Noah started crawling (and standing) a few weeks ago. At first, I thought it was cute (well, it still is), but very quickly I realized just how dangerous EVERYTHING is.

Don’t get me wrong, we baby-proofed the place, but corners on furniture seem sharper.

Drawers seem like death traps.

Carpet just isn’t soft enough.

And by gosh, STAIRS, STAIRS, STAIRS!

Every time he’d try to pull himself up, I was hovering to catch him. When he’d get close to, well, ANYTHING, my hand (foot, body and/or pillow) would be thrown against the offending object to protect him.

I think some of the incessant worry churning in the back of our brains is normal. However, the constant “what ifs” need to stop!

What if he bounces into the top of the table? What if he face plants into the basket? What if he bites a sharp spot on the (very baby-approved) toy and his mouth starts bleeding? What if he crawls at super-sonic speed, out of my reach, twenty feet away and around the corner and tumbles down the stairs? What if … What if … WHAT IF?!?!?! 

There’s not a chill pill big enough to help this.

I understand that things will happen, and most of the little things I won’t be able to prevent. Boys will be boys, and babies will be babies, after all.

While my overloaded brain is racing a million thoughts a second, my awesome outward self doesn’t project the anxiety I feel. Noah is still blissfully unaware that his mommy is (a little) crazy, and I like it that way.

What’s your biggest *little* fear as a parent? (as if any of them are little)

Hold a marker in my hand,
Watch the wrist move, brain understands.

Write it out, nice and slow,
Look at the pen just go, go, go!

Make a circle, loop-de-loo,
Drawing it out is so easy to do. 

Painted on flesh, the message is clear,
Don’t fall asleep when a sharpie is near!

Have you ever drawn on someone, or been drawn on?!

(yes, I’m bored, though I didn’t mark the gentleman above … I’m at work dreaming of drawing with my sharpies, though!)

weekends are my time to just kick back, relax, and say “EFF YOU, make-up!”

it’s not like I don’t shower or brush my hair, but why pile on the face when you’re lounging around with an infant. he loves me no matter what, and really, so do I.

girls: do you ever go without primping for the day? guys: do you mind if your girl doesn’t get all dolled up?

anyone on twitter? I started an account a few years ago, but never really got the hang of it. HOWEVER, I’m willing to give it another go. got any tips? I’m fine with it until people start RT’ing and mentioning other twittererererers … yeah.

share your name below, or follow my randomness: @barelyjen

A really awesome opportunity found me. I wasn’t looking for it, but now that it’s presented itself, it’s all I’ve been able to think about.

Today, I got a call telling me that it may not work out, and I’m crushed. I’m told there’s still a chance that it’ll work out, but I’m sure it’s slim.

I certainly didn’t need this, but I want it so much now. I put myself out there for it, and I think that’s why I’m so upset over it.  

What was that one thing that you really hoped for, but slipped through the cracks?

Everything has been going wrong since I woke up. I really need a do-over for today; one that won’t produce the same results.

First off, I miss my baby. It’s nice to get a break every now and then, but it’s been five days!

Work was shite. Do I really need to elaborate?

iTunes lost my $40 purchase (luckily they replaced it today, so that’s nice).

A watched pot never boils … I’ll elaborate on that later. In the meantime, know that my patience is wearing thin.

Oh, and apparently my grandfather may have cancer, which was told to me in a less than tactful way.

I could go on, but why sour your day, too?

Seriously, where’s the reset button?

Noah said “mama” for the first time to me yesterday. LOL, but the little shit waited until he was six hours away and on the phone with me to do it!

He’s been saying da-daa for over a month now. (Very indiscriminately, but husband’s proud anyway.) Whenever he’d go on a “da” kick, I’d talk “mama” back to him, figuring he’d absorb it at some point.

Anyway, so I’m talking to him last night, and he’s getting fussy because he can’t find me. (“mom, why are you in that little black box?!”) All of a sudden, a forlorn “ma-maa” pops out.

He cries, and so did I, but for different reasons. I love my little man.

I found these gladiator-style sandals at Macy’s this past weekend. I’m not really sure why I got them; they’re definitely not my normal style.

Sitting among heels, wedges and the latest fall boots, I guess these silly shoes were calling for me to take a fashion risk. And for 75% off, I could afford to.

Honestly, they’re so ugly, they’ve rounded the bend to awesome again. Leather throughout, I feel like someone found some extra belts and haphazardly wrapped them around my foot. (But in a cool way) Oh, and I sound like a Clydesdale when I walk, with all the jingle-jangling I’m doing.

What do you think of the shoes? Keeper or stinker?

Somewhere in the midst of getting pregnant, having the baby and, well, LIFE, I’ve been putting off a MUST DO: buying new bras.

I’m not going to lie, other than the occasional nursing bra earlier this year, or a half-hearted shopping attempt to get a new (read: ONE) brazier, it has been 3 1/2 years since I updated my “wardrobe”.

Why is that a big deal? Well, not only do you grow and change over time, but even the most delicate washing can screw up the bra’s integrity. That’s why experts suggest replacing bras every SIX MONTHS. WHAT?! Okay, “expert”, you gonna pay for it?

I don’t think I would have even gone now, to be honest, but my back has been killing me, the straps are hanging out more on my upper arm than my shoulder, not to mention, well, “thy cup runneth over”.

Armed with birthday cash, I was determined to stock up. Over two days, I became the proud owner of a gaggle of over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders. Getting there was not easy, but I made sure it wasn’t as frustrating as previous shopping excursions.

I have a very particular size; I’m not necessarily the biggest girl overall (though I’m not small), but I am definitely blessed (more like cursed). It’s usually not carried in normal department stores, and most stores you MIGHT find it in carry “old lady” bras. You know the ones; they triangulate the girls to a perfect (unnatural) point, with bottom bands that stretch for days, and more hook-and-eye closures than you have fingers. Soooo not hot.

Talking with my friend, she mentioned that Frederick’s of Hollywood carries larger sizes. Oooohhhh! Really?! Something remotely sexy? Tell me more! I looked at their site, saw they had my size, so we made the trek a few towns over … And all they had were black and beige in the size I needed. Where’s my red lace? I want something with color! Oh well. I went ahead and picked up a few anyway. I mean, it’s at LEAST got a cool corset-looking tie in the front, and they were comfy to boot.

BUT, the big win of the weekend was from Lane Bryant. The good ol’ LB has been doing well to update their style the past few years, gearing more toward the young, hip and chic (in addition to their “old lady” standards).

I went ahead and got a few different colors and styles, in a size that actually fits! (So THIS is what a bra is supposed to feel like?!) … And they’re kinda cute! … And not “old lady” looking! 

Finding yourself in need for a new “storage center” (the most interesting synonym I heard all weekend)? Here are a few tips: Continue reading →

love. this. face.