DAY THREE, SATURDAY Part One: They Vacuum Carpets, Don't They? The baby's breakfast consisted of a couple handfuls of swag bag fruit puffs tossed on the floor of the hotel room. Part Two: It Takes A Village I once again attempted to attend an actual panel at the actual conference that I had paid actual money for -- this time with the Vaginally Challenged Men of Blogher. When I walked in, Ezra was asleep, but oh, no, that did not last very long at all. Luckily, there were plenty of women around us willing to offer us various forms of baby-amusement: toys from their swag bags, handfuls of Quaker cereal, their noses. The first time he squawked an emphatic "EEEEEEEHHHHHHHHAAAAA," it was funny, and all the faces that spun around to stare at us were sympathetic and amused. By the third or fourth time, not so much, and when I caught a definite glare of "ENTITLED MOMMYBLOGGER" from a few rows up, we got up and left. Which was a shame, because it was a good panel, except that apparently NO ONE on that panel was sleeping with ANYONE in the audience, except for like, THEIR WIFE, or whatever. Booooring!... Read more →


DAY TWO, FRIDAY Part One: I've Made A Huge Mistake Of Bluthian Proportions The next morning Jodi texted me and offered to sneak the baby and I into the Club Level for the free breakfast. I wrote back that I wasn't showered yet, but then decided that I didn't really care, and went up anyway, only to immediately bump into a crew of immaculately coiffed and professionally dressed women from MomCentral. Stacy DeBroff fed Ezra a banana while I blearily caffeinated myself and by my third sip my brain suddenly turned on and I realized that I was out in public -- at a professional blogging conference, where people take pictures and blog and stuff -- in pajama bottoms and no makeup and gross oily hair. And my nipples were showing through my nursing tank. I ate a croissant and fled. Part Two: All Better Down at the actual conference, I learned that with Ezra in the Ergo's back-carry position, my hands were truly free to carry both a cup of coffee AND a complimentary bloody mary. I started meeting people and recognizing people and being recognized by other people, reuniting with Linda, fangirling at Alexa, awkwardly screaming after Kate... Read more →


(Wow. So I originally planned to write about the entire conference in one post. HOURS AGO, I planned that. HOURS, I have been writing this and it really gets away from me at the end and I think I use the word "community" in a totally unironic sense and basically I'm going to publish this and write more tomorrow, because now I have to go punch myself in the neck.) DAY ONE, THURSDAY Part One: Not Off To A Real Brain-Trust-Like Start I woke up at...oh, 4 A.M. in a dread pirate panic over things I had forgotten to pack. I should point out that I was still at home. And had many, many hours left before my flight to pack these things. No matter, I clearly needed to get out of bed and pack them RIGHT THAT SECOND, or ALL WOULD BE LOST. If a blogger goes to Blogher without her business cards, is she really at there? Does she cease to exist? These are the deep thoughts I had at 4:30 A.M. when I found out that not one, but BOTH of my babysitting leads had fallen through, and that I didn't have a confirmed sitter for the... Read more →


Conclusion to Amy Takes Her Foot-in-Mouth Show On the Road: Holy awkward SHITBALLS, people. She walked by me this morning and didn't even LOOK at me. And then picked her son up EARLY this afternoon. Probably just to avoid me, because I am sure I made that much of an impression and there couldn't possibly be any other explanation, like a doctor's appointment or a vacation or...okay, there are possibly a few other explanations. But me and my mad social skillz remain suspicious. Suspicious and lonely and very glad we were both too lazy to follow-through on the cookie idea. Over the last few weeks I've read more than a smattering of blog entries addressing the whole "are we done having babies" question. A good number of them were written by women with babies somewhere around Ezra's age. And they of course got me thinking about writing a similar entry, because I haven't had an original thought bash around my skull since at least 2004. (Unless you include the thing with the talking deodorants. Then I am a national treasure of useless creative vision.) A few weeks after Ezra was born, I tentatively said something to Jason about the topic.... Read more →


I'd Say Something About REALLY Needing This Vacation...

...if only I didn't have to take my beloved rotten children with me. (Alternate Title: My Own Unintentional Personal Testimony to Bad Mothering) SCENE, YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, ABOUT 24 HOURS AFTER I WARNED JASON ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF NOT PUTTING THE BABY TO BED IN JUST A DIAPER, AS HE'S BEEN GETTING A LITTLE GRABBY WITH THE VELCRO TABS ON HIS SUPER-FANCY CLOTH DIAPERS, AND ABOUT TWO HOURS AFTER I PUT HIM DOWN FOR A NAP WEARING ONLY A TOO-SMALL DISPOSABLE DIAPER BECAUSE I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE RETRIEVING A SUPER-FANCY CLOTH DIAPER FROM THE DRYER ALL THE WAY DOWNSTAAAAAIRS WAAAAHHHH I'M TIRED I heard Ezra stirring in his crib and I went immediately to collect him waited until he sounded good and mad before getting up off the couch. I walked into his room. His diaper was off. There was...oh my God. Everything. Both. Everywhere. The sheets were soaked in three distinct places. And the...yeah. All over the sheets, the crib, THE BABY. The baby who lifted his head and beamed ear-to-ear when he saw his loving fucking horrified mother and that's when I saw the poop all over his FACE and immediately rushed over to rescue the poor thing from... Read more →


Yeah, so. Shut up. We saw Rent AGAIN on Friday night. Again-again. Those tickets have been on my (non-working, asshole) refrigerator since CHRISTMAS, and I was excited. I got dressed up, complete with cleavage and a sparkly headband that I later decided looked more like a tiara. This was not a decision I was proud of. There was regret about the headband, is what I am saying. And as anyone who has experienced headband-related regret knows, you cannot just undo a headband once you've committed to a headband, because of the hair dent. Dent rhymes with Rent! You know, sometimes I start writing stuff without any idea of where the topic is going to take me, without any real grasp on the entry's structure or conclusion, and sometimes it just works out anyway. Other times...no. *** We took the boys to see Up on Saturday. I was a little worried about it, honestly, since I'd read some reviews that mentioned scary packs of dogs and we're STILL kind of dealing with the fallout from 101 Dalmations, which shattered Noah's innocence with the necessary truth that sometimes dogs bite, and that sometimes they bite your butt. Thank you, Disney, for that.... Read more →


(This fucking economy, man. Hollywood is HUNGRY.) So last night I had the distinct privilege of being Linda's plus-one for the big! red blue carpet! premiere! of Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian. (The PR team in charge of the outing: "You have a blog too? That's adorable!") This is how we do big fancy movie premieres in DC, you guys: Port-o-potties as far as the eye could see. As we pulled up in our glamorous stretch limo short bus in front of the Air & Space Museum and a huge crowd of people who had apparently not figured out that the celebrities were already inside, I could barely contain my excitement and sudden terror about tripping on the bus steps and falling flat on my face. I did not fall down, which meant it was now time for the descent into increasingly embarrassing fameball douche behavior. "Smile, people in crowd who don't have tickets to get in! We're posting these on our MOMMYBLOGS!" (I cannot lie, though. Linda. Sundry! Seriously just as funny and wicked and potty-mouthed as you imagine, or at least desperately hope. Port-o-potty-mouthed. Between her sailorspeak and my tendency to worry out loud over... Read more →


(Photo-heavy post warning. Click below or skip it completely. It's like your very own Matrix blue pill/red pill conundrum!) We kept trying to call the stuffing "bread" and the cranberry sauce "jelly" and the cauliflower gratin "macaroni and cheese" and the turkey "the flesh of thine enemies" but Noah would have none of it. None of any of it. He did eat a slice of apple crumb pie. The next morning. For breakfast. You would think we have a lot of leftovers still in the fridge, but we actually don't. What can I say? I do good work, people. I also know how to really capture the spirit and mood of the day in photographs. Clearly. (Was only photographed in his swing because OH MY GOD, HE'S IN HIS SWING AND NOT SCREAMING. Jason suggested I hold him for the above photos, to which I responded: ARE YOU HIGH, HE'S IN HIS SWING AND NOT SCREAMING.) (Was also very almost accidentally mistaken for some sausage and sauteed with butter and mixed into the stuffing.) And now, the Seemingly Required Noah and Ezra Hugging As If They Liked Each Other Or Something Photo Of The Day: And now, some bonus outtakes.... Read more →


Oh my God, yesterday's post. I'm sorry. I fully own up to the fact that the last paragraph in particular got COMPLETELY away from me, with the dramatics and the...well, the dramatics. I went out to lunch with my nursing bra unhooked and I posted on my blog with my mommy guilt showing. Same diff. Kind of. Look, I plead sleep deprivation, both for the entry and that metaphor there. So I was rehashing the entry a few hours later while nursing the baby (That's what I do while I breastfeed. I think about my blog. And drool. And hallucinate that I'm awake, lying in bed and breastfeeding, only I'm kind of asleep? Because I don't think there's a swimming pool in my bedroom?), and I blearily did the math that November minus June equals...five months. Five months without speech or occupational therapy. Even in the accelerated life of a toddler, five months is not (NEWSFLASH) really that long, or (NEWSFUCKINGFLASH) the end of the world. So now I'm embarrassed about the whole "I LET MY CHILD DOWWWWN! I FAAAAAAIL!" tone I veered into, but grateful for all your lovely and reassuring comments, and sorry that I made y'all feel... Read more →


NOT FUNNY

So I think I've officially lost my sense of humor about this whole House of Doom and Germs and Fluids Leaking From Everybody's Headholes thing. Perhaps I left it at the pediatrician's office this morning. Perhaps I'll call and see if anyone has noticed the smell of death coming from their Lost & Found. Today's photo, if I chose to illustrate our plight, which I won't, because it's fucking disgusting, would feature the red oozing eyes of both Noah AND HIS MOTHER, who are sporting matching cases of pinkeye. Noah is also covered in a horrible itchy rash, which I initially brushed off as a run-of-the-mill viral rash, but now appears to be an allergic reaction to -- get this -- the Method Baby detergent I bought for Ezra's clothes. We typically use the Seventh Generation Free & Clear detergent for Noah's clothes, and YES I KNOW, I don't need special baby detergent, but that Method stuff smells so damn good I was helpless to resist it. (Seriously. That shit will make you LACTATE, it's so baby-fresh-delicious.) But my mother-in-law took control of the laundry this week and actually did laundry so often that she was able to COMBINE Noah's... Read more →