Mommy’s Musings Archive

Six Months!

Half a year ago today, I was having a party in my L&D room as I cruised through contractions (thank you, epidural, courtesy of Dr. Hunk!) and because every party has a pooper — in this case, the guest of honor — the party was cut short as our baby decided that nope, she was only going to make an entrance on an operating table instead! So at 10:25 p.m., after 14 hours of pitocin-induced labor because, again, she had no plans of leaving her little warm and snuggly home, we had a baby.

Half a year ago. HALF. A whole year. Cut in half. And that’s today.

The Divine Miss M, Madelyn Shana, is six months old today and I can’t believe the time has gone so quickly. She delights us every day and we are constantly in awe of how much she grows and changes. Six months ago, I could have never predicted what our baby would look and act like in February, so when I think about what the next six months will bring, I think our August will be filled with many lovely surprises.

This month, Madelyn:

  • Is rolling around like Princeton does when he finds a nice patch of mysterious-but-yummy-to-him patch of grass. We’ll set her down on her play mat, turn around real quick, and come back to find her on a completely different part of the room and not at all on the play mat. Don’t worry, the play mat is not elevated. However, the changing table is the new Olympic venue for gymnastics. Madelyn now makes diaper changes an athletic event with lots of rolls and squirms on the contoured pad. Changing a diaper is exhausting and challenging, but I’ve learned that as long as I keep a toy on hand, she can be distracted into staying still.
  • Holds her bottle all by herself! Part of me is sad because she doesn’t need me at mealtimes anymore, but the other part of me is throwing a flippin’ party that I can give her the bottle, keep her happy (and quiet), and go on my merry way through the market, Target, and Nordstrom. Drink up, little darlin’! Mama is going shopping and actually getting to browse!
  • Makes this fantastic sound when she’s super excited or happy. It’s kind of like a backwards laugh with a screech and as horrific as this sounds in print, it’s actually really cute to hear. When she makes this noise, her eyes light up real big and her cheeks look like they’re going to get stuck inside her ears. This is usually followed by a series of giggles which, forget about it, kill me into mush.
  • Began eating cereal. We started her on baby oatmeal mixed with formula and at first, she was not that impressed. I think it was more about the inability to swallow and use her mouth properly. But later in her fifth month, we gave it another try, and she totally gets eating. Thank goodness, too, because if she had decided that food didn’t interest her, she would have had to find a new family. Friedmans are eaters. She sits in her Bumbo on the table and we sing the “Sittin’ In My High Chair” song (I know, we’re liars. She’s actually in her Bumbo. One day she’ll read this and be ruined.). She ends up in a big mess and it’s all so deliciously cute. We get through about five or six spoonfuls before she’s all done, but it’s still a good amount that helps her practice and get ready for the more exciting foods that are about to start for her (pureed peas, anyone?).
  • Understands when it’s time to come out of her car seat. When I start to unbuckle her, Madelyn lifts up her arms as if to say, “Come get me!” and then smiles real big as she comes up toward us. It’s amazing how babies soak up routines. And then, to top it off, she wraps her arms around our necks and lays her head on our shoulders. It’s a major case of warm fuzzies.

  1. nicole
    2/14/2012 8:23 PM

    is she wearing the headband i got her?? XOXOXO

A Hairy Situation

by Alison Friedman in Marvelous Madelyn, Mommy's Musings

Madelyn and I currently have something in common that’s affecting our vanity: we are bald.

Before I go out and redeem our frequent buyer card for Rogaine for Women and Babies, I should at least spare Madelyn’s ego and declare that she’s starting to grow her hair back. Me? Well, I’m losing it in volumes.

One of the best parts about being pregnant, other than wearing horizontal stripes with no penalties, is the luscious, thick, shiny hair that adorns the top of a woman who’s with child. I knew that this was one of the good side effects and it was definitely a silver lining as my feet developed ankle muffin tops and I made quarterly trips to the bathroom every hour thanks to the bladder compression. So yes, pregnancy came with its fair share of disturbing, annoying, and ugly symptoms, but at least I could rock the hair toss-toss.

And then I had a baby.

Within three months, my hair started to fall out. All those hormones and nutrients that were keeping my baby — and my hair! — alive were no longer working in my body and so now I continue to leave the shower with a hairy souvenir in my hands. It’s a little depressing. Ho hum. Time to start getting clever with hair dos and parts and products.

Madelyn, on the other hand, was born with a tuffet of hair that would have been soft and cushy for Little Miss Muffet. And just like me, around three months after she was born, her hair began to disappear. It wasn’t even really noticeably going anywhere. Just, one day, she woke up, and there was less hair. She doesn’t seem to be too concerned about it, but it’s probably because she can’t see the little bald spot in the back of her head. Grandpa Madelyn’s spot just started to sprout some new growth and the coverage is getting thicker everywhere.

I didn’t even notice this hairtastic change until I started flipping through photos over the past six months. Girlfriend looks like she was born wearing a toup! In fact, her hair was the first feature Dr. Fiiiine described when they were first able to see her during my surgery. I’d like to think that I’ve kissed it all off since then. But, I have a feeling we’ve both been a little hormonal which caused our hair loss: her puppy fur and my, well, my ol’ bitch coat.

With the promise of new hair coming true, I can’t wait to see her cute curls and clip in bows directly through her locks. Hopefully she won’t get too frustrated with me when I can’t do the trendy hairstyles on her before she goes to school every morning. I suppose I should learn to French braid now and keep practicing. I promise never to brush through her curls and create a frizzy hot mess (I’m looking at you, Mom.). I predict that 15 years from now, she’ll beg me to purchase a flat iron for her so she can straighten her naturally curly hair. And when she goes on a first date with a guy (if her father ever lets her out of her room), she’ll probably nervous-twirl her hair as she flirts (guilty).

Hair is such a huge part of a girl’s identity and I can’t wait to see what’s a-HEAD (snort!) as Madelyn’s new wisps begin to sprout through.

As for me, I guess the only way to get my hair back is to get pregnant again.

Hmmm… maybe I’ll just stick a hat on.

  1. Cathy
    2/8/2012 11:00 PM

    lolololol “a hairy souvenir” lolololololol!!!!

Swing, Baby, Swing

by Alison Friedman in Marvelous Madelyn, Mommy's Musings

Madelyn has discovered a new hobby that is much more fun than sucking on her own feet or being benchpressed by me. I know, it’s hard to believe that she can think something is more entertaining than my goofy voices and faces, but it’s true. She just recently experienced her first trip to the park and her first ride on the swings.

Based on her utter glee for the swings, this girl is going to totally love roller coasters or rides with drops. She’s also going to have to find a new mom who will go on them with her because I’m too scared. I am the purse holder at the end of the Splash Mountain line on group trips to Disneyland. But who’s the smart one when everyone comes off the log all soaked and dripping and I’m warm and dry? That’s what I thought.

My mom and I walked to the park in her neighborhood which was filled with cute toddlers and other young and pretty moms who wore fantastic Lululemon outfits. I was hoping to make friends with them, but my priorities changed when I realized just how fun my baby was on her first swing ride that wasn’t a product of Graco. I had to stuff the high chair cover in with her, not to protect her from the park swing germs (but, okay, bonus points), but because her Scarlet O’Hara waist didn’t fill up the swing, so I padded it around her to keep her stable.

Once she was properly placed, I started to push her lightly and I wasn’t sure how she’d react, but Madelyn loved it! I could not stop watching her face light up as the wind blew through her wispy hairs and her scrumptious cheeks flapped in the swing’s direction. I got a little weepy as I lightly pushed her in the baby swing and looked over next to us to see two little girls who were swinging on the big-girl swings and deciding if they should play Mermaids or make up a dance next. That’ll be Madelyn one day with her girlfriends and I realized right there as I gave her a little more height on the swing that she’s already been swinging through the past 5.5 months and that swing isn’t stopping. It will always be going up and down. Scary. Exciting. Bliss.

For now, there won’t be any important life decisions about what to play next and I won’t have to watch from the sidelines as she plays with other girls. It’s just Madelyn and me, and we’ll continue to visit the park and I’ll hear my girl giggle through the air.

  1. 2/8/2012 12:42 PM

    Whoa, I also HATE the “rollercoasters” at Disneyland…and 6 Flags, forget it about it. Never been because there are no rides I’m not afraid of there. WHY ARE WE TWINS? ITS CRAZY.the end.

Working (Out) Mom

by Alison Friedman in Mommy's Musings

As I type this, I am trying to ignore the jiggle.

You see, since ballooning up for a 9-month period, being cut open and having a baby ripped out of me, and being lazy on the couch for 5 months as I figure out how to raise an infant into a functioning adult, I have become a little… squishy. I was never exactly a Barbie doll (ya know, because I’m a brunette, psshhhhh), but since my c-section, I definitely feel like I’m Humpty Dumpty and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men did a crappyass job of putting me back together again. I swear to dog, a post-partum woman’s body reconfigures in the strangest ways, but I decided I’m sick of complaining about it. I took charge and joined a boot camp thanks to my very good friend Welles.

She and I have been going to boot camp non-stop for four weeks. I know. Only a month. But we haven’t missed one day! We have a saying: “No matter what.” We go to boot camp — NO MATTER WHAT. It starts at 6:45 a.m. (yes, a.m.) and we work out until 7:45 and that’s it! In one hour, I have woken up, I have uttered real words in the English language (I usually have a no talking rule for the first 30 minutes of my awake time), and I have sweat. It’s so much easier to go when I know I have a buddy waiting for me. The shame of giving an excuse as to why I can’t go is worse than going. And the devotion of being there for her is stronger than the urge to ditch. So, I suck it up when the alarm goes off at 6:15 and I throw clothes on and watch the sun rise on my way there.

I hate working out. I really do. I’ve never been athletic, but thankfully, it’s okay. Trainer Adam is encouraging without being an ass. He can modify workouts for varying abilities. And, best of all, I don’t feel stupid if I flounder an exercise because everyone in there is trying and no one in there is an Olympian. The circuit we do takes us through six different stations that we stay at for one minute each. While each minute is the longest minute of my life, it’s also only a minute, so it’s not enough time to hate it. We do the circuit three times and by then, we’re pooped!

Attending boot camp five days a week has been a goal I never thought I’d meet. And I’m also eating really well! I’m not depriving myself of too much, but I definitely have cut back on my most loved foods: bread, rolls, muffins, bread, bread, bread. Just don’t bring me to Cheesecake Factory with that beloved brown bread or I may explode! Not sure how tough I am yet.

So, with this exercise thing and this eating well thing, I’ve managed to lose ten pounds! Coolness! I know it won’t always continue to come off in that amount, but it’s encouraging to see results. I don’t even care about the number on the scale too much. I am more concerned about how I feel and how I look naked and the way my clothes fit. I’m less winded on the stairs. I don’t feel the need to cover up every mirror in the house. And I am back into some pre-pregnancy jeans.

Okay, with the help of the pre-zip suck-in. But still!!

  1. Welles
    2/6/2012 3:21 PM

    Love you too Buddy – No Matter What!!!!! When I look over and see you trying, I know I have to keep going. If you can do it – I can do it!

  2. kathy
    2/6/2012 1:26 PM

    way to go!!!! i will never forget how much work it took to get off, dare i say…42 lbs, that i put on when i was pregnant. keep it up, you look great!!!!!

  3. Rachel
    2/6/2012 11:19 AM

    So proud of you Ali! You are doing a great job!!

Apparently, I’m Still Pregnant

by Alison Friedman in Mommy's Musings, Pregnancy

Last week, Bryan took me out on a date that had been scheduled for weeks in advance. I was so excited to get dressed up. Put on mascara. Wear a bra. Dumping the mommy uniform and exchanging it for the trophy wife costume was such a cheap thrill, and being surprised was even more exciting.

We drove up to parking garage of The Grove and I was hoping that the big surprise date was a tea party at the American Girl Store. It was either dining with dolls that cost more than most people’s monthly mortgage (those dolls are the 1%) or going on a shopping spree through Nordstrom after hours, but Bryan confirmed the date was neither of those experiences. I quickly mourned the absence of hanging out with the threads of Savvy and t.b.d., and then we took a turn toward the movie theatre. Why we would schlep to Hollywood to go to a movie theatre at The Grove when we have perfectly good theatres out in the ‘burbs was beyond me until we walked into the lobby and encountered a line. I knew it must have been for some special showing of something, but had no idea what it was until I saw an official-looking woman walking by with a poster and an easel. The artwork was recognizable as something I have been dying to see ever since I heard about the project almost two years ago; We were in line to see an exclusive screening of the NBC show Smash that debuts after that football game thing in February.

Girl squeal times a trillion.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We had arrived at 5:30 and we weren’t allowed into the theatre until about 7, so we made friends with the people in line around us. Since I didn’t know the agenda of the evening, I wasn’t sure what the food situation would be — and neither did Bryan — so since I was a little hungry, I ditched the line and got take-out from the restaurant next door to munch on while we waited to get inside the screening.

I perused the menu and decided on something snack-ish and easy to eat while standing in line. I chose chicken tenders. The menu indicates they’re served with ranch dressing, which is one of the many white condiments I refuse to eat, so I told the guy who took my order, a no-personality 20-something guy with tattoos freckling his neck, to just leave out the ranch and give me BBQ sauce instead. And this is how the conversation went:

Thuggish waiter: So you can’t have ranch dressing, right?
Alison: Well, no, I just don’t like it. But I love BBQ sauce, so I’ll take that.
Thuggish waiter: Yeah, but I heard you’re not allowed to have it.
Alison: Oh, um, I’m allowed to have it. I just don’t like it. So… yeah.
Thuggish waiter: So your doctor doesn’t tell you not to eat ranch dressing? Because my girlfriend’s doctor told her not to have it and she’s, like, ten weeks along or something.
Alison: Wait. WHAT?
Thuggish waiter: The baby. You can’t have it because of the baby.
Alison: Oh! Um. Yeah. I already HAD my baby. So, I just don’t like ranch dressing. I’m not pregnant.
Thuggish waiter: You’re not? Oh.
Alison: Yeah, [awkward laughter at the douchebag-ness of this guy] HA HA HA HA HA, I already had a baby. Anyway, yeah HA HA HA HA HA, just no ranch. I don’t like it.

I think he blushed out of embarrassment, but I couldn’t tell because of his tattoos.

And then, to save face, he threw in free cookies and brownies, which is like, so not fair because that’s clearly why I look pregnant!

So, on the big date night out after the end of my pregnancy, apparently I looked pregnant. Which is almost kind of maybe perhaps a little bit funny because I was pregnant. Five months ago.

It’s not that I let the thuggish waiter get to me, but he kind of confirmed something for me that I already knew. It’s time to get serious about being unpregnant. I mean, I enjoyed blowing up like the Good Year blimp for 40 weeks, but now I have a five-month-old and I think it’s fine time I appear to not be carrying her Irish twin. So we are saying bye bye to the poochy tummy. I signed up for a boot camp, which is a miracle because it’s no secret that I am anything but athletic. And to be there and working out at 6:30 a.m. must mean that those Mayans are right about the end of the world and all that jazz.

It’s been nine days of an intense circuit training regimen and eating healthy power foods. I’ve lost six pounds. I mean, probably only due to the shock my body is going through, but I notice a difference. I don’t have a weight goal. I’m not even obsessed with the size on the tags of my clothes. I just want to look good naked. That simple. We already know I don’t like caloric condiments like ranch dressing so I am on the right path!

I really am cracking up about how clueless that guy was to insinuate I was pregnant. I’m not really insulted because he wasn’t that intelligent. I mean, unless you can see a woman crowning, every smart man knows not to gamble that tricky and amorphous tummy which can be the result of a big dinner or a disguised, front-wearing fanny pack. Or, in my case, the deflated home of an evicted baby.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, Smash is a smash! It is definitely going to be the best new show on television and I highly recommend it to everyone. It’s just so perfectly produced and I was literally lifted out of my seat and blown away by the concept. And, you know, it’s not easy for a pregnant woman to be blown away.

Smirk.

  1. Patty
    1/20/2012 5:40 AM

    Alison, I LOVE your writing. You always put a smile on my face…an ear to ear grin, complete with giggles actually!!! As for the “thuggish waiter”, you’re right…he should have known better. I’m pretty sure that that is one of the top 10 rules in the “how to be a man” handbook but he obviously can’t read. Sometimes a doofus is just a doofus, even when they are in those high powered, fast food executive positions!!;)