Wanna Make Out?

I love making out.  I’m not going to sugar coat it…it is one of my favorite past times.  I just love that sensation when a simple slow peck turns into hours and hours of lip locking.  Just close your eyes and take yourself back to high school when making out should have been listed as one of the many clubs in the yearbook.  Whether it was in the middle of a party, dark parking lots in the backseat of the car, or your basement, making out was fun, the prominent part of your “sex life” and a hot topic on Monday mornings.  Then came college.  The make out sessions were more intense but they still happened.  A lot of time these sessions happened in a dark, dirty college house while the music pumped and people did keg stands in the corner but they were wonderful all the same.  Well here is my question…what ever happened to the serious make out?

Yes, I am married, have a child, and love to have sex but that doesn’t mean that sometimes  I don’t want to just make out.  What do guys think, once they get it in, there are no more strictly make out sessions?   Just because sex is on the table, it doesn’t mean that sex is an every hook up event.  Why can’t we just make out sometimes?   I’ve asked several of my girlfriends and my sisters about whether or not they still have serious make out sessions or if most of their love life consists of the serious S.  Their responses were expected but disappointing.  I can recall a day where my husband and I made out on almost every corner, side walk, field, and living room around my college campus.  Maybe hands wandered a little but mainly, it was serious making out.  Don’t get me wrong ladies, he definitely hit home runs when we got back to the bedroom but those make out sessions were pure perfection for me and some of my favorite memories of our early dating days.  Yes, we’ve been together for years and yes we’ve graduated and grown from out virginal make-out days but this mama still craves a spit swap here and there.  So, before you think I’m crazy or wonder where I come up with these thoughts, listen to my latest query.

This actually happened in my house the other night and this is what sparked my make out mania.  The evening was late (ok, it was 9pm but that’s late for this working mom on a Tuesday)  The baby was in bed, the kitchen was clean, the babysitter bag was packed, my work was complete, and my husband and I decided to treat ourselves to a glass of wine for me and a beer for him.  After a few swigs, I walked over to my husband who was sitting on the couch, and slowly, sensually, kissed him.  That quick taste of beer and tongue brought me back to our college rendezvous and I was hooked.  I was ready to make out with him for hours.  We started to make out for a minute or so but I wasn’t trying to take it any further.  I really just wanted to make out with him.  Right when I thought he was feeling the same way, he stopped me.  “Babe, is this going to lead to anything because I really don’t feel like just making out right now.”  WHAT??  Excuse me??  Did this just seriously happen?  If it’s not going in, we’re not making out?  I was just loving life.  I couldn’t believe it.  As I stared at him, it was very clear that I couldn’t believe what he  just said to me.  Was he not going to “waste his time” making out if nothing more was happening?  He laughed, gave me a quick kiss, took another swig of beer and then focused back on the golf channel.  It was very obvious that he was serious and thought it was funny that I took it so personally. 

This got me thinking.  Once you get in a serious relationship, whether its marriage or just a relationship commitment, does the making out end?  My sister told me she sometimes begs her bf to make out in bars but he says no, let’s wait until we get home.  One of my best friends told me she can’t remember the last time she JUST made out with fiancé.  Well ladies, this has to end.  I want to bring back the make out.  Just because we’re not in high school or college any more doesn’t mean we can’t have a hot and steamy make out sess once in a while.  My husband is gonna get it and he doesn’t even know it (until he reads this!)  Here’s to lip locking and nothing more.  At least for one night, a girls got needs too.   

Aunt-isms

Brody is destined to be a ladies man.  Not only is he already "ridiculously good-looking" but he is surrounded by women who love him, spoil him, and show him much attention.  Of course, I am and always will be the number one woman in his life (future girlfriends beware!) but his aunts are pretty important too.  He has aunts that come from being my sisters, my husbands sister, or my cousins.  He also has aunts that gain this special title because they are my best friends.  Every Aunt has a special but different relationship with Brody.  He has an aunt who is a mommy of 2 kids and is there to answer any baby question I might have.  He has an aunt who is in college but comes home every few weekends to see her precious nephew.  He also has a few aunts that don't quite understand why he can't cooperate during movie day.  Let's call these aunts "S" and "T."

Before I continue, let me briefly describe the relationship I have with my cousins.  I grew up with cousins who were more like sibilings than family that we saw mainly on holidays or birthdays.  Between my mom and her two sisters, there were 5 girls and 2 boys.  I have many more cousins but these were the ones I spent most of my time with growing up.  We LITERALLY did everything together.  We all went to a private, Catholic, elementary school and either my mom or one of my aunts drove us and picked us up from school every day.  We would then all go back to one house, do homework, eat, play, etc.  Most weekends were spent together, every vacation was spent together, and so these cousins became so close, they were like extra sisters and brothers.  Going forward, us girls (all close in age) became best friends as well as relatives.  I think this is a very special relationship and one that I don't take advantage of.  I know that not everyone grew up in a 5 mile radius of their family and for this, I am very lucky. 

Fast forward several years and here I am, a working woman, married, and now have a baby.  My sisters and cousins aren't quite at the same place in their lives.  The college girls don't count (we don't want them to have babies right now!) but the other two...I am constantly begging them to get boyfriends and have babies so all of our kids can grow up the way we did.  They aren't quite ready.  I know we all have a different life time line, but seriously, is Brody going to be the lone ranger at recess??  Come on ladies, Brody needs to have the posse I had  His aunts love spending time with him, playing with him, and kissing on him but after a crazy Saturday night full of adult beverages, Brody isn't their number one choice of people to hang with.

Brody and I decided to surprise my two fav two-somethings on a Sunday.  We wanted to lounge, eat snacks, watch a movie, and have a nice little day.  When I got there, they both looked like death.  Hair was everywhere, black eye make-up covered their faces, and they were laying in mismatching sweats.  I've looked like that many times myself so I knew the night before must of been fun.  They gave me the details of their night out and then, the "aunt-isms" began.  First auntism of the day..."ugh, it must suck to have a baby when you're hungover, I can barely take care of myself right now."  I explained that yes, being hungover and having  a human that depends fully on you does suck, that is why serious business drunkeness dies down a little after baby!  We went down to the basement to watch the movie "Life as we know it."  I had wanted to see it and was excited to actually sit down and watch a movie (it doesn't happen too often in our house these days.)

We start the movie and Brody starts screaming...he's hungry.  We pause the movie so I can go get his bottle.  The movie continues and Brody is fine because he's eating.  Once the bottle is done, Brody has a massive blow out.  We pause the movie so I can get his diaper bag and change him.  My hungover sweeties are gagging at the smell of the diaper.  "I might vomit..."  "No seriously, I'm going to get sick, hurry up."  This continues as I wipe a smiling baby and clean up the crap.  The movie continues and Brody starts fussing.  He is tired but being my son, he's nosey and doesn't want to go to sleep because he's afraid he'll miss something.  "Why is he screaming??"  I explain to them that he's tired but he's fighting a nap.  His aunts can't believe it..."Who would ever fight taking a nap?"  "I would fight someone to take a nap right now."  Finally, Brody falls asleep and we continue the movie.  With all of the pauses, stops, snacks, and diapers, it took us about four hours to watch the movie.  The aunts..."Brody sucks at watching movies."

I know S and T love Brody immensely and would do anything for him but I'm guessing he's not invited back to watch a movie any time soon.  I'm also guessing his not getting a cousin from my side of the family any time soon!

You Boys Like Mexico?!?!

Just a quick update on my new clicker countdown.  When I was pregnant, I was already planning on a special little get away for just me and the hubby.  As you can probably tell, I'm not a "stay home every night and do nothing" kind of girl and I knew that once we had our beautiful Brody (yes, boys can be beautiful when they're babys) we were going to need a hot get away.  I am a serious advocate on making sure our relationship stays strong and hot even when we're parents and already had the wheels turning in my head when my belly was growing.  We were going to need an erotic mini vacation that included lots of alone time and sexy sun tans.

Through the cold winter months of pregnancy and then the blistering summer days of SERIOUS pregnancy,  we couldn't really go on a vacation because not only was I trying to save my vacation days, but I also looked like a beached whale and it was too hot for my pregnant self to hang on the sand all day.  We would talk about how we couldn't wait to go somewhere together once the baby got here.  We would watch movies that focused on white sand and light blue waters and daydream of the days when we could be there.  The thing is, I knew the day would come when our son would be born, our life would completley change, and so would my husbands thoughts.  Our bills would explode with diapers, formula, baby necessities, baby sitter fees, and my husband would say..."babe, we just can't afford a trip right now." 

I know my husband very well and of course, almost that exact sentence was stated when I brought up the idea of us going on a trip.  The thing is, I outsmarted the husband.  Throughout my pregnancy, I would stash money away after I got paid every two weeks or so.  Fifty dollars here, one hundred dollars there.  My husband knew the money was going somewhere and I was taking it, he just wasn't sure where exactly.  Maybe I was really hungry that week or maybe, my massive boobs were outgrowing my bras, again.  At that point, he didn't dare to ask.  Well, here we are 10 months or pregnancy and almost 5 months of Brody later with a nice little vaca getaway stash.  We wanted to go somewhere warm, not crazy expensive, but a nice resort where we could literally do nothing while we were there.  Our very good friends John and Lindsey had a son almost exactly two months after we had Brody and they were interested in a "new parents getaway" as well.  So, we did some research and found a great deal at a beautiful resort in Mexico.  It just so happens we have some friends who stayed at this resort last year and said it was amazing. 

So...the countdown begins.  I am already bracing myself for the seperation anxiety I will have from leaving my little angel but I am hoping that the several tequila sunrises I will consume will help subdue the sadness.  In less than one month, we will be on the beaches of Mexico with great friends, enjoying sun, sand, a cocktail and a full nights sleep =)

The New Sunday Funday

Sunday Funday.  To my sisters and cousins this means a day where you wake up (probably hung over), find a fun restaurant or bar, and indulge in greasy foods and more drinks to make the head ache go away and the fun continue.  The day usually continues with hours on the couch, watching movies, eating more, and eventually, showering.  This used to be the Sunday Funday my husband and I enjoyed.  We had a life of no responsibility and no sense of time.  It didn't matter if you would feel horrible at work on Monday, you could come home and veg and go to bed early.  Sunday Funday with Brody is a little different.  This made me think,  does domestication and babies mean that you can’t have your own version of Sunday Funday?  I don’t think so.

Our Sunday started off with a surprise visitor in our bed.  Brody woke up around 6:00am but wasn’t full ready to get up yet so my husband brought him in our room where the three of us snuggled and dozed in and out for another two hours.  We finally woke up around 8 (this is practically sleeping in) and went downstairs for play time and breakfast.  We were meeting friends in Baltimore for brunch around noon so after coffee, we went to get dressed and ready to go.  Brody loves brunch, happy hour, anything involving food and a cocktail or two.  Yes, we ate omelets and had mimosas but now the drinks aren’t sipped solely to erase the hangover headaches.  On our way home, we stopped at the Under Armor outlet to pick up some new running pants for me and a pair of golf shorts for the hubby.  Brody likes to browse but he’s still too little for this label.  Now, we’re home and my boys are lounging on the couch watching golf as I sip another mimosa.  Who said having kids brings your life to a standstill?

I have a client who, through my entire pregnancy, would tell me how my life is now over and forget the fun, the girls nights out and the date nights with my husband.  This man has four children.  Sometimes he scared me but other times I thought, that isn’t going to be my life.  I began to think it was sad how negative he sounded.  Of course I knew my life was going to change, but there are more smiles than tears with this change.

  Let’s get serious…I am not the mom who could just forget that there is an outside world or who consumes all conversation with bottle babble.  Yes, I love my son and yes, things have changed but that doesn’t mean the fun is over.   A new fun is just starting.   Maybe my Sunday Funday didn’t start off with a hangover but it did include a cocktail or two, a good meal, some me time, and the company of two extremely good looking men.  Not too shabby. 

Bad Hair Day

I have always had a serious obsession with my hair.  When I was in the first grade, I begged my mom to let me get the “big 80’s” bangs.  She said no because she didn’t want to have to deal with them every morning.  I promised her that she wouldn’t have to do anything to my hair and continued to nag and plead until she gave in.  My long, straight hair added a puffy, big band and I loved them.  I learned how to use the curling iron at age 6 and every morning, I would do my bangs (some days several times until they were just right).  This went on for years and then I eventually grew them out but my hair obsession never went away.  I changed colors from brown, to highlighted brown, to blonde (bad idea) back to highlighted brown, and now finally back to my dark, natural brown.  Regardless of the color, I have always been picky and meticulous about how my hair looks.  I can spend hours blow drying, flat ironing, making long thick waves, and making sure the look is just right.  I truly believe that a good hair day can over shadow a bad outfit or a “fat face” day.  With good hair, you’ll have a good day.

After three wonderful months staying home after the baby was born, it was time to go back to work.  Brody and I had an understanding.  If he wanted to continue to eat the nummies (formula), stay clean and dry in his diapers, live in a nice house, and chill in designer clothes all day, Mommy was going to have to work.  He knew that I would rather stay home with him all day and play, sing songs, and take long walks but Mommy had to make that money honey.  In order for me to go to work, he was going to have to cooperate in the mornings since Daddy left early and it was just the two of us.  Usually, he keeps up his end of the bargain.  He usually wakes up between 6:30-7:00 (sometimes later if he’s feeling really nice), then he’ll get on my bed, play with his toys and on his boppy, and smile and laugh while I transfer into business woman and do my make-up, hair, and slip into pencil skirts, blouses, and hot textured tights.  We’ll have a conversation, sing, smile, and sip coffee.  He’s usually pretty perfect in the morning…usually.

  He knows that morning time = mommy isn’t holding me until we go downstairs.  He is usually content with this.  For some reason, he wanted to be held this morning and nothing was stopping the screams.  I wanted to try and let him cry it out (it probably won’t last long) I think.  I was wrong.  I am throwing blush on my cheeks and mascara on my lashes and he lashes out and is throwing his body around the bed.  I stopped playing tough love and picked him up and hung him on my hip as I tried to continue getting myself together.  My right eye was a little clumpy because I had a baby on the hip as I threw the dark black goodness on my eye.  I tried to blow-dry.  I put Brody back on the bed.  He wasn’t feeling it.  After 45 minutes of this I gave up… I threw on some seriously sparkly Swarovski earings hoping this would mask my horrible hair day.  I already saw the frizz.  I tried to throw some mouse on it…didn’t help.  My newly cut side swoop bang had a funky flip, my head was half dry, half wet.  This was going to be a great day!

I walked into the babysitters house and after I got everything situated, she smiled and said, “Your hair is wet today.”  I love her but knew this was code for “Your hair looks like shit today.”  I continued to tell her about our horrible morning and how my hair was going to be a hot mess by the end of the day.  We laughed, but this was serious business in my book.  Later that afternoon I met up with one of the guys I work with.  Here were the first two things he said to me… “Wow, those earrings are sparkly” and then “What’s up with your hair today?”  He should have never opened his mouth  “Oh let me tell you what’s up with my hair today…my son is what’s up with my hair today…” I get on my soapbox and then I’m gone.  I am going off on a tangent and there is no stopping me.  He probably thought to himself, “I should have kept my mouth shut.”    After I stopped in every bathroom that day to try and slick the frizz that was growing from the side of my head back, I gave up and threw the whole thing in a pony tail.  I also made a vow to always keep bobby pins in my purse. 

This was more proof to me of how much a bad hair day can affect my mood and day.  Yes, I am a little crazy when it comes to my hair but hey, who doesn’t have their own little idiosyncrasies?  I hope Brody re-commits himself to our morning agreement because this hair can’t handle another bad day.

Hot Mama

I've always believed this statement to be true...sexiness is about confidence.  If you feel hot and sexy, chances are that other people/men feel the same way about you.  Having a baby really puts a damper on the "sexy" feeling.  Let's not even talk about this new body that is not as tight or firm as your old body...I'm talking more about the day to day.  There is a good chance you smell like spit-up but don't realize it (not sexy).  You might find yourself talking baby talk in adult conversations (not sexy).  You are constantly tired or talking about being tired (not sexy). 

Over the last few weeks I've been thinking...if I don't feel sexy, how in the world is my husband supposed to find me extremely sexy?  Of course he loves me, thinks I'm beautiful, and wants to have sex with me.  But does he want to tear my clothes off and do dirty things to me the minute he walks in the door because I'm exuding sex appeal?  Not so sure.  I decided it was time to peel away this comfort feeling and really up the sexiness in my relationship post baby.  Our son is now 4 and a half months old.  My time to feel frumpy is over..bring on the hot sex!

What better time to really turn my game on then the big Valentines holiday.  For those of you who don't really know me, I'm not a crazy Valentines girl.  It's not a huge deal to me and my husband and I have never made it a huge deal in our relationship.  Yes, there are cards and flowers but never a huge deal.  This year, I wanted to turn up the heat a little and have a romantic night, sans baby, to really show him how much I appreciate the wonderful husband and father he is.  In this area, as in many others, it helps to be a girl.  If my husband was really trying to impress me, there would have to be some sort of bling, a designer bag, or something along those expensive lines.  For us girls, we just  need to show a little skin and the guys are drooling.  I decided I was going to surprise him when he got home from work on Friday night.  He was going to come home to a home made meal, dessert, drinks, and a wife serving all of this in a hot outfit that left little to the imagination.  The plan was to make an italian dish for the main course and then red velvet cupcakes (his fav) for dessert.  Originally, I planned to make the cupcakes from scratch.  Then I thought...let's be realistic.  Is my husband really going to care if these cupcakes are made from scratch if I present them wearing a thong and thigh highs?  I don't think so.  I opted for the box cake mix version.
 
Friday came and my mom picked up the baby after work and then I quickly got moving.  I'm not going to lie, wasn't really too concerned with the food at this "dinner."  The purpose of this night was me, all done up, ready to have some fun and bring sexy back.  Earlier that day I had gone to get a spray tan.  I truly believe that EVERYONE looks better a little tan.  I'm not talking a crazy orange color, just a pretty, natural bronze.  I later touched up the cleavage with a sparkle bare minerals bronzer to really bring the color out and look like I just stepped off the beach.  I spent the rest of my time applying dark smoky eyes, doing my hair, and shaving/waxing my entire body.  I put on a "pre-game" cd that I found from college to get me pumped up.  I wanted to feel hot and let me tell you, I did. 

I had the table set, the music on, candles lit, and was ready to serve dinner in my hot outfit.  When my husband walked in the door, I was standing in the living room, wearing a hot little number including but not limited to stilletoes and lace thigh highs, and sipping champagne.  He looked at me with a "are you serious" look and then I walked toward him, trying to explain that I had dinner for us and was going to serve him but I didn't really get that far.  He reacted just how I wanted him to.  Dessert came before the main course and it was delicious.  There wasn't just sex (there's been plenty of that) there was serious sexy sex.  Eventually we ate dinner and cupcakes (which he thought were very tasty), relaxed, had some more steamy dessert.

Maybe it was the outfit.  Maybe it was the way I felt.  Maybe it was the music (an LC remix), reminding me of our college hook ups.  Regardless, this mom feels hot and sexy again and all it took was a little lace and a feeling. 

My New BFF

Being the oldest of three girls, there are many things my sisters and I have in common physically and personally.  We are all about the same height, have brown hair (even though Katie and I toyed with blonde on and off), light eyes, and matching tatoos.  There is, however, one major physical trait that both of my little sisters have that I only dreamed of...big boobs.  Their party dresses always looked a little better on their chests and their bras were always a little (ok a lot) bigger.  I have been jealous of this accesory for years.  Well...after years of yearning, Brody came into my life and brought me immense happiness...he also brought me boobs.

Throughout my pregnancy  my boobs grew.  At first, I thought it was fun but when the belly is growing along side the breasts, it's hard to really see the affect.  After 9 (10) months of pregnancy, my son was finally here, I was looking forward to bonding with him and breastfeeding.  My milk didn't come in right away so we bottle fed him for the first few days.  We left the hospital on a Monday morning and the nurses and doctors assured me that my milk would come in within the next few days.  After our first night home alone with our baby, I woke up Tuesday morning and and walked into the bathroom.  The minute I turned on the lights and looked at myself in the mirror, I smiled.  WOW.  I had large, hard, full, breasts.  It was like a miracle.  They looked amazing.  I walked out of the bathroom and over to my husbands side of the bed.  "Babe, I think my milk came in." I whispered shaking him awake.  He opened his sleepy eyes and when he caught sight of the twins, the once sleepy eyes opened wide.  "Yeah it sure did," he said with a smirk.  There we were, both staring at them, touching them, and smiling like it was Christmas morning.  Then we heard a noise and looked over at Brody...oh yeah.  The reason I have these glorious things now is to feed our child. 

I spent three beautiful months feeding my son and loving my breasts.  I didn't care that they would occasionally leak, they were perfect.  I wore every v-neck shirt I owned.  I would flaunt them in front of my sisters because at the moment, they had nothing on me.  Unfortunatley, all good things must come to an end.  When I went back to work, I couldn't keep up with pumping enough so I had to stop breastfeeding.  I cried.  I convinced myself that I was crying soley over the fact that I wasn't ready to start bottle feeding Brody but let's be honest...I was going to miss my girls.

Now that I had tasted what it felt like to have boobs, I was addicted, I couldn't stop thinking about them.  What could I do?  How could I get them back without surgery and thousands of dollars?  One Saturday afternoon Brody and I decided to take a field trip to the mall to figure something out.  Mommy needed a little pick me up to get through this craving.  I pretended it was like any other trip to the mall.  We went and got a latte, I skimmed some stores for a new work blazer, and browsed Baby Gap.  Then, when I had convinced myself that this was a typical trip to the mall, we turned the corner to the real reason we were there.  We strolled into Victoria's Secret and decided to take a look around.  One of the saleswomen came up and asked to help.  Usually, I hate this.  I would prefer to look myself, make my picks, and do my bra shopping in private but this was different.  "I'm looking for a push-up bra but I don't want a lot of padding," I say, and continue looking around like it's not a big deal.  She showed me to the extra large dressing room and told me she would bring some options.  A few minutes later, I had a box full of push up bras in every different color and style.  The first few were ok, helped a little but didn't really do it for me.  I went through most of the box not satisfied until I saw the final black bra.  This one was different.  It was silky and smooth and definitley had padding.  I grabbed it, snapped the back, and in that single second, my boobs were back.  There they were, huge, high, and smiling at me like they missed me as much as I missed them.  Yes, there was enough padding in that bra to stuff pillows for an entire hotel, but I didn't care...I needed it.  When I walked out of the dressing room, the saleswoman asked which ones I liked and I showed her.  She looked at me and laughed "I thought you didn't want a lot of padding?!"   "Oh, this is just for fun, I'm getting some other ones for every day."  I knew it was a lie but I couldn't admitt it out loud.

That was the best $55.00 I've ever spent.  I love that bra.  People might say that it's stupid because the minute it comes off, the real deal is revealed.  Let me tell you, I don't care!  My husband can have his fun staring at me with a low cut shirt on as I bend down to pick up toys or change diapers.  One day, when the big bucks roll in and the baby(s) are grown, I'll get a permanent push up but until then, Vickie will be my new best friend.  I'll see you soon for swimsuit season friend =)  

Hello World!

Well hello blogging world, it's about time we've met!  I've been missing my creative writing outlet and don't know why I didn't start this sooner.  Let's get to know each other on a personal, fun level as I explore this crazy, fun new life as a working mom, wife, and twenty something woman.

When I say I've missed writing, it's because I used to think that writing would be my career.  Throughout college I worked on the school paper, studied communications and journalism, and dreamed of a life where I worked at a magazine and saw my name in print.  Well...real life happened.  I fell in love, got married, and found myself in a different job (account management and sales for a coffee company) that I have grown to love.  My husband and I had three wonderful years of marriage living a life of dates, drinks, and fun.  We tried city life for about a year, bought a house in the suburbs soon after, and then when we weren't expecting anything new...that little pee stick found it's way into our house with a "pregnant" print out.  We were thrilled, excited, and scared out of our minds.

I'm not going to lie, I was not that, "I love pregnancy" kind of woman.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't have a bad pregnancy.  Yes, the first 12 weeks found me nauseous on and off but once that first trimester was over, life was pretty pleasant.  I loved my new pregnancy boobs but wasn't thrilled with the big belly that accompanied them.  I worked my way through one of the hottest summers in history living off smoothies, water, and flowy sundresses.  Two long weeks after our first born was supposed to grace us with his presence, an induction was scheduled.  We checked into the hospital at 2:00pm on a Thursday and finally met our son at 9:34pm on Friday.  We went through hours and hours of labor.  There were times when the word epidural was not allowed in my vocabulary.  There was back labor so horrific that I was speaking jibberish for about two hours.  Three fun filled hours of pushing happened and still, no baby in sight.  FINALLY, we decided this wasn't going to happen so I was wheeled into the delivery room to get a c-section.  At that point, I didn't care what happened, just get this baby out of me!  The drugs were pumping through my body, I was so swollen and sick from the massive amounts of pitocin I had had, and I was freezing cold.  All I really remember was the doctor finally telling me I had a son and all I was able to say was..."Is he cute?"  My husbands answer..."Yeah, he actually is."  Brody was and still is, the best looking baby we've ever layed eyes on.

As most new, clueless parents, my husband and I got through the first few weeks on little sleep.  Eventually, we got our little system and routine down and I thought..."this isn't too hard."  I was still home on maternity leave so if the baby had a bad night, we would nap together the next day.  I would try to pick up the house when he would nap, sometimes start dinner, and relax during the day.  This didn't last for long and before I knew it, 12 weeks had come and gone and it was time to go back to work. 

Now, here I am, trying to figure out this crazy, new life.  Getting out the door takes a lot longer with a little one in toe.  I can't just roll out of bed, I actually have to do my hair, make-up, and put on cute clothes.  Let's add in the diaper bag, bottles, outfits, bibs, and everything else a 4 month old needs for a day at the babysitter.  I'm trying to stay the sexy twenty something I used to be but still wear a "trendy" mom hat and wear it well.  Just because I have car seat, diaper bad, and pediatrician on speed dial doesn't mean I can't be hot, have a great sex life, or have girls night, does it?  It's a new day and age and I think that means a new style of mom.  Here's to me working on the career, relationship, cocktails, and raising my beautiful baby boy.