You got a bit of stuffing on your face. . .

I had my first commercial audition in a long time, they were looking for Mom types to do some cooking tutorials for a stuffing company. Thank you agent for finding something that I may be a good fit for in this transitional stage of post baby 1 and pre baby 2.

It was a production just to make it to the audition but I went. I lined up a friend to babysit lion paw and scheduled our whole day around the audition:

Morning nap – wash, dry hair, pick out and set out clothes.

Morning playtime – run to target with nearby playground and pick up prints of temporary headshots.

Afternoon nap – print resume, set up GPS, hot roll hair, do makeup, pack babysitting bag, eat, brush teeth, repowder, wonder what I would do if my baby didn’t nap. . .

After afternoon nap, I was ready to chase my dream but not without first having to change a diaper. Nothing takes that glamorous “this is my moment” moment away like changing stinky - sticky doo doo, especially with lion paw currently in the phase of reaching down, touching doo and then touching you. I hadn’t changed a diaper with my hair down for a long time, between keeping his hands and my hair out of the doo doo I broke a sweat on my freshly powdered brow.

When I was an accountant I used to hate that I would show up to an audition with 4 to 6 hours of math on my face, but I think that that’s a whole lot more appealing than doo doo.

Nonetheless I changed the diaper and chased the dream. In that order.

Mom Prom

Every night you get to get out by yourself as a Mom is Prom. You are 16 again, the night is yours, there is no curfew, no restrictions, the night is full of endless possibilities and you can’t stop your heart from pitter pattering. Even if it’s just a night at the movies with your girlfriend, you are convinced that it is going to be the best night of your life – because You. Are. Free.

Needing me

I’m happy that my baby now sleeps thru the night. He is ten months old today, time flies. Sometimes though, I wish he’d wake up, needing me. I miss that time together in the middle of the night, where his cries were comforted by my breast, I miss that precious time in the rocking chair. The annoyance that would creep over me just as I had laid down and he woke up for a feeding quickly vanished the minute I picked him up and held him to myself. I never thought I’d miss those days. I guess that’s the thing about being a mommy, every single day they grow up and need you just a little bit less. 10 months ago he literally couldn’t live without me. 1 month ago he couldn’t sleep without me. Right now he can’t go far or eat very much without me but every day he can go a little farther and feed himself a little bit more. And I keep wanting him to grow up. Everytime I have to pick up his heavy 25 lbs I think, Oh, I can’t wait until you can walk. Everytime I have to guess what he wants I think, Ugh, I can’t wait until you can talk. But everyday he needs me a little less and it hurts a little more. Some day he will be so grown up, he won’t even need me at all. He will marry some woman and I will just become the annoying mother in law. I never thought I’d be the type of mother to have these feelings. To want him to stay young, to want him to stay needing me, and I know those are not the things I really want for him, it must just be crazy maternal instinct or maybe maternal insanity is a better word. You grow to love something that came way too soon and forced you to give up everything you had going for yourself and you were just sure you would resent it for taking away your freedom and needing you ALL THE TIME but then you find yourself crying and blogging in the middle of the night because that little thing doesn’t need you to sleep anymore and it hurts to not be needed and it hurts even more to know that for the rest of his life, each day he's gonna need you, just a little bit less.

You know you're a momma when . . .

This is your water bottle during your workout and you ain't even ashamed

Happiness is not situational

I’m a stay at home mom, I count my blessings that I have a husband who will work hard enough to support the entire family on our own. I count my blessings that I also have a husband who is a fantastic cook, and therefore does the majority of the cooking. But he is still a husband and therefore a man. This morning I was starting to crack, no, for awhile now I have been starting to crack, I have been a stay at home Mom for 10 months now and my house is still not organized like I thought it would be, I still have not figured out how to keep the refrigerator and the bank account full, I still am toting around 30 of the 80 lbs I gained even though I run at least three times a week and am breastfeeding (cause you know “if you breastfeed the weight just falls off” – not true, not true at all) and I still can’t seem to book any solid acting jobs, though I kind of blame those pesky thirty pounds. I can’t even get pregnant with baby #2, but I blame the nursing. I seem to be failing at everything. I tried to open up to my husband this morning about my feelings and how I feel as if I have lost my freedom. He has not. I know from his viewpoint he definitely has lost some freedom, but from mine, as we all only see our side, he hasn’t lost any – he still gets to get up when he wants, go to work, take a lunch when possible, this can sometimes be alone or with friends, after work he’s free to run errands, go to the store, the gas station, the bank, all without putting someone in and out of the carseat. I can do none of these things, I can’t even do a number 2 without thinking about my priority number 1, my little one. I have lost my freedom and I am starting to crack. When I opened up to him about this this AM, when I was up at 7:30 to take care of the baby and Daddy was still sleeping, , he exploded, like men do, thinking I was coming at him for not doing enough, then he started blaming the baby, saying he needs to be left alone more, etc. etc. After some dramatic shenanigans of my own where I said stupid things like “Don’t worry, I will never open up to you again, I learned my lesson I just need to always pretend to be fine!!!”. I was able to calm down and remind him, that this is no ones fault, its not the babies, its not his and its not mine, I just needed to be heard for a moment, I just needed to speak out all the craziness that was running through my head and maybe just cry a little and be held?

I have this joke with a friend of mine that I shall someday write a book entitled “I turn to Jesus, when my husband disappoints me (which is all the time)”. As my husband failed to grab and hold me and dry my tears, I started to look up and was quickly reminded that happiness is not situational. I thought if I changed my situation, I would find happiness. Before I became a SAHM I was working 40+ hours a week as an accountant and chasing my acting dream. I was managing to get out on one audition a week and at least book one job a financial quarter. But I was miserable and felt pulled in so many directions. So I changed my situation, taking advantage of an unplanned pregnancy as an opportunity to escape an unhappy workplace and thought now I will find happiness. Now I will successfully chase and catch my dream. But I find myself changing diapers, and chasing a little one. It was so easy when I was working to blame people for my unhappiness or lack of success, I could blame my boss or my coworkers for my sadness. Now who do I have to blame? I guess it’s easy to look out at my husband and see the things he’s not doing, or the things he didn’t have to give up, but who is that helping? I need to be looking inward, looking at myself, my selfishness, my laziness, my unhappiness. I need to fix those things. I have changed my situation and I still have an undercurrent of unhappiness, whats the constant? Me. I need to look up and in instead of out at others.

While at the gym my husband sent me the sweetest text, apologizing for not being more sympathetic. Apology accepted. But the good thing about when my husband disappoints me, I turn to Jesus. :)

Mommy Mishap: God Complex

My lil' lion paw is a squirmy wormy, you can't change his diaper without breaking a sweat, putting on his clothes, you better pull out some Gatorade cause its a major cardio endeavor, in an attempt to stop him today I said "Be still and know that I am MOM" I hope I don't give him some crazy mother idolizing complex. :-/