Category Archives: Parenting

A change we can believe in

Like most of the things I care about in this world, I’ve been neglecting my blog lately. Which I don’t want to do, because a couple of weeks go by, then I think “Oh gawd, so much has happened, anything I post is going to be long and rambling and stupid, so I’ll just wait until I have time to do a recap” and then the next thing you know, it’s been 6 months and I’m full of shame and have to quit the internet.

Anyway, even though I haven’t had a super good post ever lately, my blog has been on my mind like always. Paul and I are working together on a full-blown redesign and relaunch of Domestic Disturbia, and I am STOKED. I am ready to put my blog out there with the big dogs and get as famous as, um, all those other totally famous bloggers who are so famous I don’t even have to name them. You know who you are.

The new and improved site is going to be not just my place to rant about how bad I suck at everything I do. It’s going to be more personal, more humorous, have more features and look really freaking awesome (it is the BEST to be married to an amazing web designer). So we are brainstorming and scouring the whole entire internet 24/7 for ideas to copy inspire us, and my little brain is just bursting at the seams with the things I want to include on the new site.

For my faithful followers, I’d love to hear from you, too. What are things that make you read a blog? What makes you come back time and again? What DON’T you like on a blog? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

I know we are all super busy and tired during the holidays, so hopefully this is the right time to be a slacker. Stick around, it will be worth it, I promise!



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Birthday boredom

In 12 days, I’ll be 34. Blah. I don’t really care about the number. I feel anywhere from 16 to 76 most days, so being officially another year older doesn’t really change anything about my life.

Normally, I make a pretty big deal about my birthday. Yea, I’m obnoxious about it, but why shouldn’t I be? Why isn’t everyone obnoxious about their birthday? It’s the ONE day a year that is all about YOU. Anniversaries have to be shared. Holidays are celebrated by everyone. But unless you are a twin (or triplet. Or a Gosselin), your birthday is YOUR day. I say make the most of it.

I’m not totally selfish. I try to make the most of others birthdays, too, if they want me to. For years, I did the exact opposite of what Paul wanted to do for his birthday, all in the spirit of celebrating him! Finally, I realized that he wasn’t being humble when he said he didn’t want a party — or any more surprise parties… whoops — and didn’t throw him one this year, but it hurt. Not that his birthday is about me…

Anywho. Maybe it’s from being an only child (ok, most likely it’s from being an only child), but I’ve always liked to do something really fun for my birthday. The fact that it’s 3 days before Christmas makes it more challenging, but I’ve never used it as an excuse. People always say “Aw, it must suck to have a Christmas birthday… do you hate it?” Hell no, I don’t hate it. I love it.

As a child, at least in my experience, having a holiday birthday heightens the excitement. All the decorations, all the music and lights… those all mean my birthday is coming! Well, mine AND Jesus’s, but his celebration is covered. It adds to the build up and the experience. There is a rule, though, for holiday birthdays, no matter the holiday. Unless the child specifies, do NOT group the two together! Do NOT wrap my birthday present in Christmas paper. I wouldn’t do that for you if your birthday was in, say, March. (I don’t wrap presents, actually, so regardless of when your birthday is, your present would be in gift bag from Walgreens.) So just because a person has a birthday on or near Christmas, Halloween, Easter, Thanksgiving, or any other holiday with a decorative theme, does NOT mean you get to get a two-fer out of the deal. So don’t even go there.

This is all kinds of wrong.

I have to say, though, as much as I love birthdays, namely my own, I’m just not feeling it this year. Paul keeps asking me what I want to do, and I keep changing my mind. Part of me wants to gather up my friends and hit the town for dinner and drinks in nice clothes (nice clothes = no baby food stains or nursing bra). Part of me wants to have a nice dinner out with just Paul. Part of me wants to get together with some friends and family and the kids and hit up a cheap and early dinner. And still another part of me wants to just stay in, order take out and eat cupcakes.

I’m not down in the dumps about my birthday, things are just so much HARDER now. A night on the town means a sitter, my mom, typically, which is fine except I like to celebrate with my mom. And anybody else that would be a sitter, I’d probably rather them be with us. Plus, a night out on the town means a late (late for us, which isn’t that late) night, which means a tired mommy and daddy the next day, which kinda sucks.

If we go out with our friends and our kids, it would be an early night, which is a good thing, but it would also probably be a giant damn mess, and nobody would be able to carry on a conversation because there’d be 87 kids dropping food and needing to go potty and the waitress would hate us and none of the women would get to eat (you know it’s true) and it would be annoying.

A date night out with Paul is always awesome, but for birthdays, I like to celebrate with a crowd typically.

So then there’s a fun night in. I can con Paul into picking up dinner and doing the dishes, I’d spend the evening with my short list of fave people, and it would be no fuss, no muss. But is that exciting enough? Sigh. I’m ridiculous.

What’s a girl to do? I dunno. Maybe I should say screw it, and go to Vegas with 30 of my closest friends, family and kids, hire a nanny, get the “Rainman suite” and call it a day. Who’s in?


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It’s time.

It has now been over a year since my last blog. Which sucks. Because over the course of this past year, I’ve decided that writing is what I really really REALLY want to do. But I haven’t done it.

That’s not entirely true. I’ve done some. My stint as an occasional “community columnist” with News Sentinel comes to a close this Sunday. I’ve written a column once every 6-8 weeks or so, and that has been fun. I’ve enjoyed the feedback (bad and good) and want really badly to continue doing something like that on a larger and more frequent scale.

And here, I’ve got this perfect platform already established. I’ve already got a snazzy logo and blog name. I have people telling me they actually enjoy what I write (if you are lying, I’m totally fine with that). I waste time every night doing nothing on the computer, so why don’t I click over here and just DO IT, for god’s sake?

I dunno. Scared to commit? Probably. I know the kind of things I want to write about. I think in “blogspeak” all the time. I think I’m afraid of either being too honest/out there/annoying or being not special enough. Being one more mommy blogger who thinks she’s bad ass because of her “different” view of things.

I don’t want to just make more noise. I want to say something. I want to be heard. I want people to laugh, to think, to get mad, to share.

None of those things can happen if I never write. So now that Simon is more consistent with his bed time and I have some downtime during the night, I’m recommitting to this little piece of internet real estate that has my name on it.

It’s time.

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First day on the new job

So my first day on the job has come and gone, and it went well. Although I really can’t say I didn’t know what to expect, it’s not like Declan is a day old or anything, and I only worked 2-3 days a week out of the house before now. So I guess I should say my first day in my now full-time job is done.

But of course, I wasn’t prepared at all, at least not in the ways I was hoping to be.

See, I have a whole plan of action for my new life. More like a mission.

My mission includes:

  • learn precise time management so that I can accomplish something other than finishing my coffee and watching Lifetime
  • I want to bathe at least every other day ( if you aren’t a mom, you may think that is gross. If you are a mom, you know that is industrious. Notice I did not mention leg-shaving. One step at a time, folks)
  • dress myself in something matching (matching PJ sets do not count)
  • complete at least 2 chores outside of errands and cooking (put toys away, make bed, clean toilet, etc.)
  • cook dinner most nights
  • retain some sanity

I know I didn’t mention anything about Declan, but that’s because he’s taken care of. I don’t have to prioritize his needs, they are always met, period. With the exception of good sleep. My No. 1 most-desired, yet most-difficult goal is to teach my child to sleep. He hates sleep, and since he is otherwise the happiest baby I’ve ever seen, I’ve always been ok with it. I don’t buy into hardcore sleep training; I think babies are either good sleepers or bad sleepers. I know there are things I can do to make it better for him, and I’m working on that, but I’m really kinda holding out for him to turn 1 and just magically start sleeping. I know, stupid. Since 7:30 tonight, he’s been up more times than I can count. But he also refused to take an afternoon nap despite an hour of trying. He didn’t cry for an hour, he just stared at me or, his latest, laughed at me when I laid him down. Nice. The kid can be barely conscious and when I lay him in his crib, and suddenly I’m the funniest thing since Elmo. Which is surprisingly annoying, but I digress.

Part of my mission is also to save lots and lots of money since I am no longer employed. So my strategy to accomplish that, and also the cooking (since Paul is warily handing that duty over to me), is to meal plan at least weekly, if not monthly, and become a coupon fanatic. I’ve signed up for and plan on spending a good amount of time each Sunday looking through cookbooks, making a very succinct grocery list and then scouring the site for every coupon possible. I then will plan multiple grocery store trips, if necessary, to make sure I save, save, save! Luckily, there are a few grocery stores very near by, so wasting gas shouldn’t be an issue.

So for the past week, I’ve been mentally preparing myself for Sunday, even telling Paul, “OK, be ready to be on baby duty for awhile, I gotta work!!!”

And then Sunday morning, about 1 a.m., I’m hugging the toilet. No, I didn’t have a wild night. I had a stomach bug. Luckily, it only held on for a few hours, but I took some prescription anti-nausea medicine and slept until noon, got up, brushed my teeth, had some water and went back to sleep until 3 p.m. I was back in bed by 10 and slept until Declan needed a paci at 4:30 a.m.

So I did not accomplish any of my missions, but I am the most rested I’ve been since he was conceived, so that has to count for something.

Luckily, a friend of mine from gave me a heads up that Krogers is having a huge sale on Luvs, so my time spent wasting time online today wasn’t for nothing!

So tomorrow is Day 2 on the job, and I’m no more prepared than I was today. But I’ll get around to it one day, when none of us are sick, I haven’t been up all night, I don’t have to make an emergency run for diapers/wipes/formula/aspirin, and I’ve got a few hours to kill.

2016 is just around the corner, right?


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Just a note

My layout for my soon-to-be-famous blog is not yet complete, so please disregard the unrelated array of books across the top of the page. Thanks.

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Changing careers


As the first day of 2009 comes to a close, I am facing the unknown. I’m recently 31, living at my parents’ house with my husband and baby, have no job and no prospects. In other words, things are looking GREAT. And by great, I mean completely my worst nightmare.

What started out as a great way to save some money after welcoming Declan into our family has now become a storyline on “Reba.” Or possible the entire premise of “Reba,” I’m not sure. I don’t watch it, I just catch commericals in between “Golden Girls” and “Will and Grace” episodes on Lifetime (I try to bypass “Frasier,” it bores me). Paul and I gave up our little condo over the summer to move into the monster home my mom and stepdad decided on a whim to buy a couple of years ago as a way for us to save money and probably for them to justify the purchase. And so far, it’s been nice. We have tons of space, Declan is spoiled rotten and we’ve actually paid down some bills while I’ve worked part time in a job I LOVED. And then 2 weeks before Christmas, I became victim to the shit economy and backwards tax plan of the fine State of Tennessee and was told that my contract was not being renewed. I feel confident that could be a plot line on some sitcom, but I’m too pissed about it to find the humor.

So while I’m waiting on my unemployment benefits to (hopefully) kick in, I’ve decided to dump my brain on the internet and hope somebody wants to pay me for my insights. Crazier things have happened, right? I mean, “Reba” is still on the air, and I know I’m funnier than that crap.

So here’s where it begins. I’m now a stay-at-home-mom in my parents’ house who is going to try and justify my addiction to the Internet as a career in writing. I’m trying to be proactive and positive, because I have never desired to be a SAHM (get used to some lingo, I gotta work fast), whether I’m in my own home or not. I wouldn’t exactly call myself domestic. I would actually call myself pretty lazy and very spoiled. There, I said it. Paul enjoys cooking, so he does most of it. And by most of it, I mean I’ve made Bisquick biscuits a time or two and I have a mean chicken pot pie recipe I break out occasionally, but that’s about it. He also does the laundry. And cleans the cat litter. And vacuums. Seriously, I am really lazy. But I do the grunt work with Declan, which I guess is a trade off, but it sure doesn’t seem that way when you type it out. But I promised Paul that while I’m on the doll, I will take over ALL domestic duties. And I’m going to clip coupons and meal plan and anything else I can to make up for my meager but still relevant missing salary.

And that’s going to be the focus of my blog. A 31-year-old intellectual snob with a precious child and wonderful husband who suddenly has to earn her keep. I’m going to throw myself into the world of domestic bliss and I’m going to do it 100%. And when I fail, which I predict will be often, especially at first, I’m going to lay it out here for the world to read.

Starting tomorrow, my career begins again. I now get to focus all my attention on my precious Declan and my ever-patient Paul, which is a role I know many women would give anything to attain. I am giving up my life as a working mom to enlist in the ranks of the Domestic Goddesses, a title I’ve never desired but will wear with pride. As long as I don’t have to iron a uniform. I really don’t iron.


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