Backwards N High Heels

Balancing work and play while wearing many hats (I mean heels).

When You Give A Two-Year Old A Mini Shopping Cart

My hometown’s grocery store recently closed and reopened under a new franchise brand. The change brought about a reorganized produce section, complete with some organics, better pricing (my opinion) and a great perks program (again, my opinion). But, by far, the greatest addition is the kid-sized grocery carts. (INSERT – Complete sarcasm! HERE)

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I thought I was the cool mom. I thought she was the disciplined child. I learned that those two things really do not go hand in hand.

Here is what happens when you give a near two-year old their own personal kid grocery cart.

It all started with her big eyed gasp, that seriously gets me every single time. How could I resist? She spotted the little shopping cart and reached out her hands, little fingers erect, nearly leaving my arms. Then with her little voice, “Mommy, cart, Mommy, cart.” There was a smile on my face. “I got this!” No, “We got this!” I thought proudly to myself.

Looking back now, there were other adults starring at me. Eyeing me up. I am sure they were all thinking the same thing… “What a cool Mom. Great Mom.”

Ahh, who am I kidding? They were secretly judging me. “Just you wait!” They all probably smirked.

But, she was so cute, cruising through the produce. “Mommy, orange,” she yelled. “Nana.” (That is banana talk, folks).

I think the first item in her cart was a pack of blueberries, then a yellow pepper, then said Nanas.

“Follow Mommy.” I would sweetly proclaim and smile at other shoppers. As if my smile and nod was really communication to cue them to look at my sweetheart.

The frozen foods were next. As she slowly lagged behind me, I scanned the freezers while constantly looking back. My concentration and meal planning game was totally off, but hey, I needed a “few” things.

As we made the turn, I noticed the produce guy hauling the empty cart up the aisle behind us. “Watch where you are going,” I softly encouraged her, smiling at the gentleman who did not return my sincere gesture. Nah, instead he sighed, looking around his cart, knowing he could easily take her out. There was no, “She is cute,” or mere awe from him. More like disdain and I felt it then, he was thinking, “Who the hell invented these things?”

We avoided a mid-aisle collision and rounded the end cap to the chips. Lo started to grab items. Up until this point, things were too high or behind freezer doors, but now they were just a hand away. “No,” starting to be said.

“I don’t think so. We don’t need that. Come on, Lo. No.” All the discipline started to come out, but she was still so darn cute. All disheveled and grimy from the day, pushing her cart. Ya, know, just like, her Mom. I got out my phone. I videoed her. Posted it to Instagram, then SnapChat. She was a bit more confident with the cart and I was still the cool Mom.

We scanned the next aisle and encountered an enthusiastic shopper. “Oh, would you look at her!” The happy lady said to her husband as he picked through the brats (actually I don’t know if that is what he was looking at in the meat section, but it sounds good now). He turned, holding his brats and chuckled, “Are you shopping young Lady?”

Of course, Lo replied, “Yesh!” (Not yes. It is Yesh!) I smiled back. THIS is what I was talking about and what I was envisioned in my head when we first spotted the cart in the front of the store. A happy Mommy / Daughter night.

I was growing in confidence too. I added some soup cans to her buggy as we made the turn to the next aisle revealing… more canned goods. Before I knew it she had beets, spam and tuna in her cart. Ya, know, typical items a two-year old desires! I secretly removed them, returning them to the shelf when she would turn her back. Half way up the aisle I realized… she was starting to take control. She started running. Grabbing a canned good here, grabbing one there. Actually she could no longer push the buggy. Well she could but she was exercising the same exertion I do, when I am loaded down and sliding into the check out lane.

“Why don’t we take a break form the buggy and you ride in Mommy’s cart I asked?” Surprisingly, she obliged. I transferred the items from her cart to mine, loaded her in the front, left the child’s cart in the aisle and went on my merry way. So, I thought…

Once the cart was out of sight, the meltdown began. Screaming, crying, tantrum status in the SODA section. Just like a shaken bottle of pop, there Lo was erupting. I tried shhhing her. I tried distraction. I talked about McDonald’s. I actually thought about aborting the whole damn mission. “But you have come so far!!” I mentally told myself. “You are right I have!” I mentally replied.

She was screaming! Clinging to my neck, looking into my eyes. Oh damn, we were deep. I started sweating. Like full on drench mode, as I passed Captain Crunch and Tony the Tiger. If they could talk, I was no longer the cool Mom. I was what-the-heck-did-you-do-to-your-child-Mom.

Then there were other children. A distraction to Lo. And, an end display of Beanie Babies. Who knew they made these anymore? I took her out of the shopping cart (BIG MISTAKE). I let her play with the toys to calm down. I grabbed some items quickly, we made the turn and then we each saw it… three children pushing mini shopping carts. I repeat pushing MINI SHOPPING CARTS. She freaked! She wanted one, had to have one, and then in the open she spotted the one I had abandoned mere moments earlier, sitting there alone and she took off. Full run through the meat section. I had a choice. I chose chase. I left my cart, my purse, wide open I might add and went after her. By the time I grabbed her arm, she grabbed the cart. I was defeated. I succumbed. “Fine. Push the damn cart!” I yelled. People looked at me. I was Mean Mom.

My cart was untouched. No one stole my snacks and my purse remained in the front seat. Wallet still intact.

At this point just wanted to hurry up and get the hell out of the store, while my mini shopper followed in tow.

As we made it through the dairy aisle I became a Bully Mom. “Come on, Lo. Hurry up. No. Pay attention. Stop that. Don’t touch that!” I felt like a jerk since I set this whole thing up. When she spotted the Popsicles, I felt like I HAD to buy them for her for the mere subtle sorry for the trouble I caused. I allowed her to put them in her buggy then hurried her along.

As we eyed the check out lanes, the finish line in sight. I snagged this picture.

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She had actually opened the box, while she followed behind me and was two-seconds from eating one. I quickly threw the Popsicles in my cart. And drug her, her cart, my cart and all of her tears and screams to the open check out lane. Yes, for an open check out lane.

I ditched her mini shopping cart. I wanted to drop kick it or shove it as hard as I could into the nearby wall. Instead, I mildly pushed it aside.

When I thought I was home free, when I thought I had suppressed her anger and even my own, with gummies (fair trade-off for a Popsicle), the kind couple from aisle #3 appeared. You know, the ones who encouraged me, who made me feel like the Cool Mom, she heard my daughter’s squeals and thought now would be a great time to interact a bit more. She reach for the Snow white balloon in the check out lane and presented it to my daughter. I now realized I needed the mini shopping cart to run it into her heel. No, I am kidding, kidding. HaHa. But, I did want to ask her if she wanted to babysit my screaming daughter, while I peeled the balloon from her fingers.

We checked out. I spent more money than I planned. I actually had no idea what I even bought until I unpacked at home. And, I drove us straight to McDonald’s for our evening dinner. I was too exhausted to cook.

Then another fight broke out between the two of us in the fast food lane as I asked her if she wanted chicken nuggets and she started screaming and crying for pancakes and sausages. I thought I had lost all hope. But then a heavenly angel came through and spoke to me , using the drive-thru speaker as her medium and asked – “Welcome to McDonald’s. Breakfast Menu or Dinner Menu?” The light shined at the end of a long tunnel and I ordered breakfast for dinner.

Thank you, McDonald’s for the win!!  I will take the all-day breakfast idea over the mini shopping carts any day.

The end!

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Sunday Morning and Poison Control

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This past Sunday morning started out like most. Pajamas and coffee in bed. A little bed head toddler beauty squished in between us for morning snuggles and sausage thawing in the refrigerator, awaiting the pitter-patter of our feet as we make a break from beneath the warmth of our bed covers to rise with the sun to start a new day. Where did I lose you? I lost myself at sausage. Cause’ Lord knows I forget to thaw meat out and then scramble by placing it in a scalding bowl of hot water and praying to the thawing Gods.

This is the morning I envisioned in my mind pre-baby and still even living crazy Sunday after crazy Sunday, envision will miraculously occur.

Picture perfect none the less. The real Sunday went a little something like this.

  • Lo fought me to go down Saturday. Our fault. We missed her mark and paid royally. Let me go back a bit further and explain that Friday night I finally got the new bed sheets on the bed that I purchased on Thursday. We only had the real joy of sleeping on them, Friday night. Lo decided Saturday morning was the morning and a good time to pee in our bed. Not even 10 hours on our mattress, I stripped the bed, yet again, to rewash the new sheets. So, by Saturday night when the clock struck 10 pm and my wired toddler poked me in the eye balls and flopped around like a fish out of water, I carried her into her own crib and crashed hard. On the bed with our missing fitted sheet. When Nathan finally awoke from the couch and pulled back the comforter at midnight, I knew he was tired too as he did not even bulk at the sheet-less situation
  • By 6:45 am on Sunday, Lo was calling out our names. We convinced her the “sky was not awake” (Frozen reference since she is slightly obsessed) and were able to convince her to give us about 30 more minutes of laying in bed time. Notice I did not say sleeping or even cuddling. 30 extra minutes to lay in bed.
  • Eventually, she crawled over my body and onto the floor and stood at the foot of the bed so we could only see her eyes, forehead and hair and repeatedly yelled,”Down. Down. Down.” Until we got out of bed.
  • At this point we caused our own chaos with an hour and a half until church. I skipped the breakfast ritual and opted for cinnamon rolls only to discover an odd oozing liquid that seeped out and onto the baking sheet. Realizing we were passed the expiration, I reluctantly tossed them. I say reluctant, because I Googled – Can you eat Cinnamon Rolls pass their expiration date? and then figured stomach cramps weren’t my thing. That morning we ate oatmeal and berries. I know, we are great people. Eating healthy as our last resource. I literally told Nathan, “It takes no food in the house to eat well.”
  • Lo hates showers and baths when the timing is right and when they are necessary but is obsessed when you have 40 minutes to get yourself and everyone out the door. So, after a quick shower, she was bathed, dried and dressed for church.
  • I let her play in our spare bedroom, which houses my childhood Barbie dream house that is now hers, while Nathan and I rushed around getting dressed, gathering an offering and packing her diaper bag. I believe I was semi-curling my hair when I heard Nathan call out my name. When I walked in the room our daughter was laying in the bedroom closet, against a pile of debris (otherwise known as junk you don’t know where else to put so you shove in a closet) and just starring at us red faced and weird. Yes, weird. “What is wrong with her?” Nathan asked. She was coherent. She kicked me when I approached, so I assumed all was well and I scooped her up, checked her over and then placed her back on the floor.
  • Minutes later when we returned to check on her. She had returned to the closet, squatting in the doorway. This time her face was red and she was blotchy. Nathan went to grab her and instead picked up a bottle of wood clue that he found beside her. “She is eating wood glue, Ashli!” He yelled. Of course I silently freaked out.
  • At this point, church had started 5 minutes ago. And, maybe we should have been there praying we were better, more observant parents. Nathan rushed to his phone to call someone for advice and I scanned the bottle for the words – “toxic.” Which I could not find. So, I grabbed my phone and Googled – Toddler ate wood glue – and then I slightly chuckled and then I got mad at myself for laughing at what could be a serious situation, because at this point, how the hell did I know?
  • Detective mode kicked in and I squeezed the bottle. I could not even get the wood glue out of the half dry rotted bottle so how could she? Then, at the same time, Nathan and I realized, she ate the hardened glue the gathered at the opening. You know, when you last use glue and it collectively gathers.
  • Once my Google search screen loaded, Poison Control’s number was the first thing I saw, so I dialed. And, to my surprise a nice lady answered quickly, “Poison Control, how may I assist you today.” Lo continued to lay across from me in the closet, starring at me, pushing me away as I reached for her, saying, “No, Mommy, go.” At this point a smell filled the closet air and I realized her red, blotchy face wasn’t from the wood glue.
  • Distracted by the whole situation, I answered, “Hi, umm yes…” I literally did not know what to say so I blurted it out, “my daughter ate wood glue. Is she going to be okay?” Now Lo was refusing eye contact.
  • The lady was so sweet and professional and asked me if she was choking or coughing or showing any symptoms and I actually said, “She is being quiet and starring at me.”  Omitting the redness and blotches which I at this point knew had nothing to do with the wood glue. The kind lady actually chuckled. Then I explained that I was sure it was not actually glue but the remnants of glue that hardened onto the cap. She reassured me she would be fine, even double checking the “site.” She warned the worse would be she may experience a stomach ache or be bound up but to give her some water and she would be just fine.
  • I felt relieved. Slightly embarrassed but so thankful for that number, which is 1-800-222-1222, by the way. Write it down!!
  • When Nathan returned to the room, I was hanging up the phone, and picking up my daughter. “What did they say?” he asked.”Oh, she will be just fine! The only toxins we have to worry about are in her diaper.”

We missed church. We changed into comfy clothes and I changed Lo’s diaper. Lo returned to her Barbies and I hid the wood glue. I Googled – When so you start potty training a toddler? I learned Lo is definitely showing the ready signs. I still think Lo ate some wood glue and I posted Poison Control’s number on our refrigerator.

The end!

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Not All Days Are Easy

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Not all days are easy. Actually, most are not. As I sit here writing this, I am donning the same PJ pants I had on the night my water broke with Lo. Eww! Gross. Yeah, I assume that is what you are thinking. I mean I probably would have too pre-baby but then again that was pre-baby. Amniotic fluid, totally washes out of clothes! Same as vomit, poop and pee that will inevitably cover your child’s clothes or blankets at one point, multi-times in their life and even your own. Anyways, back to the pants, they were and are my favorite. How the heck was I to know my water would break in them? I didn’t! I washed them, I kept them, moving on.

I am cranky. Lack of sleep. Always lack of sleep. Overwhelming work. Pending and never ending deadlines, a new hire, a looming move. Soon-to-be two-year old with a raging personality. Pushing buttons. Meltdowns and hyperactive mixed with a headstrong personality. Equally busy husband. End of season deadlines and the pressures of being a small business owner. And, for complete shits and giggles (as the old saying goes) dealing with a late appliance delivery.  A refrigerator too, which requires you to empty and clean your old, and clean and load your new. All of the above.

I am drinking a glass of wine. Chilled and served in a Stella chalice (P.S. – I hate Stella in a chalice. Just give me the bottle). I swore I would not drink tonight but then everything I discussed above happened in real life and I decided, ahh what the hell. I digress.

Not all days are easy. Most are exhausting. I am just being real. Not trying to complain or whine, but instead just painting a picture of a realistic day in a blogging mom’s life. My life. Sometimes I feel like social media paired with a Blogger is all white walls, fashion, highly stylized shots and picturesque days. That is not me. That is not my family. That is not my Blog. I stand for being raw and real and sharing aspects of my life, motherhood, parenting, adulting, with you all that hopefully you can relate with. My intention behind – Backwards N High Heels was to paint a picture. Not necessarily a pretty picture by a world renowned artist but instead a finger painting by me!

So, this post tonight is just to serve as a reminder to you, that I am real and to remind me that… I am real. Not all days are easy! Some require your favorite PJ’s that you just exploited to all and that chilled glass of wine! Heck, I made it through another day. That is a success and blessing. Cheers, friends!

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10 Things Two Years of Motherhood Has Taught Me

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Grocery Shopping Actually Gets Worse
I use to spend two hours to prepare for a grocery shopping trip pre-baby. I would cut coupons online, use Pinterest to develop my weekly meal plan and then make a list, before eventually making my way to the store. I would justify the experience by treating myself to a cup of coffee from a cafe that I would sip as I walked the aisles. Even then grocery shopping was time consuming, expensive and overwhelming. Now, I laugh those feelings in the face. Grocery shopping with children in tow (unless they are 16+) is all of those things magnified times ten. I have literally left the store, drenched in sweat, and swiped my credit card not knowing the total because all can I think is, “Get me the hell of here!” As my precious daughter has a full fledged meltdown in the check-out aisle, frantically reaching for every chocolate bar and package of candy in arms reach.

Kisses Actually Heal Boo-Boos
Cuts and scrapes they happen, a lot. Frozen Band-Aids will do, but kisses, hugs and cuddles are even better. The magic of a kiss in a child’s mind and through their eyes, well I do believe that mentally, the act of kindness we parents present, is realized and felt during their time of need.

You Realize Pizza Can Be a ‘Breakfast Food’
Yep! Sometimes we try to control so much and it is not only overwhelming for us but for our children. No more bottle; time to give up the binkie; why are you not using the potty?; bedtime is made for your own bed; eat this, not that. See, the list goes on and on. We stress ourselves out keeping up with the ‘Jones’ and what society deems as acceptable. I have learned to pick and choose my battles. And, sometimes that includes food. Lo will go days eating like a bird and then make up for it in a sitting. Sometimes, I just need her to eat, something, anything! That includes chicken soup or pizza for breakfast! If it means she will eat, sometimes I turn my eye on the clock and the designated menu that exist in our minds and just feed her!

The Bathroom Is No Longer a Private Space
I use to pretend, even with the door closed that I wasn’t actually in, yet, using the bathroom, when it was just Nathan and I. Eventually, we got over that initial stage of pretending we don’t go to the bathroom, and instead the bathroom became a mutual understanding that time in there, alone, was reserved for privacy with no interruption. Yeah, not so much with a toddler in the home. I think we are lucky if the door is even closed any more. Lo hunts me down when I find myself in the bathroom alone. Heck, last night at 4:30 am, I went to pee, and she literally climbed out of our bed and followed me!

Cleaning Someone Else’s Body Fluids Becomes Second Nature (Except Vomit)
Let’s just keep this bathroom talk going, I mean, why not? You will change so many dirty diapers that you will become numb to the fact that every single day you are cleaning someone else’s body fluids. Poop, pee, blowouts – who is counting? There will be runny noses and blood from scraped knees. You will touch poop. No avoiding it. And, eventually your child will get the flu and there will be vomit and then you will be like, “Why am I here? What the heck am I doing?” And, if you have a weak, weak stomach, this is where you will draw the line in the sand, but then realize there is no one else there, and stomach all the woozies and pray it doesn’t happen again. Psst, it will.

I Should Have Installed Hardwood Instead of Carpet
A few years ago, Nathan and I replaced much of the flooring that was part of the original home we purchased. We decided then what we thought we would need now. “Carpet will be the best for children.” We anticipated that carpet flooring would allow for a chunky baby to learn to crawl and walk with ease. We did not anticipate how grimy kids are and how grimy carpets become! Spilled bottles of milk, cheese squished into the fibers, and jelly toast dragged across the floor. It is gross. If I could do it all over, I would have laid hardwood down and called it a day. P.S. – Children can crawl and walk on those just fine!

Installing a Car Seat May Be The Most Frustrating Thing You Ever Do
I literally cannot recall the last time I gritted my teeth and screamed in complete frustration as I did a few weeks ago when I had to re-install the car seat. Oh yeah, I do! I reacted the same way, the first time I installed that unforgiving biotcha. It is like patting your head and rubbing your belly at the same time. Pull the seat belt strap, while dragging across the seat base, while snapping it in before the strap gives and locks, while closing the seat and locking it in. I wanted to pick it up and throw it into the woods. But being a Mom is all about perseverance and I pulled up my big girl pants and buckled down (literally) for my little one’s safety.

I Am Still Tired
I lost sleep when I was pregnant. Leg cramps and back pain had me tossing and turning for hours on end. After my emergency c-section, I was groggily and deep in sleep. Two nurses turned on the light above my bed, nudge me to wake up and placed a baby against my chest and said, “We need you to feed her.” In my blurry state I felt as if I could not keep my eyes open and I recall not even being able to feel anything from the stomach down from the surgery, but they held her safely against me and I realized then, sleep is for the weary. My REM schedule now answers to my daughter. And, two years later, the Boss still interrupts snoozing a lot. Yes, it gets better, but you are always, always tired!

Life Becomes More Complicated
Scheduling can be a nightmare!! Gone are the days of going with the flow, on the go. Pop-up dinners and meetings, require a call to the spouse or a call with the sitter. Invites from friends for a night out, leaves you pondering on where and what to do with children, or even questioning their invite, “Is it child friendly or child free?” Sometimes I feel like I spend the majority of my time planning our family’s movements. It can be chaotic and stressful.

Love is Powerful
Who knew this kind of love could exist? I know I did not. This kind of love is full of grace. No day easy. No day the same. You win some and you lose some. Give yourself the grace to know when to call it a day. Go to bed and start over. Give yourself some slack. Guilt can and will eat you alive. Parenting is hard work, but rewarding. This kind of love is powerful, because you never knew it existed before your children. It is a love that even they won’t know until one day too, they are a parent. It is unconditional and full of strength. It is the most challenging work I have done in my life, yet filled with so much fulfillment that even through all the struggles mentioned above, I get back up and do it all over again in the name of love.

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The Third Voice

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It is funny how loud our home has become.

Pattering of feet running hard across tile floors. The wheeling of a shopping cart buggy being pushed across the wooden planks that make up our back deck flooring. Squeals of delight as the music to Frozen starts up. Tears and tantrums. Oh the incredible tantrums. The call from one end of the home for “Mommy!” And, let me tell you one cry for Mommy will never do. It is “Mommy, Mommy… MOMMY!” Until I arrive.VIEW STORY »

Dear Pacifier

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Dear Pacifier,

Let’s just cut to the chase, you are called a “Binkie” in our home, so Binkie you shall remain and be referred to through this post. Okay, now that we cleared that up, you and I have a love / hate relationship right now.

It all began when Lo was a mere few hours old. For some unknown reason, I was scared of you. Afraid, she would become addicted to your power. Sitting there holding my day old baby and all I could think of was her at four running through the yard, I chasing after her, trying to coax you from her mouth.VIEW STORY »

Links. Likes. Loves.

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I snagged this picture on our newly power washed deck. I had no clue what natural beauty existed beneath. But, soon this too will be a distant memory as we are painting our deck and home. I have been Googling like crazy exterior paint and design. My Pinterest Board blew up too with some pins and I fell in love with This charming home.

I turned 30 last week, and my dear parents bought me my favorite boots! So, now I am contemplating a Matching Pair for Lo. I feel like there is a marginal window when we can wear matching attire.

No foundation? This is me. Well not me but my routine. I cut out the liquid foundation long ago, and recently even powder. Instead I too, opt for a concealer dab.

How lovely is This Top? Seriously! I can see it paired adorably with flowy Army green shorts, to end out summer. Then paired with dark denim skinny jeans and ankle boots. Check out, please!

This is one cool Mom and cool kid. Birthday Party In Target? Yes, please!

USA’s First Ever Gold Medal For Women’s Wrestling. Talk about dedication, compassion and determination.

Hysterical. I will leave it at that.

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Surviving The Beach With Kids

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I was going to title this Blog post – Beach Hacks or Tips for Beaching With Kids. SEO friendly post titles that get straight to the point of my message. But, as I reflect on our beach vacation (you can read all about it – Here) I realized, those titles, just won’t do.

No, sometimes, it is straight up survival mode around here. And, well, sand and waves, you really are no exception.

Children are tough little cookies and they require more work and attention when it comes to beach planning than I myself every did.

I pretty much took three things to the sandy shores – 1) a beach chair 2) a magazine 3) a cold beverage. I was set.

Yeah, not so much anymore. Thank goodness my in-laws rent an oceanfront home each year which saves us from completely thinking ahead, as we merely run across hot coals, I mean the sand, to the house for said items. But, while we do have that advantage to our stay, I still find the following beach tips necessary to share.

  1. Zip Lock Baggie It

    I have a Lifeproof cell phone case, but that does not mean I confidently leave my phone on my towel or in the cup of my beach car. No! I still zip lock baggie that baby. I even will throw extra bags in our cooler. They are great for holding a pacifier, snacks, random seashells found on the beach and that precious cell phone!

  2. Baby Powder

    Sprinkle some of this magic pixie dust on your little ones feet and legs to easily remove sand. It is much better than rubbing a towel against your child’s skin which can easily irritate.

  3. Dig A Bed

    I know, you are thinking… “What?” Laying a towel on the sand and climbing under the umbrella, while sounds appealing actually is the worse “mattress” you may sleep on in your life. Have you tried? It is hard! And, yet, you see parents do it over and over for their kids. Use the palm of your hand to scoop the sand left and right to create an indent (almost like a cradle). Then lay a towel over the sand and place child. We even do this for the older kids, creating mini recliners in the sand.

  4. Pack Snacks… And Well!

    Unless you want to make multiple runs from the ocean to your lodging, pack some great snacks. Always prepare to be on the beach for a length of time. Even if you are not! We pre-make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, gummies, pretzels, goldfish crackers, etc. Try to pack individual snacks so nothing goes to waste and you can accommodate multiple people.

  5. Freeze Water Bottles & Use As Ice

    This tip accompanies the tip above. Food safety is a must. Especially on a hot beach. Keep cold foods cold with frozen bottles of water. 1) They tend to last longer than heaping piles of ice and 2) They are multi-purpose. As they melt you eventually have water and we also use the bottles to cool down. Placing the bottle against the back of our necks for some instant relief.

  6. Beach Towel

    This Towel for the win! My sister-in-law, Abbey scored this great beach find. It repels sand! Yes. You read that correct.

  7. Water Shoes

    This was a total whim, but I am glad I purchased and packed. When we got to the beach we were greeted by lots and lots of jellyfish. They were in the water and all over the shore. Within the first hour, my oldest niece was stung three times and she never went in the water! I packed the shoes for the rough ocean floor but these provided some comfort and piece of mind for walking across the jellyfish invested shore. Try These or These!

  8. Pack A Spray Bottle of Vinegar

    For the fries, y’all! Just kidding. Hence the tip above and the jellyfish dilemma and possible stings. I had always heard, you pee on a jellyfish sting. I think that public form of medicine is looked down upon. Vinegar does the trick! We actually learned that from a lifeguard. Vinegar takes the sting out.

  9. Reusable Shopping Bags

    These make great beach bags! Coming from a self-proclaimed, “fashion girl” – skip the beach bag fashion. Unless you are in Saint-Tropez… no one cares! These are great for toting sandy towels and toys and they rinse up and dry great. Seriously, save your money.

  10. 5 Gallon Bucket

    Can’t you tell from the photo above? My dear daughter and our young nieces and nephews enjoyed every single moment with this bucket! Fill that sucker up with ocean water and watch the kiddies frolic around it like it is a magic well or something. No, in all seriousness, it is great for quick washes of the hands and feet, for sand castle play and for even quick dunks from the sun.

Do you have a beach tip that I missed? If so, share in the comments section below. Happy beaching!

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TOMS Shoes

Beaching In South Carolina

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Things have been QUIET around here.  Not like in the physical home form (oh, contrary) – I am talking about on the Blog Diggity.

We have been beaching it up for the past week in South Carolina. Shout out to the Palmetto State, you are beautiful.

Each year my husband’s side makes the pilgrimage for a week of fun, sun, laughter, crying, whining, food & drinks (oh, lots of drinks) and little to no relaxing. Yes, you read it right – little to no relaxing. What all vacations are made of!

Oh, and there were selfies. Lots and lots of selfies!

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We take it in great stride. It has not always been this way and won’t always either. In fact, this is the 10th summer I have spent with his side ocean front and many, many years were spent staying out late, bar hopping, shopping for cute cover-ups and suits (for hours, not minutes), dining out often and staying on the beach from sun up to practically sundown.

8 Adults. 8 Children (Ages 7 and under) and 1 House. Yes, 1 house. What the hell are we thinking? I swear I question our sanity each year as we load up the SUV’s and truck, and place sleeping babies in their car seats and take bets on how long until – “Are we there yet?” begins or complete meltdowns and bribery take place. The trip is long, even for us adults. Although, the kids were champs, except for my nephew, Sam. I think he puked about 4 times along I-95. Just kidding. Not about the puke, but about the champ comment. In reality, he can take the crown for longest car ride ever for a car sick little boy.

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My sister-in-law, Amie wins the most-creative-mom award for entertaining her kiddies with a small toy on the hour. Unlike Nathan and I who purchased a portable DVD player and three DVD’s and popped that sucker in the moment Lo made her first peep. Anyways, Amie shopped at the local Dollar General before we left and gift wrapped coloring books, stickers, small figures, etc and allowed the kids to select one as each hour passed – all 9 long hours. So, take note, fellow parents of little kids, as you plan a long roadtrip. Just calculate better. Amie missed an hour so we had to convenience them dinner was one of their gifts!

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I made the point to someone that driving to South Carolina was sort of like having a baby. The trip is painful like delivery. The beach week is delightful like the baby and the whole experience is so worth it that you do it over and over again, forgetting the upfront pain (hence, why women have more than one child and why this growing family keeps going back for more and more).

The week flew by. But, it always does when you are on vacation. Time is never enough. You feel selfish for wanting more and yet deserving for not having enough. Or, at least we do! When you work so hard all year and await this one week yearly, you can feel selfish with your time and money. Vacation almost becomes a celebration of all your hard work.

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And, while there were meltdowns, and there were fights over baby dolls and pacifiers and swim gear and sand toys, our 8 human beings are so lucky to have this experience and each other.

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My daughter woke up screaming in pure joy each morning when she heard her cousins outside our bedroom door.

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We also successfully went out for, wait for it – lunch. Which could have been like a tornado hitting a house but we managed to get through it with minimal wind damage. One child dive bombed off a chair sideways and most-creative-mom, Amie, turned into most-easily-persuaded-mom and then morphed into thank-the-heavens-you-think-of-this-crap-mom, purchasing cotton candy and rainbow popcorn PRE-lunch for us all to snack on at the table. I think for 2 minutes all of us were in our dining room seats eating, but as meltdowns began to occur an adult and child would pop-out. Hey, small victories, right? This was one.

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The only proof we have that this happened.

Somehow we also managed a birthday party for the family “triplets.” Really a set of identical twin boys and an ornery red head girl who all shared their third birthday just days a part.

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Someone get my daughter a slice of cake.

It helps that us adults enjoy our morning bloody marys and afternoon Corona’s with lime, because when the chaos hit a high and the majority of our children were whining like baby birds waiting for Momma Bird to drop a worm, we would look across the madness, open the refrigerator or uncork some wine and just laugh.

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When all else fails, just stick your kid in a water filled bucket! 15 minutes of fun.

So, I am not refreshed for Monday morning – sorry, world! I am not richer – much poorer and I am not relaxed, oh the opposite – I am pretty beat.

I am; however, content, grateful and fulfilled.

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We have given our Lo girl and along with our family, our 7 nieces and nephews some amazing memories. We do it all for the kids right? And, us too! We laughed much, we ate well, raised our glasses, got some serious tans (y’all I looked like Casper pre-vacation) and were able to carve out time some much needed family time.

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P.S. – One twin boy and adult men missing. P.S.S. – I do not know why we packed clothes! Diaper and swimsuit week.


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The Honest Company

We Are Hustlin

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I dedicate this Blog to all the hustlers out there. Can I get a “whoop, whoop”?

No, but seriously, this is for all my ladies. Being a Mom is hard, tiring work.

I know, I know, being a Dad is too, please don’t private message me and comment that I am excluding fathers. I get it, but actually, in reality, I don’t, because I am Momma, so I am focusing this on motherhood.

If you asked me to describe my current situation it would be exhausted. I swear I am always exhausted. All day. Every day. I am frustrated and I am definitely lacking patience. Some days by 8:30 am, I feel like I have already given my all. Living out a 24-hour day when we have only been up for two hours. O.M.G.

Lo has reached the pre-terrible two’s, which I fully support is a legit thing. She throws herself into a back bend, when I open the car door to place her in her car seat. She lashes out and thrashes about. Digging the back of her head into the seat rest and scooting her body fast off the edge. I would imagine it looks like I am trying to wrangle an animal in the back seat of my car.

Right now “No.” Is her favorite, and may I add annoying choice word. It never is said once. It is usually accompanied by a “No, No, No, NOOOO!” So, it is super positive up in here.

We meltdown. Usually when Mom and / or Dad have not fed her on cue. Hangry is what it is and I know all about it because I personally suffer from it as well. Meltdowns can occur anywhere these days. And, usually it is in the most public places when you feel like every other human walking by is judging you and just watching how you will best handle.

I have one child. I get that when I complain about being tired, or exhausted (an extreme of tired), that the Mommies of multiples probably raise an eyebrow or roll eyes. I get having more than one child is another layer of motherhood that I know nothing about. My mommy friends with plus ones, probably talk about me not being able to hang or handle one. Heck, I myself question my ability for another child, when I feel as tired as I do with one.

Motherhood is a full-time, around the clock job. It is really that. We are working first, second and third shifts. Plus, handling all other responsibilities that existed pre-baby. We are hustlin.

I work full-time but really much more than a typical 40-hour work week. It is demanding and at many times, completely overwhelming.

Days begin super early and by the time I have disconnected myself from Lo and have transitioned into career woman mode, I feel as if I myself have been completely depleted. While I drive my hour commute to work, I try so hard to use the time to decompress and switch my mentality towards work and looming projects, but the reality is, when you are a mommy, it is something you cannot “turn off.”

In the workforce, there is an expression often used, “Leave your personal problems at home and focus on work.” I grew a child inside me for 9 months, I delivered a human, I live and breath her wants and needs, sometimes I cannot “turn it off.” When we started showing signs before the one-year mark of becoming mobile, I found myself daydreaming throughout the day of her taking her first steps without me (which she did). When we have had a sleepless night due to teething or a cold, I am either 1) sleep deprived or 2) wondering if she is napping or eating well for the sitter.

In the evenings, once I pick up Lo, sometimes I want to cry at the thought of not being able to “chill.” Especially if my day has been long and stressful. It is full-speed ahead until Lo finally crashes. There is dinner to be made, sometimes a trip to the grocery store for said dinner ingredients, a diaper bag to be packed, a bath to be had and a whole ritual of a bedtime routine. “Me time” which use to exist every night prior to Lo, is now nonexistent.

Recently, I asked a girlfriend if this exhaustion was normal or maybe I just suck at time management. Why do I feel like I am frustrated? She really put into perspective for me when she explained that as mothers we just have this innate need to handle everything. Work responsibilities, extended family needs, keeping the house tidy, meal planning, grocery runs, dinner prep, lunches packed, appointments scheduled, bills paid, and the list goes on.

We are hustlers. Our minds never stop. Once a child was born we developed a new sense for multitasking on both physical and mental levels. Super human if you will. You can be prepping dinner, drawing a bath, checking over a kid’s homework and pouring a glass of wine in two minutes top. It is like you can’t shut it off. And, the only time you do, is when you shut your eyes to sleep, but by golly, that is the moment your child screams out for you.

It is tiring. It is rewarding. I will say it again though, it is tiring. Some days I want to sleep. Some days just screaming will do. I know one thing, I am not alone. Too many good Mommas are too out there hustlin hard to provide for their families financially, emotionally, physically and often not described or said enough – lovingly.

So, while I will still complain because one day can seem harder than the next, I also send my love out there to you. Because I know you understand me and even most likely are feeling these same emotions too.

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