5 Truths for Breastfeeding Moms – NEW for Huffington Post

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Fresh content today from me on The Huffington Post ALL about some truths breastfeeding moms may face. Including but not limited to, the painful mid-sleep rollover and milk hubris. Oh and the fact that you can look like you got implants on the way home from Publix!

It’s all in there!

Bellefit Postpartum Girdles and Corsets

Credit Where Credit is Due

My mother likes to take credit…for pretty much everything.

I’m not kidding. Whether you scored a great deal on a pair of shoes, or won the Nobel Peace Prize, it’s somehow linked to her.

And she’s serious.

100%.

Not only does she like credit, but she will change the details of stories around to make it so that she is fully responsible for whatever awesomeness you have just achieved. She will also do the reverse and claim she had nothing to do with it if your luck goes south.

Need some examples?

  1. My wedding. The second one to be clear. Because she casually mentioned that we should consider Bourbon Steak in the Turnberry resort in the infancy stages of wedding planning, she loves to point it out every chance she gets that we DID in fact get married there and that the wedding was perfect. Every. Chance. She. Gets. It could be as subtle as someone commenting on a wedding pic and her saying, “Yes the kids got married there. It was my idea.” Or more bravado, like pointing it out while we are on her balcony, you might hear her say something along the lines of, “Ava, see that building over there? That’s where mommy and Jason got married! Isn’t it beautiful? It was all gram’s idea. They wanted to get married in some ugly room at a restaurant in Boca that doesn’t even compare to anything in Aventura. Because Aventura is awesome.”
  2. My house. To be fair, my parents were very involved in the house hunting. It was the first time I was ever purchasing a home and I value their opinion. Plus, Bob is a pro with a contractor background so I needed him to point out any red flags before we pulled the trigger. However, my mom seems to remember it very differently and claims to have actually found the house we currently live in (not the case). And when I point out how that’s not at all what went down, she changes her story a little saying things like…”you were looking at dumps on the other side of town until I convinced you to look in this area.”
  3. My stroller. I have like 32 strollers so I didn’t want another one. My mom was trying to convince me (read: nag me) to get a snap & go while Sienna is still in an infant car seat. I did and it’s definitely a huge help. But, every time I take the thing out of the trunk and my mom is around, she circles it like a shark wearing a shit-eating grin and says, “That’s a nice looking stroller.  I mean really. Who told you to get it?”
  4. Diagnosing any medical condition. Jason calls her Dr. Westfall because she thinks she can diagnose any ailment in anyone. Just tell her your symptoms and she will spit out a disease just like WebMD. If she happens to be right you’ll never hear the end of it and if she’s wrong, she’ll find a way to spin it. Either way, she’s right.
  5. Stellar negotiation skills. She goes on and on about what a good negotiatior she is. Specifically with car leases. Because she has a CRAZY low monthly payment for a luxury car…..because she probably put like $15K down. But that’s neither here nor there. She also uses said negotiation skills at Target where she pretends she’s at a folding table on any corner of NYC haggling over a fake Prada. She gives zero fucks. And 99% of the time they listen to her!

That’s just a small sampling of her credit-mongering, but make so mistake that it’s pretty much part of daily conversation and there is no statute of limitations. She’s still talking about things dating back to when I was 14. And it happens with little things too, like telling me how amazing my hair looks and then swiftly reminding me that she’s the one who always tells me to keep it long. Or complimenting a pair of shoes and reminding me that she was the one who told me to look in Bloomingdale’s to find them. Or commenting on how much better Sienna’s fussiness is ever since I bought new bottles like she told me to. It goes on and on and on.

As much as I tease her and bust her balls, I do have to give credit where credit is due. You see, Arlyne is not just a main character in my blogs. She’s not just accidentally hilarious and totally gangster. She is, undoubtedly, the best fucking mother on the planet. She also happens to be the best mother-in-law and grandmother. And, I fully giver her credit for the following, which is by no means an exhaustive list.

I think one of the most important lessons she’s bestowed on me is to not take shit from anyone and not to let anyone bully you or knock you down. Along this same lines, she is the epitome of a mama bear. She taught me to fiercely protect my young and to destroy anyone who tries to mess with them. This woman will hold a grudge against you for the rest of your life if you even look at either of her children sideways.

She’s also the best cheerleader. She celebrates my successes and kvells, no matter how small. She loves me so hard and I feel it in every fiber of my body. I want my girls to feel that same way about me. She has always gone above and beyond for her kids and spoils the shit out of mine. Ava lives for her and to see the bond they have makes me burst with pride. I know Sienna will feel the same. She’s the fun grandma. The one who teaches you how to make prank phone calls and will use the word “fart” in a game of hangman.

She taught me all the “mensch” things like never showing up to someone’s home for an event/dinner/whatever, without something for them. To always write thank you notes when someone gives a gift. She’s not a regular mom, she’s a cool mom. She’d never be caught dead in a sweater set from Chicco’s or Ann Taylor and rocks a black beater and skinny jeans pretty much every day. She’s probably the reason I don black nail polish and skull & cross bone tanks in the carpool line.

She’s hilarious and doesn’t even understand why we are laughing half the time. The things that come out of her mouth are sometimes hard to mentally prepare for, but also the best. Watching her go through an ugly divorce and surviving breast cancer showed me by example what a fighter looks like. She’ll hug me and let me cry if I’m at a low but in the same breath tell me to get my ass up and remember who I am – the little girl who pushed her way to the front of the group in a dance recital when I was like 4, because I wanted to be front and center.

One of the things I admire most about her is the fact that nobody keeps it realer than her. She tells it like it is and owns who SHE is, no matter what. You can’t rattle her and if she feels under attack she will defend herself, strike back and take you down.

There is nobody on the planet like her and I’m so glad she’s ours. Happy Mother’s Day Mom. We love the shit out of you!

 

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How Moms Are Like Superheroes – New for HuffPo

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Did you  know that as a mom, you totally hone superhero-like skills that you probably never knew you even had?!

It’s true.

Read all about it in my latest article for the Huffington Post.

CLICK HERE TO READ >> http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/58caaf07e4b0e0d348b340ea

 

NEW Yo! Momma: Navigating the Co-Sleeping Trap

Who’s ready for another collabo with my boys over at Daddy Mind Tricks!?!?

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Welcome to our monthly joint venture we like to call, Yo! Momma. We open up the mailbag to answer the questions from our most faithful readers and bring definitive resolution in the age-old battle of the sexes.

We do so in the only way we know how: with zero filter and 100-percent brutal honesty.

In our last edition, we took on the topic of contributing more around the house and how to avoid looking like a bumbling, stumbling, moronic father figure that a TV sitcom would proudly feature.

In the latest edition collaboration of the best parenting bloggers on the Internet, we’re discussing the idea of co-sleeping and how it can wreak havoc on a couple’s opportunities to enjoy a little sexy time.

You ask. We attempt to answer … and then Rachel from Whine & Cheez(Its) drops some knowledge on your ass to provide the feminine point of view that we all truly need in our lives.

Welcome to another edition of … Yo! Momma.

My wife is all about the co-sleeping with our 13-month old and I’m ready to resume irregularly sexy time stuff. How the hell do I get the kid out of our bed so I can finally have some fun with wifey?

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Pete: Welp, this sounds like the perfect chance to get a little creative outside of the bedroom, if you ask me. We don’t have to hit the time machine on sex life and travel back to the days of missionary position only pleasure under the lights before retreating back to our separate beds after an evening of the Donna Reed Show.

Not having enough sex in your own bed at night because your kid is in the way? Turn up the heat on some daytime fun whenever you can get the chance. Hire a babysitter and get it on in a Burger King bathroom like Humpty (Shock-G) from Digital Underground. Ship the kid off to family member for a night. Get a hotel and fuck like rabbits all over some freshened towels.

My point: don’t be afraid to find some creativity in the game of romance.

Now, that being said, why the hell is your toddler still sleeping in your bed and not in his or her own? Handle that. Perhaps a romp or two in your kitchen while the kid is watching Sesame Street in the other room will help unload some stress and provide clarity into how to get this little one doing 10-12 hours nightly in another bed.

Putting first things first, though – have a conference with wifey, get on the same page about the sleep training situation and get out of the hell that is co-sleeping with a toddler … before your little general can no longer stand tall and proud.

Rachel: First of all – back the fuck up. Chances are she’s not co-sleeping because she enjoys that hot furnace of a baby body all up on her, with sporadic kicks to the gut, arms across her face and a general disrespect for personal space. She’s basically at her “personal touch” limit.

Navigating the ever-changing sleeping patterns of an infant/toddler (among all of the other shit) is no joke and can make you feel like you’re taking crazy pills and hallucinating from sleep deprivation. She’s also probably bombarded by those passive-aggressive “sanctimommies” on the regular, about how their little angel was sleeping alone, through the night at 6 days old. That’s always super fun.

Bottom line? She’s fucking exhausted and tending to a child in those first few years leaves little time for rest, and yes even regular sexcapades. She wants to have sex with you, I promise (unless you’re a raging asshole). She’s just trying to figure it all out. Maybe instead of making her feel like all you want is to boot the kid from the bed so you can knock some boots, show some compassion.

Ask her what you can do to help with the transition. Offer to take another feeding. Do things proactively … sink filled with bottles? Clean it. Running low on diapers? Grab them at the store. Show her you are all about the co-parenting thing and that she has a partner, not just a sex-deprived spouse.

Nothing is more of a panty dropper than a partner who’s understanding AND all-in and hands-on with the kid stuff. It will happen. I promise.

Now it’s YOUR turn. Do you have some more questions for our crackpot team of experts? Drop us a line in the comments section, or hit us up on email at DaddyMindTricks [at] gmail.com and maybe we’ll feature your question in the next edition of Yo! Momma.

Yo! Momma: I Want To Do More Around The House

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Hi, my name is Rachel and I am super Type A and have a hard time relinquishing control of mundane household and kid-related activities…

So when my brothers from another mother, Pete & Mark from Daddy Mind Tricks tackled THIS reader question…I was ALL over it!

Check out the latest installment of Yo! Momma, about pitching in around the house.

Oh, and got a question you want to submit to get the he said/she said take? Send it our way (see info at the end of the post to submit).

_________________________________________________________________

Welcome to our monthly joint venture we like to call, Yo! Momma. We open up the mailbag to answer the questions from our most faithful readers and bring definitive resolution in the age-old battle of the sexes.

We do so in the only way we know how: with zero filter and 100-percent brutal honesty.

Last time, we took on the topic of sensitive boobs and how to navigate around a perennially sore subject.

In the latest edition collaboration of the best parenting bloggers on the Internet, we’re discussing the tactful approach for men to get more involved around the house, even when wifey isn’t too keen on the concept.

You ask. We attempt to answer … and then Rachel from Whine & Cheez(Its) drops some knowledge on your ass to provide the feminine point of view that we all truly need in our lives.

Welcome to another edition of … Yo! Momma.

Mommy wants to get everything done around the house and won’t let me chip in to help  – admittedly, I’m awful at just about everything outside of boiling water, so I need her to Yoda me. But, I want to have a bigger role, so how do I respectfully tell her that I’m game for more stuff without hurting any feelings or getting in the way?

Pete: Okay, my dude. Time to play a little tough love. You’re going to have to suck it up, put the big boy pants on and learn how to get some shit done around the house – at least learn how to cook a damn meal because that’s some ridiculous shit.

I do applaud that you recognize this flaw in the gameplan and would like to call an audible here to get more involved. Here’s a three-step plan for success that will help ease the transition from bumbling dude to super dad.

First, time to have a chat with wifey. Teammates gotta talk to one another. LeBron James and Kyrie Irving communicate to each other in practice, on the sideline and most definitely on the court. Let your partner know that you want to contribute some more and that you are going to try to improve. Maybe offer to start small and take over a task here or there – like boiling some water to make some pasta at least once a week to cook some dinner.

Second, probably time to learn how to get some things done around the house. Ask wifey to show you some of the smaller things to establish the trust. In all likelihood she’d love to have some assistance in the day-to-day, but just gets caught up in getting it done herself because it’s easier than having to teach someone else and go through the growing pains. Be sure to reinforce that it’s okay if it doesn’t come out totally her way, as long as the kids survive, the house doesn’t burn down, and everyone still has their sanity.

Lastly, read more of this website. Starting with our New Rules to Fatherhood. Take that shit to heart and be ready to step up to the plate to be a fucking father worth crushing the competition by this time next year. Hell, make it part of your New Year’s Goals to find some measurable traits where you can improve.

Your wife will thank you.

Rachel: Wait, did you write this about me?!?! Because this is a real struggle of a Type-A chick. We want to do everything a specific way and can be a royal pain in the ass (guilty). It’s really not that we don’t WANT help from you, it’s just a little challenging to relinquish control after growing a tiny human in your uterus and then pushing it out. Since we did that part totally by ourselves, I think there’s this weird thing that happens that makes us feel nobody could possibly do things the way we would or want to. Yes it’s crazy unrealistic and a little dumb, but it happens.

I think the fact that you even want to have a bigger role and are not just sitting scratching your balls while she’s pumping, or nursing, or washing bottles, etc, is HUGE. When it’s time to feed or bathe the kid, don’t “ask”, just say…”Babe, let me give her a bath and you go sit down for a while.” Or if she’s REALLY a control freak (guilty), tweak it to, “Babe, I want to do bathtime with you…let me help.”

Sure, the first couple of times, she may shoot you down. But if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Eventually, she will take you up on it. The worst thing you can do is to just give up and get laser focused on fantasy football while the black circles under her eyes grow to epic proportions. I promise that once she sees you pitch it (and do it well), she’ll let that, “I’m just going to do everything” schtick a rest and be happy to have you on board.

Now it’s YOUR turn. Do you have some more questions for our crackpot team of experts? Drop us a line in the comments section, or hit us up on email at DaddyMindTricks [at] gmail.com and maybe we’ll feature your question in the next edition of Yo! Momma.

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!

 

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.

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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.

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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

 

 

The Keep It Real Moms are the Illest!

Episode two is here and it’s FULL of realness. We’re talking about everything, because we just can’t stay on one topic. We’re like PTA moms with ADHD, but cool.

This installment has unfiltered discussions about everything including “shitty” baby shower games, dating ladies, being a boss ass bitch, using the Mensch on the Bench as an enforcer, tooth fairy goals and the worst jobs we’ve ever had.

We jump around like House of Pain, because that’s just what we do.

So take a listen after you put the kiddies to bed, or even while you are laying with them as they watch another painful episode of Dora or, god forbid, Calliou. Just make sure you wear headphones 😉

You can access it here on Soundcloud – https://soundcloud.com/user-997167709/kirm2

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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.