because mommy was poking him in the eye with a sharp stick

... or at least that's what my husband is telling people.

reeking of beer at 10:00 am

Let me give you all some advice: when you load your groceries into the back of your SUV, please take a lesson from me and DO NOT put your two six-packs of Dos Equis in last. If you do, you will likely open the back of your SUV to unload your groceries, and instead of feeling calm and peaceful and good about yourself because you have completed the odious task of grocery shopping, you will be met with a shopping bag full of beer crashing down onto the driveway beneath you, making an infernal mess complete with broken glass and foaming beer EVERYWHERE.

But as an added bonus, this will leave you smelling like a brewery, which can be fun gossip fodder for your neighbors.

Good times!

supersonic

Is it just me, or is the Sonicare toothbrush the greatest invention ever? I may be going bald with postpartum hair loss but BY GOD am I going to have an impressive set of shiny, white, periodontal disease-free chompers.

mother nature, she is a vengeful beeotch

It's not enough that my stomach is permanently saggy, that I won't see the benefit of a full night's sleep for the next 18 years, and that seeing movies has become a distant memory...

Now my hair is falling out by the handful.

Motherhood rocks!

move over, darvocet

I have a new drug of choice: swaddling. Yep, when our baby is swaddled, he easily sleeps eight hours at night and takes two-hour naps. When he's not swaddled, he wakes himself up screaming after 45 minutes. In fact, I just tried putting him down for a nap unswaddled to see what would happen. Predictably, he woke up flailing and wailing. He still seemed tired, so I swaddled him and he went instantly back to sleep. The minute I put his arms in the blanket, his eyes just melted closed and he relaxed immediately.

So what's the problem? I'm terrified to stop swaddling him. I'm also terrified to continue, because what if he needs to be swaddled forever? I keep picturing him on his first night away at college, asking his freshman roommate to wrap him up in blankets.

I'm sure I'm worrying about nothing -- I mean, he's only three months old -- but that's what new moms do. I guess at this point, he needs his sleep. I know I do.

My name is Rebecca, and I'm a swaddle-aholic.

sharp dresser

Isn't it hilarious when babies wear adult-ish clothes? Here, my son Evan shows his preppy side in a snappy white polo shirt for his Aunt Babby's wedding. He's clearly pleased with the look.

making up is hard to do

Hypothetically speaking: if you were in your sister's wedding recently, had spent 15 minutes putting on makeup for the occasion, and then were asked by the makeup artist "Are you done with your makeup?" Then, when you answered "Um, I guess," the makeup artist replied with "Would you mind if I highlighted you a little?"

... then you might come to the conclusion that wow, after 20 or so years of wearing makeup, that you don't really know what you're doing. Okay, I confess, this happened to me. To make things worse, the "highlighting" session of which she spoke took longer than my original attempt at applying it myself. After she was done, I didn't feel like myself. Well, I felt like myself, but with a face full of spackle. Shimmery spackle at that.

Ah well. I suppose I've never claimed that I was good at putting on makeup in the first place. (Unlike a good friend of mine, who believes that putting lip liner on without a mirror is her spiritual gift.) I'm good at other important things, like watching reality television and buying shoes.

maternity leave smells like peaches.

I will confess: I have become bored with my so-called project plan of blogging topics. Maybe I have ADD, I'm really not sure. So, I'm just going to talk about something else. Deal with it.

You know how you can smell something familiar and instantly and nostalgically be reminded of a place, time, person or event in your life? Well, as I'm starting to see my maternity leave draw to a close, I am realizing that anytime I smell peaches I will remember my eighteen weeks sans work fondly. Yes, I realize this sounds kinda weird. Allow me to explain.

A few days after the baby was born I was shopping at Trader Joe's. I ended up buying this peach-scented lotion (specifically, Kiss My Face Peaches & Cream Moisturizer) and have been slathering it all over myself on a daily basis ever since. I'm not usually a big fruit-scented lotion kind of gal, but this is good stuff. It smells yummy without being overly sweet. So anyway, after many weeks of peachy lotion use, I have already come to associate the scent with leisurely walks, daily viewing of Ellen, frequent cinnamon toast consumption and many hours spent grinning at the baby and speaking to him in a ridiculously high-pitched voice in an attempt to make him smile.

I know I have to go back to work soon. I'm not totally dreading it, although I know it will be really hard at first. Somehow, though, it's comforting that one whiff of the delicious lotion will transport me back to the summer of 2005 -- the summer my life changed forever.

It was a peach.