1. Make a meal from Pinterest

2. Parent via Pinterest

3. Watch Dance Moms or Toddlers & Tiaras with dropped jaws, raised eyebrows & judgmental fingers wagging 

4. Shop exlcusively at Totsy* or Zuily* or other kids flash sale sites 

5. Trade your park hopping Converses for socially conscience Toms

6. Make cake pops

7. Use a birthday bunting at your next child’s party

8. Attend a kids party {or any party!} with a DIY photo booth or throw a kids party with a DIY photo booth

9. Discuss vaccination schedules & when to delay or not to delay them at date night

10. Eat your placenta – in any form

11. Have an iPhone, iPad or Droid chock full of kid “learning apps”

12. Paint anything in your house with chalkboard paint

13. Be able to find the closest Whole Foods or Trader Joes from anywhere in the world.

14. Serve Hummus with everything

15. Parent like the French*

16. Parent like a Tiger Mother *

17.  Have a copy of  The Happiest Baby on the Block* on your night stand

18. Know that Odeehdoh is not a form of Toddler-ese

19. Make muffin tin meals

20. Be Gluten Free 

Have any to add of your own?

*Affliate links included in this post.

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So there you have it folks. A woman girl {2 kids & husband & I still consider myself a girl} who doesn’t wear tennis shoes, doesn’t like to sweat, can’t change a tire, check oil & refuses to take out the trash is now going to be a mother to TWO boys. Oy vey!

When the ultrasound tech started & I saw Baby Boy Blue stretched out I saw immeditaly that there was certainly a penis & not a vagina. But we had Phoenix with us & he was really hoping for a girl so I kept my mouth shut. Still Shawn & I both were pretty surprised to hear her confirm that it was indeed a boy. 

With Phoenix I knew almost from the day of conception that I was breeding a boy, but this time I felt pretty confident it was a girl. We have even been settled on a name for some weeks & have lovingly cooed the name to my belly. The girl name when said just felt right, it felt like it just was. 

I wasn’t & am not disappointed that the baby is a boy I was just really, really surprised. I am a girly-girl so having a girl to be all girl with would be great. BUT I never was all “I waaaaant a girl” It was more that I looooooved this name. Phoenix was actually pretty upset & started crying in the room but we talked out all the fun things he could do with his little brother like eat bugs & play trains & after a promised trip to McDonalds he seemed just fine.

But liked I explained to Phoenix, Baby Girl ABC is still in heaven & Jesus sent down Baby Boy Blue because he was ready to go first. 

Ahh! Two boys. Is it a pretty fair guess now to say that since I don’t clean my house will always smell like pee?

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Those are my breast.

Sitting not so high above my pregnant belly.

Resting in a sling that could be tighter, maybe should be bigger, & probably definitely cleaner. 

My breast are enormous.

Taking over my body like lice takes over your first graders head.

Expanding to the sides & under my pits.

Hiding the days goldfish crumbs or a lost earring back.

Sagging under the knowledge of breastfeeding, of mastitis, of swollen & cracked nipples.

Where they are trying to go, no one knows.

And still 20 weeks to go

These are my breast

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Last week on the same day as my delicious vegetable soup diet Natasha over at Little Pink Monster posted this screen lickable recipe for sausage risotto. I had every intention of making that for dinner the next night until I remembered another risotto favorite of mine from an Italian restaurant in LA.

Using a both Natasha’s directions & the recipe from the back of the box I tried my hand at this Spicy Shrimp & Roasted Corn Risotto. Besides the fact that I cooked for a good 45-50 minutes & my husbands sensitive taste buds couldn’t handle the spice I would say that it turned out really well. 

1 1/2 cup of corn 

1/2 -3/4  cup of sundried tomatoes

1/2 lb fresh shrimp peeled & devained 

1 medium size onion chopped

Olive oil 

Cayenne pepper

1 cup white wine

2 cups of chicken broth 

2 cups of milk

1/2 Parmesan Cheese

1 cup of Risotto Rice 

In a cast iron skillet pan sear your corn. I had never done this before so I followed these instructions & it came out just fine. Although I did use frozen corn instead of an actual ear. Once seared set corn aside.

In a heavy bottom pot heat olive oil. Season shrimp with salt & cayenne pepper (to taste). Cook shrimp until pink (about 5 minutes). Remove shrimp with a slotted spoon & set aside. Add more olive oil to your pan & saute the onion until its translucent. Once your onion is done add the rice to the pan & lightly toast.

Turning heat down to medium stir in white wine. Occasionally stirring the rice & wine until it has been absorbed. Once absorbed repeat the process with the chicken broth & milk. Adding each ONE CUP AT A TIME & letting it cook down before adding anymore liquid.

Once all the liquid is absorbed the rice should be tender (15-20 minutes), if not add more liquid a bit at a time. After the rice is tender & all the liquid has cooked down add the sundried tomatoes & corn cook for about 5-6 minutes. Add shrimp, parmesan cheese & a sprinkle or more of cayenne pepper depending on how spicy you want it. If the risotto seems dry/stiff you can add bit more milk. Serve it hot!

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For a special edition of baby bump pictures that is somewhat naughty check my Facebook page. 

Edit: I also woke up this morning realizing that I’m not 19 weeks. I’m only 18…but who’s counting. 

Excuse me if I reek of cabbage & kale onions & garlic. Yesterday was such a long day of grossness. The first few bites we’re easily digestible because with the mix of tomatoes the soup was basically just a vegetable soup {duh}. But after having to eat that shit for 8 hours I couldn’t handle it anymore. Technically I didn’t complete a full 24 hours & broke down at 8 & got a bowl of cereal. 

I did hit the crawling up the wall hungry phase as I was told I would but never the “my ass is exploding” part that I’m sure I was supposed to by my midwives repeating of “getting really sick”. I got a headache & I felt sick to my stomach, but nothing ever, uh, manifested. 

I called my midwife this morning & unfortunately she’s a bit hard to get a hold of & I’m waiting for her to call me back to let me know if I should continue this any further. 

How did my husband do? Not well. He had two little plates of what consisted basically of onions & gave up by 7 & went to bed. I guess its better to be asleep than to be hungry.

I know all of you are chopping at the bits so here’s the recipe.

1/2 head of cabbage

Half a bundle of kale

Half a bundle of spinach

1 head of broccoli

1 large white onion diced

4 gloves of garlic minced

1 Can of Diced Tomatoes

1 Cup of Water

Salt to taste.

Cut it up, put that shit in a pot boil it up until it all sweats down about 30-40 minutes & try eating without vomming. 

Legal Disclaimer: Obviously I’m not saying that this soup cures preeclampsia. We aren’t entirely sure I have it & this soup was serving as a detox to rid my body of extra protein {I think} but I have limited medical training, well like none & even less understanding of medical stuff so I just blindly follow medical orders. If you have The Clamp check with the person in charge of your lady parts before actually going on this detox. 

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So I have preeclampsia. And I have a baby who’s measuring 2 weeks ahead. And I have a date with boiled vegetable soup all day today. So how’s your week been so far?

Tuesday was my appointment with my midwife & each time I’ve gone I’ve had pretty high proteins in my urine. She warned me at my first visit that getting the clamp was possible but that we would see. My blood pressure has also been clocking in as high as it should for the entire pregnancy. The only good news that usually comes from appointments is that my weight is good. How much I weigh & how much I’ve gained are questions I don’t ask. 

Tuesday I’m optimistic that I would have some good news with everything. I went in with my big gigantic pink water bottle, my apple & my new maternity capri pants. 

After I peed in the cup I sat the whole time saying “No protein, no protein, no prot- Alexandria can you come here for a second” SHIT. And there under the garish bathroom light is my pee & a test strip & a big screaming green square telling me “Your body is screwed up!” and this time it wasn’t just a maybe it was “Yeah you certainly got The Clamp.” 

I cried & apologized for crying & cried because I apologized. We talked & she explained that she felt very strongly that I did have The Clamp BUT my blood pressure was surprisingly low & I had no swelling which are the other two signs of it. She did say that there could be other reasons for protein in the urine but we need to eliminate The Clamp before we go any further that’s why I’m going on a 24 hour champagne diet broiled & steamed vegetable diet. The idea is to rid my liver/body of everything that’s “extra” and hopefully control this or see next week that it was a fluke & there is no disease. After that I then go on a low glycemic diet which I’m not entirely sure what that entails except I can’t eat sandwiches which are like the best thing in the world.

So people keep me in mind today as I eat kale & hopefully have my body crash & than come back up again. Also my husband who eats no veggies ever at all is also going on the fast with me in solidarity. He said he helped make this baby so he’ll help keep herhim safe. Yeah he’s a good guy. 

I guess I should try to do all three wifely duties Thursday & maybe add a 4th duty as well.

See you on the flip side.

Love-

Veggie Tales 

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Growing up we had a housekeeper. There would be a few months a year where my parents would be all “You kids need chores & responsibilities we’re firing the housekeeper!” this was always met with groans & the proper amount of eye rolling but the 8 of us always knew it wouldn’t last very long at all. When my parents got sick of yelling at us to do something they would re-instate Ms. Gertie & there she would be every morning shuffling around in her little slippers, calling me Alice & forgetting to put cheese in the lasagna. 

By the time I left home to go to Bible school cleaning was not my strong suit. Listen. I’m not dirty, funky or in need of a hoarders intervention. Far from it. But I’m a procrastinator so if a bathroom should be cleaned once a week I might do it once every 3rd month. 

When I arrived at Bible school I was assigned kitchen duty. Shutter. It was everything I hated. They had a room where you washed dishes in that was always hot & smelled of ranch dressing. I swear that if you popped any of my pimples oozing out of them would be Hidden Valley’s best. I wasn’t very good at mopping & always traded someone that duty & the pot washing required you to dip your hands in a hot vat of bleach & I despise bleach. 

Along with kitchen duty came weekly room inspections. On the first inspection of the year I was required to clean our bathroom, which to me looked damn good. But my dorm monitor thought otherwise “Uh, Sister M. don’t get the wrong impression of me, but I’ve had a housekeeper most of my life. I don’t really do bathrooms.” that excuse didn’t really fly. But by the time I left Bible school. I did bathrooms.

If you fast forward to SAHW years and peek into our dingy apartment you’ll see me scrubbing down walls & toilets & even mopping what little moppable floor we had. A housekeeper wasn’t a luxury.

Since moving to California I’ve meant to hire a housekeeper, even interviewed one, but our place was & is so small I really felt like as much as I didn’t want to do it, I should because how hard is it to clean 2 bathrooms? I had every intention of hiring someone for realz this time though because duh I’m pregnant & I don’t know about anyone else but for me this means I give myself an automatic lazy pass. However, upon arriving at the new place on Thursday I found that because the community is for corporate folks they have a slew of amenities {like pregnant people massages} like…dun, dun, dun a cleaning & LAUNDRY service. Wha?! You mean someone else will actually wash & fold my clothes?

Obviously you know what I’m considering right?

But sometimes I have to fight the urge to feel guilty when I have a housekeeper & am considering a laundry service. But when Phoenix arrived & we brought on some help I adopted a principal that should help you if you choose to be just as lazy as me.

Three duties a wife/mother should focus on that don’t include sex because duh, that’s a given.

1. Housekeeping

2. Child rearing

3. Cooking

And as long as you do at least one of those really, really well everything else can just sit untouched for days. I’ve already told you how I suck at cleaning & my parenting skillz make Snooki look like a good legal guardian for Phoenix so that leaves cooking…and I am a damn good cook. No Hamburger Helper or Hot Dogs & Beans. Tuna casserole? Smash that roll people. I throws down & I have to because I ain’t cleaning.

To see some awesome stuff I cook check out my Facebook page. And also stop by every once in a while. I need people to talk to. 

Of the three wifedom duties what do you excel at?

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I didn’t blog this week. Ok. I did but even I didn’t think it was read worthy. But I did spend oodles amount of times alone & below is my curated list of awesome things on the interwebs from this week. 

The Perils of Dressing Myself While Pregnant.  This was a particularly timely post considering I just bought my first pair of maternity pants. So glad to be out of stretchy pants. 

Neon Shoe DIY  look for me to attempt these as soon as I find a suitable pair of sandals. 

Side split skirts*  loved wearing this when I was a teen until of course I went to Bible School & had to sew them all up. 

Baked Penne with Chicken & Sun Dried Tomatoes*  I made this for dinner Tuesday & it was so yummy! We even had leftovers Wednesday because I ruined dinner. Phoenix literally gobbled up two plates!

Sante Fe Chicken Salad Wrap* this was lunch this week & OMG. I’m such a sucker for anything remotely Mexican-food related & this did not disappoint. Even my second picky eater {my husband} who eats NO vegetables didn’t mind the beans or corn. Yum!

Adulting Blog  love this funny new blog I found

My Child Would Never Do That haven’t we all been here before?

Thirteen like always Rebecca seems to have stolen the thoughts from my head. I’ve thought a post like this over, but not sure I could have said it as beautifully as she did.

Lessons Learned Starting a Second Blog thanks to a great idea from a FB friend I’m contemplating starting a second blog {won’t tell you about what just yet though} IF I do these are some great tips.

Hilary Duff Funny or Die H Duff & I are the same age & even though I’m on my 2nd pregnancy I still find it hard to believe that Lizzie McGuire is having a baby. We’re like adults now.

Do you have anything awesome to share this week? Link it up in the comments.

*Found these things via Pinterest. You better be following me. 

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via 

I haven’t complained lately on here about my woe is me pregnancy. If I have refresh my memory in the comments {obviously besides this post}. I do plenty of complaining IRL. This second pregnancy is certainly harder than the last. There’s the emotional issues to contend with. Crying while watching Friends, sobbing over remembering the pool I grew up with changing lights, & a meltdown after leaving Target spending $200 & walking out with nothing “cool” but some face wash.

But raging emotions are all the rage in pregnancy so it’s not uncommon. But there is however, this new thing called the “older child” that I was not familiar with the first time around. It’s not as easy to just lazy around like before when the older child reminds you the minute your eyes open that it’s morning and you have to get out of bed right this minute or you know the cereal might just get up & walk away.

There’s the older child that practices his letters while sleeping which results in you adding extra flip counts to your body to avoid being kicked in the stomach, vagina or back.

There’s also the older child that chooses the week you’re moving to turn into a raging alcoholic asshole {aren’t they the same thing anyway?}. I don’t know what it was about last week but every single day without fail by 3 PM he was a straight ass. Screaming, whining, screaming, whining, rinse & repeat or asking a million pointless questions when I just wanted to sit & stare at the wall…in silence. There was more than once that week that I passed him off to his Dad stormed up the steps & said “I’m going to lose my mind. I’m done.” 

He was so extremely annoying last week that I just knew that there was no way that kind of extreme child assery could last another week. But I may have been wrong.

This morning he had a meltdown because his Dad didn’t say good-morning to him loud enough, he only whispered it. So at 7:30 while I was still trying to figure out my name & what day it was I have to holler for Shawn to properly greet this kid.

And if that wasn’t enough he’s got a cold that he’s milking “Oh Mommy I just have a cough oh no & my nose is stuffy! Mommmmmmmmy!”

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via

What I want to talk about today boys & girls is the art of apologizing…especially the fine art of apologizing in a marriage. When it comes to apologizing to my husband I don’t come to it very easily. And it is incredibly fair to say that Shawn apologizes first almost always &/or apologizes only often.

It’s certainly not that I think I’m always right. I mean I am right a lot, but not always. And I’m one of those people who once I get going on any given thing I have to stand by it. 

Take Sunday for example. We’re moving on Thursday & like with any move for any reason my husband gets very, very excited about it. He’s the type of person that when one door closes he emotionally detaches & that room with the closed-door is like a scary dungeon he never wants to visit again. At our current condo he has spent the last few weeks picking out all the things he dislikes about it & all the reasons the new place is the shizz. Usually I’m right there with him, but this time it’s different. The place we’re moving to is a short-term/corporate apartment that is reminiscent to a 2 bedroom Holiday Inn. The reason is because we need to find a bigger place obvs with baby on the way but with our time frame couldn’t find anything that was long-term suitable. So while I like change, this apartment isn’t necessarily on the “dream rental” list. But that’s ok. It’s temporary.

But my husband….

So Sunday after spending all day counting down the ways this condo has failed us I finally snapped at him when he counted down the last meals. And when I mean snapped, I mean I S.N.A.P.P.E.D. Poor guy just looked at me like I was crazy. And obvs I felt completely justified in my breakdown because duh this was born. And maybe I could have said “OMG! Please shut up. You’re driving me crazy.” and moved on, but people it wasn’t that contained to say the least. 

Maybe it’s the hormones {which have been raging. I even cried during the “The Nanny gave my son his first haircut” scene in I Don’t Know How She Does It} the exhaustion or just that I’m an over-critical, control freak, bitch. Whatever it is I lost it. And I owed him an apology. 

But instead I made what I thought was my super clever graphic & carried on into the morning still with my self-righteous haughty attitude. 

But my mid-day it was pretty clear that he wasn’t apologizing first & in fact was more hurt than I thought he was. And the moment he started talking about how upset my outburst had made him I knew that I was in fact wrong. Maybe right on some level, of you’re driving me crazy, but certainly not in the way I came across.

But gosh was that apology like torture. It’s just not easy to eat humble pie.

How do you apologize?

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