Is a NannyMan Trouble?

Here's a question:

Would you let a man watch your baby?

Would it make a difference if he was related to you?

Would it make a difference if your baby was a boy or girl?

How about if your child was a toddler? Grade Schooler?

All day vs. a few hours?



I've been really struggling with this. With respect to equality of the sexes, I shouldn't have a problem with it, right? We, as women, have been struggling with the "glass ceiling," equal pay, and sexist remarks in the workplace, but when it comes to a man watching my baby, I get a little squeamish.

Since my mom had her knee replaced, we've been having my niece's boyfriend (29 yrs old), watch Lady Bug once a week. He's a waiter (not terribly motivated in life), and needs some extra money with the economy hitting his industry pretty hard right now.

He loves kids...wants to get married and have a truckload. Has made it clear to my niece that he'd love to be a stay-at-home dad. He is very sweet with LadyBug...but I always wonder if he's a little *too* sweet. Every week when I leave her with him, I get a little anxious and can't wait to get back home. She always seems happy and content when I return, and happy to see him each week.

Am I obsessing and not being fair?

Desperately Seeking Skinny

As mentioned afore, I work on a college campus. "Fashion" stares me in the face all day long. Right now, every single girl I see has the on "skinny jeans" with boots. Seeing as I'm desperately fighting the "mom look," I went and got me some skinny jeans.

I didn't really want to spend a caboodle of cash on skinny jeans that don't actually make me look skinny or look young enough to wear them. So, I laid out a whole $11 at JCPen.ney. It's true. They were on clearance and they're kinda cute...till you look around back. There's these big-azzzz, copper-colored brads in the shape of a breast cancer/aids ribbon. I figure I'll just cover that up with one of those cute long-ish cardigan thingy that are all the rage.

So I stuff my oversized self into my skinny-sized jeans and cram on some boots, and hey, what d'ya know, I look like a middle-aged mom desperately trying not to look like a middle-aged mom. Emphasis on the desperate. You see, there's more than the average muffin-top awaiting me at the top of my newly found skinny jeans. It's not even a bagel. More like a whole damn cake...oozing out. I try disguising it with the same sweater that's covering up the cheesy design on my jean pockets which doesn't really work....layers adds more girth.

My intern noticed my skinny jeans right away. "Those are so cute!" She squealed. I know as soon as I turned my back she was texting all her friends "OMG my boss has the CHEESIEST skinny jeans on EVER. And she's got a HUGE muffin top. ROTFL."

One of the AA's took one look at me and mentioned that all I needed was a Harley to make my outfit complete. Hmmmm. Not really what I was going for.

I'm thinking that these skinny jeans sure looked a whole lot better on me when they were all the rage in Jr. High. I should probably heed the sage advice that "if it was in fashion once before in your lifetime, you probably shouldn't wear it again." But I'll probably just get a bigger sweater.

Once More for Old Times Sake

I pee'd on a stick today. Somehow, someway, I had convinced myself that I was pregnant. After all that we went through to get LadyBug, I actually thought that I had managed to get knocked up all on my own. On one try. What have I been smoking??

Two weeks ago I noticed something that seemed an awful lot like EWCM. I had weaned Kate the prior month, and was expecting a period at some point. Then the slippery clear stuff. I got a little twinkle in my eye (hadn't I heard that you're most fertile after pregnancy?) and made some serious advances toward BigB. You could tell he was like, WTF, but obviously not confused enough to put up much of a fight.

Then of course all the symptoms started. Boobies a bit sore. Having to pee every two hours during the night, feeling a little queasy. I had done it! The unheard of was going to come true!
I was literally counting my projected due date, names for the new wee one, and the impending move we'd need to make with a fourth in the family. I went through the dreaded TWW, and pulled out a slightly dusty, but unexpired test from the depths of the bathroom cabinet. I waited till BigB had left for work, and then POAS with abandon and sat that little stick on my countertop and started the 60 second countdown.

No second line.

I checked that damn thing like twenty times. Even left it there and went back like an hour later, just in case it needed a little more time to read my pee correctly.

My fantasy ended up in the trash can, wrapped in paper towel to disguise my stupidity.

Being the infertile that I am, I've heard the story countless times. "As soon as you have a baby, your body will know what to do." Or, "my cousin's best friend's aunt couldn't get pregnant, and as soon as she had her first, she got pregnant on her own - didn't even plan it!" I fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. And, of course, to top it off, eight hours later my favorite aunt showed up. First time in a year and a half. Funny. I still hate that biatch.

I swore up and down that I would NOT go through the emotional roller coaster of years past. If we get pregnant again, we get pregnant again. No more monthly anticipation followed with tremendous crashes. Over and over and over again. Somehow I'm going to have to find a balance. Still "trying" without getting emotionally wrapped up in it all. I'll let ya know how that works out for me.

Just Being and Not Doing

BigB looked over at me tonight and said, "ya know, we've become that old couple."

We were sitting on the couch, just chillin' to some music and enjoying a little down time while LadyBug slept.

"What d'ya mean? That old couple?" I replied.

"You know. That old couple they always talk about. Where she's reading a magazine and showing him everything in it. That's what we're doing. You're reading that catalog, reading it to me, and showing me the pictures."

Its true. I was. It's a Friday night, I'm devouring the latest CrateNBarrell, and showing him practically every page. There's just so much cool stuff in there! We need it all, right? That super cool skillet that makes teeny little pancakes? That sweet mini bar? Those cute red dishes? Doesn't he want to see all this awesome stuff? I'm interested in it...shouldn't he? He is my "other half."

This is what our Friday nights have become. Hanging out with a home retailers magazine. At first glance it may seem a little sad. A little "old." But ya know, I LOVE it. Just doing nothing. Having no where to go. Nothing that has to get done.

Having a baby changes your free time. You crave it. You need it. Those few moments when you can just "be" and not "do." I never really understood it...I mean, how hard can parenting be? Ha. Endless entertaining, diapering, feeding, wailing, bathing. If the baby is awake, you're tending to her. If she's asleep, you're trying to get the kajillion other things done that you've put off: that pile of dishes, the laundry, brushing your teeth, showering.

And then comes the night. When she's finally asleep. The monitor makes no noise but a soothing buzz. Then it's my time. I'll sacrifice sweet sleep for a few hours of nothingness. By the time I have more than a few hours of alone time before bed, I'll have to wear readers and it'll be the latest edition of AARP.

I'm a Big Girl Now

New Year's Eve I wore a very low-cut dress. I had to squeeze myself into it. It was embarrassing. BigB had to help me zipper the thing up. BUT, lemme tell you, my girls looked GOOD. I felt more than a little self-conscious, but BigB was practically begging me to wear it while wiping up his drool with his sleeve.

We headed out for the evening. Our first stop for the evening was two window seats at a little swanky bar. The valet outside, I swear, was staring at my little ladies through the window. He unabashedly oogled his way not once, but three times past our window. Didn't matter that BigB could've thrown him to the ground and made him into a mincemeat pie.

The waiter walked by, looked down into the cleavage, and muttered some uninteligeable guttural sounds, similar to the dad in the Christmas Story as he watched his Christmas Turkey get devoured by the Bumpkis' dogs. Couldn't discern a word.

As we crossed the street to the restaurant, some very drunk college boy stopped my husband and asked, "is this your sister? cuz she looks really good." Again, BigB could have tromped the little sophomore with one hand tied behind his back, but this kid thought my chest worth the risk.

I was loving it. Almost made the six months of breastfeeding worth it. I felt pretty powerful and made me think about all the girls out there with a lifetime of huge melons and what they're able to manipulate. But alas, I did wean sweet LadyBug so I imagine this prowess is short lived. I didn't MEAN to wean her...it was supposed to be a gradual thing, but as soon as I stopped pumping at work it just completely dried up. Now it's just a matter of time before I'm back to my B's.

It's a New Year

Okay...so I have to keep my New Year's Resolution (to actually keep this blog going). So, here's a post. See! I can keep my resolution! The others are to exercise more and to say "no" to deserts. Those I sadly failed at already.

2009 was an awesome year. Really. I feel so blessed. Every day I'm amazed that God gave me this sweet little girl to love and care for. I'm still blown away that she's here. Having her has made me realize how fortunate I am. I have a job. I have a loving, caring husband. I'm healthy. My family is healthy. I have a home.

I'm looking forward to what 2010 will bring. I look forward to this new outlook on life - that it'll cast a faintly rose-colored hue...just enough to remind myself of all the good things life has to offer.

And, just so you can see for yourself, here's little Lady Bug herself. Showing off the sweet little smile that just makes my heart burst.

Last night me and Big B rang in the new year by dining at Serious Pie and then going to see the Seattle Symphony (Beethoven's 9th), with a little Salsa dancing afterward. It was the most fun we've had in a long time. Lady Bug stayed overnight with my parents, and I didn't worry a bit (her first time away from us overnight). It was the perfect start to the New Year.