I love birth control.

I began this morning optimistic about my first trip to the gynecologist with a 2-year-old and a 2 month old. 

I thought, "I see kids in the waiting room all the time, and they seem to be well behaved, what's the worst that could happen?"

Ohhh Sofia. You and your optimism. You need to stay where you are most comfortable- in a dark cloud of negativity. Yeah, that's it.

I got the kids ready and in the car without a hitch- smooth sailing. 

We get inside, Landon is sleeping, and Avery is LOUDLY sweetly saying adorable things like, 

"Doctor is going to take Mama's temper-chirp (temperature)?" 

and 

"No shots for Avery. This Mama's doctor."

I think,"We can do this. We'll be in and out."

Then the receptionist informs me that "all the doctors are in delivery" and explains it's going to be a bit longer than I had anticipated.

I look at my well-behaved angels and agree to wait, it's going very well.

Another 2- maybe 3- year- old comes in and Avery immediately latches on to the poor little girl. She goes off into a corner with the ripped kids' books and 7-year-old issues of Highlights and I sit back and wait while feeling quite content in response to the behavior of my children.

I overhear a 30-something hot mess of a mom tell another equally terrifying mom how she likes to flick her son in the mouth when he talks back and how when she gives him a "spankin'" he laughs at her because he's such a brat. She goes on to explain how her husband had to give him THREE "spankins" until he agreed that it hurt. Because he's such a brat. (?!)

"No wonder her kid is a brat," I think, "his mom is an idiot." 

Then I glance over at my "much better-raised" daughter. She is throwing a book on the ground telling the little girl to "get it". Over and over. 

Awesome.

After a half hour or so of emptying the candy out of my purse and baby bag (at 9am) to get Avery away from further verbally abusing the little girl, we get called back.

All three of us go into the examining room which has the square footage of a Pop Tart. I, as instructed, undress from the waist down. 

Doctor comes in, Landon starts screaming as a result of starvation, Avery starts to lose it due to boredom. 

Doctor says, "You can hold the baby if you would like."

I thank her and agree to do so -- before I had realized that I'm going to have to walk across the room with no pants on and bend over to unbuckle and take him out of his car seat in front of the doctor. So, yeah, I did that and prayed to god no one was going to walk into the room while I bent over, bare-assed, while fiddling with the seat straps.

After the very disturbing couple minutes of soft porn I had just performed for the doctor, I lay down on the table and put my feet in the stirrups while I held Landon upright on my stomach. Avery then exclaims, "DRUMS!!!" and starts to pound on the biohazard trash can. 

I nervously laugh and apologize and the doctor begins to insert my IUD (SO I DON'T GET PREGNANT ANYMORE) while I beg and plead with Avery to relax. 

Then I hear a, "Mama's feet dirty! Yuck!"

and

"I have to go poo poo!"

and an extra loud, "I see Mama's pee pee!" 

I cringe and apologize and pray to everything ever to make the minutes go by quicker than usual. 

Thennnnnn I hear "I'm gonna lick your toe!" followed by, well, my toe being licked. (Extra awful because I couldn't see who was doing it-the doctor or Avery. Kidding.)

Anyway, we made it out alive and basically I have to change doctors now.

They sure are cute.... 

... but I'm cool on having anymore for a whiiiile. 

I love you IUD. <3

I ignore my daughter

We went out on Friday night again. 

Like, to a club. Like, tons-uh vodka. 

Got home at 2, and my mom left (didn't know that would happen), then I had to wake up at 3 to feed the baby, then both kids woke up at 530 because they are trying to destroy me.

As Troy was sleeping in, I notified him of the unfair situation at hand to which he replied,

"I got home at 2 am! Im so tired."

Liiiiikkkee I ddiiddnn'tttt?!!!!

Anyway, he's off the hook because he let me go to a kid-free husband-free happy hour on Sunday night and he woke up to feed this little guy at 1:30 last night. Love him.

GAHHHHH HE'S SO PERFFFFFF

So needless to say, I'm glad this month is almost over. ONE more party- (In LA on Saturday) and then we are back to boring normal.

Anywhoooo, what this post was really supposed to be about was ignoring my daughter (which, interestingly, is what I'm doing right now and every time I update this blog). 

I mean, it's not intentional, and I hate it, but it is necessary at times when I need to change my Facebook status while Lan-man is in need. 

Thankfully she is at an age when she can start to exercise her independence. I've started to document the things she does when I'm on the phone tending to my two-month-old.

1.

She plays with cleaning products.

2.

 

She scares the shit out of me by putting Landon-esque babies in his car seat so that I have a heart attack and think I've left him in a car seat all day.

3.

She tells me "I have to pump" and attempts to express breast-milk from her belly button.

4.

She dresses herself in snow boots, a beanie, and glow-in-the-dark

skeleton pajamas.

Side Note: It is hilarious to see a full-bodied skeleton of neon bones try to sneak in your bed in the middle of the night. If you have a nighttime bed-drifter, I highly suggest glow-in-the-dark pajamas. 

5.

Observe lonely emo photo sesh:

Poor thing.

I feel so bad. I know what it's like to feel left out, so I try my hardest to include her at all times, it's got to be so hard for a sensitive little girl's world to be turned upside-down by a new baby. 

I'm working on it, it will get better with time hopefully.

Happy Tuesdayyyy

Starvation Documentation

Fasting.

Sucks.

I started on Monday, lasted until the middle of yesterday, had some vegetable broth for lunch, then Chef Troyardee made corned beef and cabbage for dinner sooooo I ate some of it and felt like I swallowed an entire can of soup. Like, including can. 

Pain. 

Taking it easy today.

I thought I'd document the crazy things that fasting makes me do. 

Evidence as follows:

1.

 I allow Avery to dress herself for Gymboree. Note: Tutu with skinny jeans.

2.

I go to the grocery store and buy a completely inappropriate amount of potato chips (as a result of starvation-induced inability to make normal decisions).

3.

Get my hair colored super blonde-ish and then take a Myspace-esque bathroom shot.

4.

I have no energy to hold Sweet Baby Boy to feed him myself so I took the pillows off his swing and rig an Auto-Mom so I could sit on the couch and fantasize about food.

5.

I allow Avery to eat lunch like this.

Fun Fun Fun. Going out tonight again! Can't wait.

I'm sure I'll have regretful stories about our belligerent night to share tomorrow.

Happy weekend! 

Muhahahaha

It's amazing to me what levels of fucked-upness I will stoop to with my two-year-old in order to get things done.

My iPhone is a life saver to distract Avery. She knows how to watch videos and play games and stream Barney on Netflix. Sure, she loves to get into my Words with Friends and forfeit my games because it makes me cry, but it's worth it. 

Its the best thing ever ever ever. She especially loves interactive games, and especially loves Roby the Robot. Roby dances and repeats what you say in a creepy robotic voice and she loves him. 

Roby really came through today when I discovered that you could type a message for him to repeat in afore-mentioned creepy robotic voice.  

Perrrrrfect to trick an illiterate toddler into thinking the cool dancing robot is giving her orders instead of Mrs. Lame Boringmommypants (that's me). 

Watch and Learn:

  

Muhahaha the power!

In other news, I am still fasting. Felt pretty good this morning, nearly chewed on my steering wheel driving home from Gymboree, and am kinda just existing right now. 

Only 3 and a half more days... I can do it!

It's Valentine's Day and I cheated. Oops.

Note to self: Don't allow newly potty trained two year old to wipe herself and then sit on your lap with no pants on- you WILL end up with skid marks on your leggings.

Ugghhh hate my liiifffeee.

Nah. Actually I don't. 

Mr. Valentines-day-is-a-waste-of-time-and-money surprised me (Mrs. Get-me-stuff-or-I'll-assume-that-you-are-having-an-affair) with beauuuutiful roses this morning! And a VERY thoughtful card! Made me so happyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!

In other news, Valentine's Day is the worst... 

possible day to start a fast.

Chocolates galore, people posting pictures on facebook of the gourmet meals they are eating, and my husband making parmesan crusted pork chops with roasted fingerling potatoes for what should have been "us"-  torture.

I'm doing the "lemonade" cleanse, which I've done before, and the first couple days fricken suck. You know, the lemon juice + cayenne pepper + maple syrup + FML drink. I'm doing it until Friday. We'll see how that goes. I started this morning, so basically haven't had food in 24 hours.

I'm so hungry I could eat my baby right now. He's seriously sitting in his swing at this moment rocking back and forth, and looks like a glazed ham.

 So, because I like to inflict pain on myself, I went to lunch with my husband, and our children, and his parents today. I watched while my family ate french fries and cheeseburgers and wraps and chicken fingers. I barely talked for fear that opening my mouth would result in me shoveling something (ANYTHING!) edible into my face. 

And because my father-in-law eats slower than any human being on the planet, we ended up staying longer than I had anticipated, which meant Landon (the 2 month old) needed to eat, and Avery (the 2 year old) was up way past her nap time. I braced myself for the car ride home which would surely include all three of us melting down.

"Thank god," I thought, "for the cupcake."

My in-laws bought Avery a little cupcake for the ride home, which I thought might distract her from contributing to the shit show that was about to go down in my car. Unfortunately for Starvingpants (that's me) she didn't want anything to do with the delicious dessert (for which I would have sold my soul to eat).

  Here's a quick peek into my car at a stoplight: 

Note: What the hell kind of two year old screams "I CAAANN'TT!!!" while holding a cupcake? So strange.

Anyway, after I finished recording this, I reached out to my cupcake-traumatized toddler, who put the sinful treat in my hand. 

And that was the moment when time and sound froze.  I could hear no more screaming. I could feel no more immense children-induced stress.

The frosting had gotten on my finger. 

I knew the only option I had was to lick it off. I considered other routes, like wiping it on the seat, or pulling over to get a wipe out of the diaper bag, but no. I had to eat it.

So I did. 

I almost ate my finger along with it.

Whatever, I cheated. I didn't have a choice. 

Happy Valentine's Day, lovers. Tomorrow should be easier-- stay tuned........

Ohhh Troy.

So. We did it.

We went out.

Barely lasted until 12:30, drank enough liquor to offend David Hasselhoff, and hated our lives all day today. 

Like, what happened? How old are we? I don't even remember how we got home. Well, I kinda remember- we took a taxi and I remember Troy chattin' up the cabby in the drunkest, grossest conversation.

Example:

What Troy Thinks He Sounds Like: "Hey man, how'd you get into the business? I'm having an excellent time getting to know you!"

What Troy Actually Sounds Like: "Heyyyyyy fs;oiaoigoiej ssssssluring mmmyy wordss"

Me: "zzzzzzzz"

(You know what I just realized? I don't at all understand why sleeping is represented by "z"s. No one actually says "zzzzz" while they sleep.  It's really dumb. Like, how grape-flavored candy never actually taste like grapes, it just tastes like grape-flavored candy. Doesn't make sense.) 

Anyway, yeah, we got wasted. It was gross and not cute and I hate myself. Shots? Really? After 9 months of complete sobriety, you really think something called a "breakfast shot" is a good idea? Times six? At one point, Troy disappeared and returned with a ear-to-ear smile and a free glass of whiskey that was given to him as a result of the whiskey tasting he had just been selected to do. Again-- really?

After what was supposed to be a full night of restful sleep away from the kids, but was actually just a couple hours of completely blacking out, Troy was supposed to meet a friend at 8 to go to an all-day rugby tournament and I needed to pick up our children. 

I felt for him.

 If he felt anything like I did, he was entirely socially retarded and any interaction with human beings would be extremely painful and awkward. We both stood up, begged one another to go downstairs and get water, laid back down and fell back asleep. 

At around 10, we got back up, still pleading and begging and bargaining with each other to go downstairs and get water. This is when Troy informed me that I was missing an earring because he tried to be sexy and kiss my ear which resulted in him drunkenly biting the earring clear off my head and almost choking on it. (Awesome)

Somehow we made it to pick up my car, and I made it to my mom's (the much-better suited caretaker of our children for the previous night).  I stayed with her all day, and, though shakey and nauseated, I played puzzles with our two year old even though I needed to lie down,  and rubbed our newborn's back while he screamed with gas pains all while the sound of his cry jostled my brain. 

"At least," I thought, "I'm not Troy right now, he must be having a really tough time out in the world right now."

Six hours later, and I drove my daughter and a screaming, hungry baby home while my head throbbed and rang and I think internally bled, all while thinking, "Gosh. Poor Troy. I hope he's doing okay. He hasn't even answered my texts, he must be really hurting."

As I turned into our driveway, I was relieved to see Troy's truck. I thought, "I bet he just got home. Poor thing."

Then I hauled my kids inside, where a freshly showered and completely rested Troy informs me that he had been sleeping all day and feels "soooooooooooo much better". 

Again- I want fucking diamonds or Louboutins or something crazy for Valentine's Day. 

Ohhh Troy. You're lucky I appreciate good blogging material....

A night (or three) off and the sexy dream girl

MY MOM IS TAKING THE KIDS ALL NIGHT TONIGHT! HOORAY!

She is in town for two weeks and is taking the kids THIS Friday, NEXT Friday, AANNNDDD my mother-in-law is taking them overnight the Saturday after that so we can go to a party in LA! OMGGGGGGGGGGGG

My mom lives between Mexico, Idaho, and here throughout the year, and I'm pretty sure she feels guilty about living here but not "living" here while I am losing my shit taking care of two young children, so she offered to give us some time to feed our alcoholism.

 Troy and I need a full night off. Let me re-phrase: I need a full night off. Usually we get a couple hours off (don't get me wrong- MUCH appreciated), then consume as much alcohol as humanly possible within said couple hours off, then I am not able to comfortably sleep off my drunkenness because I still have to tend to a newborn every 3-4 hours. Which sucks. 

I can't tell you how exciting this is. I mean, the most thrilling thing I've done all week is pee in the guest bathroom. A night without constantly tending to people who aren't myself is just crazy talk. I'm into it. I like it.

On another note, Valentine's Day is coming up. I'm not sure how I feel about this "holiday". My intellectual side (7% of Sofia) tells me, "Stupid. It's just another day where florists and Hallmark make a shit ton of money off of dumb people." 

My sensitive, insecure, girl side (93% of Sofia) tells me, "Ok. Here's the deal. If Troy doesn't get you anything again he is clearly having an affair or hates you or both. Seriously, no chocolates = cry about it" 

And as I'm getting older my intellectual side in terms of this issue is winning over. I mean, Troy does a bajillion wonderful things for me and our children. Why would him not getting me flowers indicate that he doesn't care about me? How ridiculous. Doing everything he can to provide a comfortable life of us while working extra hard so I don't have to have a job is definitely the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me. And we get along 99% of the time, and I know that takes a lot of love from him because I'm really annoying a lot. So, that's that. 

I was feeling really confident in my newfound maturity of letting Valentine's Day "go" until Landon's 3:00 am feeding last night. Here's what happened:

Troy talking in his sleep: "Hey beautiful. Put that down and come over here." 

Ok. Now, I am not upset that he was dreaming about another person. It really doesn't bother me- it's not like I've never dreamt about other guys before. I have. Jake Gyllenhaal mostly but who's counting. And plus, you can't really control what you dream about soooo how could I hold that against him?

The thing that pissed me off was that I knew he wasn't dreaming about me because he addressed sexy dream girl with "Hey beautiful". 

Soooo now I really want flowers. Something with a diamond in it wouldn't hurt either. Just sayin'.

Have a great weekend!

hot messiness + me = always

I'm certain if Hell exists, my own personal Hell will include me being banished to fitting comforters inside of duvet covers and folding fitted sheets for all of eternity. There is no goddamn way to fold a goddamn fitted sheet.

Sooooo, seven weeks postpartum and I still have 15 lbs left to lose. I hate HATE feeling frumpy. And I adore being a mother, but I don't want to look like a "mom". I don't even want to be a cougar, or puma, or lion, or tiger, or bear oh my!,  I just want to be a smokin' hot 25 year old with bangles and a pedicure and high heels who- surprise!- has kids.

And, for the record, I can't even wear high heels anymore without walking like a newborn baby giraffe.

I'm not sure if I should blame Vegas, my age, or my vanity, but I REALLY miss feeling "done". Like, hair done, nails done, eyebrows done, toenails done, boobs freshly "done" before they took a Thelma and Louise-esque jump off a cliff. Unfortunately all of that wonderfulness costs money and takes time. Both of which are better suited for more important things. Like holding babies who don't like to be put down and making pretend roast beef sandwiches with pretend pretzels on them one... million... times... a... day.

Gay. 

And not the good kind of "gay" that wants to go to a drag show with you either. (Love drag shows- Husband-man went with me once after hours of begging and vowed never to go back due to the doorless bathroom entry. Sad.)

So. to partially remedy this situation, I've calculated that the thinner I am, the more likely I am that people will be able to overlook my hot messiness. Like, "ew, she has spit-up on her sh-- Look at her ass! hot."And if you've read some previous posts, I've been on and off the BOD diet, and have recently started going to the gym again. 

I love going to the gym. The only difference between working out pre- and post- babies is what "pumps me up". I used to listen to Britney Spears, now I watch Ina Garten slather chocolate icing upon a 40 lb chocolate cake.

Evidence:

(I freaking love you, Ina!!)

And just to clarify, I am not saying I dislike being a mom- it's the best thing ever and I loooove my little monkies and all that comes with caring for them-- I am just grieving the loss of the time I once had to groom my ego. I love you narcissism. I miss you. Kisses.

Have a good Thurrrrrsday! Starting the "lemonade diet" next week with my mom. Hopefully blogging through it will help me stick to it! 

Things I've learned about motherhood...

Soooooooo, mothering is kinda a "learn as you go" type of lifestyle. 

These are some of the things I have learned in different areas of parenthood via picture interpretation:

1. Potty Training

Potty training is way more bearable when the whole family gets involved. Even the littlest ones. Avery calls on everyone to watch her poop and pee- including both dogs, Troy, the baby, and me. If you come over, chances are you're going to have to watch her too. Sorry.

2. Laundry

I've learned that getting the two-year-old excited to help me with things is waaaay more do-able than trying to restrain her to TV or activity while I scramble to complete the task at hand. Granted, a LOT more patience is necessary- it takes four times as long to empty the dryer, but it gets done (I mean- what else would I be doing anyway...). 

And plus, she is hilarious. I mean, who demands an oven mitt to unload Daddy's "hot panties"?! Awesome. 

3. Head Injuries 

Happen. All. The. Time.

4. Picky Eating in Toddlers

Two-year-olds apparently eat like birds for 3 days and then binge on spaghetti. (Kinda like Mommy-

 PS. I have looked exactly like this- like, recently)

5. Alcohol and Motherhood

.... is a necessary combination. Love when the cork has a message after a loooong day of being unappreciated. Good LORD you learn to be thankful for your own mommy after you have your own children. Unfortunately, I realize that this indescribable appreciation will only be paid back to me when my own kids have kids- it's cool though. Wine and vodka and beer will tide me over until then.

Happy Tuesday, yo. Tell your mom you love her today. No. Seriously. 

awkward beer family photos dot com

I can legitimately not get a good picture of my children together. 

Let's take a look at the evidence, shall we?

1.

2.

3.

aaaaand 4. (my personal favorite)

We're working on it.

In other news, ummm nothing.

I think I'm going to start to dedicate a day to Averyisms, because that kid says some funny ish. Some of it I'm not so sure I want to share on here- she is a sponge and repeats everything we say- good and bad. A couple months ago, she walked out into the garage at nighttime on our way out of the house, and said, "SHIT, it's dark!"

 Not my proudest moment as a parent, but secretly one of my favorites... no worries, Mom, she hasn't repeated the "s" word since...

 Also, I can never tell if Christina Aguilera is fat or not. It's really been bugging me lately. Does anyone have a verdict on this?

BYE!