10 Signs You’re an “Old” Mommy.

Posted on April 4, 2013 by ashersmom

I had my kids a bit later in life than I planned. Would I have liked to have had them earlier? Maybe. But I’m oh-so-thankful to have been blessed with these little stinkers regardless of the fact that they were a little fashionably late to the party.

What’s weird about my experience being an “older” mom is this: I don’t think of myself as being any different from all the other moms at school pick-up, the zoo, the aquarium or anywhere else. I’m daft like that. I really, truly forget that I might look more “mature” than many of them. Maybe it’s my failing eyesight.

But then, while going about my business with a 1-year-old on my hip, someone will kindly decide it’s their job to remind me.

And so, from my experience (because a bunch of these things really happened to me), today I present 10 Signs You’re an “Old” Mommy.

1. When it’s your turn to check out at Target, the clerk takes one look at your 1-year-old and says, “You babysitting today?”

2. A little kid on the playground asks you if you’re “wise.” When queried as to why, she replies, “Because I think you’re old.”

3. You try to teach your kindergartner the “Running Man” and the “Roger Rabbit” for his Mother-Son Dance at school.

4. You’re exhausted all the time, even when you step out of bed in the morning. You could pack for a month-long trip to Europe with the bags under your eyes.

5. As you push your child along the sidewalk in his stroller, someone actually slows their vehicle, rolls the window down and says, “That’s your grandbaby, right?” When you reply, “No, he’s mine,” she frowns at you, continues to smack her gum, backhands a few of the kids in the backseat and says, “Oh, okaaaaay.”

6. Your ObGyn accepts your response of “oldness” as your birth control method even though he just pulled a baby out of your hoo-ha a year ago.

7. The next time you’re covering up your gray, you consider choosing the baby’s hair color so you can “match.”

8. When you hit your 2nd trimester and start to show, people begin to gently suggest you might have a stomach tumor instead of saying congratulations.

9. Your boobs are low enough for you to lay the baby in your lap while you breastfeed.

10. When you get pregnant, your father asks if it was on purpose and suggests you’ll be picking the baby up from middle school on your little rascal.

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Boob Men

Posted on March 21, 2012 by ashersmom

My lactating boobs are out-of-control big. Actually, big is just not enough of a word for ‘em.

They were BIG when I was pregnant (see The Top Ten Sucky Things About Being Pregnant.) Actually, they were more HUGE than BIG.

But since I’ve started producing milk, these things have entered a whole new stratosphere.

Now they’re more in the range of gargantuan.

They need their own zip code.

My mammaries are now, without exception, too large to fit into any bra in existence.

Trust me. I have scoured the internet.

No. Bra. In. Existence.

I’ve ordered and tried on every single one I thought might come close to containing these whoppers. Nary a one actually fit properly.

But a couple of them were an inch or so too big in the band and slightly too small in the cup, so I’m using those out of desperation. Short of trying to make my own undergarment out of a couple of big-girl girdles and some industrial strength, space-age elastic, they’re all I’ve got.

If you’re rolling your eyes right now and saying to yourself, “Stop bragging, Beeyotch,” let me assure you — I am not boasting about these things.

Smiling in his sleep, dreaming of coming home.

These things are way too big to be considered sexy or attractive.

Or even containable.

They’re just plain too much.

Even my husband — a self-professed boob man who heretofore thought there was no such thing as too-big boobs — even he says they’re too much.

Without fail, if he walks into a room while I’m changing clothes and gets a gander at them, he says “GOOD LORD!”

Every single time.

Even my 4-year-old is impressed by them.

Seemingly getting in early practice for his future Mardi Gras escapades, he says, “Let me see your boobies” almost every day.

And I can’t help but allow him to see them. Because they’re out constantly while I pump.

He looks at one boob and says, “WOW! Your boobie’s really big. Let me see the other boobie.”

Whereupon he just shifts his gaze to the other one. “WOW! Your other boobie’s really big too.”

This past Sunday, it was my NICU baby’s turn to get a load of them for the first time.

Whatever doc was on staff that day decided we should try to breast feed.

Keep in mind that Meyer is only 5 lbs, which is about what I’m guessing each one of my boobs weighs right now.

I shoved the nipple in his mouth and he opened his precious little eyes to behold a mountain of a breast that was at least twice the size of his own little head.

He looked bewildered and confused.

And kinda scared.

He knit his eyebrows together and laid there in my arms darting his eyes all over the place like, “What the hell? Is this thing going to eat me?”

I spent the entire 20 minutes we were trying to nurse absolutely belly laughing at the expression on his darling little confused face.

Meyer’s almost 37 weeks gestation now. If things had gone perfectly, he’d still be in my belly.

Instead, he’s already been traumatized by my boobies.

I feel pretty certain that, given what they’ve had to deal with as infants, my boys will have extreme views on racks. They’ll either love ‘em real, real big. Or they’ll prefer them as flat as they come.

Or maybe not.

Maybe they’ll go for something in between.

I know I would.

Top 10 Sucky Things About Being Married to a Pregnant Woman

Posted on December 22, 2011 by ashersmom

103

After I wrote one of my popular posts, The Top 10 Sucky Things About Being Pregnant, a very old friend, Mike McL, wrote me to say he’d had a strong reaction to my list. Such a strong reaction that he’d penned his own version – The Top Ten Sucky Things About Being Married To A Pregnant Woman.

I’d asked my own hubby if he wanted to write something similar and he was justifiably afraid to wade into those waters, especially given my extremely cranky and pregnant self at the time.

So since Mike bravely volunteered to give us the man’s side of this whole pregnancy thing, I thought I’d ~~throw him to the wolves~~ introduce him to my readers.

Just so you know, he must be deeply scarred because he was able to easily access all the sucky things about the other side, even though it’s been a few years for him.

So here it is.

And if you’re currently pregnant and this makes you weepy or irritable, take it out on your own husband. Mike is in hiding.

Top 10 Sucky Things About Being Married to a Pregnant Woman

1. Violent mood swings. Crazy as it seems, that beautiful and sexy woman you married has the strength and stamina of a hungry UFC fighter. During this time she wants things a certain way and if they don’t go her way, hell’s fury will rain down. During our first pregnancy, my wife asked me to vacuum the carpet on a Friday night. I got the vacuum out, but got busy doing something else. Sunday afternoon rolled around and I was parked in front of the TV set watching the Cowboys – vacuum still in the middle of the living room and carpet still untouched. She asked me again to vacuum the carpet. I told her I would after the game was over. The skies started turning black, the wind picked up, and Psycho music started playing. This should’ve tipped me off to what was going to happen next. My beautiful, pregnant bride easily picked up the upright vacuum cleaner with one hand, threw it across the room at me and screamed, “VACUUM THE &%#$*@ CARPET!!!”. She ran out of the room crying and I sat there saying things to myself like “I will be damned someone throws a vacuum cleaner at me and gets away with it,” “Who does she think she is?!?!?”, and “I am married to a crazy bitch!”. Then I vacuumed the carpet for the next 30 minutes.

2. Breastfeeding class. Yep, like many expecting dads I got conned into attending a breastfeeding class on a Saturday, in the fall, during COLLEGE FOOTBALL season. Now, I like boobs as much as the next guy, but come on! 8 hours of instruction and video on how to use these things? I don’t even have them but they seem pretty simple to operate to me. One dad in the class was even asking questions about how his wife should treat her cracked and sore nipples.

3. Compliments that aren’t taken like compliments. Don’t make the mistake of even responding when your wife complains about her body during this period. Just act like you don’t hear it. Any “compliment” you can provide her to make her feel better will be taken out of context and placed in the same category as a quote from Bin Laden. A warning from my personal experience – when walking through the mall, be sure to avoid the trap of “Do I look as pregnant as her?”. The best thing to do in that case is run aimlessly through the mall screaming that your balls are on fire – much less traumatic for you.

4. Baby showers. One of the biggest whips there is. Nothing like going to a party (usually scheduled during a much-anticipated sporting event) with a bunch of people you don’t know, giving you a bunch of shit you could care less about, and NO ALCOHOL to make it all better. Brutal. And you have to sit there and open all the “gifts” and smile like you got the most precious nugget of gold or best bottle of bourbon which incidentally is NOT what you got. And the stories being told – find your happy place and quick. By the third kid, I was like Rain Man at these things.

5. Attending doctor’s visits. It’s something you have to do, but I always felt perverted sitting around a bunch of pregnant woman with my pregnant wife waiting for the scheduled doctor visit (that was an hour late). Then the doctor sits with you for five minutes, tells you everything looks good, and charges your insurance with a full informational office visit.

6. Thinking up a name. Seriously?! Can’t these things be assigned by the government or something? You think for hours on end about what to name this little person that will eventually grow up and tell you that you don’t know shit and sneak your alcohol when you aren’t around, only for you (or someone else) to “change” their name once they appear in this world. My youngest is named Andrew Dalton. The first minute I held him I called him AD. He has been AD ever since and even his friends call him AD. People in the stands at his sporting events call him AD. He signs his papers AD. Someone once asked me how Andrew was doing and I asked, “Who the hell is that?”. I used to practice yelling out the names we discussed in our back yard. If I sounded like a dumb ass, I would push like hell not to pick this name. “Honey, did you see that some dude named Cameron shot 7 people in Dallas then kicked a puppy while he ran from police?”

7. Weird food cravings. Yes, we think it’s fine that you crave hotdogs dipped in Kool-Aid powder, but that doesn’t mean WE want to eat that shit too. And don’t act like our double-meat, double-cheese burger is the most disgusting thing you have ever seen and that you can’t stand the smell of it so we need to eat it somewhere other than the location you are in.

8. Sex. I know this is an easy one, but it has to be listed. We love you very much but contrary to what everyone says there truly is something creepy about doing that whole “thing” with your sweet, precious, unborn infant just a few inches from the nasty probe that caused this whole mess. And the more kids you have, the further you — and sex — slide down the importance scale. By the third kid, I was approximately the 7th priority after the kids, the dogs, and a couple of nice sweaters.

9. Boobs. The good news – this is the coolest thing about a woman’s pregnancy – you get a free preview of what a huge porn star boob job would look like on your wife. The bad news – you can look but don’t touch. Why must God make them so sore at the same time he made them so big? The really bad news is that these beautiful things are for some little runt that won’t even appreciate them and their greatness. Oh, and afterwards, they go away — far, far away.

10. Nightmares. I’m not sure if everyone’s pregnant woman has these but mine would scream at 3am like she was an extra on the Blair Witch Project. I’m not talking a “normal” scream — more of a 30 second guttural, deep throat, building in crescendo, to the point the dogs are flinging themselves under the bed in panic, that pops you straight up from a dead sleep with your heart pounding like you just finished a 400 yard dash and thinking that Jason has just walked into your bedroom with a machete in one hand and a severed head in the other. Only to have her wake up and tell YOU to “BE QUIET! I’M TRYING TO SLEEP, DAMMIT!” Just roll over, Beethoven!

Now go read The Top 10 Sucky Things About Being Pregnant and The Top 10 Sucky Things about Being Pregnant, The Sequel (which I guess makes it the Top 20 Sucky Things about Being Pregnant. And oh yeah, there definitely are at least 20….

Want more “What He Said,” by Mike? Check out 10 Signs Your Wife Is Too Comfortable with You, Why The Bachelor is Bullshit and 8 Reasons It’s Better To Be A Guy Than A Girl .

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I can think of something else pretty sucky. You not voting for me. That would be sucky. Just click below to show how non-sucky you are.