Maybe I can buy a potty that looks like an ExerSaucer…

Don’t you just love it when you’re halfway through changing a diaper when your little one remembers that he has feet and they are DELICIOUS!

om nom nom

om nom nom

Makes it a tad challenging to complete the task at hand. (Enjoy it while you can, kiddo – mommy can barely touch her toes.)

Speaking of diapers (and, by proxy, poop): My son has recently developed a fondness for pooping while in his exersaucer. He is in for a rude awakening when he learns that you don’t poop while standing in the real world.

Can you give me a sec, mom?

Can you give me a sec, mom?


OCG: A Mom Disorder for the 21st Century

It started one evening with some eye discharge and a slight fever. By morning, his eye was so swollen he could barely open it. And so, after much deliberation with myself, I made the call to his pediatrician and brought my little cyclops in.

It is an issue that I have spent much (too much) time stressing over: When is it “legit” to call your pediatrician?

I always swore I would not be the mom who frantically calls her pediatrician ten times a day at the first sign of sniffles. And while I thought I had succeeded in avoiding this stereotype, I realized I had merely modernized it. I am a mom with a wicked case of OCG: obsessive compulsive Googling.

I have been afflicted with OCG since early in university, when I realized the wealth of quasi-accurate facts and diverse opinion that was at my fingertips. It started innocent enough – a quick check to see the name of so-and-so who played what’s his face in that movie. It grew into a need to check facts and disprove people in arguments. But during pregnancy, I found I was constantly checking to see if what I was experiencing was “normal”. And when the munchkin was born, I began checking to see if everything he was experiencing was normal. Unfortunately, this habit spawned a minor case of hypochondria along the way. I Googled when I thought his legs were too curved. I Googled when i thought he spat up too much. I Googled every time his poop colour and consistency changed (my pre-baby self never dreamed that I would ever study and ponder my child’s poop). I am the crazy pediatrician-calling mom of the 21st century.

So in the end, the doctor checked out little E and diagnosed him with a “minor viral infection” (the next day, when he woke up crusted in his own snot I realized “minor viral infection” was doctor code for “nasty cold”). And while I felt stupid and cliche the next day for bringing my baby in for a cold, there was a certain peace of mind I got out of it that no amount of Googling can ever really replace.

Oh dear god, what have I done?!?

Childbirth:  many new moms will regale you with glorious tales of the first moment they laid eyes upon their new baby.  Some will tell you they instanly fell in love with the wriggling babe placed upon their breast.  Others will tell you they felt a great sense of connection to the sisterhood of women through the shared experience of childbirth.  As such, this is what I expected in those first moments as I stared into my little one’s eyes and he stared back into mine.  Instead, the first thought that entered my mind was:

Oh dear god, what have I done?

Once I recovered from the initial shock of having literally pushed a tiny human out of my body while my husband looked on, I was overcome by the terrifying notion that I had no clue what to do next.  Before I became pregnant, I was petrified of babies (and they were none too fond of me either).  I had changed one diaper in my life (in high school…and I wore rubber gloves…I wish I was joking…).  Somewhere in those nine months, all those crazy hormones made me forget that I was a totally newbie and made me believe in the power of instinct.  But at that moment, as we stared at each other for the first time, I felt like a stage actress who didn’t know her lines.

Maybe instinct does kick in for some women.  Maybe some fall instantly in love.  However, I do not believe that I am alone; and while I can now nurse like a pro (while eating, texting, and watching tv) and change a dirty poopy diaper in under a minute, I am still learning and evolving as I go.  And so, I invite you to join me as I take on this whole “mom” thing.

Make sure you bring extra baby wipes.