Shittiest Day Ever…Literally

You ever have one of those days? You know…the kind where it doesn’t even seem like real life and if someone were to tell you what was going to go down you would never believe them?

That was today.

It started like any normal day…as they do at 9-months pregnant, with an internal at my OBGYN (which is SUPER fun) to check for any progress. From there, I had grand plans to go home, get some work done, do laundry and continue nesting.

However, I walked in to see our chihuahua in position to poop right there on my floor. I rushed him outside, with the grace of a hippo, and we made it just in time. Then when I put the little fucker down, he proceeded to puke all over the floor. Guess he traded one bodily function for another.

I texted Jason and he asked me to drop him at the vet. BTdubs, you should also know, that our other dog just came back from the vet yesterday after having ANOTHER surgery from tearing a second ACL in a month. We singlehandedly keep the vet in business and he’ll probably be able to retire 10 years earlier because of us. You’re welcome, doc.

So here I am, already deviating from my plan, and en route to the vet, when it happens. Spike (the chihuahua) pukes all over my seat…right between my legs, which are in a semi-permanent ajar position on account of my protruding belly.

I moved him over to the passenger seat and that’s when he began to shit his brains out…all over my seat…as I’m driving and simultaneously screaming. Because he wasn’t just expelling waste from his body, he was stepping in it, getting it in between every crevis of his tiny paws.

But wait, there’s more.

I put him in the backseat just praying for traffic to let up so I could get to the fucking vet and he then performs shitshow part deux ALL over the back seat, and then jumps on the center console and drops more between my seats. I’ve never seen so much poop come out of an 8lb dog.

At this point I am crying and dry-heaving. I pull over into a random office parking lot, call my husband and start speaking in tongues. I was 100% hysterical. Jason is no moron, heard my voice and left work immediately (probably because he was a little scared of my exorcist-level emotion…as he should have been at that moment).

As I waited for him, I tried to clean up with the travel-size packet of baby wipes I had in my car, gagging the whole time, and having cars pull up asking if I was ok. I’m guessing the scene of a very pregnant woman, outside her car, all doors open, with a dog on a leash and handfuls of shit-covered baby wipes, is cause for concern.

When Jason arrived, I passed that dog like a dirty fucking baton and peaced-out to the car wash. Obviously I had to drive with the windows open because of the smell, and as I was on the phone crying to my mother, what happens?? A bird, on a wire above the red light I was waiting at, took my cracked window as an open invitation to ALSO take a shit right on my headrest. I wish I was kidding. When I told my mom what was happening through my ugly crying, she was laughing so hard she could not form a coherent sentence and most definitely peed her pants.

At the carwash, I pulled up and they greeted me with the obligatory, “How’s your day?” They did not get the obligatory, “Great! How about you?” in return. What they did get was a rant about how my car was covered in dog puke and shit (did I mention my seats are perforated?) and I needed them to make it like brand new. They just stared at me…then at my belly…then at me again.

I had texted a couple friends about my current situation and one of them basically saved the day (at least for the 2+ hours my car was being detailed). Shirley came to get me so I wouldn’t have to wait.

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Friends pick you up in times of need. Good friends snap a picture of your misery.

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My spirits were IMMEDIATELY lifted just being in her presence, because she does shit like put our karaoke song on without missing a beat.

I accompanied her to the mall where she had some business to take care of, and also hoping that the walking would put me into labor. Almost from the moment we got there, I got looks from mall goers ranging from horrified to lascivious. I don’t know why there is a fear of very pregnant women in public, but there is.

In addition to the crowd ogling me like my baby was crowning, we also saw the usual onslaught of Boca’s finest carting their dogs in strollers. But today was different, because there was a woman pushing around a cat. A CAT, you guys. So naturally we had to follow her into the AT&T store for Shirley to covertly get a picture of her, because how do you not?!?

cat

When my husband called to check-in (read: make sure I wasn’t humming and rocking myself in a dark corner), I told him I might not come home and may either check myself into a mental ward or spa… game-time decision.

But instead, after Shirley sniff-inspected my newly washed car like McGruff the Crime Dog, I gave myself a small pat on the back  for supporting a local business…

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And said “Boy Bye” to shitmageddon.

Spike is currently on car probation until I emotionally heal.

Here’s to a brand new, shit-free day, tomorrow!

The TRUTH about Pregnancy

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So, a while back I penned a brief blog post about some of the perils of pregnancy. But as I approach the finish line of my second pregnancy, I’m reminded about all of the things (really gross things), that most women don’t discuss. And I still don’t get why.

I mean, women are worse than men in terms of the things we talk about (at least my girlfriends are), so why are people so coy to talk about what happens to a woman’s body during pregnancy and labor.

Eff that!

Remember when I posted on Facebook asking for your gross stories? Well, I took them and wrapped them into a disgusting little package with a cute little bow for my latest Huffington Post story.

Read it, share it, own it.

You can click any of the links in this post or use this link>> http://huff.to/2jhI6rW

Just remember to always keep it real mamas!

 

New Year, New Perspective – NEW from Lifestyle Magazine

My January article for Lifestyle Magazine (page 15) is all about a New Year and New Perspective.

Particularly…PEACE. And not just the kind of peace you have when you get to pee alone.

 

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Happy New Year!!

xx

Rachel

Bedrest and Birthmarks

Pregnancy is no easy feat. Even despite that, I will never take it for granted. My first pregnancy was a walk in the park and as uneventful as they come. This one – 8 years later – is an entirely different ball of wax. There are a ton of details and stories around it that provide enough for a series of blog posts and will likely come later when I have a chance to breathe (in 18 years).

In addition to the raging obligatory nausea that can often accompany the first trimester, I have the unbearable heartburn that makes me feel like my esophagus might just fall out or burst and that at any moment I may even breathe fire like a fucking dragon. I’ve also experienced more “major” stuff this time around.

dragon

First, was my stay in the hospital with kidney stones almost two months ago. Just FYI this was the WORST pain I have ever experienced in my life (and I say that having pushed a baby out of my vagina). And guess what they can do for kidney stones in a preggo…NADA!

Because the options are basically blasting with radiation and surgery, all they could really do for me was offer pain meds to keep me comfortable, IV fluids, and wait for them to pass. Annnnddddd, that’s the first time my baby in utero and I did drugs together – specifically dilaudid and demerol. It was a real rager.

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On the heels of that shitshow, I ended up back in the hospital this past weekend with another issue that now has me on bedrest for the remainder of my pregnancy. At this point I feel like SLS and I should have a wing named after us, or at least be giving tours to expectant parents. On the bright side, my mom was there and that ALWAYS provides the levity I need to help me momentarily forget that I am hooked up to an IV, a fetal monitor and being pricked more times than a porn star on a busy day.

First, when my OBGYN came in the room, my mom thought she was just one of my friends she’d never met because she was sans lab coat and didn’t look all doctory. Instead she came in on call, dressed normally, wearing makeup, with her LV messenger on her hip. They were instant besties and hugging 60 seconds later. Then my high risk doctor happened to be there and my mom could NOT get over his shoes – which were those horrible shoes that look like gloves for your feet that nobody should ever wear, especially if you want to have sex ever again.

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She was like the cat who swallowed the canary, or that SNL Kristen Wiig character who can’t handle surprises, waiting for him to leave so she could discuss.

wiig

But really, the best part of the whole day came when the conversation turned to sex. My husband, best friend/sister-wife and I were talking about sex during pregnancy, to which my mom chimes in…

“Please, NOBODY should be having sex during pregnancy. It’s not good for the baby. The baby doesn’t need to be poked around.”

“Mom, you know that’s not really humanly possible, right?”

“Rachel, it’s not good for the baby. Plus, all that poking?!? How do you think babies get birthmarks?”

Drops mic. Exits stage.

It was at that point that my husband was laughing so hard in the corner he literally couldn’t breath. I was laugh/crying real tears. And my mom was dead serious and not understanding why we found it so funny.

She continued with, “Well, it hasn’t been disproven!”

Sidebar – I feel it’s important for context to also point out that my mother has a master’s degree in education and taught (wait for it…wait for it) health and sex education. Boom!

My husband then pointed to a birthmark I have had on the top of my chest my whole life and said to her, “Sooooo….is that where this came from?” She just looked at it, squinted a little and pretended she’s never seen it, shrugged and changed the subject.

No matter what, this woman can ALWAYS take the tension out of a situation and make you pee from laughing. I almost think there’s a viable business idea somewhere in here where we can rent her out to people in grim or serious situations who need a distraction in the form of a stand-up comedienne who doesn’t even know she’s performing.

Here we come Shark Tank…

The Nightmare Before Christmas & Hanukkah – NEW Parental Advisory Podcast!!

Did you miss us???

Then you’re going to be stoked for the latest episode of the Parental Advisory Podcast with my brothers from another mother – Pete & Mark from Daddy Mind Tricks.

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We’re covering all of the nightmares before Christmas and Hanukkah (or as I call it, Jewish Christmas…because c’mon let’s get real, that’s basically what it is.)

We’re kvetching about all of it – from Thanksgiving to New Year’s to Black Friday and everything in between.

Ch-Ch-Check it out.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN >>> bit.ly/iTunesPAP

 

 

It’s Better to Give – NEW From Lifestyle Magazine

November’s article for Lifestyle Magazine (page 21) is all about giving thanks.

Not only is Thanksgiving my favorite holiday, but I am HELLA thankful this year, that’s for sure. Let’s make sure our kids know what it means to be thankful and why it’s so important.

xx,

Rachel

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That Time 2 Jewish Hoodrats Fell In Love & Birthed a Really REAL Podcast

I met this chick (over the phone) although we do share many mutual friends, so I suppose we were bound to meet one day. We kibitzed on the phone, first about potential work stuff…but there were sparks.

So we agreed to meet for dinner.

Well, let me tell you that after 7 minutes into our lady date, we were spilling shit about our lives like we knew each other for decades. It was love a first sight I think.

We started texting immediately like a pre-pubescent teenage couple telling each other how much we liked each other. Then we had some PDA on social media, declaring our love for all the world to see.

Then she says four words that seriously took our relationship to the next level.

“Let’s Record a Podcast.”

And like a giddy school girl, I was like “Yes! I do!” Well that’s not entirely true…it was more like “Fuck yeah, let’s record a podcast!”

And so with my computer and the generosity of one of her contacts allowing us to use his recording studio, we met just “to test” the logistics. But instead, we accidentally (and organically) recorded our first episode of, The Keep It Real Moms!

Yup! Two self-proclaimed (somewhat) recovered hoodrats with pasts filled with giant hoop earrings, brown lipstick and mavi jeans, found their way to each other. Because, Kismet.

We decided we were done with the unicorn-laced bullshit other moms pretend go on in their lives and wanted to revel in our crazy, chaotic, happy, sad, complicated, perfectly imperfect trials and tribulations of marriage, motherhood and everything in between.

So….here it is. Our first baby together in what’s sure to be a long-standing “marriage” of sorts.

Nothing is off-limits and we promise to Keep it Real.

LISTEN HERE >>> http://bit.ly/2fikbpP

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Word to your mutha.

The Motherhood Edition of Jewish Holidays – NEW from Suburban Misfit Mom

As featured on Suburban Misfit Mom

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The Motherhood Edition of Jewish Holidays

By Jen Schwartz (The Medicated Mommy) & Rachel Sobel (Whine & Cheez – its)

Early fall is Jewish holiday season. That means going to temple, eating apples and honey in hopes of a sweet year ahead, family dinners filled with equal parts kvelling & kvetching, and a day of starvation fasting that culminates in the annual carb loading frenzy with bagels, lox, noodle kugel, and cookies. Lots of cookies. You know…a “light” meal.

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And if your child attends a Jewish preschool/day school, you are basically screwed and they may as well close for the month of October with the amount of days you have off.

That’s right folks, we are currently living in the space between the Jewish New Year (Rosh Hashanah) and the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur) where we atone for our sins and hope to make it into the Book of Life for another year.

Lucky for us, Jews get to make New Years’ resolutions twice. You know, if for some reason you bailed on the ones you made in January for the non-secular New Year, here’s a second chance in October. I don’t know about you, but we’re still eating cake, ice cream and half-consumed bags of goldfish and desperately trying to fit into our skinny jeans because even though we get dressed in workout clothes every day, we don’t actually go work out every day. It’s kind of like our uniform for school drop off and the couple hours following. That is until we can pee and shower without a child opening the door a trillion times asking us to change the channel when the remote control is actually in their little sticky hands.

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Thinking about how you want to live in the Jewish New Year is both a blessing and a curse…because as you start to make promises to yourself about the year ahead, you are also going backwards to relive those times this past year you might not be so proud of. And as moms, there are definitely a few that come to mind. So, rather than focus on personal transgressions this year, we are confessing ours sins of motherhood. Let this be our atonement for:

  • Lying to our children (and maybe even setting the clocks forward) to convince them it’s bedtime so you have enough time to shower and settle in before Bachelor in Paradise.
  • Telling them a store is closed (at 3pm on a Thursday) because you just don’t feel like going to buy another pack of shopkins.
  • Having a salad for dinner but then polishing off the abandoned chicken-nuggets your child left on their plate.
  • Forgetting to wash a school uniform and digging a dirty one out of the hamper, spraying it with Febreze and sending them on their way.
  • Being so desperate to finish homework that you may have “led the witness” to arrive at the correct answer.
  • Letting your child watch back-to-back (and by back-to-back we mean 10) episodes of their favorite show just so you could put the finishing touches on your contributed article with the looming deadline.
  • Regifting a target gift card for a birthday party because you spaced and forgot to grab a gift.

In light of these confessions, here are our Jewish New Year’s resolutions– what we hope to do better or more of as moms in the coming year. And if we fail or don’t hit them all, January is right around the corner!

  • Telling the truth, as in when we inform our little ones that ice cream is not a dinner food, we also don’t eat ice cream for dinner or in other words, I will fit into those skinny jeans!
  • Not beating ourselves up when we need just one more hour of sleep so, without making any eye contact, we slip the iPad through the cracked door of our kids’ bedrooms.
  • Losing the guilt when our child watches ten episodes of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in one sitting because binge watching is clearly a skill they will need when they get older.
  • Admitting that our kids are assholes sometimes because when they are lying face down on the floor screaming, kicking their legs, and shouting “NO” on repeat over not being ready to go to sleep or do anything you ask them to do, they are being assholes!
  • Not stressing about our kids still sleeping in pullups at night because let’s be real, who wants to start their morning cleaning up shit, changing sheets, and doing even more laundry?
  • Understanding that it’s okay to ask our husbands to do parent things like watch the kids, help with homework, feed them dinner, and handle bath time because they aren’t simply babysitters, they are dads and it’s their job too!
  • Realizing motherhood is effing hard and it’s okay to serve cereal for dinner (hey, it’s good enough for breakfast), put ourselves first, ask for what we want, leave the kids home with a babysitter, and drink all the wine…because happy mommy equals happy everyone!

smm-bev

 

 

Kvetch Your Heart Out

Every Jewish girl learns the art of “Kvetching” (yiddush for complaining) at a young age. It’s just part of our shtick. And guess what…many Jewish men are far worse than the women. Like MASTER kvetchers.

So it’s only fitting that I have a new project writing for an awesome morning show site called The Morning Kvetch! 

Check out my debut article (rant): Dads Don’t Babysit, So Cut The Shit

Babysitting Post

 

 

A Day in the Life of a Momblogger, Told in GIFs

(As seen on Suburban Misfit Mom)

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Some people have a hard time understanding exactly what I do. They can’t wrap their head around the life of a momblogger. Particularly people who spend their time chained to a cubicle, drinking subpar coffee and eating pastries left over from the 9am sales meeting (Been there, done that).

So, I decided to paint a little picture of a day in the life. My life, specifically.

While there was a dramatic shift in my professional life as I abandoned a full-time “real” job (and a steady paycheck) to write/blog full-time, contrary to what some think…I DO actually work. And even amidst the regular interruptions of life, including picking up a sick (or faking sick to be home with mama) child, or dropping off the toy she forgot for fun friday, or picking up drycleaning my husband couldn’t get to, or doing 13 loads of laundry…I manage to churn out A LOT of writing.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and it’s totally true. But you know what gets a point across even more than a picture??? A GIF (Mom, that’s basically a moving picture…because I know she’s going to ask). Those little animated gems pop up everywhere and spread through social media quicker than Paris Hilton’s entire music career.

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Truth be told, the life of a momblogger is not very glamorous. At least mine isn’t (am I doing something wrong?!) From getting a child dressed, fed and out to door to getting some form of dinner on the table in the evening, it can be a downright shitshow. But it’s my shitshow.

I can’t be alone, right? Mombloggers, holler if ya hear me!

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Who needs an alarm clock when you can have your eyes manually pried open at 6am by your spawn as she simultaneously asks if you’re up?

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Then, before I start getting bossed around, I need caffeine or I will lose my shit.

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Once I feel human it’s time to get my child, who has a VERY strong mind of her own, dressed for school. P.S. She wears a uniform and still manages to put me through the ringer!

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I haven’t even brushed my teeth and I think I might only have one contact lens in, but I need to make lunch, and fast. My daughter is also a picky eater, so if I want her to actually consume her lunch, it needs to be perfect to meet her standards.

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While she’s contained at the breakfast table, I have 30 seconds to throw something on my body so that the school administrators don’t think I am homeless when I walk her in.

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Make it out the door, holding everything, including her backpack. It’s like I somehow sprout extra arms in an instant. And we’re off.

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Get back home in time to hop on the treadmill so that the bags of cheezits I had for breakfast, as I’m trying to get everyone else ready, don’t catch up with me.

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And now it’s time for me to actually get some writing in.

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Oh, but wait…don’t get too comfortable because school just called and my kid is sick and needs to come home.

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Get her back. Get refocused. Bang out some blogs. Talk to some advertisers/partners. RSVP to some events. And now we’re finally in a groove.

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Until I realize, it’s time to think about dinner. Shit. Can’t we order pizza like we did the last 14 times?

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Finally, everyone is fed and I can have a glass of wine

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And then folks, we end the day almost exactly as it started, but replace getting out the door with getting a kid into bed and replace the school uniform with PJs.

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Then I shove dinner in my mouth. I don’t even fucking care what I’m eating. I just need sustenance.

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Finally, it’s bedtime for ME. Which won’t last long because it’s only a matter of time until my child wakes up for the 1st of 5 times throughout the night.

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And then, just like clockwork, it’s a new day…but it’s the same shit. It’s like Groundhog Day up in here.

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Stay strong fellow mamas…we can do this…I think…

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