While Dawson played Reader Rabbit Preschool on the computer, I went on the hunt for books on labor, delivery & childbirth.  One of the books I checked out was called Breastfeeding Sucks: What to Do when Your Mammaries Make You Miserable by Joanne Kimes.  The book is awesome.  I finished it in 2 days (only 224 pages) because it was so easy to read.  Joanne’s take on breastfeeding is humorous and honest and since I had some troubles with nursing when Dawson was born, I wanted to learn as much as I could.

Initially, I was going to check out a 400-page monster book written by a La Leche League advocate, but some of the information seemed outdated and not very interesting.  Breastfeeding Sucks was published just a few years ago and seemed more up to date.

Anyway, I highly recommend this book not only for the content value, but because of the great resources Kimes references in the back of the book; where to find the best maternity and nursing wear, and how to donate excess breast milk (most NICUs have procedures and regulations on this),  and which books to read when it comes time to get your baby to sleep at night.

I was thrilled to find the website Motherwear.com listed in the back of the book.  I’d not heard of it before, and I’ve been looking to purchase affordable nuring bras.  Motherwear.com has a great selection of nursing bras and tanks, as well as clothing for post-delivery as well.  They even cater to plus-size women which impressed me very much.  We all can’t be size 2 in maternity clothes.  I’m looking at you, Target.

I bought a few for less than $20 each, much better than the $68 bra I saw on another maternity site.  Who pays more than $50 for  a freakin’ nursing bra?  It’s not like it’s made by Victoria’s Secret.

Anyway…the whole point of this post was to tell you about the online measuring tool for nursing bras.  I had Doug help me measure (which he thought was too much fun, I was rather uncomfortable) and plugged these measurements into the online application.  When I clicked the “Find My Size” button I nearly peed my pants laughing at the results.  According to the site, I was a 44H.  Yes, you read that correctly.  44!  H cup!  What the hell?

I didn’t think that was correct (and no I’m not posting the numbers here, too embarrassing) so I made Doug re-measure (and again he was thrilled, I was not — I’m sorry, but there’s nothing sexy about being fondled measured for bras by your husband) and it turns out he was holding the measuring tape incorrectly across my back.  I tried to show him how to do it correctly and finally, we got a more accurate reading.

Thankfully, it was a 40D this time, and I ordered the 42D just because I’m sure I’ll grow a little more in the bust when the milk comes in after delivery.

So, two great finds:  the book Breastfeeding Sucks and Motherwear.com.  Check them out!

(And no, this post is not paid.  I’m just thrilled to finally find things I need!)

Two days before our trip, I decided I needed a new outfit.  It had been several months since I went shopping for new clothes and I was tired of wearing the same old stuff from my closet.

I decided to check JC Penney’s since I’m a gold card holder and they send all these awesome coupons for 20% off any purchase, in the mail.  Well, the only chance I had to get to the store was while Doug was working, and I had to bring Dawson with me.

We get to the store and I began perusing the shopping racks.  I found some jeans and a few sweaters to try on and I dragged the clothes and my son to the dressing rooms.

“Dawson, sit down and hang tight while I try this stuff on, okay?” I told him.

“Mumma, are you gonna get naked?” he asked.

“No, I’m just going to try on these clothes.  Turn around if you don’t want to see my underpants.”

So I take off my clothes and put on the first outfit.  As I’m checking myself out in the mirror (in horrible dressing room lighting), I hear Dawson yell, “I HAVE TO GO POTTY!”

Crap! I think.  Here I am in store clothes, my coat and purse and street clothes strewn across the dressing room, and now my son tells me he needs to use the bathroom.

“Dawson, can you hold it until I get my clothes back on?” I ask.

“NO!  I HAVE TO GO RIGHT NOW!” he shreiks.

I made the split second decision to leave my clothes and coat in the dressing room, and to grab my purse and the kid and head across the store to the bathrooms.  When I say across the store, I mean all the way to the other side of the building.

Dawson and I are halfway out of the dressing room when the attendant calls out, “Ma’am!  You cannot leave the dressing room with those clothes on.”

I don’t stop, but I turn towards her and yell, “My son has to pee!  It’s an emergency!”

The store clerk follows me as she tells me it’s against store policy to allow merchandise to enter the bathrooms, it’s an anti-theft policy and she’ll have to get the manager.

I ignore her, and go into the bathroom so that Dawson can do his business.

Next thing I know the store manager walks in, as well as a security guard.

“Ma’am, you need to return to the dressing room.” the manager says.

I’m holding the stall door closed, Dawson is peeing and this woman (the manager) and male security guard are in the bathroom with us.

“Look,” I say. “I know you’re worried I’m going to walk out of the store, WITHOUT MY CLOTHES OR COAT, with the INK THINGIE still on the freakin’ pants, and through the BEEPING THINGS by the door,  but seriously…my child has to pee and if you have ever raised a boy you’d know this cannot wait.”

“We understand that things happen but we need you to return to the dressing room immediately.” she said.

I smiled politely and helped my son to the sink to wash his hands.

“Mumma, how come all those people wanna hear me pee?” Dawson asked.

I started laughing and said, “Oh honey, they think your Mom is going to steal their clothes.”

“Oh, no Mumma.  You can’t do that or you’ll go to jail.” Dawson said.

We head back to the dressing rooms and I said to Dawson, “Why didn’t you tell me you had to go potty before we went in here?”

“Because you didn’t ask me!” Dawson said.

Good point.  The kid is no dummy.  Next time I’ll make sure to ask if he had to pee before I decide to try anything on in the store.

The good news is I did find a new pair of jeans.  The ones that Penney’s thought I was going to steal.  And I also found these:

I tried them on and fell in love.  They are delicious.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get to wear them in Milwaukee because of the cold and snowy weather, but I fully intend to wear them on Valentine’s Day.

Oh, speaking of the big V-day.  Doug and I are celebrating the night before with dinner and a movie…because the next day my BFF AJ and I are going to see MOTLEY CRUE in Madison!  AJ lives in Chicago and we rarely get to see each other so we’re both totally excited.

Don’t you just love the shoes?  I want to lick them.  That’s how awesome they are.

(Also, why do the funniest things always happen to me in a dressing room?  Remember this?)

What was supposed to be a quick venture to Walmart and Target turned into five hours of shopping and bumming around.  (And I think I spent a little more than I intended because the Doodlebug was with me.)

Dawson was well-behaved for most of the trip, save for the few times he begged (and whined) for toys and treats, and I managed to remain calm far longer than I thought possible.  (I’m not very patient when it comes to shopping, especially with Dawson.)

We had some gift cards burning holes in our pockets and what better a day to hit the retail establishments than two days after Christmas.  I’m no dummy.  Had I tried to go shopping yesterday, I’d have never made it home with my sanity in tact.

It was still busy in the shops and stores today, but it was manageable and I wasn’t complaining.

At Walmart we exchanged a board game, picked up some bathroom tissue and more Easy-Ups for Dawson, and I got some miscellaneous things I needed — minus a black ink cartridge for our printer.  It seems the HP #21 Black ink is mighty popular.  (I tried to remember to check at Target and completely forgot.  It’s not my fault, I got distracted by all the Christmas Clearance.)

We ran into Game Stop to use a gift card that Dawson received.  He had been begging for the Mario Party game for the Nintendo DS, but once inside the store he changed his mind and picked Mario Kart instead.  (And he’s been playing it since we got home.  My 4-year-old is a gamer.  This kind of scares me.)

After that we finally hit Target.  I wanted to check out the clearance and scored some new holiday dinnerware.  It’s plastic and so adorable.  I’ll post pictures soon.  I also stocked up on wrapping paper, gift bags & tags, holiday cards and some outdoor lights, too.

Target is my favorite place to shop and I tried not to go overboard with the clearance stuff, but it was so difficult to walk away.  I grabbed some new socks for the hubs (he goes through socks so quickly, it’s crazy) and bought a new book for myself (by James Patterson, my favorite author).

All that shopping made us hungry, so Dawson and I had dinner at Wendy’s across the street.  Next we went to the book store and I perused the new releases while Dawson played in the kids’ section.  Finally, we went to Shopko and exchanged the shoes I got him that were too small and picked up a new Backyardigans DVD that was on sale.

I was so ready to go home, but ever since we walked through the door I’ve been playing video games, board games and watching iCarly with Dawson.  While I enjoy playing with my little guy, I can’t help but yawn.  It’s been a long day.

I’ve got a holiday gift guide to share with you.  Click Here.  Do it!  There are giveaways!  And you can register for something awesome.  Go there. Right now.

GO!

These very amazing sales ladies managed to convince me to buy a Coach Purse. I’ve always wanted one…but never felt like it was a necessity. The guilt of spending lots of money on a handbag used to eat away at me. But then I was standing in a room full of expensive designer bags at the Macy’s cocktail party, intoxicated by the fabrics, the leather, the straps.

I caved. I bought one. She is gorgeous. The handbag isn’t half bad either. Haha. No but seriously…look at that bag. I’m in love. Absolutely, totally in love. I know. It’s silly. Get over it.  This high won’t last forever.  Sneaky, sneaky Macy’s.  Way to sponsor a cocktail party for shopaholics like me.  You’re not stupid, that’s for sure.

Paying for my new love. That was the most fun I’ve ever had — signing my life away on a my credit card…let me tell ya. It was totally worth it. It was my first Coach experience, and I can’t wait to do it again. Mocha‘s daughter, Mallory, said it best, “It’s like a drug…isn’t it!?”

So very, very true!  I’m shaking from withdrawals already.  Time to buy the matching wallet, I think.

I could write an entire post, expressing my sorrow for offending so many people, but I’ve made my sincerest apologies both publicly and privately and I feel it’s best to use all of the wonderful resources, book recommendations, blog references and advice given to me, so that I may learn from my mistake.

I’m very grateful for all of the support many of you have given me, in spite of my grave offense, and I appreciate every phone call, every blog comment, and every e-mail that has been sent my way. I have tried my best to respond to everyone. If I haven’t gotten back to you, it is because my heart is overflowing from the kindness. I’m terribly sorry if I’ve missed the opportunity to thank you personally. Please know how grateful I am.

The last few days have been insanely busy. In addition to catching up on all matters online, I’ve been trying to keep up with life in general.

So far this week, I have enrolled Dawson in preschool for this fall, scheduled doctor and dentist appointments for myself and Dawson, gone grocery shopping, weeded the flower beds, caught up on laundry, watched Juno, Atonement and 27 Dresses (I loved all three movies), and spent some much needed time with my family.

Earlier this morning I went to Best Buy and bought a brand new laptop. Doug and I received our stimulus (rebate?) check and decided to spend half the money on a new garage door (ours is as old as the house and only opens manually, which is a total pain in the ass in the winter) and then we split the remaining money in half to spend as we wished. My wish was a faster laptop as the old one still runs Windows 2000.

I bought a Gateway laptop and it’s Garnet Red in color. I love it. I’ll take a picture of it soon. The cool thing is that it has a built-in webcam. I have the urge to do a blog chat, but it’s late and my hair is a mess (excuses, I know).

This afternoon my mother-in-law and I took a trip to Sam’s Club. Dawson came along as well and he was so excited to ride in Grandma’s new mini-van because it has a DVD player. He was able to watch SpongeBob SquarePants (of course!), and my MIL and I were able to carry on a conversation without constant demands and whines of a 3-year-old.

Also, I went over to Johnson’s Baby Cause, a charitable organization (through Global Giving) which is hosting a celebrity auction on e-bay. I bid on this travel system just for the heck of it. I don’t even need a stroller/car seat combo, but I thought it would be fun to win it and tell everyone I know that my favorite co-host of The View used this item. More about this here. (And more about this fun PBN blog blast here.)

That’s about all I’ve been up to these days. Now, I just have to catch up on your blogs and the world will be right again.

Let me preface this by telling you that I had this favorite pair of jeans that I bought three months before I got pregnant. I loved those jeans. The were low-rise, they fit nicely in the hips, thighs and buns, and they were straight leg so they made me look really thin. When I woman finds a pair of jeans she loves, she doesn’t care how much they cost. I spend $70 on those jeans. I think they were New York Laundry, or was it Chinese Laundry? I can’t remember. The fact is I loved them.

When I got pregnant and couldn’t wear them after my third month, I was heart broken. At one point I considered writing a letter to the company to ask them to make the same jeans in maternity sizes. Doug teased me because I wore those jeans at least three times a week.

“Don’t you have any other jeans to wear?” He’d ask.

“None that I love as much as these.” I’d reply.

After Dawson was born, I couldn’t wait to lose the baby weight and fit into those pants again. It took six months, but it was like my jeans had been waiting for nearly a year and a half for me to slip back into them. I still believe that my jeans loved me just as much and actually conformed to my body shape (even when I gained a few pounds) because they still fit perfectly. Like they were made for me.

Two Fridays ago they ripped. There was a tiny little hole at the bottom of the pocket, hardly noticeable over the years. The last time I put those jeans on, I heard a sound. A ripping sound. I felt a draft. I checked my ass in the mirror and saw pink underwear peeking out. The hole near the pocket grew to the size of a saucer.

As I was standing in front of the mirror in tears, my husband walked in, saw the hole and began laughing.

“I think it’s time to buy new jeans. Those have definitely outgrown YOU.”

“Ooohh… you’re soooo funny.” I seethed.

I threw the jeans in the garbage and made a vow to go shopping for new ones. I kept putting it off, but finally, I headed out to Kohl’s last Tuesday.

I confess, I’m a plus size. Hopefully not for long. I didn’t think that Kohl’s would carry anything cute in my size, but surprisingly they had some really great things from Villager (a Liz Claiborne company; I love Liz Claiborne and own a lot of pieces from when I worked at Elder-Beerman).

I began piling clothes into my little shopping cart and noticed two women standing near me. They were looking at me intently and I couldn’t figure out why. I pretended to ignore them and carried my pile to the dressing room. I had been in my stall for several minutes, trying to see which jeans looked better on my behind, when I heard two other women come into the dressing rooms, speaking French.

Now, you should know I took five years of French classes in high school and I can understand almost everything as long as the person speaks very slowly. These women were yakking loudly and quickly so I only caught bits and pieces of their conversation.

“blah….blah, blah….blah….que la grosse vache….blah, blah…” one of them said.

“Oui….blah, blah…blah….sauter d’un batiment, blah blah blah….pantalon.” the other replied.

They were laughing and giggling and then it hit me.

Gross vache. That means fat cow. Sauter. I know that doesn’t mean “to fry in a pan”. Sauter! That means “to jump”! Oi! Batiment. Basement? No. Not basement. Building!
Pantalon. That’s easy. Pants.

Holy shit. Fat cow, to jump, off a building and pants. These women were talking about me! For what other reason would they be staring at me as I gathered clothes to try on?

They were saying that “the fat cow will need to jump off a building to fit in those pants.” I was proud of myself for figuring it out. I was mortified. Then I got mad.

I sat down on my dressing room bench, trying to convert the meanest insult I could think of into French. For example, “Listen here bitches, I know I’m not thin, but I’m not a fat cow. For one thing I don’t have utters and I don’t chew a cud. And as for you…..”

That would take ten years for me to figure out, and conjugate the verbs properly. Poor Madame Severson, my french teacher, would die if she heard me speak it incorrectly.

Just as I was going to open my door and give those women a what for, I caught this:

“blah, ma belle-mere, blah, blah, besoin du gastrique saute, blah, blah, elle est juste condamne aussi du gras.”

Let the translation begin, I thought. This could take awhile. Ma belle-mere. My beautiful mother? No, no, no. That’s not right. Aha! Mother-in-law. Okay…besoin due gastrique saute. Needs gastric jump? What? What the hell is a gastric jump? Oh, duh! Gastric bypass! Ahhh. Okay. Condamne aussie du gras. She is just too fat.

It was then that I realized I really couldn’t be sure who they were talking about, considering I only caught certain words. I would feel stupid if I hurled an insult their way only to discover they were slamming someone’s mother-in-law. Granted, I still didn’t know who the hell needed to jump off a building to fit into a pair of pants.

I finished trying on my items and as I left the dressing rooms, I put my discards on the rack outside the door. I chose a new pair of jeans and a great sweater and headed for the check-out line.

As I waited to check out, the French girls suddenly got in the line next me. In the thickest accent ever, one of them said to me, “Pardon, but where did you get your hair cut? It’s adorable. Cherie has been admiring it the whole time we’ve been in the store, but she’s too shy to ask.”

Turns out this is why they were staring at me. Because of my adorable hair cut! Zut alors! Who knew? It really is a good thing I didn’t swear in French at them after all!

Very Adorable Hair

For several months, Dawson has been running through the house, jumping on bad guys; namely Murphy, our dog, who is the evil “so-so-rear” (sorcerer) from the planet Too Many Legos.

The horrible dragon (Mommy) must be slayed with his magic sword (empty wrapping paper tube). The mean overlord (Daddy) of the Great Blanket Castle (a comforter draped over two kitchen chairs) must be removed from his evil reign.

I’m happy to see that Dawson’s imagination is running wild. He’s brilliantly creating these amazing scenes. I’m not so sure I like being killed fourteen times each day.

“No, Mommy,” he yells. “You have to fall on the floor and die like this!”

I watch and learn as he dramatically drapes himself across the reclining chair and then rolls to the floor.

“Dawson, if I attempt to mimic such stunts, your father will have to call 9-1-1,” I tell him. “Don’t I get a body double for these tricks?”

Then this morning, the demands for a cape began. We were watching the Disney channel and a character named Captain Carlos came on the t.v.

“Mommy, I need to be a Super Dawson,” he said. “And I need a parachute for my back.”

“A parachute?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“You see right there, on Cap’n Cah-wos. He gots a parachute on his back!”

“Oooh. You mean a cape?” I queried.

“Yeah! A cape! A CAPE!!”

“Okay, Bug. I’ll try to find a cape.”

I grabbed an old receiving blanket and tried to tie it around Dawson’s shoulders. Too short. Next, I tried his favorite blanket and it was too long. I chose an old fitted crib sheet and wrapped it around his shoulders, but I had no way to fasten it. The crying began.

I hit the Internets. Thank the heavens for Google, which led me to this Etsy page. For about $45, Panjo will create a handmade, custom Superhero cape for your child and with the many different fabric choices to pick from, how can you go wrong? Your child’s initial will be lovingly sewn on the back, too.

Now I just need to distract the Doodlebug until it arrives. Super Dawson Patience Powers, activate!

My mom is picking me up in just a few hours to go to a “Home Party” party. It’s one of those things where a bunch of vendors like Party Lite, Pampered Chef and Tastefully Simple (among others), get together in one facility to sell product and book shows. Or something. I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m just going for the sake of going. Somewhere. Childless. Yay me!

I know, I should really go for a walk and work off some of the pre-winter flab, but it’s freakin’ cold outside!

Happy Weekend!

**Updated – I ended up bringing Dawson with us. He saw Nonna’s car pull into the driveway and threw the mother of all tantrums. To shut him up, he came along. He was surprisingly well-behaved. I’m sort of wondering if my son has been replaced with a pod toddler!

I haven’t even thought about what to get Dawson for Christmas, but he already knows what he wants thanks to the never ending commercials advertising the latest Nickelodeon toy sets. I can only imagine how many have been “Made in China”.

Thanksgiving is next week, yet I refuse to acknowledge the fact that millions of bargain-crazy people will camp out at Target at 3 a.m., awaiting the latest and greatest techno gadget. iPods, plasma televisions, Playstations and Nintendo Wii, all on sale for “Unbelievably Low Prices!”

I have to laugh. Three years from now, these gadgets will be obsolete when the newer and better replacements come out.

Last night we were watching Dancing With the Stars and a Target commercial was on. It featured a Christmas theme with presents and Santa Claus. Suddenly Dawson piped up, “Santa’s coming, Mumma. He bringing Dawson presents!”

A year ago Dawson was scared to death of the man in the red suit. Every “Ho! Ho! Ho!” made him cry. He wanted nothing to do with visiting Santa at the mall last Christmas. While other children sat on the jolly man’s lap, telling him what they wanted under their trees, Dawson was glued to my leg eying Santa cautiously.

I don’t think this year will be any different. I’m positive Dawson will reject a visit to the Claus because he’s still very shy.

I do know the toys I buy for Dawson will be different this year. As I was cleaning both his bedroom and his playroom, I noticed that 95% of his toys are plastic, either from Fisher-Price or Playskool and most of them he doesn’t even play with. I’m tired of the endless supply of Little People scattered across the floor.

Dawson is infatuated with all things CARS, but I’m sick of looking at five colorful variations of Ramone and Lightning McQueen. Dora and Diego our out of the question. It’s just another collection of toys to find a place for — next to every Thomas the Tank Engine and Bob the Builder toy he already owns. Don’t even get me started on SpongeBob SquarePants. I’ll cry. Really I will.

This year, I’m trying something different thanks to the moms of Cool Mom Picks. Kristen and Liz came up with the Safer Toy Guide and I’m happy to learn than every one of the featured toys is unleaded and doesn’t require batteries. I never thought I would grow to hate those adorable, plastic, noisy toys currently stored in Rubbermaid totes. But I’ve learned that bright and flashy isn’t always better.

Simple wooden toys our parents played with have become more appealing, maybe because a dose of aspirin won’t be needed to keep me content while Dawson plays with them.

Besides, I’m positive Grandma, Grandpa and Auntie Rachel have noisy toys in store. I’m saving my money for something better.

What are you buying your kids for Christmas?

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Today is Operation Room Nurse Day!