Embracing The Chaos That Is (& An Ode To Coffee)

Want. Coffee. Now.

Last week I wrote about how Abby and I are conquering the world, one baby-wearing day at a time.

We thought we had this reflux thing figured out. The past few days have brought back the colic with a vengeance. With my eagle intuition, I’m now cutting out tomatoes (elimination diet).

So. Now that’s dark leafy greens (any and all), caffeine, sugar and tomatoes. (No pasghetti?!) Wheee! Of course, Lil’ Abner’s health, happiness and relief from the reflux is worth it. As is our sanity.

But COFFEE??? Oh my good gravy, for everything that is shiny, golden and absolutely mandatory. How on earth? Living without your hot, dark, aromatic, delicious, blood energizing magic is the pitts. (Extreme withdrawal over here).

Ah, this ode to coffee is but a flash in the pan of chaos.

On Embracing It…

My email inbox will never be manicured quite like it used to be, neither for that matter – will my toes or fingernails. Unless I make it a priority. Those things aren’t right now. (A priority).

My work and extra-curricular lives will never be segmented nice and perfect like an orange again, because you know I be typing one-handed while BF’ing over here and then I’ll go start dinner and come back to do some admin or creating for Rêve, or maybe walk the floor singing. Either way – I can’t plan it, but I’ll fit it in (work), when Abby permits, be it 9am, 4pm or 2am.

My undergarments for the next year or so will not be sexy, but they will be comfortable, the ease of which I whip out the milkettes most essential. I will however stay sexy, no matter my undergarments. So there.

Strangers will always have some piece of advice to give (like when Abby is crying, ‘maybe she’s hungry?’) and rather than bite their heids off Tudor style, (because, LADY as if I don’t know when my baby is hungry, you DO realize you don’t know us or the fact that she just ate 5 minutes ago? RIGHT? Surely you don’t, or else you would not have opened your trap.)

Yea. Instead of that, I shall smile and nod. My feist and wit is hit and miss these days and rather than slurring my words or downright hissing in public, I now opt to go for a graceful appearance. Key word, *APPEAR*

My wardrobe is a shambles and while I try, somedays I don’t make it out of my pj’s. Other days I assemble outfits, apply mascara and gloss worthy of a What I Wore post. Somedays. And even then, there will be spit-up and dried up food due to my toddler’s flinging glee. I’m now okay with this. Or I’m trying to be. I believe this is otherwise known as a hot-mess mommy.

While indulging in a frosty cold beer now and then is completely fine and dandy – gone are the days of quaffing back a fine bottle of vino with great friends and fabulous food whenever my little heart desires. Do I miss that? Not so much. Do plan such RARE dates and type it in read on my iCal? You bet.

I could blather on and on, about some of my darker moments and days in motherhood, but really? In the grand scheme of things? This is what’s called a beautiful mess, I am sure of it.

She’s worth it:

We are worth it.:

YOU are worth it.

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