Hi. I'm a stay-at-home mom—when I'm not working. I work 'gigs' as an on-site kids sports photographer, so definitely not a 9-to-5. I've gotta say, being a full-time parent is by far the most challenging and most fulfilling job I have ever had.

Mae's daddy was laid off a couple months ago. It is so nice to have him back home from those business trips, but in the meantime... eek!

My super-awesome kid, Mae Beatrix, was born on January 19, 2010. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

 

I’m pretty sure I am sick with everything.

First I thought it was a cold, then sinus infection, now it’s feeling like the flu. Oh, and of course Mae is sick, that’s how I got sick. That’s even worse. Kids don’t know how to handle being sick so they just go crazy. Poor baby.

Oh, and Husband got me a Bamboo for Valentine’s Day! I can’t wait to have a little time to myself—when I’m not exhausted & sick—to use it. I’m waiting til tomorrow to open the other thing he sent me.

He sent Mae a Yo Gabba Gabba bath set. I made a little Valentine’s bucket for her with a coloring book, a teddy, and a marshmallow pop thingie.

Sad to be without my man on Valentine’s, but glad that I have someone who loves me and who was thoughtful enough to still do something for me from 1,380 miles away.

Mae got this adorable hat from her uncle Bobby yesterday. She also got some perfect Osh Kosh overalls, I have to post a picture of those, too!

Mae got this adorable hat from her uncle Bobby yesterday. She also got some perfect Osh Kosh overalls, I have to post a picture of those, too!

So last night, I realized that during the course of an average day, I eat much less food than I feed Mae.

She is 22 months old, a hair over 3 feet tall, and weighs 30 pounds. I am 25 years old, 5-foot-6, and weigh about 140 pounds.

How does that even work? It’s so silly. I should be taking better care of myself! I’m the one who is taking care of my kid all day, I should be at the top of my game, or at least functional.

My body is constantly in damage-control mode. My husband reminded me on the phone last night how recently I was in the emergency room. I had totally forgotten. I take so much care in presenting my daughter with a healthy, yummy, rounded diet, and then down a pot of coffee for my own breakfast.

So often at the end of the day, I realize that I haven’t eaten anything. I’ll rummage around in the fridge for leftovers, and even then it’s not a lot.

So, this morning, I resolved to feed myself better. I ate exactly the same thing Mae did: a boiled egg, some cheese, a pickle, 1/2 banana, 2 strawberries, some Greek yogurt, and a bit of Kashi honey-almond flax.

It was good, but eating still seems like a chore. I could be doing a million other things, but instead I am sitting here putting food into my face. Oh well. I feel silly complaining about ‘having to eat’ when there are those out there who actually are starving.

This is rambling now, but thank God we don’t have to struggle ridiculously to put the smallest amount of food in our bellies. My heart goes out to those who do.

So last night, I realized that during the course of an average day, I eat much less food than I feed Mae.

She is 22 months old, a hair over 3 feet tall, and weighs 30 pounds. I am 25 years old, 5-foot-6, and weigh about 140 pounds.

How does that even work? It’s so silly. I should be taking better care of myself! I’m the one who is taking care of my kid all day, I should be at the top of my game, or at least functional.

My body is constantly in damage-control mode. My husband reminded me on the phone last night how recently I was in the emergency room. I had totally forgotten. I take so much care in presenting my daughter with a healthy, yummy, rounded diet, and then down a pot of coffee for my own breakfast.

So often at the end of the day, I realize that I haven’t eaten anything. I’ll rummage around in the fridge for leftovers, and even then it’s not a lot.

So, this morning, I resolved to feed myself better. I ate exactly the same thing Mae did: a boiled egg, some cheese, a pickle, 1/2 banana, 2 strawberries, some Greek yogurt, and a bit of Kashi honey-almond flax.

It was good, but eating still seems like a chore. I could be doing a million other things, but instead I am sitting here putting food into my face. Oh well. I feel silly complaining about ‘having to eat’ when there are those out there who actually are starving.

This is rambling now, but thank God we don’t have to struggle ridiculously to put the smallest amount of food in our bellies. My heart goes out to those who do.

Me & Mae trick-or-treating with my cousins last night. It was kind of a nightmare, but the actual trick-or-treating went well. It’s too bad her daddy couldn’t be there, but I’m glad we got to do the festival thing the day before.

Me & Mae trick-or-treating with my cousins last night. It was kind of a nightmare, but the actual trick-or-treating went well. It’s too bad her daddy couldn’t be there, but I’m glad we got to do the festival thing the day before.

Think you’re tough?

Try being a single mom, even just 3 weeks out of every month. You’ll soon learn how weak you are, how hard it is, and how tough you’ll have to be in order to pull it off.

I feel so pathetic, so defeated, holding back tears at the end of each day—even the good days are so hard all alone.

But there is no losing allowed in this game, no option to quit. You keep your head down and smile through gritted teeth, because you have no other choice but to succeed, no other option but kicking ass.

To all the real single moms out there, I salute you. It’s the one of the hardest roads to walk.

Lita licking her chops after eating the piece of toast Mae fed her. She also ate half of Mae’s banana earlier.

I tried putting her outside, but Mae disappeared into her room and came back two seconds later with Lita in tow. I really wish the dog door wasn’t in her bedroom…

I need a sanitary cage for Mae’s feedings. That way, no feeding the dog, and it won’t matter if she drops her food. Clear plexiglass box with a little chair & table, and tiny air holes in the top. I’m going to invent this.

Lita licking her chops after eating the piece of toast Mae fed her. She also ate half of Mae’s banana earlier.

I tried putting her outside, but Mae disappeared into her room and came back two seconds later with Lita in tow. I really wish the dog door wasn’t in her bedroom…

I need a sanitary cage for Mae’s feedings. That way, no feeding the dog, and it won’t matter if she drops her food. Clear plexiglass box with a little chair & table, and tiny air holes in the top. I’m going to invent this.

Hard decisions…

Yesterday I interviewed for my former Shipping Specialist position at my old FedEx store. I got to see a couple of my former coworkers and catch up with my old manager. I had the job.

All day, from the moment I got home from the interview to the moment my husband came home from work, I had a lump in the back of my throat and a million conflicting thoughts going through my head.

I can’t go back to work full-time! I will only see Mae for a few hours a day, and her daddy will be out of town for weeks at a time. Who is going to take care of the household? Will the cost of daycare even make my extra paycheck worth it? Will the worries of daycare make it worth it? She is only 18 months old, after all.

On the other hand, shouldn’t I overcome my worries and fears and go for it? I did miss this job, and I’ve missed working, and we do get a little stir-crazy, me & Mae, at home together all day…

But would I be happy? Would Mae be happy? Is this really the best decision for everyone?

Then again, I already told my old manager that I want the job… if I change my mind it will make me look irresponsible, and it would be inconvenient to her, and now she will have to find someone else for the job opening…

Then my husband came home, and we talked, and I got all of this crazy out of my head. And I decided to call my old manager today to tell her that, although I did want this job, the timing just isn’t right for our needs right now. I could tell she was disappointed. But in the end, she will find someone else, and I will be here, with Mae, where I belong.