Mommy Hostess

I remember the days when I used to love hosting parties, I stayed awake all night long dreaming of themes and small ways to exhibit that theme through every party element. Lets not forget the baked goods, there were the mini sugar cookie high heels I placed on mini chocolate cakes for my “No Sex in the City Party” the 3-D werewolf cupcakes for my Twilight New Moon Birthday Party and the homemade fortune cookies for my first Los Angeles Asian themed birthday party. I would make complex dishes, set up a full fledged bar with cocktails - Cosmos for the NSATC party, a blood bank of red mix-ins for the New Moon party and the Coffee bar for my Coffee and Chocolates party, ahhh those were the days. I used to run all around town from grocery store to craft store to 99cent store to find the perfect items to put the finishing touches on each party and I loved every second of it. Two years ago – happily engaged and not yet married I threw together a last minute golden party for my fiancée and me to watch the Oscars. Of course that was all before THE BABY came along. Last year I couldn’t even bring myself to watch the Oscars barring I was so heartbroken from being pregnant and was sure that that state of being officially put the nail in the coffin of the dream I had to ever be at the Oscars. Even for my baby shower before the baby came I dreamed and sketched some of the cutest cupcake for the event but was just too pregnant and exhausted to make them happen. This year for the Oscars I invited some people over, I had no ideas for themes or party pizzazz. But I kept trying to think of something clever in between popping my boob in my sons mouth, changing his diaper, his clothes, rocking him to sleep, making stupid faces and cooing at him but nothing came to mind. I was going to go to three stores to get various items but by the time I got him up, dressed fed, myself dressed and the house semi presentable for guests I barely had time to get to one store. I knew I could only do items that involved absolutely no cooking because when you have a baby you just step away long enough to either break your sauce, overcook your meat or over boil your sugar mixture for rice crispy treats. So I reduced my spread to store bought sangria with fresh fruit chopped and mixed in, canned hummus with pita bread (which I over heated in the oven to the point of chewiness because I tended to the babe), and some fresh fruit sprinkled on a tray. It was lackluster to say the least. The day before I had decided I was only going to have rice crispy treats cause I had been craving them for almost a year but as alluded to earlier while cooking the sugar mixture I let it boil too long and they became too hard to eat let alone to offer to guests. (I did offer them but warned people they may just lose a filling). All in all by the time people got there I was too exhausted to even do my usual meet, greet, fix and pour drinks, it took everything I had to keep my eyes open which of course wasn’t aided by the fact the Oscars were SUPER LONG AND BORING this year even with young hot hosts. I remember when I too was a young hot host, full of ideas and fervor to entertain now I am just a tired ass mom. This is not a self deprecating post nor is it a request for guests to offer me reassuring comments it is just a statement of the facts of who I was and who I am becoming. I think that is the hardest thing about Motherhood letting go of who you were and getting to know who you are becoming – It’s a process, a long one and I am only four sleep deprived months in.

Is he sleeping through the night?

I find now that I have a baby the question on everyone's mind is "Is he sleeping through the night" with a judgmental tone and how I answer "no" is then followed by sufficient judgment about my parenting skills and overall skill as a mother. Its annoying and unnecessary. However who I was expecting the question rightfully from but not expecting the subsequent judgment was my pediatrician.
Pediatrician: Is he sleeping thru the night?
Me: (calmly) No
Pediatrician: (agitated) What's his longest period?
Me:(frantically thinking) Uh 4.5 - 5 hours?
Pediatrician: (really agitated) Well that's no good at all is it? He should be sleeping at least 8 hours.
I said nothing. I left with my tail between my legs but then when I got home I was really peeved. What I have heard from my friends who have been in the trenches of motherhood is that - breastfed babies take longer and boy babies take longer and well I have a breastfed boy so I have just agreed to be in for the long haul. What my doctor should have said was "What is the nighttime like" or "How is the nighttime going" to which I would have responded "Well, he's down for twelve hours with two wakings". Which is pretty darn good. And now its down to one waking so I think I am doing really good Mr. Pediatrician. I vow to never ever ask a new mom "Is he sleeping through the night?". Cause no one wants that baby to be sleeping through the night more than the mother herself, so really what business is it of mine?

I get why moms are crazy

I spend all day with my son secretly at times I long to get away from him, to just have a break from him constantly needing me. The hubs and I go out on one date a month, these date nights are the longest times I am away from my son. As the sitter usually feeds him and we are gone in the night I can be away from him for 8 to 10 hours. When I get home I find myself pacing around begging for him to wake up, crazy with worry and desire to see him and to be with him. I worry about him, I ache deep inside, I feel crazy and then I get it – I get why moms are crazy, why they go insane when we are teenagers and start to be more independent and when we go off to college and when we get jobs and move aways. Now that I have a son I get that craziness that insane desire to be with someone all of the time, to constantly want to know what and how they are doing, its not out of control its out of love, that crazy love that a mother has for her child. That crazy love that when you finally get a second free from that crying, stinky, drooling mess of a baby all you want to do is be right back there with them sporting that lovely eau de puke. I get it. I see my mom differently now. She just wants to be with me all of the time even when she doesn’t want to be with me. I get it. I’m now one of those crazy people too.

Pardon my stroller, Mr. Porsche

I took Nehe out in Los Angeles today, we ventured to the west side, something I always do with dread because of the traffic. I met a friend for coffee, I parked my car and on the way in I overheard a man outside the store literally having a conversation about $50 million dollars, nice. I rolled my stroller in and a handsome man opened the door for me, double nice and the first time in LA that someone has opened the door for me with the stroller, Nehe is four months old but that fact is shockingly true. When we were done with coffee I left and noticed that a super new, shiny black Porsche was parked next to me. As I wielded the stroller through the tiny opening I was careful not to touch it for fear that my baby’s carriage would leave a big scratch along the side. As I was putting stuff in the trunk, taking my time I looked up to see a man standing behind my stroller giving me the stink eye. Apparently my stroller was blocking his car door and he couldn’t make the words to ask me to move it. I said, “Oh sorry” and quickly moved my stroller with a sweet grin on my face, still no words as he stormed past me and into his car as if to say how dare you and your stroller be in front of my Porsche. Jerk. I can play snob too. I’ll have you know that this is no $80 Graco I am pushing around, this is a top of the line BOB Revolution that set me and my husband back $400. I should have let BOB scrape that Porsche.