Houston, We Have A Problem

It all started with a photo on Instagram and a hash tag. #houstonwehaveaproblem 

Last Christmas, Grayson, a 35-week preemie, was only 2-months-old. He pretty much slept through everything. All the decorating. All the gifts. Everything. We didn’t have to worry about baby proofing our Christmas tree or anything. This year? Totally different story. Take a look for yourself.

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Oh, yes. Grayson is obsessed with his new favorite toy: Christmas ornaments. They are the best, right? Well, about five minutes into trimming the tree, Grayson was clapping and reaching for what he apparently thought was balls, because as soon as he got his hands on one — he threw it across the room. And giggled. Boys are so different from girls! I swear. My girls would never even think to reach for an ornament. He is such a ham as he does it, too, which of course means we laugh right with him. But I am hoping he forgets about the ornaments, because otherwise, our tree is going to be a little naked on the bottom. Good thing they are shatterproof! I’d love to hear how you baby proof your home during the holidays when you have a cruiser. Please, tell me!!

How did you baby proof the Christmas tree decorations? 

See all of Casi’s Babble posts here, check her out on Spearmint BabyThe Little Style File  and Rags to StitchesWant more? Get to know 25 things about Casi. Read more from Casi & the cupcake team on cupcakeMAG + cupcakeMAG Littles. Check out Casi’s lifestyle blog where she gives readers a glimpse into her personal life + behind the scenes of all the chaos, cupcake + co.  For more updates, follow Casi on FacebookTwitterInstagram and Pinterest!

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Houston, We Have a Problem

6185032739_2fc390d48dMen: Walk away now.

 

Ladies: Come closer.

Lately I’ve had a bit of an issue that has ebbed and flowed over the past few years. But recently it has become a glaring issue that takes my breath away: Babies. Or shall I say BABIES.

 

I cannot look at a newborn without everything getting all floppy and clutching my stomach. My heart aches when I see a baby. Any baby.  I’ve been smiling and waving at every toddler on the east coast. My body seems to think that a baby would be a good idea. My 29 ½ year old body thinks that time is running out. (Because bodies think. Obviously.) I think it might be in a panic of some sort. Like, if we don’t do this now it’s not going to happen. It doesn’t help that every time I turn to any sort of social media there’s a chubby cheeked cherub staring back at me.

 

Then there’s my head. My head is like HELL NO. NO. NO. NOOOOOO. Did I mention no? Because no. I don’t even want a child at the present moment nor do I want to be married or partnered. I want to be single and hog the bed and go to yoga at my leisure.

 

I want to sleep until noon on Sundays. That’s what I want.

 

But these bodies of ours, ladies. They are persistent. My insides seem to be preparing for something it thinks should happen post-haste because it’s “natural” and I have a uterus therefore a baby should be brought forth immediately. Thankfully, I’m one of those women who eventually wants children but not tomorrow or next week or nine months from now. I have a five year plan (the second I wrote that God let out a hearty laugh) that involves career and professional conquests and I’d like to stick to it. This plan does NOT involve getting pregnant.

 

So, my question is how do I make it stop? How do I shut that whole thing down? And please tell me that I’m not the only one this has ever happened to. Help!

*Photo courtesy of Heather Barmore. Baby courtesy of Amy Storch.

Keep the conversation going with Heather Barmore at Poliogue: The Art of Political Dialogue, Twitter and Facebook.

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