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In honor of the March 11th release of the Walt Disney movie, Mars Needs Moms, SocialMoms asks what I think my child would most miss about me if I was abducted by Martians. Okay. So Aliens land on our front lawn. Not a lot of room there, but still… Beannut and I are inside reading board books, . . . → Read More: Aliens! At night, she loves to sit with him in the rocking chair. She even nurses him on my breasts – first the left, then the right. She snuggles, him, hugs him, kisses him, and offers her paci. We call him fuzzy… fuzz for short. He’s been with her from the beginning. And then one day, just like that, . . . → Read More: Loveys: The Good, The Bad, And the Ugly Or, for that matter… hoods. She hates sweet potatoes and won’t let me give her medicine or supplements in any way shape or form (not even mixed in water); in fact, she won’t even drink water now that I’ve “poisoned” it once before. It’s imprinted. She’s like that. I can’t take her temperature. She screams. She insists on holding . . . → Read More: She Won’t Wear Hats Had I fed it to her back in the day. She might have eaten a small gopher. A maple tree, a tortoise shell … But then she turned one. And we night weaned (and are still …) And she decided to be one of those kids. Thing is, I grew up in an Italian-esque family. Not a right-off-the-boat . . . → Read More: She Might’ve Eaten Tar … You all know that I have been nursing every 2 hours for the past 11 months. This is not something I ever thought I would say. It’s not all been bliss, let me tell you. The sleep deprivation alone has transported me to places that probably even peyote couldn’t (not that I’ve ever tried it). So bear with . . . → Read More: Nursing Baby Gummy Bear I am going to be a first-time summer momma. This feels to me like the best thing on earth. The beannut is at a great age. She’s just under ten months and still not crawling (able to sit and play without me having to chase her or put her in some god-awful baby cage). Life is . . . → Read More: Summer Momma In my severely sleep-deprived haze, I’ve gotten used to this phrase. If she is in a particularly bad spell of separation anxiety, and throwing a fit, I’d mindlessly try to calm her by saying things like “Where’s the monkeys?” It’s not even grammatically correct, and I’m sure it’s not particularly great for her development to grow . . . → Read More: Where’s the Monkeys? They always say Da-Da first, don’t they? Really, they don’t know what it means, right? I mean, it’s just baby babble. It just sounds fun to say. I mean, cause, after all … I AM the one who pushed you, dear beannut, from unmentionable places and felt the worst pain … pain so bad, there has . . . → Read More: In the End … That’s how much the “beancreature” (as BeanPa has become accustomed to calling her) weighs. Wait. What?? That is pure, unadulterated BOOBY JUICE, people. My question is this: How did my BODY manage to produce TEN POUNDS OF MILK? Or maybe she’s been sneaking chocolate cake when I think she’s really in . . . → Read More: 18.2 After all I put myself through trying to find a name for this child, and after the birth certificate people nearly threatened me in the hospital, I finally came up with something. And, yeah, I like it. But I never use it. I don’t think I’ve once called her by her birth name. Instead, daily, the . . . → Read More: A Name |
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