Happy Birthday, Doug!

Today is The Boss Lady's big birthday extravaganza! Okay, well, if you call hamburgers, hot dogs, and an assortment of chips an "extravaganza" anyway. I'm up early to finish getting prepped for the party and I feel like a kid at Christmas. I've had so much fun planning this shindig. I actually FINISHED the scrapbook for her first year! I'm friggin' superwoman over here!

Today has some other significance as well. It was exactly this day last year that we brought our sweet girl home. Boy, were we clueless! I was so excited to get out of that hospital. That morning, I woke up and starting packing our bags. The nursery got Olivia all dressed in her going-home outfit. We held her, stared at her beautiful face, and marveled at how we made the most incredible little person. Slowly and carefully, we lifted her into her carseat carrier. And then she started screeching. For 2 hours. I refused to leave. I refused to be the woman walking down the hallway with a screeching baby! But eventually she settled down and we headed home only to find out that that screeching fit was only a preview of what was to come!

Unfortunately, this significance of this day is tinged with a little sadness too. Today is my father-in-law, Doug's birthday. I haven't mentioned Doug very often here but it's not because he hasn't played an important role in my life. The fact is, I never got to meet Doug Milligan. When I met Mike, Doug had been dead for about 6 months. At that time, Mike was just in the beginning stages of grief over losing the man who was his best friend. In fact, watching Mike go through that convinced me that I would love him forever. Each time he revealed his pain to me, I literally felt that pain. How could I not spend forever with someone whose pain had become my own?

Doug was killed in a tragic car accident on July 24, 2004. He and my mother-in-law, Margaret, had just been here visiting Mike and his brother, Matt, and they were driving back home to Albuquerque. Just outside of town, a man who was intoxicated and on other drugs swerved into their lane, hitting them head on. Margaret was the only survivor of this accident.

I don't share these details to make this post even more sad. I share them because they are the circumstances which robbed my husband, mother-in-law, brother- and sister-in-law, and countless others of a man they loved and had plans of a future with. They are the circumstances which robbed me and my daughter of ever getting to know a man whom I have never heard a bad word about.

Though I did not get to know Doug in person, I feel I do know who he was. He was kind and patient. He was easy going but was known to have quite the meltdown when his fuse finally burned down! He had a big booming voice and a wonderful laugh. He worked hard everyday of his life. He served in the Vietnam war and saved countless lives in doing so. He was warm and funny and loving. He was an amazing husband to Margaret. He was an incredible dad to Mike and his brother, Matt.

I've been able to know Doug through his family. I've gotten to know him in getting to know my husband and Matt. As far as I can tell, they each inherited parts of his personality. Mike is easy going but has a sensitive heart. And he's Doug's mini-me much as Oli is Mike's. Matt is the practical joker, always smiling and willing to do whatever.

In the past year, I've gotten to know Doug even more by watching his son be a dad himself. Doug set the bar high for fatherhood and Mike has taken everything he received from Doug and he gives it to Olivia.

My daugher won't know the amazing Doug Milligan in person. But she'll know him through Mike, through Matt, through Margaret, and through the countless friends and family members who keep his memory alive. She'll get to know that he would have loved spending time with her and getting to know her and that he will always be with her in spirit.

I wish I could have known this amazing man who touched so many lives. I wish I could thank him for teaching Mike what it means to be a husband and a dad. I know he would be so proud of his son for giving his whole heart to both. I am indebted to Doug for the amazing man I get to spend my life with.

I know that Doug believed in really living life and being in the moment. Today, we won't sit around and mourn that he isn't here to blow out the candles on his birthday cake. We'll celebrate Oli's first birthday and know that Doug is watching and cheering us on.

Happy Happy Birthday, Doug.

The Village People and the Birthday

"It takes a village to raise a child."

These are the words of wisdom told to me by my friend Christina just after I had Olivia. "Oh, yes," I agreed, nodding my head vigorously. Of course it takes a village. I indicated I knew exactly what she meant. I didn't really have a clue though. How could I have understood that expression since I hadn't ever seen myself as a villager. I always thought of myself as more of a Deserted Islander type. My moto in life was "If you don't take care of yourself, no one else will." I didn't need a village to help raise my child. I just needed to pull it together.

Yet something in me knew there was a reason that the saying wasn't "Babies are best kept on deserted islands." Yes, some part of me knew that Christina was right,

"It takes a village to raise a child."

But there I was, at 3 a.m., nursing my baby, trying with everything in me to meet her needs. Trying to stop her cries, trying to stop my own. There I was, not calling those friends who had told me that I could call anytime if I needed something or just wanted to talk. If I could not help myself, how could they possibly help? And what if they saw, finally, that I was not strong? What if they found me weak, needy, incapable of being a mother? What if they saw that I did not have it all together as I so wanted them to think? What if they knew how scared, frustrated, and exhausted I was?

I was afraid of the village. I was afraid of what its people would think of me once they realized I wasn't keeping it all together. I did everything in my power those first few weeks to prove that I could go this alone.

My step-mom, Lisa, got to witness this first hand. She came and stayed with us just after Olivia was born. She was the first of the "moms" to come help out and in my quest to prove that I could do it all, I refused to let her help. My inability to let go, caused a small divide in our once close relationship. Though we have made amends, I wish I could have let go enough to let her in. The truest testament to her awesomeness is that she stuck by me even when I tried to push her away.

After she left, my mom and MIL came to help and I let them...well at least a little. Slowly, I started letting others in. I called those friends who said I could call anytime with questions or just venting. I started asking for help when I needed it. Suddenly, it was as if something inside of me just woke up and I had the realization that I could not do everything all by myself. If I was going to be successful at motherhood, I needed a village.

Then I started writing these zany blogs and letting all of you in on my secret that I'm not so together after all. It feels GREAT to ask for help. It feels incredible to reach out to all of you, to family and friends, to random strangers in the grocery store who help me out to my car with my groceries because my child is having a nuclear melt down. It feels incredible to just let go sometimes and let you all, my villagers, step in to help.

The really sad thing is that all of these years I've considered myself a Deserted Islander, I've really been surrounded by all of you the entire time. I wasn't on a deserted island. I just had my head in my butt. I have been blind for nearly 30 years as to how much I have relied on this village. In learning this reliance, I have been shown just how much I can depend on others. I've been shown just how much I never really did it all myself to begin with. I've also learned to lean on my husband a lot more. I have come to appreciate the fact that,

"It takes a village to raise a child." 

Today, we celebrate Olivia's first birthday and as I've been reflecting on the past year, this phrase has been the thought that has been bouncing around in my head.

Mike and I have been joking that we are celebrating today because we've managed to keep our kid alive for an entire year! The first year party, we said, is really just a survival party for us! But we did not survive this alone. If we are successful at this parenting gig, if we have been able to raise Oli well this first year, if we still have even a shred of sanity, it is due in large part to all of YOU, our village.

I wish I could name all of you individually for all you have done. There are so many that I fear I would leave someone out. We have been seriously blessed this year to have had all of you in our lives. I am completely overwhelmed when I think of the numerous times that all of you were here to support us.

Today, on this incredible day that we celebrate the birth of The Boss Lady, I want to say THANK YOU to all of you for being here for us this first year. Thank you for laughing with us, crying with us, and keeping us together. Thank you for the times you listened, gave advice, or just a hug. Thank you for not judging when we failed and for celebrating our successes.

Thank you for being with us through the most incredible year of our lives. And it's only just getting started...

Happy Happy Birthday to the one and only Olivia Anne!

Sunday Funday

We have a new tradition here at Casa Milligan. We call it Sunday Funday and it goes a little something like this: Every Sunday at around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, we turn on Jimmy Buffett radio (courtesy of Pandora), start mixing up margaritas, and we dance around the house as we make dinner and close out the weekend. We blast the music and sing along to Brown Eyed Girl (except we change the words to Blue Eyed Girl since we are usually singing to The Boss Lady) and It's 5 O'Clock Somewhere (has there ever been a song with more truer words spoken??). Sometimes we hold Oli in our arms and whisk her all over the kitchen and living room. Sometimes she stands between us bouncing up and down to the beat. Sunday Fundays are extremely casual too. You'll usually find Mike and me in shorts and t-shirts and Oli in just a diaper.

Sunday Fundays came about a few weeks ago when Mike said "We need more margaritas in this house!" Well, you don't have to tell me twice! Ha! We just realized that sometimes Sundays can be a little 'blah' because they are the signal of the impending work week. We just wanted a way to make them more fun and celebratory. So we do!

About two Sundays ago, as we sat down to eat dinner, No Woman, No Cry, playing softly in the background, Mike asked if I thought we have more fun than most other people. I don't really know. But, I do know that we have A LOT of fun in our house.

Sure, we have our bad days. For instance, a couple of weeks ago on both Saturday and Sunday I had mini-meltdowns because Olivia was being so clingy that I literally could do NOTHING without being fussed at. It was pretty unpleasant. She really perfected her Clingy Spider Monkey act. And some days I'm so worn out that I have to drink 4 cups of coffee to keep from falling asleep standing up.

For the most part though, we have a really good time with our life. Even on the bad days, we seem to rally and push the re-set button. Having fun with this life has become a way of life for us.

A couple of months ago, a friend told me that it seemed that motherhood had been easy for me. I can't remember the exact wording but basically, by reading this blog and probably some of my Facebook statuses, she had come to the conclusion that my journey in this crazy Land of Parenthood had been easy. When I told Mike this, I was shocked. Easy? Where on earth was she getting that idea?

Mike pointed out that, when I write, I almost always have something humorous to say and I try to find the bright spot and that's probably how she got that idea. Furthermore, he said, motherhood had been fairly easy for me. But not because the chips had somehow miraculously fallen right into place. Mike reminded me of the fun in our life. He reminded me that we always find the silver lining, the thing that makes life fun and interesting and sometimes hilarious. That's what has made motherhood "easy" for me.

Here's the thing though: mine and Mike's life hasn't always been easy. We both lost our dads before their time. Mine lost his battle with cancer and Mike's dad was killed tragically in a car accident at the hands of drunk driver. These two men didn't leave this earth without leaving us with an invaluable way of looking at life though. They never knew each other, but Doug Milligan and Bill Grady, probably would have been great friends. They LOVED life.

No matter what situation you put them in, no matter who they were with, or how much money they had, they made the best of everything. There was not a situation they could not find a way to be happy in. We strive to embrace that part of our dads. The way we look at it is this: We have a choice every single day when we wake up. We can either mourn the lives of those we've lost or let the upsets from the past get us down, OR we can live THIS life. This one life. This one chance we get to make it count. And we make it count big time.

We embrace the crazy. There are a lot of things in this life we can't control. We've mostly stopped trying. When Oli was born, I thought I could keep everything exactly like it was before she got here. I thought I could control every outcome, every emotion, every event that happened in our lives. I got the wake up call of a lifetime when I realized I wasn't really in control at all. And I really hadn't ever been.

I had a choice when that realization struck. I could fight it, still trying to maintain my illusion of control. Or I could let go, get messy, and have a lot more fun. I let motherhood change me. I opened my heart, my mind, and I let go. I made a choice to just be in the moment. Because that's all you get. I CHOOSE this circus life of mine.

As I often am along this journey, I'm struck by the correlation of my experiences in motherhood and my experience in my faith life. When I became a Christian, when I really embraced my faith, I had two choices then too. I could choose to keep living life as I had been before I let God into my life. But then what would have been the point? The choice I made, made me nervous. It meant giving up control. I chose to let my relationship with God change me. I chose to let it make me better. I still choose it everyday.

In the same way that I'll some day teach Oli about making good choices, I remember that same lesson for my life now.

So, instead of worrying about the laundry that needs to be done or the fact that The Boss Lady has scattered toys and Tupperware around every room of my house, I'll toast with my sweet husband on Sunday afternoon, turn up the volume, grab Oli, and dance.

*I could NOT figure out a way to flip this video but it was too cute not to share!

Happy Birthday, Mikey!

Today is my sweet Miguel's 36th birthday! The first birthday I ever celebrated with him was his 30th and at that time he was dreading his 30's. To help him overcome that dread, I threw a huge surprise party for him and, I think he would agree here, it definitely helped ease him into this decade! Though he doesn't like to make a big deal about his birthday, I love it and am always asking him weeks in advance what he wants or what he wants to do.

The reason I love Mike's birthday so much is because it is a day that is all about HIM. He rarely takes time out for himself and I tend to be the loud mouth of our team so he doesn't request a lot of attention be paid to him. But I think he deserves it. Mike is an incredible man and I love getting to celebrate his awesomeness!

So, in honor of his 36th year on this earth, here are 36 things I love about my amazing husband:

1. His smile that is seriously ear to ear. That grin gets me every time.
2. His shoulders. They're sexy.
3. The fact that he gets up every single morning at 5 a.m. without saying a single curse word. How does he do that??
4. The way he walks in the door with a huge smile on his face and excitement written all over it at the prospect of seeing Olivia.
5. He never calls in sick to work. Though I often encourage him to play hooky, he has the best work ethic that I have ever come across.
6. His collection of tri-athlon shirts.
7. His collection of tri-athlon metals.
8. The fact that he competes in tri-athlons. Seriously, I'm in awe of this and so very, very proud.
9. His love of rum.
10. The fact that he looks in a different drawer every morning for the silverware even though it's been in the same place for the past several years. I give him a hard time about this but I secretly think it's cute and if he didn't do it, I'm not sure what I would do.
11. His old-man-Milligan habit of walking out on the front porch to see what all the commotion is about every time something is going on in our neighborhood.
12. The fact that he HATES scary movies.
13. The way that he describes food kind of erotically. Like after he describes a hamburger he had for lunch, I feel a little sweaty and drool-ey.
14. How he works out almost every single night. At 9 o'clock!
15. He has the most wonderful and sensitive heart.
16. His beautiful eyes and eyelashes.
17. Watching him play with Oli and the way he lights up when he looks at her.
18. Listening to him give Oli her bath at night and the way his voice hits this high pitch that I've never heard before. The man will do anything to make that kid smile.
19. His attachment to sentimental items.
20. How he has a love for bar-b-que but he never makes me go eat it except once a year. On his birthday.
21. His willingness to do anything I ask of him.
22. The way he loves and respects his mom and grandma. Ladies, that is a sure-fire way to know how your man is going to treat YOU!
23. How he always gives me updates on what is going on around town. Example: "Hey, Steph, did you see that they are building a new oil change place off of Hwy 360 and Abram?"
24. His love of conspiracy theory.
25. His future goals for our family and how passionate he is about them.
26. The fact that he puts up with my crazy a$$!
27. The way he is supportive but honest with me at all times.
28. The fact that he decorated the garage in an attempt to claim some spot in this house as his "Man Room."
29. The way he whips up a mean breakfast burrito! Seriously, we should open a breakfast burrito stand.
30. How he has this silly, playful, smart-alecky side.
31. His laugh. It's so pure.
32. The way he drives like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. I often wonder how he makes it home everyday.
33. How his brain works. Thank goodness he understands the stock market because I sure as heck don't! It's like another language and he speaks it well. He is so very smart.
34. He always finds the positive in everything.
35. His easy-going, laid-back personality.
36. The way he pushes me to be better, without pushing at all. The way he is so incredible that he makes me want to be deserving of that incredible-ness.

Happy Birthday to my best friend, my partner, my sweet Mike. I love you more than all of the stars in the sky...

Buy the Book!!!!

Okay, so remember when I said that Olivia's birth story had been selected to be published in a book about birth? Well, the book is out AND you can order it!

Just click on the link on this blog page--look to the right of this post. The book is called The Birth Next Door and I am so excited about it! My copy is on the way!!

There are all different kinds of birth stories in this book so it will be a great read!

Enjoy!

Just a little venting...

I just need to vent for a moment. Overall, I’d say that our life with The Boss Lady is magnificent.  BUT, I do have those days where I am very nearly pulling my hair out and thinking that if I checked myself in to the nearest psych hospital at least I’d probably get the good drugs. While those days aren’t nearly as bad as the Newborn Phase (a.k.a. Hell Weeks 1 through 8), life with a toddler is DEFINITELY challenging at times. So I just need to vent about a few of the more trying issues we’ve been experiencing lately.

First off: Teething.

Let me just say: WTH???? You know, everyone talks about the pains of child birth being the curse of Eve. Well, I disagree. The curse isn’t the pain of childbirth. At least with that, you get this great little prize at the end and if you want, you can have the good drugs. With teething, all you get at the end is a kid who wants to bite you to test out their new accessory. 

But first you have to get to the end of teething without losing your damn mind. On the one hand, I feel so heart broken for Oli that she’s in so much pain. On the other hand, I feel even worse for myself and Mike. She’ll never remember all of the pain and discomfort she had to go through to get her chompers. I, however, will likely have scorosis of the liver from all of the drinking I have to do to deal with this madness.

Those old timers who say you should put whiskey on the kids gums? You know how they figured that out? Well, when their kid was teething, they were taking shots of whiskey to keep from going bat-crap crazy and inevitably, one of them “accidentally” got whiskey in the mouth of their teething terror and lo and behold, a friggin’ miracle cure. But you can’t do that these days because people frown on giving a baby alcohol (weird, right??). So, you buy stock in children’s Motrin or Tylenol or Morphine (Yeah, right. I wish.), 800 boxes of frozen waffles, and you hunker down and pray for the end.

If you told me I could skip teething in exchange for a punch in the face every day for a month, I’d take the punch in the face.

That’s why people save their kid’s baby teeth. I used to think that was creepy and gross but I get it now. You work HARD for those little suckers and I intend to keep every last one of them as souvenirs of this joyous little phase.

Second: The Clingy Spider Monkey.

So, we are sitting in the living room, surrounded by noisy toys, books, tupperware, etc. and my kid is playing and having a good ‘ole time. She’s walking around telling me all of her ideas about life in her little baby babble language. Most of the time, she’s in the same room as I am sitting in but occasionally, she wonders into her bedroom to create more mass destruction and she plays in there for a little while.

Eventually it happens. I have to pee. And because I’ve had a baby, I need to take care of that pretty immediately lest I risk a sneeze or deep cough. So I get up and head to the bathroom. Sounds innocent enough, right? Nope. The SECOND I am out of her sight in another room, all hell breaks loose.

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she screams at me. Then she drunk wobbles her way into the bathroom, trying to climb up on my lap or reach her hand into the toilet or nurse or whatever during the 3.7 seconds I took to take care of my personal business.

What’s up with that?? Why is it totally okay for her to go play in her room by herself if she wants but the very moment I try to do anything by myself, it is totally unacceptable in her eyes? I literally could be sitting there watching her play and she’ll be totally happy. But if I pick up my phone or computer or a book, she is all over me. It’s so bizarre.

My pj’s have an elastic waist band and I can’t even tell you how many mornings I get up to make breakfast and she starts clinging to me because I dared to do something for myself. I stand there in the kitchen, scrambling my eggs, while Olivia pulls my shorts down to my knees. That’s quite a sight I’m sure.

Or she’ll act like she wants me to hold her, so I pick her up and she starts trying to climb me or something. I’m still not sure what the objective of this maneuver is. Is the goal to get to the highest point by trying to perch on top of my friggin’ head??? I’ll be standing there holding her while she’s pulling at my shirt and clawing at my hair like a cat trying to climb a tree or something. So, I put her back down thinking maybe that’s what she wants and we do this like a million times a day. No wonder I have a herniated disk.

Look, if you don’t have kids, get your butt in shape before you do. Because it is a constant wrestling match. Train for parenthood like an NFL linebacker would train for the Superbowl. Ooh, or like someone training for a title fight in a UFC match. Oh, except, include biting and scratching as part of your training. Yeah, just have a couple of your friends yell at you for days on end while you do like a gajillion squats, bends, and twists each day. Make sure they hit you on various parts of your body with things like a remote or some crazy light up toy that doesn’t have lead paint but feels like a brick of lead when it smashes into your cheek bone. Then you’ll be ready for life with a toddler.

Lastly: The Godzilla-Like Destruction

First I just have to say that I LOVE that Olivia is moving on her own now. A lot of people were pretty discouraging about this and said that I would regret ever wishing she could crawl or walk. But I don’t regret it. At least now, she can get to where she wants/needs to be. Before walking or crawling, she would get really frustrated and cry a lot when she couldn’t do something.

That being said: I do understand WHY everyone said I would wish for the days when she was immobile. Once these kids get moving, they do NOT stop. And they get into EVERYTHING. Nothing is off limits. I had really hoped to not have to baby proof but my kid has a special gift for finding exactly the thing she isn’t supposed to get into and getting into it.

She has pulled lamps over on herself, stuck her fingers in an electrical socket, pulled a cup of hot coffee over on herself, taken off with a bottle of Miracle Grow to drink with her veggie straws, and taken her own diapers out of the trash for a late afternoon snack. She was not harmed during any of these adventures, thank goodness. I have been able to catch all of these things but I feel like every day I am finding something else that is a death trap for my child.

My house looks like a friggin’ daycare center/homeless shelter most of the time and yet all of the toys and tupperware in the world don’t keep her entertained enough to keep her out of things she shouldn’t be in. My office looks like a robbery took place because she’s constantly pulling paper off of the printer and crinkling it all up so that  it’s completely unusable and will cause a paper jam if I try to put it in the printer. Half of our books have pages that have had to be taped back in because her very favorite thing to do with books is to rip out the pages and crinkle those up too.

Oh, and my kitchen table constantly looks like it gets a daily wash with banana mush. The floor under that same table looks like someone left a week’s worth of groceries scattered underneath. For every piece of food that goes in Olivia’s mouth, 3 more pieces go on the ground. This is the ONLY time I wish we had a dog.

At the end of the day, after she’s gone to bed, I rush around the house picking everything up and then I just sit on the couch and enjoy the clean for about 10 minutes before I crawl into bed. Then we do it all again the next day.

Whew! Okay, I feel better. Seriously, I love that my girl is moving and discovering her world—most of the time! For those not-so-great days, thankfully I have some really great friends to turn to who don’t judge and always make me forget my problems--Jack, Jose, and Jim. ;)

In all seriousness, I just try to enjoy those instances when the Teething Godzilla Spider Monkey is in my arms holding me tight and I say “Give me a kiss, Oli.” She parts her lips just a little and leans in close to my face. And my heart melts and I think “Yeah, maybe this clingy thing isn’t so bad…”  

Conversations in Crazy Town

Just a few more happenings around Casa Milligan for your enjoyment and amusement...

***

A conversation with Olivia's daycare teachers regarding baby food...

Me: I'm just not sure why but she won't eat baby food.

Teacher: Well, I don't blame her. Have you ever tried baby food? It's gross!

Me: Oh yeah, I tried it. I figured if I was going to make her eat it I should at least know what it tastes like. Mike thinks that's ridiculous but he also thought it was weird when I tasted my own breastmilk.

Dead silence from the teachers.

Me: Look, I'm not some sort of crazy person who drinks her own breastmilk!

'Cause you know when you have to assure people you aren't crazy that's pretty much a sign that you are the President of the Looney Bird Association.

***

After I worked late one night and came home to Mike and Olivia playing in the kitchen...

Me: Hey babe, why hasn't dinner been started?

Mike: Uh, well, I was busy taking care of Olivia.

Me: Oh, I see. Well, I forgot to tell you my trick about how I just stick her in the closet. It's how I SOMEHOW MANAGE TO GET DINNER STARTED EVERY SINGLE NIGHT OF THE WEEK.

***

After a paricularly grueling day with Olivia...

Mike: You know why people have a 2nd kid?? It's like when you are really drunk. And somewhere in your drunken head you get this bright idea that just ONE MORE beer is somehow going to make it all better. So you drink the beer.

***

While giving Olivia her bath after she fell backward and got a little water up her nose...

Mike: We should drown proof Olivia.

Me: WHAT?

Mike: Well, I watched this 20/20 special on Navy Seals and how they drown proof them so that they don't ever drown. They make them do all of this stuff like, for instance, they have to retrieve something from the bottom of a pool with their hands tied behind their backs and they have to swim all of these crazy distances.

Me: Yeah, um, okay, well, I'm pretty sure the Navy Seals aren't taking 10 month old female applicants.

****

As we were in the kitchen one Saturday morning...

Me: Olivia, what did you just put in your mouth? Is it a piece of rice?

Me retrieving the piece of rice from her mouth, realizing it was NOT a piece of rice, screaming a slew of inappropriate phrases, throwing the squirming not-piece-of-rice on the ground, and scooping my baby up off of the ground.

Me: What the hell is THAT???

Mike: That's a maggot.

Me: Holy bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep!

Us looking around the kitchen floor suddenly realizing there were maggots EVERYWHERE!!! Apparently they were coming from our trash. It was THE MOST DISGUSTING thing I have ever experienced in my life.

***

Conversation with a friend after we told her about the maggot incident...

Friend: So, what did you do to sterilize the floor so Olivia wouldn't have to be on the same floor where the maggots were.

Me: Well, see, after she ATE ONE OF THEM, I didn't really think sterilizing the floor was all that important.

***

Trust me when I say that you want to be careful around a toddler when you are naked. When they start walking, they want to explore everything and nothing is off limits--not even YOUR body.

So there you are, minding your own damn business when this tiny gremlin grabs a fat roll and giggles when it squishes between her fingers or she tries to clean your belly button out by sticking her finger in it. Or she gives you a nice Brazillian by grabbing a handful of hair and pulling. That one's a real treat, let me tell ya.

***

After particularly grueling day, I was headed home with Olivia and a carload of stuff and I was hungry and it was getting late and I had been calling Mike like 100 times for about an hour trying to let him to go ahead and start dinner. When I got home, I saw his car in the drive and started honking the horn. Nothing. I stomped inside with Olivia to find him lounging on the couch. No dinner had been started. 

Me: Where have you been??

Mike: Here at home...

Me: Well, I called like 8 million times to ask you to get dinner started and I left like a billion messages.

Mike: I think my phone is broken...

At this point, we had walked outside as he was helping me to unload the car and we were standing in the driveway and my head was about to spin off.

Me: I will break yo' face!!!!

And then I saw them. The neighbors. Standing in their garage watching our whole exchange. Immediately, I smiled all Stepford Wives Style and waved. 

Me: Hey guys! How's it going???

They just sort of stared, open mouthed, then retreated in to the safety of their home. On Sunday they came over to let us know they'd be out of town and could we watch their house. When I opened the door, I was sipping a margarita. It was 3 o'clock. On a Sunday. 

I'm pretty convinced they think I'm just a booze hound husband abuser at this point.