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Baby Rabies

pregnancy & parenting

  • Start Here
    • About Baby Rabies
    • Baby Registry Top Picks
    • Favorite Pregnancy Apps
  • The Book
  • Pregnancy
    • Birth Stories
    • Perinatal Mood Disorders
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    • Babies
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    • Photography

      6 Stunning Photos You Would Never Guess Were…

      February 11, 2019

      Photography

      Simple Tips For Editing Snow Photos On Your…

      December 13, 2018

      Photography

      I Wrote A Photography eBook And This Is…

      December 6, 2018

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      Creative Lighting Ideas To Help You Take Great…

      November 27, 2018

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      Learn How To Take And Edit Photos On…

      November 19, 2018

  • Reviews
    • Reviews

      The Answer To Last Minute Holiday Gifting For…

      December 19, 2018

      Reviews

      I Was Never A Barbie Girl Until Now

      October 1, 2018

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      Finally! Jeans For My Jean-Averse Kids!

      August 22, 2018

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Chick Fil A

ParenthoodThe Story

“I’m such a mom.”

by Jill July 2, 2010
written by Jill

Ever find yourself doing or saying something or reacting a certain way that makes  you stop and think, “I’m such a MOM”?

This week I had the house to myself for a couple hours while Scott took Kendall for a long run and a trip to the park. I put on the Christina Aguilera Pandora station and got pumped to do a little house cleaning. It’s always so much more fun to sweep when old school N’ Sync and Britney comes on. As I cleaned the living room the song “Rude Boy” by Rhianna played over the speakers. I’ve heard it many times before. It’s alright. Not my favorite, but a good beat, I guess. Well, for the first time I actually really listened to the words (because they were blaring at level 50 over the surround sound) and OH MY GOODNESS I think my face turned six shades of red. Now, I’m not a particularly prudish person. I really don’t think I’m shocked easily, but the lyrics had me wanting to switch to the nearest easy listening station while I clutched my pearls and ran off to put on a conservative cardigan. “Kendall can NEVER listen to this song!” I thought to myself. I am such a mom.

Yesterday, as we were loading the car to take Kendall to Mother’s Day Out at 8:45 am, a car from a house on the end of our street peeled out of their driveway and sped down the road at at least 50 mph. I stood there and let my mouth hang open. I muttered things like “ridiculous!” and “totally uncalled for!” while shaking my hand in their general direction. This street, at nearly any given time of the day, has kids running up and down and ACROSS it, half the time never looking before they cross. This particular woman SHOULD KNOW THAT. She’s the mother of one of them. Ooooh, I was so pissed off. I seriously contemplated writing a bitchy letter requesting she not drive like a maniac and threatening to call the cops next time. THINK OF THE CHILDREN! I’m such a mom.

After I picked Kendall up at MDO yesterday I had to take him to Chick Fil A for ice cream. Why? Because he went the whole day in his big boy undies *almost* accident free! He only had a tiny little leak right before naptime that barely dampened his shorts. I figured that was celebration worthy. The teacher told me he hadn’t pooped for them all day. So as soon as we got there I made him go sit on the big potty. I proceeded to do this 2 more times while we were there over a 40 minute period (terrified he would shit in the playground tunnel). During one of the visits he started to pee, except it was sort of trickling out over the top of the toilet since… well, let’s just say with the way things are positioned around the chub down there, it, uh… points straight forward. (OMG, he might need therapy for me typing that someday.) Without thinking I reached over and tried to push it down, except somehow it ended up shooting up and out of the toilet in a perfect arc right onto my pants and shoes. Without flinching or screaming I reached over, grabbed a bunch of toilet paper cleaned myself and the floor off and we headed out to wash our hands. As I was eating my milkshake, I looked down and the still damp spot on my pants and realized it just didn’t bother me one bit that I was walking around in my son’s urine. I’m such a mom.

What about you? What are your “I’m such a mom” moments?

Kendall is 2 (and in big boy undies ALL day except naps and nighttime) and I’m 15 weeks pregnant.

Just a reminder that I was voted for Funniest and Blog I’ve Learned the Most From for the Social Luxe Blog Luxe awards (thanks for the nominations!!). I would LOVE your support and vote! You can vote until July 12th and once a day if you’d like. Click here to go to the voting page. Thank you!

July 2, 2010 14 comments
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The StoryToddlers

Out of the mouth of my babe

by Jill May 28, 2010
written by Jill

Kendall’s entered a new, magical phase. One where he chatters and talks in a language I can, most of the time, understand. It’s remarkable.

“Momma, read sounds,” means he wants me to read his book where I ask him what sound each picture makes.

“Momma, nigh night cookie,” means he wants me to lay my head on his stuffed Cookie Monster next to him while I try to get him to go to sleep.

Bedtime is when his language really comes alive. He’s a fantastic story teller (I’m told he gets this from his mother), and recounts the entirety  of his day to me while laying there in bed in the dark, me with my neck cocked at an awkward angle so that I can lay my head on his Cookie Monster next to him. All I have to do is ask, “what did you do today?” and his brain starts firing and his mouth starts sputtering all the events of the day.

Admittedly, he always talks about the shows he watched that day because, I’m not going to lie, there is a lot of TV watching going on in this house right now. I like that he talks like he was a part of them, though, many times saying things like, “Go go get momma fof, watch out rocks!”  That, roughly translated, means he helped Diego rescue the mommy sloth from the rocks, I think. I must add that he always punctuates his descriptions of adventures with Diego with a hearty fist thrown in the air.

He then talks about the big things, like going to the pool, and little things, like eating a pear for snack at 10 that morning.

A lot of times it takes me a minute to figure out what he’s talking about because the detail seems so minute, and I actually have forgotten by 8 at night that he saw a bug on the front porch that morning.  It’s crazy what kids will focus on, what they will take away from the bigger picture.

My favorite night time conversation, so far, has got to be the one I had with him last week after a day when I took him to Chick Fil A for lunch. While we were there, I let him go play in the enclosed play area while I sat on the other side of the glass, kept an eye on him, finished my sandwich and quickly checked my email (it was right after I launched the #helpSam fundraiser). I looked up from my phone to see what he was doing to find him and another little boy on the floor. The other boy was crying, so I walked in, asked Kendall what happened, was met with expected blank stare, then told Kendall to tell the boy he was sorry and give him a hug. I really had no idea what happened and figured they probably just ran into each other, but I also knew there was a possibility that Kendall pushed him since that seems to be something he’s trying out these days. I very sternly reminded him we don’t push, and stayed inside the play area the rest of the time we were there, subjecting myself to the awful stench of toddler shoes, rubber floors and cleaning solution.

Later that night, during our bedtime breakdown of the day, Kendall recounted the following:

“Bok bok! Yum..” (Chicken was yummy)

“Play, slide.”

“Push, baby, cry.”

I interjected, “Kendall? You pushed the baby?”

“Baby cry. No, no. No push. Sowwy.”

I was so taken aback by his honesty. I, of course, told him pushing was bad, but I also praised him for telling the truth and for telling the baby he was sorry. It was one of those weird parenting moments where I had no idea how to react, but I felt incredible pressure to act the correct way because this seemed like a really important little lesson he was learning, right in front of my very eyes.

We went back to Chick Fil A for breakfast yesterday (I told you all already that I grow my babies on CFA). The whole time on the way there he kept repeating, “No push. No, no, no. I no push.” And he didn’t. I watched him like a hawk and he played very sweetly.

While he ran around the play area, jumping and swinging and sliding, it occurred to me that he is much closer to independence and childhood than the infancy he left behind. He’s learning lessons, he’s telling stories, and before I know it I’m going to have a full fledged little kid on my hands, one who asks questions and teaches *me* things. I can’t help but wonder how big he’s going to seem when we come home with the new baby in 7 months, how much he’ll have grown and learned by then, and how much that will be magnified by the tiny, helpless newborn.

Kendall is 2 years old/ I’m 10 weeks pregnant

May 28, 2010 18 comments
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PregnancyThe StoryTrying to Conceive

I’m running out of excuses

by Jill September 29, 2009
written by Jill

First I told him that I was too tired to even think about it, that I wouldn’t even consider it until Kendall was sleeping through the night. Then he did.

Then I said I wanted my breasts back to myself for a little bit. I didn’t want to share them with any babies, and I didn’t want them blowing up again for a while. They’ve been all mine for over three months.

Then I said that I wanted to train for and run another marathon first. The race is November 15th.

I also told Scott that I absolutely could not consider getting pregnant again with the closest Chick-fil-A being so far away. “You know I NEED Chick-fil-A to grow a baby!” I just drove past an almost finished building less than 5 miles from our house with a “Coming Soon” sign posted next to Chick-fil-A sign.

Shit.

Kendall is 3 days shy of 17 months old.

September 29, 2009 15 comments
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PregnancyThe Story

The end is near…

by Jill April 13, 2008
written by Jill

Wow. The end of 37 effing weeks! I can’t believe it. I’m “full term”…whatever that means. It’s actually kind of cruel to tell a woman she is “full term”. It makes it seem like there is some sort of concrete finality to everything in the very near future, but, in reality, I still don’t know if I’ll be pregnant for another day or another 4 weeks. Trust me. I’m not ready. I may be physically ready, but I am not ready ready. That nesting thing that I thought was happening to me….well, apparently that only applied to my odd desire to paint our room a pretty color 2 months before we move out. I still don’t have my bag packed, need to take a breastfeeding class (and yes, I NEED a class. I have no idea how to shoot milk out of my breasts into an infant’s mouth in an efficient enough manner to sustain life), and I have tons of stuff to buy still. I have a feeling we will live at Babies R Us the first couple weeks.

However, despite my hesitations, there is no denying that this kid is making his debut sooner rather than later. I have to hope that he breaks free from the cord before he gets to 10 lbs. We’ve been told at our last few appointments and ultrasounds that he’s “really big”. Great. I’ve grown a ogre. I blame you, Chick Fil A! If I find out there are unapproved growth hormones in your chicken nuggets, I’m coming after you for damages!!

37 weeks 6 days

April 13, 2008 1 comment
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