You Know You're A Mom When . . . #2

The biggest S.O.B. you have been dealing with lately is that Silly Old Bear aka Winnie the Pooh. 

And I have no complaints about that! He is so wise, and so quotable.

"It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like 'What about lunch?'" 

-Winnie the Pooh/A.A. Milne

Willoughby Wallaby WHAT?!

Poppin bottles of every kind. Photo credit: My husband.

Cade is heavy into Raffi these days. So heavy that when the CD ends, he immediately requests that we "Start it over please, Mama!" I am a Raffi fan gal myself (from so far back I can still hear that familiar crackling sound of the vinyl mixed with the strangely mesmerizing timbre of Raffi's voice, and trusty guitar), so who am I to deny my first born the gift of "Singable Songs for the Very Young"? Plus, anything to give "Call Me Maybe" or "I'm Glad You Came" a much needed break from their constant rotation (C did NOT get the memo that this is the summer of 2013, NOT 2012). But, as always, I digress.

Yesterday, while playing a serious game of Lightening McQueen meets Thomas (I've decided it's his live action equivalent to The Jetsons Meet the Flintstones), he started singing the Raffi classic "Willoughby Wallaby". He rhymed Wenny with Jenny and remembered Wennis went with Dennis, and then came time to rhyme Woosen with Susan. But my 3-year-old son could not remember Woosen. So, he went to his ever expanding arsenal of vocabulary, pulled out the one word that would make most people shudder with disapproval (Raffi included) and belted out: "Willoughby Wallaby BOOZIN', an elephant sat on Susan."

While I am confident that the word has been used in my home, and that my echo (aka Cade) has heard it quite recently, it could have also just been C being C and "making up" a word that rhymed and worked for him in the moment. Either way, I laughed. I laughed because it could always be worse. It could have been "Willoughby Wallaby Trucker" that he had to find a rhyme for. And I REALLY don't want to pull him out of preschool before it even starts.

Are You There Blog?

It's me, Marja.

It has been exactly one year since my last post. Unacceptable but unavoidable because life happened. Literally.

Within the month of August 2012, my hubby and I were thrilled to find out I was expecting baby #2. And then, just like that (*snaps fingers*), my body betrayed me and the Hyperemesis gravidarum reared its ugly head (much more severely this time around) and set up shop for the long haul. I was sick my entire pregnancy (but thank you for some relief, Zofran!). On the days the meds worked, I thought about pulling out the laptop and getting back in touch with my creative side. Alas, they never worked THAT well. I was far too nauseous, barfy, and all around exhausted to do anything beyond taking care of Cade (thank you, Disney movies!). And that even became difficult on many occasions (thank you for making the trip so often to help, Mom!). That is the super short version. Ahhh, the miracle of life.

Of course it was ALL worth it. My wonderful husband picked up the slack everywhere (thank you, David!) and our adorable, amazing, wide-eyed, and super smiley second son, Kellan, joined the party in April. He arrived a little over one month early but I delivered him via successful VBAC (*high fives everyone in the vicinity*). Although he has had some unfortunate ailments to overcome since then, he is growing bigger and stronger every day and we are SO in love with the missing piece to our family. Cade is a sweet and loving big brother and so smart and funny and . . . (I'll save it for future blosts). We are blessed.

So it's not like I have been neglecting my writing on purpose. It just became less and less of a priority as Cade got older and we got busier and then it wasn't a priority at all . . . until now. Because I miss it. I need it. Writing challenges me, gets my synapses firing, AND is something I love. All in very different ways than motherhood challenges me and uses my brain. Plus, it's an amazing way to vent, share, keep in touch, and work through things. We all have "our thing". This is mine.

I love being a stay at home mom but having a second baby seriously steps things up a notch. It is HARD and it is WORK and I want to be doing it but I don't want to lose myself IN it. This week I reached a point where I realized that if I don't create some me time away from my kids, the line between "want to" and "have to" will become blurred and I don't ever want that to happen. So I NEED to be writing. Whether it's once a day, once a week, or once a month. Whether or not anyone besides my husband (I love you!) grandmother (thank you, Nomi!) or dear friends (#imbackbabies #blessyourhearts) ever reads it.  

Mama needs this. But, more importantly, Marja needs this. It feels good to be back.

Hair Affair

I have big hair.

Those of you who know me personally can vouch for this fact; those that don't will just have to take my word for it. If it helps to convince you, one of my nicknames in high school was Mufasa. I literally woke up one day during my 12th year on planet Earth and had curly hair ("Thanks, puberty!" *sarcastic thumbs up*). For years I waged a losing battle against Mother Nature, doing everything I could to tame the mane, and keep the curl out. That included an ill advised chemical straightening, long before the art had been perfected, that left me with Barbie hairs (translation: super short strands all along my part, where the rest of it was singed off).

Flat irons didn't exist until I was a sophomore in college so I actually used a curling iron to straighten my hair. Long story short (and yes, most of my stories are long so you're lucking out here), I have never been able to trust just ANY hair stylist to care for my coiffure. For the last 9 years or so I have embraced my naturally curly hair and that's how it stays most of the time. However, whenever I can scrounge up the time, I LOVE to blow it out and iron it until it's stick straight (cut to me making crazy googly eyes).

My point?

When it's time to get my "do" done, I need someone who can give me a versatile cut, that can be worn curly AND straight. And after years of spending serious cash to find the right person for that daunting task, I took a chance on an affordable neighborhood hair salon (where my husband, who is, shall we say, rather persnickety about how his tresses are trimmed, goes), and hit the jackpot! The lovely young stylist who cuts my hair now does a SUPER job and handles my hair even better than the last one who cut it and charged me four, yes, four times as much. It just goes to show me, and you, that there are ways to look and feel good without spending a lot of dough!

Your turn! Please share your bargain secrets in the comment section below. Where are you are able to "cut" corners (I know, SO punny!) and save a few bucks in the beauty department . . . and beyond?

You Know You're A Mom When . . .

You find yourself repurposing song lyrics from sweet 90s jams to convince your son to eat dinner.

For example, Blackstreet's "No Diggity" recently morphed into MamaMarja's "Hot Diggity (Dog)" and is pretty much me repeating my homemade chorus over and over; which goes a little something like this:

"I like the way you cook it (hot diggity)
I got to eat it up
I like the way you cook it (hot diggity)
I got to eat it up"

My remix does no justice to the original, included below for your listening enjoyment, but Cade always seems to appreciate dinner and a free show.