The Return Decision

So we're back from vacation.

We have been for about a week or so.

But it's been busy.

We're moving out of our house in about a week. We're both back at work. My husband goes away for a few days next week. Zumba is back. Volleyball is back.

We're busy.

And while it has been challenging to come up with posts every day, and I have enjoyed it, the truth is I am exhausted.

And we'll be moving the computers too.

But I have decided to do my best. I have decided to post at least four times a week, versus everyday. But I'll do more if I can.

Bu for now, let the insanity begin.

P.S. Oh, hello 30. Nice to meet you. No, I don't have a complex about my age....

The Productivity Equation

My productivity % =( amount of work I have to do / hours of sleep x oz. of caffeine) x 10

Guess what happens when hours of sleep and oz. of caffeine equal zero.

The Froyo Conclusion

My husband and I have been wanting to try this new frozen yogurt place near our house. He discovered it accidentally on a day off, and we've been meaning to go there.

Since half of our house is in storage, and we just got in from vacation, desserts have been kind of...lacking. So tonight seemed like the perfect night to try to head out.

And then Anna got a runny nose. And fussy. And warm. All day.

And I never got around to showering.

So when the husband came home, he took Anna and let me shower. We'd decide if we were going after I got out.

Apparently I took too long.

The Gentleman Anomaly

Today a gentleman offered me his seat on the T.

Huh.

Decency and chivalry do exist. Even during a heat wave.

Who knew?

The Intern Comparison

We have a data intern at work that has been helping us out. She took on some extra work while I was on maternity leave, but she volunteers for us later in the day after I leave, so I hardly see her. I worked late the other day, and the first thing she said to me was:

"Wow, you really do look different when you're not pregnant!"

Uh, yeah? Duh. 

Granted, she didn't know me before I was like 6 months pregnant, but still. 

Although she neglected to mention if I looked good....just that I looked different. I better go clarify.

The Baby Book Proposition

Anna received two baby books. Both were very nice, and to be honest, as a crazed perfectionist  an avid organizer, I loved the idea of keeping track of all of her little milestones as they came along.

I also wanted to keep track of feedings, bowel movements, etc., since I had seen my sister-in-law doing it and felt I should do it too. Just because. So I downloaded a few free baby apps to help keep track of these as well. 

I was ready. 

And then I had the baby. 

And all that went out the window. 

Because seriously, NOBODY HAS TIME FOR THAT CRAP. 

In between the feedings, the diapers, the visits from family, and god forbid, getting any sleep, NOBODY HAS TIME FOR THAT CRAP.

I mean really. There are a million other things I would rather be doing than to fill out every bowel movement, estimate every ounce she eats, and other nonessential information that I'm sure as a grown woman she can live without knowing. 

Look at this:

Are you kidding? I need to record her mood, her activity level? 

That app was deleted.

I did a few pages of Anna's book one night in an attempt to be a good mom. I didn't get too far. Because really, I don't remember when she first started to smile, I just know that she can. And I LOVED IT. And I didn't feel the need to record it the moment it happened. I was busy ENJOYING IT. 

So my advice, as a rookie mom, is to just skip the books and the apps. If you really need to remember how much she eats or poops, your doctor will ask you to record it. Use a pen and paper. More reliable, and you and your spouse can both use it. Use notes from her doctors visits to record milestones. That way you can enjoy them when they come along. Seriously, no one wins any awards because their three month old can roll over before someone else's three month old. Just enjoy them. If you really need to keep track, try this:

Make the child a Facebook page. Restrict it as much as possible. When the child makes accomplishments, or when you take photos, tag them. Bam. Instant baby book. You can also restrict friends with your child to family and prevent crazy people from getting your child's information.

The Beach Comparison

My husband's family goes to the lake every summer for a week or so. My family goes to the beach each summer for two weeks. The last week at the lake and first week at the beach overlap, but we generally have a week at each vacation place.

You've already heard a bit about the camp my husband's family goes to. My family has been going to the same beach house for almost 20 years. We have rented the 2nd floor for a long time, back to when I used to fit 7 kids and 4 adults among 4 beds, two cots, and the occasional air mattress. Not to mention any friends that would visit and sleep over. The beach and camp are similar in only a few ways:

1. Bad beds. You will not get a good nights sleep. Camp beds creak horribly, you sleep in sleeping bags on thin mattresses, and the beds are so small that if you aren't married to the person you are sharing the bed with you should be by morning--just to be proper. Be sure to invite the invading bugs to your reception. At the beach, you get a little more mattress, but they sag in the middle, creating a heat filled cuddle time--whether you want it or not. Oh yeah, and sand. EVERYWHERE.

2. Card playing. Day or night, our families both play cards fairly religiously on vacation. Another family initiation rite is that you MUST know how to play Forty-Fives, or be willing to learn. Or else you are OUT.

Camp and the beach are also quite different...

1. At camp, if you're not family, you're not really invited. Period. At the beach, everyone and their best friend is invited to come up, regardless of sleepng space, parking space, and quantity of food and drink.

2. Camp has fairly ample parking. At the beach, it is a mad rush to see who can get the most parking spaces--and keep them. Each time someone needs to leave the beach house, it is a mad rush to rearrange vehicles so no street parking is lost. You may actually be considered a disgrace if you resort to parking on the paid lot across the street, or World War III may break out if you've hogged the space that comes with the condo too long.

3. At least the beach has ample indoor plumbing. And showers. Hot water available only if you wait 20 minutes between showers.

4. Sound. The lake is quiet, peaceful, and serene. With the occasional exception of fireworks, camp is a dead zone for sound at night. The beach is a cacophony of sound. Waves, planes, kids, fireworks, and traffic (especially motorcycles) can be heard day and night. Buying stock in earplugs is recommended.

5. And finally, atmosphere. My husband's family and mine are as similar and different as the lake and the beach. His family is quiet, calm, and simple, whereas mine is an explosion of sound, food, and drama. It is not unheard of for someone in my family to dive across the table during a game of Spoons (and disappear underneath the opposite side) or for someone to slam down their Forty-Fives hand in the throes of victory the losers won't speak to them for a day. 

The Volleyball Protege

I love how the trophy is almost as big as she is.

P.S. Champions!

The Camp Solution

My husband has been coming to the same campground for vacation for almost 30 years. At first glance, this place isn't much; a bunch of wood cabins with minimal lighting, no hot water or showers, and bathrooms the equivalent of holes in the earth. All of the doors have screens and none of the windows do. The outhouse showers only have hot water between 5:00 AM and 5:07 AM. They have a dance every Monday night where they do the Virginia Reel.

I had never ever heard of the Virginia Reel before I started going to camp.

Camp is a big deal. You don't just get invited to visit camp. Families here have grandchildren and great-grandchildren who now come every summer, and the cabin waiting list goes on for years. 

You heard me. People actually pay for this no-hot-water outdoor living experience. And love it. And come back for years. When we were in high school, none of my husband's girlfriends visited camp--including me. When I came up to visit a year after we started dating again, it was something of a shock. You do NOT get invited to camp unless you were going to be around for a LONG time. It is a test of sorts. If you like camp, you are eligible for marriage. If you don't--Sayonara baby. Literally, if I did not like camp, that was going to be a deal breaker for my husband for getting married.

Lucky for me, I loved camp. So I was in. 

This year is our first year at camp with Anna (last year I spent it throwing up in the bathroom after the camp dance - woohoo morning sickness and twirling!). It has been an experience in packing/vacationing with baby, so like any rookie parent I went looking for little vacation "hacks" or tips to bring only the necessities or make life as easy as possible.

I found only one: baby powder helps remove sand.

That's it.

Not as helpful as I had hoped. 

So here's my first personal travel with baby vacation hack, should you be crazy lucky enough to have our camping experience:

What to do when your baby really needs time on her activity mat but you have wooden floors with nail hazards?

Redefining Pack and Plays since 2013.

The Scratcher Effect

Today I watched a full grown man scratch his ass on a tree.

Welcome to camp.

The Vacation Interruption

It''s that time of year again.

VACATION.

And seeing as I don't get very much of it, I'm OUT. Let's see how Anna does in lukewarm lakewater and SAND!

As of today, this blog is officially on vacation. If you'd like to leave a message, please do so at the beep.

BEEP.

Happy Fourth of July!

Happy Birthday America! Live it up with burgers, hot dogs, and an ice cold beer!

The Teenager Theorum

I work with teenagers. And don't get me wrong - they are some of the best teenagers. My process of selecting the teens we hire (at least my mental process) is complicated. There's certain things that come into play in terms of putting the team together each summer, applying different strengths and weaknesses to the bigger picture. But all in all, they are good kids.

And it's always the quiet ones that surprise you.

I am sometimes afraid when I see teenagers on the street. I overhear their conversations, and they seem....petty.

Maybe now it's because I'm a mother. Other things are a priority for me, and maybe I've forgottenwhat it's like to be a teenager.

Or maybe I was a different kind of teenager.

I wasn't one to talk about fashion, or who the hottest celeb is, or to be completely and totally crazy over a latte. I know girls will be girls.

But I think it scares me to see what teens are capable of in terms of human empathy and kindness. It scares me nowadays to see their work ethics and their sense of entitlement. The way they talk about strangers judgmentally, loudly, and sometimes rudely.

I know we've got some time before Anna's teenage years, and I know it's probably normal to worry about how your child will grow up and who they will grow up to be.

But if I hear one more person say "Oh, a girl - girls are the worst as teenagers!" I will punch them in the face.

Listen jerkface, I was a teenage girl once too, and I wasn't such a crazy *****.

And P.S. all girls are crazy. We're just different shades of crazy. Get used to it.

The Fly Annhilation

Actually heard in my household this week:

Me: Wow. I just killed a fly with a burp cloth.

Husband: Really?

Me: Yeah. MAN I FEEL LIKE A WOMAN!

True story.

The Rookie Mistake

Well, one of many mistakes.

Anna was born in March, when there isn't a lot of sunshine and it's pretty frelling cold. Fast forward to June, when it's 90 degrees one day and 54 the next (welcome to New England).

My husband and I aren't HUGE outdoor enthusiasts, unless it comes to one thing: WATER. Ocean, lakes, you name it we're there. Anna is also a big water enthusiast.

But I digress.

Part of taking Anna out means going outside. As someone who is allergic to the sun (read: burns easily), and one who also knows more than human beings need to know about skin cancer, if Anna's going to be in the sun, she's going to wear sunscreen. End of story.

Until we brought her out and someone mentioned quite loudly that babies aren't supposed to wear sunscreen until they are six months old.

Wha?

News to me. Anna's only gotten sunscreen a handful of times in her 4 short months, and granted the mother that said it was only one month my senior (in terms of motherhood). And her baby was out in the sun. With a sleeveless onesie, no shoes, and a hat. That's it.

We at least made an attempt to cover Anna up. She had on a sleeveless onesie, and we wrapped her in a cool cloth. She had on a hat and was constantly being turned to face AWAY from the sun or ducking under tents that were not ours.

There will be no tomato babies in this house.

And if she absolutely HAS to be in the sun, doctors prefer there is sunscreen. So there. Rookie mistake. Got it.

P.S. Do yourself a favor. Google 'tomato baby'. DO NOT I repeat DO NOT Google 'sunburned baby'. DON'T DO IT!