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Welcome back, old self. It only took 16 months. That’s like low term in state prison.

Welcome back, old self. It only took 16 months. That’s like low term in state prison.

It’s been over a year since I’ve blogged.


I’ve been meaning to blog, but with the birth of my second child, I just haven’t felt up to it. Blogging was constantly on my mind, but it was hard for me to do it. Honestly, going back to writing is about as awkward, unsettling, and weird as having sex for the first time after giving birth (if you don’t know what I mean, read Erin Donovan’s “Dead Vagina Walking” to get caught up to speed). Plus, there was just so much to write about I honestly didn’t know where to start.

Since blogging about all that I had wanted to write about in the past year would take forever, so I’ve just made a timeline. Here’s a year of my life, condensed:

12/2013: I give birth to #2! After laboring at home and giving up because my beloved husband FELL ASLEEP while I was dancing to speed things up, we end up at the hospital, 6cm dilated and me yelling for an epidural because 1) holy oxytocin, back labor and 2) I was so desperate for sleep.

Eight hours later, my husband would help deliver a sunny side up, 7 pound 3 ounce baby girl. Unlike with my first baby, the moment they put Juliette into my arms, I was in love. Unlike with my first, I was not overwhelmed with the knowledge that I was now responsible, legally, morally and otherwise, for a tiny human being whose survival depended on me. Instead, I felt proud and confident. The past nine months had been terrible, both physically and emotionally, but after giving birth I felt amazing.


Of course, no way could I ACTUALLY do this immediately after giving birth.

1/2014: On New Year’s Day, we go to Disneyland with my son and my brand new baby girl. Being in the hospital had been terribly tough on Tiny Boss, and I wanted to do something special for him. Unfortunately, this turns out to be a horrible idea and I end up with a sick, feverish infant and several sleepless nights. Those sleepless nights haven’t disappeared, by the way.

2/2014: I am pumping so I can save milk for Tinier Boss because FFS, she is going on the bottle as soon as we get her two month shots. I am NOT making the same mistake I did with her older brother (who never took a bottle and therefore I never got a break).

3/2014: I have way too much milk because she’s not on the bottle. I’m going to start donating milk. Or maybe I should sell it. I found a website that puts you in touch with parents who need milk. This person is willing to pay $2/ounce for fresh, unfrozen milk. I’m pumping 6-12 ounces a day. I am literally a cash cow! Wait, not a cow. Poor choice of words.

Later in 3/2014: I make $20 selling breast milk! After emailing the buyer, who promises to be discreet (ok?), we meet at Starbucks.

You’re K.C.?”


Fine. Maybe he’s a dad? But a few hours after we meet up, K.C. texts me, “Your milk is delicious.”

ewBut maybe I shouldn’t judge because thanks to Google, I’ve learned that some cancer patients drink breast milk (it is full of nutrients and extremely easy to digest). Also, some bodybuilders do it too, although based solely on appearance, this guy wasn’t a bodybuilder . . . I speculate that I have sold 10 ounces of my breastmilk to an adult baby (thanks Wikipedia!).

4/2014: I am still disappointed that I can’t make money with my boobs.


What happens to a dream deferred?

8/2014: We travel to Mexico with both kids by plane.

Vacationing with tiny humans is awesome!

Vacationing with tiny humans is awesome!

The kids do awesome and I am proud. On the return flight we are stuck in a holding pattern for almost two hours due to bad weather and no one under the age of three in my row has a meltdown. On the other hand, our surrounding passengers must have been coming back from a convention for assholes. I regret not being a Tom Clancy fan; otherwise I could yell out spoilers at the man sitting next to me pretending to read but he can’t due to the amount of eye rolling going on. Bless his heart, he can’t seem to stop alternating between rolling his eyes and huffing like he’s trying to get to the head of the Hometown Buffet line. dwight

Next time I board a plane with kids, I’m printing out required reading (including this and this) to pass out. How’s that for goody bags?

booobitch9/2014: My son is potty trained! I’m forever grateful for the 3 Day Potty Training method.

At first, this is awesome, but then the realization that my schedule is now ruled by his bladder (or worse) quickly sets in. I learn the importance of always knowing the location of a bathroom or a good bush wherever I go and accumulate bad juju for the number of times we have peed on the seat or elsewhere (shudder). I spend good money on a Kalencom portable potette that is used and accepted by every American toddler except for ours.

11/2014: Flu season has set in. You know what’s worse than being sick with one kid? You guessed it.

12/2014: Baby girl is one year old. I can’t believe a year went by.

And that’s what I’ve been up to since I last blogged.

IMG_9513Actually, it wasn’t that bad getting back into writing. Stay tuned for my next post, which will be about transitioning from one to two kids, and the number of new gray hairs that have coincidentally sprouted at the same time.


What do you want to be when you grow up and what did you become

Day 8 of blogging and it’s actually getting harder to write. This is due largely to the fact that even though I want to make writing my craft and my (paid) trade, I still treat it secondary because I’m used to my regular routine of working and taking care of Raynor. I keep meaning to make it my priority and try to get it done early on in the day, but I never seem to remember until it’s midnight, Raynor is finally sleeping out of my arms and I’m thinking about my bed.

I never thought my blog would be so much about my baby and motherhood, but it really has become the most important thing in my life. Blame biology or my neurotic habit of obsessing over what I cherish, but I know Raynor is going to be number one in my life, probably forever.

But I too, still have dreams.

“I had dreams once too, you know.” Peanut Butter

I mean, the whole point of this 30-day exercise is to get back into writing, and to warm me up for my first class at UCLA Extension coming up in July. But maybe this writing thing is just another fleeting fancy of mine, brought on by postpartum hormones and being largely confined to our rocking chair. After all, here are some other careers I’ve wished I’d had:

Doctor (until chemistry class in high school)
Doctor Without Borders doctor (sometime in 2000)
Astronaut (4th grade, until I read that you needed perfect vision to be an astronaut and my dreams were crushed)
UN Ambassador
Owner of a dog walking business
Veterinarian (on and off throughout life)
Artist (on and off throughout elementary school, but Tiger Mom squelched that by saying all I could do to make a living as an artist was to be an art teacher)
Journalist (high school through college)
Politician (college)
Film maker
Public Defender (law school, did this for two years)
Lawyer (law school, and post-law school for about two years before realizing what an unfortunate career choice I’ve made)
Ad copywriter (most recently. still want to do this.)
Tina Fey
Krav maga instructor (2005)
Yoga instructor (2010)
Snowboarding resort worker (every winter)
Law professor (120 seconds sometime in 2010 after I left my firm)
Stuntsman/attend ninja training school here in LA (5 seconds)
Costume designer (every time I go to comic con)
Pole dancer (um, nevermind)

I just realized that I actually did have a career in law and I wanted a career in law. Not bad. Now I want a career in writing. Let’s see where this takes me.

Time is not on our side

I know this because I have a three-month old and I’m trying to blog while he sleeps. There used to be this game when I was growing up called “Don’t Wake Daddy.”

I never had this game, but in the commercials if you woke Daddy up, the plastic figure in the middle of the board, which had been sleeping supine in bed, would sit straight up. I think alarm bells even went off. I always think of this game because whenever I put Raynor down to sleep, unless I’m sleeping with him, he’ll be up in 5 minutes or so. Vanilla can get him to stay sleeping for 30 minutes but with me, I live in fear of hearing the little cry or seeing a slight movement that I know will turn into a sleepy but awake, angry infant (FYI: the real trick to get a baby to fall asleep and stay asleep is to be a high witch or warlock with your sleep spell in good form).

No, this post is about promises, creativity, tests and even the universe.

When you make a promise, you are representing yourself. More specifically, you are repreenting youreself to the universe (more on that later). Remember: your word should be your bond.

Sometimes you have to be creative in order to keep the promise you made, and to honor your word. You are only as good as your word. After trying eleventeen times to put Raynor down and having him wake up shortly thereafter, I was ready to give in and just sleep with him. I felt bad that he kept waking up – he needs quality sleep. But I wanted to keep my 30-day challenge to blog once a day so…I have figured out a way of holding Raynor but still having two hands free to type. Probably because I am a sorceress and used a “hold baby” potion on him though.

No one said keeping your word would always be easy. This applies to the simple, everyday representations we make to each other (“I’ll be home at 7” or “I’ll see you at the potluck this weekend”) to the most important commitments we make in our lives (“till death do us part”). Rightly or wrongly, I think of challenges to our ability to keep our word as tests. It’s important to pass these tests because the end result is worth it. I’ll explain why.

The Universe
This is what I’ve learned: what you put out in the universe – your thoughts, words and actions – the universe will respond accordingly. If you can’t keep your word, don’t be surprised if this lack of commitment from others or even from yourself shows up elsewhere in your life. If you fail in your commitments regularly, how do you expect to succeed in your commitment to your goals in life? Everything is interconnected and the universe is just a reflection of you and your thoughts, words and actions. For example, if you keep thinking about how your baby is going to wake up, you will source this result. Even as I typed that last sentence Raynor stirred slightly and let out a small cry of protest.

Like it or not, this is the law of the universe. It is in place and affects all of us, even if you don’t believe in it. Just because you don’t believe in the law of gravity doesn’t mean you’re exempt from it. In the same sense, you can’t opt out of this.

Well, that was a totally different post I had initially imagined. Actually, I didn’t even have anything in mind. I just know I was so close in giving up blogging today because my baby wouldn’t sleep. With a little creativity and perseverance, I completed Day 7 of the 30 day challenge AND I have a sleeping baby in my arms. All too often I use my baby as an excuse to not do something I want to do.

What are your excuses?