have to time my departure on Harrison's nursing schedule (oh wait there never was a schedule), and consequently nurse him the very moment before I was supposed to leave, make sure I was home no later than two hours from when I left so that I could nurse him again, and usually change his outfit once before we left because he had spit up all over himself. 

Also, with an infant, you can't just set them down and go on with your business. For the first few months, you have to carry them in that damn car seat carrier, which weighs no less than 247 pounds, while also lugging around the diaper bag, that you've packed FULL of bibs, pacifiers, rattles, and obviously- diapers. Quick trips to wegmans can never be quick, because you have to configure the carseat carrier in the shopping cart, which is practically rocket science. 

Plus, if you had my child, you had to be holding him at ALL times. That shit is not easy. When do you find time to make a sandwich? Never, that's when. 

• I laugh like all day.

Can you tell why?

Not that I never laughed with a 3 month old, but the laughing has reached new levels. And actually, I used to cry a lot because all Harrison would do was cry, so I'd even go as far as saying laughter has replaced the tears. 

I'm going to take a second to brag, which I normally never do since what 20-something is going to be like, "I am so jealous of her life as a stay-at-home mom. I wish I never had the freedom to go out and spent all my money on diapers". However, while that is all true, I guarentee I laugh more than all ya'll. What's that phrase, laughter is the best medicine? Because it seriously is. Harrison makes me laugh all day long, and I finally am really happy to be where I am in life. I realize that sounds horrible, because it took me almost 14 months to become a happy parent, but guys, I was working with the devil child, ok? 

And for some not-so-positive changes:

• the poops have reached a new level of rancidness. 

Breastmilk poopies smelled like roses compared to what I'm working with now. Although, to quote the great recording group, Outkast, "roses really smell like poo poo poo". Solid food diapers are easily the worst smelling things to enter my nostrils. 

• Feeding this child is costing us a small fortune.

Kid loves to eat. 

Evidence

  

Especially the most expensive food items, like raspberries. The cost of feeding him for the most part of his first year was free. Free is always better. 

But the fatter the happier

On a daily basis, how often do you laugh? 

Wedding Priorities

Since I'm always claiming that I never have time to blog because of my obsession with Pinterest-ing wedding ideas, I thought I'd do a post on some recent wedding planning progress (Katie take note and please post!) PS- no one has instilled the fear in me that I am behind on my wedding planning more so than Katie.

I've never been one to care about wedding flowers as a top priority. Sure, I'd like the flowers to look nice and I also have a strict no-roses policy, because everyone, and I mean everyone, uses roses in their wedding and I will not be a member of the status quo. Other than that, I really am not too keen on the floral aspect of the event. Sidenote: while I'm discussing my priorities for the nuptials, they include: open bar, and dancing. Done and done. 

Not me? Thanks.

So in a roundabout way, I am trying to say that I haven't been excited about the flowers until now. That's because Wegmans is doing them. I'm pretty much excited about all things Wegmans, for example: Wegmans subs, Wegmans desserts, Wegmans yogurt, Wegmans salad bar, etc etc. WEGMANS IS MY LIFE. I'd have my entire wedding planned and executed by Wegmans if I could. Better yet, I would have it IN a Wegmans.

WEGMANS!! (please excuse the Christmas pjs... it's laundry day)

I'll end my proclamation of love for Wegmans to proclaim my love for a different place: the IB. Geneseo alum need no explanation, but for those of you that had the misfortune of not attending Geneseo, picture the IB as the most magical, perfect bar. The one where you know everyone, including the bouncers who let you in for over even when they know you are not. The one where beers are $.50, but when you are in the mood to take a round of shots (liquid cocaine) with every single one of your friends, those are only $3. The one where every song that is played is the best song. The one where on your last night of college ever, everyone is there, crying, dancing, hugging, and you think life will never be the same without that bar, yet every alumni weekend when you return it's like you never left. Yup, no exaggeration at all, that is the IB. 

This is my impression of mommy after a night at the IB. NAILED IT. 

How does this relate to wedding planning? Because the other night, Dave and I got to the task of brainstorming songs for the wedding playlist (remember dancing is a TOP priority so this was extremely important). Our main verification if a song was accepted on the playlist was whether or not that song was an IB staple. Wedding guests should be prepared ahead of time that our main purpose for this wedding is to recreate a night in the IB. My son has already got the dancing down. Please watch:

This turned out more like a GIF than the actual video, but I'm not mad about it

Facebook Rage

I seriously have some wise people in my life, specifically those that work in the profession of Speech Pathology, because their intelligence on the subject really helped to calm my fears, and get Harrison right on track! Since my last post, Harrison has started to make consonant sounds, like "da", "ga", and "ba", and has on a few occasions, even strung together a couple syllables. Nothing I would officially deem as a word yet, but he's getting there! See, I told you I was a nut, worrying about nothing on the reg! At least I still haven't laid claims that my 13-month old is not only speaking words, but stringing together entire sentences and has begun to master Spanish.

Mastering the Prime of his Asian, though.

But speaking of things that people do that piss me off, I came across an INFURIATING post on Facebook the other day, and thought- why not get the anger off my chest and vent on a public forum? I can't figure out an easier/shorter way of posting it, than by just copying and pasting, so feel free to skip right on down to my commentary after the jump.

Here is the original post, that I was able to see because one of my Facebook friends reposted it from the author:

Dear Mom On the iPhone,

I see you over there on the bench, messing on your iPhone. It feels good to relax a little while your kids have fun in the sunshine, doesn’t it? You are doing a great job with your kids, you work hard, you teach them manners, have them do their chores.

But Momma, let me tell you what you don’t see right now…..

Your little girl is spinning round and round, making her dress twirl. She is such a little beauty queen already, the sun shining behind her long hair. She keeps glancing your way to see if you are watching her. 

You aren’t.

Your little boy keeps shouting, “Mom, MOM watch this!” I see you acknowledge him, barely glancing his way. 

He sees that too. His shoulders slump, but only for a moment, as he finds the next cool thing to do.

Now you are pushing your baby in the swing. She loves it! Cooing and smiling with every push. You don’t see her though, do you? Your head is bent, your eyes on your phone as you absently push her swing. 

Talk to her. Tell her about the clouds, Mommy. The Creator who made them. Tickle her tummy when she comes near you and enjoy that baby belly laugh that leaves far too quickly.

Put your eyes back on your prize…Your kids.

Show them that they are the priority. Wherever you are, be ALL there. I am not saying it’s not ok to check in on your phone, but it’s a time-sucker: User Beware!

Play time at the park will be over before you know it.

The childhood of your children will be gone before you know it.

They won’t always want to come to the park with you, Mommy. They won’t always spin and twirl to make their new dress swish, they won’t always call out, “WATCH ME!”

There will come a point when they stop trying, stop calling your name, stop bothering to interrupt your phone time. 

Because they know…

You’ve shown them, all these moments, that the phone is more important than they are. They see you looking at it at while waiting to pick up brother from school, during playtime, at the dinner table, at bedtime…..

I know that’s not true, Mommy.

I know your heart says differently.

But your kids can’t hear your words, Mommy. Your actions are screaming way too loudly. 

May our eyes rest upon those we love, first and foremost, and may everything else fall away in the wonderful, noisy, sticky-fingered glory of it all.


So let me start off by reacting to the post itself, and then I'll get into the fury I had at the person who actually shared it.

I get that the message is one of care, and a message that we should not take what we have for granted. But I must first point out that the author was a male. Not that males can't love children the way women do, all I'm saying is that I can't know for sure whether this man even has kids of his own, or if he is a stay-at-home dad. The woman he refers to though, seems to be a full-time caretaker of her children. So for the purpose of this example, let's compare a working parent (assuming the author is one), to a stay-at-home one (the Mom on the iPhone).

Meaning, he does not realize actually how much this mom does watches her children. How much her eyes are on them, watching them to make sure they are playing safely, or eating their lunch. And no matter how intently she watches them, no matter how good of a mom you can be, your eyes CANNOT be on your children at every waking second in the day. Because you will, at times, need a break. Yes, you love your children like no other, but the full-time job of parenting is a tough one, and no one understands that better than the fellow mommies and daddies that stay at home with their kids. So, my message to that Mom on the iPhone, is to go ahead and take your much deserved break. Because your kids are exhausting, and if checking Facebook for a couple minutes helps your brain to decompress, in order to be more alert with your children after those two minutes are over, go right ahead.

My other pet peeve after reading that little tidbit, is that I firmly believe that no parent should judge other parents. We all have a hard job, probably the hardest one out there, and whatever way we choose to deal with the challenges that we face, is our decision. Just because you may choose to deal with the stress and exhaustion and demands in a different way, doesn't mean the other way is wrong.

The most exhausting

For example, sometimes when I couldn't get Harrison to stop screaming crying for the first 8 months of his life, I would scream back at him. Like, bloody murder, right in his face. Was that an acceptable method of dealing with the situation? Probably not. Did it work? Nope. But it was what I needed to do to let my frustrations out, so that I could cope with the crying baby in my arms.

Sure, I make fun of moms who are delusional, because they deserve to be made fun of for some of their outrageous claims, but if it makes them feel better to share on Facebook that their 8-month old runs AND says 20 words, then by all means. As a parent, I try my hardest to not judge other parents, so I would hope that my ways of caring for Harrison are not judged either.

Like the times when I dress him in women's necklaces

Now, I will get into the part that actually pissed me off the most- the person that posted this on Facebook. This person shared the link, with the caption "READ." This particular person is not a parent. I mean, unless they have some illegitimate child running around somewhere that I am unaware of, this person has no known children. So why was this Facebook friend of mine reposting a commentary on parenting, something he/she knows NOTHING about? If there is something that pisses me off more than parents judging other parents, it's non-parents judging parents. Please- I don't pass judgments on the way you conduct your career, because I don't know anything about ______ career. So do not post an article about how parents should interact with their children when you have none.

I may not have hand-grown and hand-made Harrison's baby food, and I sure as hell didn't forgo a glass of wine while breastfeeding, and I will be the first to admit that I probably am a little addicted to my iPhone, but I do not need non-parent "friends" of mine judging me for any of that. Have a child first, then talk.

Any Facebook posts of lately pissing you off?

Follower-Mom

When it comes to my parenting, I tend to be a follower. Not in the crazy sense, where if I hear that some lunatics out there refuse to vaccinate their children, I'll follow suit, but more just the little things.

For example, when I heard that other moms had started turning their children's carseats from rear-facing to forward-facing sooner than the recommended age of 2, I was all like, "Yea, eff the American Pediatric Society! What do they know?" and proceeded to turn Harrison's carseat forward-facing right then and there. To be fair, the minimum weight requirement for a child to be facing forward in the car is 20 pounds, and he was like 21. So that was that.

Worked like a charm

Or when I heard that breastfeeding is God's gift to babies and formula is the devil, my decision was a no-brainer. Formula-fed babies are clearly under-developed and less intelligent than breastfed ones.... HA! But no really, not that I had a real specific devotion to or opinion of either option, but my mom suggested nursing because she was a fan back in the day, so there I was, easily convinced and lactating away. Wait, no now that I think of it, my decision to BF was solely based on how many calories it burns a day. You all knew that already though.

Really though, really?

So now that I have an almost-13-month-old on my hands, who barely makes 2 consonant sounds a day, I find myself becoming a follower once again. Sure, every mom freaks out when their child is "behind" developmentally, especially now with the glories/horrors of the internet to instill it even more in us that every other mom has a child-genius, who is saying "mama" and gesturing at their Giver of Life at 6 months old. Sidenote: Impossible. Sidenote: can you tell how frustrated I am with the Moms of Social Media lately?

Not that Harrison is really showing a lack of brain function, since he was ahead of the game at walking and motor skills, and the rumor is that boys tend to develop language more slowly than girls. Even so, there are Internet sources and blogs that have 15-month old children getting evaluated by speech therapists. This is a frightening fact. Even Harrison's pediatrician said at his 1-year well visit that it was perfectly normal for him not to be making consonant sounds, or showing any signs of speech. That made me feel a lot better... until she said that at his next well check-up, if he hasn't progressed, they might need to look more into it. And a month later, we are still at NOTHING.

Being the follower-mom that I am, I consulted my friend, who is a Speech Pathologist, about Harrison's status. While she assured me, as did the pediatrician, as well as my mom, that Harrison is fine and his speech will come in time, I am still having a minor freak out. Because if there's anything you need to know about moms, it's that we are bound to freak out about our children on some issues (some moms more than others).

I have conversations with my bear... Does that count?

The moral of this story is that Harrison needs to talk soon, for all of our sakes. I can tell he gets frustrated when he wants something and can't convey it, and I need a break from the crazy thoughts that float around my head like, "What if Harrison needs speech therapy?", or better yet, "What if Harrison is deaf in one ear and can't hear us talking, which in turn is preventing him from learning to talk himself?!?!" You get the picture. I'm a freak.

joke's on you. 

In life, are you a leader or a follower?

Excuses are the way to go

I'm really good at making excuses, so here are my various excuses for why I haven't been blogging:

1. No internet.

Still. You may be wondering how I'm even writing this, since I have already established that it's not coming from my phone, and that will remain my little secret. No internet also means no TV, which logically would mean I would have more time to blog, but I've actually been extremely productive at important tasks (cleaning, cooking) without the TV to distract me.

2. Big, rented house.

Because we are renting, I have developed a new OCD-like tendency to clean. Prior to moving into this house, I was not one for cleaning. Not to say I was the messiest person ever, but I could definitely tolerate slight-to-moderate messes (ask any/all of my life roommates). However, I feel an overwhelming responsibility to make sure the house is spotless at all (ok, maybe most) times.

Actually, I'm the clean one around here

I have this fear that the owners are just going to show up one day to evaluate the state of the house, which would never really happen because the owners are Dave's cousins, not psychopaths. In any case, I find myself unable to do other activities, such as write a blog post, until all the cleaning tasks have been completed. Not a bad compulsion to have developed, and yet, I can still whine.

3. Harrison.

Obvi. He really puts a damper on my freedom, I'll tell ya. He's always been a crazy human, but lately, his craziness has reached new levels. What I mean by that is that he runs. He runs now. So he runs around the house wanting me to chase after him, he runs around the lawn ready to throw himself in the creek just to make sure I am on watch, he runs from one toy to the next because his attention span is like 5 seconds, he just runs.

Too busy running to care

You'd think this would mean he is tiring himself out more, leading to more naps, but actually, he has begun to resist his afternoon nap entirely, and that's a problem. I couldn't blog when the kid was taking two naps a day so... get ready for absolute hibernation over here. But really, Harrison is just such a ball of energy now, that I think I get more exhausted running after him than he does running himself. And I hear it only gets worse.

4. Employment.

That's right. After a year of the bliss/house arrest of being a stay-at-home mom, I have returned to the work force. Just part-time. I got a serving job so that we won't have to worry about childcare, since I'll be working nights and weekends opposite of Dave. This obviously means I will be seeing Dave a lot less than previously, which sucks, but the awesome part is that I get to leave for work exactly when Harrison's witching period begins. I've dealt with that shit for a year and now it's time to pass the torch. It really is perfect- just when I'm ready to either throw Harrison out a window or pull a Britney and shave my head off, I get to leave!

You don't love me anymore?

Now that I have an income, we will finally return to the civilized world of TV and internet.

TV?!?!?!

Hopefully I will learn the skill of time management better, so that blogging will not be put on the back burner. Mainly just so that I don't have to hear you people whine about it :) However, I am running my first-ever Fantasy Football team this year and I get pretty competitive about stuff, so all of my free time could possibly be devoted to that.

The Grassroots recap that never was and a Wine Tour recap

Sometimes I'll write a whole post up during one of Harrison's naps, then he wakes up, and instead of just posting it without any pictures, I scold myself that a real blogger would always have pictures, so I save it as a draft and promise myself that I'll come back to it with pictures ASAP and post. Sometimes that actually happens a lot, so in my head I think, "Oh yeah, I've blogged recently", when really, I failed and did not.

That happened with my post about Grassroots. I came away from Grassroots with only two pictures, and have since deleted one, so in the above theory, it's not even worth publishing. The takeaway from my summary is this: everyone needs to experience Grassroots. That is, everyone who likes to dance and listen to music. Grassroots is just a mingling of all types of people, all ages (literally saw a baby within weeks of the womb, and then a 70-year old man dancing like he was on acid), who all just want to have a great time relaxing, dancing, listening to amazing tunes. So there you have it. I had fun.

I can't say I had any more fun at Grassroots than I did this past Saturday though. Saturday was some of the most fun I've had in a while, probably because it reminded me more of my days at Geneseo than anything else... except for going back to Geneseo. All of my friends from Geneseo participated in our "annual" wine tour. However, it was my first, since surprise surprise, the first year I was at Grassroots, and last year I was about 39.3 weeks pregnant. So all in all, I had been looking forward to this experience for three years, no biggie.

From the years past, I had heard wild stories of the happenings of the wine tour, so I was very optimistic that this year would bring the same results. When you start drinking champagne at 11am, and don't stop until 6pm, that can happen. My highlights from the wine tour are as follows: dancing on the limo to some awesome 90s jams, the collection of like 70 corks given to me by one of the wineries for a wedding project,

The only proof that I was on a wine tour

 and getting accosted by the limo driver because of the members of our party got us "kicked off the property", which in actuality, no one believes happened.

Post wine-tour, we ate, had some coffee, some of us napped, and then we were ready for Part 2 of the night. If you read anything in this post, it's that I like to dance, so after hopping around a little, we ended up at the kinda-sketchy, kinda-scummy, but plays-great-tunes dance club, and I danced the night away. I definitely felt it the next morning, and actually I think we all did. Let's just say that Geneseo taught us well.

So now it's Monday, and this is Harrison's last week as a baby, aka a human less than the age of 1. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? I probably can't even bring myself to write a full post about his actual birthday, or about how I have a 1-year old, because I'm in denial and my only solution is to just pretend the growing stops now.

Are we laughing at my toupee of hair or... ?

In reality though, we are throwing a party for him on Sunday and I am really, really excited. Food, drinks, and frosting. I have a huge fear that he'll hate the cake, or be too fussy and swat it away, or just something preventing him from going to TOWN on that shit. Is it not the cutest thing when the babies bathe themselves in the frosting at the pure joy of tasting something that delicious? Because watch, my son will not grant me this joy and I'll forever be depressed. That, or I'll disown him, since Miller spawn MUST LOVE FROSTING (See Chocolate is my Life).

Are you as excited for Harrison's 1st Birthday as I am? If you're not, leave this blog and never come back.

This picture has no relevancy, just wanted you to all witness that perfect little hiney 

No Internet = No pictures = Boring Post

Just incase you were wondering, the move went well and yes, I'm still alive. However, we do not have internet or cable at the new house yet, so I don't want to get any texts about why I haven't blogged. I'm just a devotee who is spending valuable time that I could be using to sit around and watch all the shows I've missed, to blog to you from my parents'.

We enlisted the help of three of our friends to assist with the moving, as well as the babysitting skills of my parents to help with Harrison-duty. We whipped that shit out in mere hours, then sat around on our back porch drinking beers and eating cheeseburgers. Despite the food coma, I still had high hopes for myself to go out Saturday night. It was the big summer festival in the new town, meaning probably the one and only night it would be acceptable/exciting/fun to go out to the rinky-dink bars. However, the move took it right out of me, and I think I was in pajamas by 8pm. The only good that came from that was that I was up at 7am the next morning feeling (partly) well-rested to start the dreaded task of unpacking. My inner-Superwoman came out of me, and I finished up the unpacking by 2pm in order to go meet my very preggo bestie for lunch. Win win.

The next huge step in my motherhood career is about to be upon me. I am leaving Harrison for a whole weekend. Previously, I had left him for one night to attend the most magical event known to man, and that basically gave me a nervous breakdown. Somehow, I'm not as nervous about this one though.

Dave and I are going to the Grassroots Festival of Music and Dance. If you think that sounds like a haven for hippies, you are correct. It's three days of peace, love, and happiness... oh, and dancing. I have been looking forward to this festival since we went in 2011. Due to my 38 week pregnancy last year at this time, we were unable to go, but this year, I am dropping Harrison off at his grandparents and never looking back. Until Sunday, when we go pick him up.

Surprisingly, I think this will be an easier parting with Harrison than the last. For one, he's no longer nursing, as you know, and will drink milk from a cup, so that helps. Secondly, he is, I think, getting over the separation anxiety. Praise Jesus. Finally, he is actually more familiar with Dave's parents' house than our new house, so there's that too. And if worse comes to worse, we are only 2 hours away so I can put the pedal to the metal if I need to.

Most importantly, I am ok with leaving Harrison for a few days because I need a vacation, and the lovely Trumansburg, NY is it. So for those of you who go to Florida every 3 months but complain that you never get a vacation, read this, and think again...

Carnies and Cows

Over the past two days, I have been at a very interesting place, to put it nicely. I was subject to the Jefferson County Fair. Dave's family is basically maniacal about the fair, because they show cows, and never in my life have I witnessed anything like it.

I had attended the JeffCo Fair once before, BH- Before Harrison. Listen to all of the tortures I was put through: scooping up cow feces, not once but three times, getting to peasant-child level of dirty, and almost having a cow trample me. To some people, these occurrences are fun, but to me, not so much. After the first time scooping poop I decided right then and there that it would be my last trip to the fair.

Oh how wrong I was.

Dave is still needed every year to help with the fair, prepping the cows, milking them at 3am, etc etc.. so I thought I would be a very nice baby momma and go with him. I was prepared for a full two days of torture in the form of Harrison's crying. Something worse happened, though. He actually went crazy for the fair, as in, LOVED it. He loved running around in the dirt and hay, watching the cows as long as they didn't get too close, and being one with the carnies and cow-obsessed.

TOO CLOSE, TOO CLOSE

What this means for me is that now, every year, I will be forced to go back. FORCED. And in a few years, Harrison will have to (or want to) show the cows, which means I will have to help him, and that requires poop-scooping. I realize that parents have to make sacrifices for their kids, but WHY?? I cannot handle this one.

If nothing else, at least I'll get some cute pictures out of it.

I'm definitely not saying that I don't like the cows, because I do. Especially after a year of the commiseration we had. I feel for ya lady cows, lactation is no walk in the park. Yesterday, I watched one lady leak milk for over two hours and I wanted to cry for her, because I understand how uncomfortable it is. I also really enjoy milk and dairy products, so actually, I might even love the cows.

Cute from afar

I just want no part in cleaning them, wiping their asses, or collecting their BMs in a bucket. Good thing I'm marrying into a family of dairy farmers...

You're doomed, mommy

And speaking of dairy, I am officially done with breastfeeding as of yesterday. Actually not done yet, because I am about to explode with milk at the moment. I cannot move because, well, it hurts. It's been a good 50 hours without nursing. Just use your imagination. Please lord, make this torture end soon.

I probably picked a really horrible time to engorge myself because tomorrow is the big move! If my boobs don't sort themselves out by tomorrow, I'm in for a really fun, painful experience. Everyone pray. Please. Now.

Recollections of Lactation

The weaning has begun. Any male readers might want to skip this post.

So basically, it's been a pretty good run with breastfeeding. We got off to a rough start, where Harrison decided he wouldn't latch at the hospital until the very last second. At which point, they shoved us out of that place, and off we were with hardly any guidance or success.

However, we made it on our own, with the help of a nipple shield for 4 months. It was fun when I would lose that thing and Harrison would be screaming for milk, yet would not latch without it, and the closest store that sold them was 35 minutes away, and I would be crying that he was crying. Good times.

We've come so far

Once the era of the nipple shield was over, we had a pretty smooth run, until we hit the era of the biting. This was about a month ago, coinciding with the arrival of his two front teeth, so he obviously felt that he needed to bite down on anything and everything. Don't worry though, he only drew blood once, and that injury only bled for a couple days. It's fine, I'm over it. (Sarcasm... will never be over that). The sight of my pumped breastmilk with a pinkish tint from the blood, is one I will never get out of my head.

And throughout all this hardship, was the most terrible hardship of them all: when Harrison decided he was too good for a bottle. Straight from the source, only. This was quite literally like being handcuffed to my child. I couldn't leave him without the fear of him going hungry, and when I did leave, the fear of him going hungry consumed my every thought.

Psh.. I'll eat anything. I'm an angel

With all this complaining I'm doing, you would think I would be 100% ready to be done nursing. In some ways, I am, but in others I'm not. For one, I complain about being starved at all times and never being able to feel satiated, yet I'm sure as hell going to miss the calorie burning. Exercise is no friend of mine, so I have a feeling that once my nursing career is over (for now anyway), and I might be forced to work out more than once every 3 months, I'll miss BFing, a lot.

I'll also miss the closeness. As you know, Harrison hates being touched. Not just by strangers, by everyone, including his dear mother. I can't even rub his little head without him immediately grabbing my arm and forcibly taking it off his head. He's stronger than he looks. So, nursing is my only chance to cuddle/be close to him, and let's face it... I am a mush about the cuddling so I will be a little depressed that it will be gone from my life.

Despite the parts of BFing that I will miss, the things I gain definitely outweigh. One word: Caffeine.  Being able to consume as much caffeine I desire for the first time in like 21 months is extremely exciting.

Also, to be able to fit into all of my old bras is basically going to be like being freed from shackles. Now, I'm on a rotation of three bras. Let me rephrase that for you, for 11 months, I've been on a rotation of 3 bras. I'm complaining about this as if I didn't have a single penny to put towards purchasing more bras, but I could never find the same ones I have, and I was afraid of change. Listen, nursing is an uncomfortable activity and finding the right bra is essential. First world problems, I think.

I also can't wait for... and pardon me sounding like an alcoholic here.. to consume the occasional 5pm happy hour beverage. I usually wait til after Harrison's last nursing of the day, or until after I had pumped, to have a drink, but soon, I can just have one whenever I damn well please.

I am trying to keep my outlook about the end of BFing positive, and not dwell on the things I will miss. Who would have thought I would have turned into one of those addicted-to-breastfeeding crazies?

Please someone, save me from the crazy lady!

 In any case, I need to focus on the here and now, and that is the weaning process. The soreness to come is paralyzing me with terror.