Dear God...A Mommy's Prayer

Dear God,
 
I know that for years- even when I was a little girl I prayed for the day I would become a mother. 

You heard me and in Your infinite wisdom You knew it was something that I would NOT have been ready for in my 20's. 

That's why you didn't have me meet CJ until a few years ago.

I LOVE being a mom about 92.8% of the time but it's that 7.2% I'd like to chat with you about. I am now on my second baby in two years (again VERY grateful), but if you could wave your magic wand or whatever it is you do when answering prayers I will be forever in your debt. Here is my request list in no particular order:

* Can I please sneeze without having to change my underpants?

* Could I get more than 4 hours of sleep a night?

*Now, I realize this one is asking a lot, but could I please poop in private without my toddler or Chihuahua busting down the door?

* Could I have a phone conversation without someone shouting, "Mom! Mom! Mom!!!" 1500 times until I get off the phone and then I get the silent treatment?

*Can I eat one meal and not have to share it?

I'm not asking to be relieved of diaper duty or even to never be vomited on again, but if You could just let one or ALL of the above happen in the same week I would gladly start my own religion in Your Name. Amen!

For Shizzle My Bizzle

You’ve heard of “party poopers” well in the beginning we were “poop party-ers.” See, you never fully appreciate the act until you’re the parent of a newborn and knowing that your baby is #1 at number two means you are at least doing part of the job right. Because what they leave in that little diaper means they’re getting all of nutrients and sustenance they need to grow into a mischievous toddler and eventually obnoxious teenager.

The first time “it happened” it was like “So You Think You Can Dance” in the nursery. Seriously, we busted into a two-person flashmob - the dog even took a break from updating her Facebook and joined in because we were so excited she thought we were praising her for something. 
 

I know! I'm sick. My dog actually has her own FB page

I never thought I would be “that parent”, you know the one who loses their mind over every little cute and disgusting thing my baby does. But the excitement over this one particular bodily function completely took me by surprise. Now, I admit clean-up can be a b*tch. The “mustard monster blow-outs” take no prisoners. And it can be especially gross because my husband and I chose to use cloth diapers instead of disposables. I like to say it's because we love the environment and (apparently) hate ourselves.J/K

For a hot minute we thought we could predict when a mustard monster blow-out was going to happen. We thought we’d be slick and just let her hang out in a make shift diaper out of one of the dog’s wee-wee pads. (Don’t judge me!) 

Well, we underestimated the sheer power and malleability of baby pooh. My husband had the misfortune of sleeping with the baby on his bare chest when this occurred.

Trust me a valuable lesson was learned from that experience. And that lesson would be to ALWAYS have a camcorder nearby—because the look of absolute horror on my husband’s face was priceless and should have definitely been captured for posterity.
 

Okay Seriously?! How Does she manage to poop up?!WTF?!

The Diaper Bag From Heaven

Even though I'm bi-coastal, and every now and again I find myself on TV or radio I really pride myself on being down to earth and non-materialistic- which is quite a feat considering I'm bi-coastal, on radio/TV... and I grew up in Plano, Texas- where our unspoken motto is: It's not how you feel, but how you look.

Your average neighborhood block in Plano, TX

That said, I cannot help but gush over my new  über stylish diaper bag. I got it just over a week ago and I am completely in love with it. 

This is JJ Cole's Caprice "Silver Drop" Style  - I dare you to tell me this looks like a diaper bag.

Y'all if loving a diaper bag is wrong I don't want to be right. And if you seriously think my loving a diaper bag IS wrong then you've never been a parent with a diaper bag that was also your purse/backpack/wallet/wristlet/"murse" etc... 'cause guess what you trade all those cute designer things in when you have a bambino. Well, not anymore thanks to JJ Cole!

 

Like my own mother, I always wanted to be the hip cool well-dressed mom. I swear carrying this bag makes it easy since it goes with ANY outfit. Hellooo- a busy mom's dream come true!

I'm smiling because of the bag NOT because I enjoy shopping

I may leave the house without make-up on these day but I'm still looking cute with my JJ Cole Caprice Diaper Bag on my side.

I used to pretend that I didn't care if my old "gender neutral" bag with it's brown, aqua, lime and cream stripes didn't go with what I was wearing. But I was lying to myself. (And slowly killing my inner Kim Kardashian.)

I also seemed to be under the illusion that I could take everything I wanted with me for an outting. I had no idea how much baby stuff I was going to have to carry with me at one time. Now, the reality has set in.  

Which if you are a new mom, you know that list includes but is not limited to: extra diapers, a spare change of clothes or two, toys, swaddling blanket, pacifiers, bottles, diaper wipes, a diaper changing cloth...I'm sure I'm forgetting something- but you catch my drift. 
 

Inside the JJ Cole Caprice Diaper Bag

My old diaper bag really couldn't carry all of that but I pretended it could which is why it was rarely zipped up and I had stuff spilling out of the side pockets, which by the way didn't zip or close. So every time I bent over it was a disaster. I was a walking hot mommy mess. That was until the heaveans opened up and the diaper bag gods smiled upon me and I recieved this bad boy. With it's 10 pockets and super sturdy diaper changing pad you can't go wrong.

Let me just say that as soon as I walked into my lactation center aka "Baby Breastfeeding Bootcamp" all the moms looked my way and the first question out of their mouths was "Where did you get that?" I actually get asked that all the time now.

You too can don your very own fabulous JJ Cole Diaper Bag. You can find them online or in stores for the very reasonable retail price of $69.99 OR you can one for FREE by winning the Diary of a Preganant Comedian Giveaway. 

All you have to do is leave a comment below telling me which style is your favorite and a winner will be selected randomly at the end THIS MONTH (April 2013).

You can check it all out by clicking on this link:
http://jjcolecollections.com/caprice-bag    

Good Luck!
~Karith
 

3 Questions I Would Ask My Baby IF She Could Answer Now.

I know that my child will be talking soon enough and if she's anything like me, which looks like it's going to be the case then she'll never shut up. (My husband CJ is completely thrilled by that prospect.) Even if she could talk right now I don't know if she'd be able to coherently answer the questions I have, but I sure as heck would give it a shot.

My first question would fall under the "morning routine" genre. And this is how the conversation would go or at least this is how it goes in my head:

"Baby Bean why in the world do you wake up EVERY SINGLE morning between 4:30 and 5:30 a.m.? Are you going camping? Fishing? Do you have a paper route that I should be aware of? Seriously WTF? I love you and I don't mind getting up to change your diaper, but EVERY morning? You do realize Mommy is a comedian and used to working at night so this morning thing is killing me. But because you smile as soon as I look into your eyes and say 'Good Morning Baby,' I smile and I forget for a few moments how completely sleep deprived I am."

Question number 2: How do you poop UP? Seriously, I've seen some gravity defying shit in my life, but this literally takes the cake. I don't know how you do it, but you could put David Copperfield, Cris Angel and David Blaine to shame. Are you perhaps working with NASA scientists on the side? If not you should be. I'm sure they too would like in on the way you and your poohing capabilities defy the laws of physics.

Lastly:  How is it you're a perfect angel when we're out in public. I can take you to any restaurant or event. You're  a rockstar baby on airplanes. You've won two consective "Best Baby On Board" Awards. So how is it that the times you choose to lose your mind and have a complete meltdown is when I'm on the phone on an important call?! I seriously don't get it- do you know that's your cue to act a fool? Or does Mommy's voice change and it bothers you?  I'm just curious.

I'd love an answer to any and all of these questions but alas I know none is forthcoming and I'm just going to have to chalk it up to it being a "Baby thing" and I just wouldn't understand.   

But just so you know- I love you unconditionally regardless.

My Child, A Future NASCAR Driver...WTF?!!!

So I've had some pretty ludicrous conversations with my husband in our relatively short time together. I am a comedian and he's Australian- 'nough said. I'll be the first person to say comics are odd birds and anyone who knows and loves an Aussie understands that this group of people are typically very often lacking in the filter department. Intelligence aside, they can let stuff slip out of their mouths that if it were a visual thing you'd do a double take. 

What I find fascinating is that some of the most absurd conversations have occurred the past few weeks since "our" pregnancy has gone into full swing. A few of these conversations have been covered in this blog from our "Baby Naming Debates" to "S#!T One Should NEVER Say to One's Pregnant Wife".  A classic conversation last week revolved CJ suggesting that we NEVER have a diaper touch our baby's bottom. (I kid you not!) I truly couldn't make this up if I wanted to. I've been wanting to blog about this, but every time I think about it I just shake my head in disbelief. 

Now, in my husband's defense, I appreciate his desire to a) be GREEN and b) fiscally responsible. But THAT is why we're doing G-Diapers or some kind of fabulous earth friendly cloth diapers.  

Now the other thing in my husband's defense is that this was NOT an original thought of his own. (Thank God!) The brother-in-law of the Russian Super-model mom I talked about in my blog "Ah! The Joys of Little Boys" informed CJ during one of their male bonding visits that this woman, his sister-in-law from the former USSR, NEVER once used diapers on her boys- EVER! When he first told me this I called bullshit! 

There's no way any baby in the Western world in today's society has gone diaperless their entire babyhood. But CJ swore up and down it was a Russian thing- and I just didn't understand. So he kept challenging me to call her and see what the trick was so our baby could be just as well trained. I was like, "I don't have to call her because I know what you're saying is INSANE!". Well, they finally caught up with one another on Facebook and it was revealed that although Miss Russia's boys were potty trained early they still wore diapers through at least their sixth month. Told ya so! RIDICULOUS!

Well, the conversation tonight went from the ridiculous to the sublime. We just finished watching the NBA Finals (Poor Oklahoma City Thunder- they got served!) and there was a commercial for ESPN and all sorts of sports. I commented on how happy I'd be if our child played soccer or basketball or even danced- (football is off the table as both of us feel it's just too high a risk for head injuries). It was then that CJ, who is a motorcycle and motocross enthusiast, says, "Or racing." He then tells me about how one of his best friends who's also mad about motocross is looking to buy his son a go-kart. This child is 7 MONTHS OLD!!! He's just barely mastered sitting up by himself.  CJ was like, "I should do that for our baby." (Insert double take here!) 

I was being a smart ass when I said, "Do you have any idea what that could lead too?! You want our baby in NASCAR?!" And that illicited this response:

CJ: "You know, that would be pretty incredible! Do you have ANY idea how badly NASCAR is looking to have a Black driver?! Hello Ca-ching! And if we have a girl?!! Are you kidding me a FEMALE BLACK NASCAR driver! That's like printing money! AND she'd be beautiful!!! Forget about it. I'm going to look on-line for go-karts now."

That's when I excused myself from the conversation- or just stopped listening however you'd like to envision me tuning out and started writing this blog entry- aka my therapy.

God help us all. Especially little Baby Bean.

What is HE Going to Do when the Baby Comes?!

The HE I'm referring to is of course my darling husband CJ. Even though the arrival of our baby is a couple of seasons away I've been thinking about this more & more. One situation in particular started this spiral of worry. Let me give you some background. I am married to an Australian. If there is anything to know about Aussie men it's that they are viral and proud almost to a fault. My husband fits the bill, but is a far cry from a machismo a-hole. That being said, CJ thinks "man-scaping" is for punks, calling yourself a "metrosexual" means you're really two cocktails away (pun intended) from being a homosexual, and let's just acknowledge that the last three dogs he owned were Rottweilers. Sweet and loving dogs but VERY masculine. Since we split our time between California and New York but have been in NYC as of late CJ has only recently begun walking my 7lb. Chihuahua, Lealah, around our Manhattan neighborhood by himself. It was a hugely successful feat on my part to convince him during his solo mission that people would not doubt his sexuality- especially when it's chilly enough for my pooch to wear a sweater from her extensive wardrobe. Part 1 of this 2-part hurdle down. The area that needs some work is that CJ refuses to pick up my Chihuahua's pooh because- get this- it freaks him out. Mind you not cleaning up after your dog is completely illegal and punishable by fines up to $1,000 in NYC. 

But he's found a way to side wind his adorable Aussie self around it. He gets Lealah to relieve herself in this one particular spot that's part grass/part gravel/part someone's empty lot/private parking area- and the way it's situated there's actually no pedestrian traffic at all. Seriously, you would have to be half 3 Stooge half Tracy Morgan to step in this shit (literally).

 Some of you may be thinking: So?! What's the big deal? Well, it ticks me off for a few reasons: One it feels like he's shirking off his civic duties. (Someone was obviously a Brownie, Girl Scout and all around Goodie Two-Shoes.) Number two (no pun intended this time) I can't get my dog to pooh in this spot every time. In fact, in the almost 4 years since this dog has been alive and in my possesion she's pooped there maybe ONCE for me- and I still picked it up. He claims they (he & the dog) have an "agreement" (I'm also now sensing some jealousy on my part). I just keep thinking is if this were a cat / liter box situation both me and my baby would be dead from Toxoplasmosis! But lastly- my biggest concern of all is- if my 6-foot-4 knight in shining armor is SO skeeved out by picking up the .09 ounces of waste from an adorable Chihuahua what in the world is going to happen when our darling infant has fecal Armageddon in it's diapers? I'll tell you right now I'm already (albeit willingly) sacrificing my breasts for this kid. I am NOT risking complete loss of my sense of smell because Crocodile Dun-skeeve doesn't want to change a diaper or assault his senses of touch or smell. He says it will be different with the baby and he'll be fine. I pray for his sake he's right 'cause if I catch him outside holding our baby over the spot where Lealah goes it ain't gonna be pretty.