A guest post from a mama who’s mastered something that can be difficult, scary as hell, and possibly bloody. Cutting her baby boy’s nails.

This guest post comes from Michelle who started her blog, No Ordinary Momma, back in May, has a facebook page, and types in lower case which is something I’ve thought of doing since hitting that damn shift button can be a pain in my ass. I guess if I stopped pressing the shift button with my ass, it wouldn’t be such a pain.

It may seem like I have some sort of obsession with asses since that’s what I’ve been mentioning in my posts lately but I don’t. No, really I swear I don’t. Or maybe I do but I’m not ready to accept that I have an ass obsession. Pretty soon I’ll be going by Assmaster Elle.

Anyway, enough of my crazy, let’s turn back to Michelle.

She is an advertising executive and just signed up for a photography class. There are plenty of adorable photos of her 8 month old son on her blog.

Michelle is also a mama to two dogs, one of which I have fallen in love with, Orlando. You can check Orlando hanging out with a t-rex and going down a slide (love that photo!). Other great posts; costco…i love you, i hate you, i love you, i hate you and meil and a spiel.

A few days ago I thought it would be nice to do a Q and A with my guest bloggers to get to know them better so here you go.

Elle:  What is something you weren’t expecting after having a baby?

Michelle:  The yummy crushed ice that they have in the hospital!  It was perfect munching size.  Why did nobody tell me about this ice?  I’m tempted to have another baby just to take advantage of the unlimited refills.
Elle: What is one of your favorite non-mommy activities that you like to do?

Michelle: Because of my short attention span, I love doing anything that lasts 5 minutes or less…I’m not too picky about what that activity is.
Elle: If you could be stuck in an elevator with anyone (living or dead), who would it be?

Michelle:  Sandra B. Stafford, Owner and President of ERS (Elevator Repair Service)

Without further ado, here’s Michelle’s guest post…


mastering The baby mani/pedi

edward scissorhands, i mean jayce, has talons that must be cut every other day.  the nurturer in me thought, “i hope his brain is growing as fast as his nails.”  i’m not an expert, but considering his favorite activity is sucking on my hair, i think it’s safe to assume that his brain is not growing very rapidly.

brandon refuses to cut jayce’s nails.  he also refused to breastfeed him.  fine!  i guess i’ll just do EVERYTHING.  jayce is 8 months old, so according to my calculations i’ve cut his nails about eleventy billion times.  all of this experience has made me a master at the baby mani/pedi.

i’ve heard the baby mani/pedi is stressful for a lot of parents, so i’d like to share my technique:

items needed:

  • a baby with long nails
  • something sharp (clippers work best)
  • a television with local cable channels


  1. put the baby in front of the television
  2. turn on asian programming (you’ll find it easily within your local cable channels)
  3. focus on your baby (if you pay any attention to what’s happening on the television you will get sidetracked)
  4. begin clipping the nails (you have a 3-5 minute window)
  5. congratulations!  you’ve just given your baby a mani/pedi

this is the type of programming you should be looking for.

you may be thinking, “is michelle sniffing glue right now?”  no, i’m not, but that’s a fantastic idea and i’ll have to go do that once i’m done writing this.  trust me on this folks, it totally works.

why does it work?  because it totally mind-fucks with your kid.  everything in their little brain just freezes up.  they don’t know if they are happy, sad, hot or cold…they just freeze up and stay that way for about 3-5 minutes, plenty of time to do a baby mani/pedi.

jayce is none the wiser.

*If you would like to write a guest post, whether you have a blog or not, email me at assmaster elle dot mommyhood at gmail dot com.
Comments { 7 }

Normally, people want answers but I’d like your help with questions.

I’ve been having a great time with the lovely ladies who have or will be guest posting on my blog. If you’d like to know more and are interested in doing a guest post, just scroll to the top of the page where it says “guest bloggers”.

I have some wonderful mamas lined up to guest post and yesterday I started thinking about how I’d like to do a little Q & A with them.

So far I have “If you could be stuck in an elevator with anyone, who would it be?”, “Who’s on your 5 freebie list?”, and “If the zombie apocalypse happened tomorrow, which weapon would you want to have to fight these brain eaters?

1. a flame thrower

2. an unlimited supply of ninja throwing stars

3. a chainsaw

4. a shoelace

5. none of the above, I want to be a damn zombie!

The shoelace was my hubby’s suggestion because he said and I quote “if you’re really bad ass, that would be all you would need to fight zombies”.

This is where you come in. What questions would you like me to ask? It can be questions on the quirky side or something like who’s your favorite actor.

I think I’ll only ask about 3 questions (that might change) and will mix it up so it won’t always be the same questions….unless nobody else has any suggestions.

But I know you wouldn’t mind helping a sleep deprived mama who’s brain is currently in a fog. Leave the question(s) you want me to ask the upcoming guest bloggers in the comment section. Thank you so much for your help. MWAH! xx

Comments { 3 }

It’s my 16 year wedding anniversary so you know what that means? A really long and embarrassing story about what happened a few weeks after my husband and I started dating.

My wedding photo. Okay, not really. Not only do I suck at drawing, I suck at trying to photoshop but I did look like a lacy vanilla cupcake at my real wedding. My hubby doesn't look like Johnny Depp but Johnny sure is nice to look at. He should get his head checked out though because it's looking flat. Maybe that's why he wears those wigs in his more recent movies.

*Beep, beep. This is a way too much info post. And now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Our 16 year wedding anniversary was actually on Friday (I’ve heard that 15 years of marriage means you get a big metal chicken. Damn! I missed out by one year.) but since I was sick last week, I’m behind on everything. Even my behind is behind me. Fortunately, that’s where it should be. My hubby and I were going to go out and do something but because of the plague I had, we got some take out at this hole in the wall Mexican place that we love.

After the hummingbird finally went to sleep, we were able to catch up on recent episodes of The Big C.

When we first got married I wanted romance dammit and we would leave sweet notes for each other around the house.

My husband finally washed out our recycling bin on Saturday after I nagged him about it for months. After 16 years of marriage, that was pretty freaking romantic for me. Especially since it usually takes him several months or even years to actually do something on his honey-do list.

He also gave me a couple of really nice framed pictures of the little hummingbird as well as a ton of “real” pictures of her that I can put in her baby book and photo albums. I’ve been asking him for “real” pics instead of just the pictures we have of her on the computer for over 2 years now.

I kept on telling him that I’ll just do it but he said he’ll do it because there’s one place in particular he likes to order from BUT he acts like it’s some top secret place and he wouldn’t tell me what the company name was. So, he must want me to nag him to death and I’ve happily obliged.

This is how it usually goes when I ask him to do something (like hang plants in our house that took him 9 months to do).

Me: Can you do x and y?

Him: Just put it on the to-do list.

Me: But will you actually read the list?

Him: *rolls eyes* I know what has to be done. Just put it on the list.

Me: I can just do it myself.

Him: Put it on the list. I’ll do it!

Me: Okaaaay! Sheesh!

3 months later, lather, rinse, repeat. Complain to my mom and ponder what the hell is the deal with men.

6 months later, same thing.

Me: I really need you to do x and y. Maybe I’ll just get a handyman if you can’t do it.

Him: Did you put it on the list?

Me: *stab stab stab*


I’ve mentioned before that we met back in 1995 and I was working at a beauty supply store. My coworker, “Lucy” was married at the time to “Eric”. My future hubby and Eric were roommates their freshman year of college. I didn’t see this at the time but Eric and Lucy set us up.

Lucy was pregnant with her first little babe and we both worked 1 pm-9:30 pm. Her husband would usually bring her dinner and they would go in the back room to eat. One night this guy came in with Eric. I was busy stocking shelves and didn’t pay much attention at first.

A few months earlier I ended a really awful relationship and there was no way in hell I was interested in dating ever again during that time. The other thing was my future hubby wasn’t like any of the other guys I had ever dated. He was clean-cut, was a junior in college, had a nice car, and was a sweet guy.

Before him I had Kate Hudson syndrome and loved rocker guys. I was into musicians but it wasn’t an absolute must. I had a special gift of picking losers. To be fair not all of them were losers but I’m sure my mom is shaking her head and saying hell yes, ALL of them were losers. I also liked dating older guys, anywhere from 5-10 years older and my then future hubby is only 6 months older than me.

But there was something about him and what really got me was his smile. He has this slightly crooked tooth at the top left of his mouth and when he smiled, it would get me feeling weak in the knees. He had come in with Eric to where Lucy and I worked a few times after that. Then Lucy asked me to come over one night to watch a movie. I said sure and on our way to her place, she stopped by to see if my future hubby wanted to come over.

She went into his place while I stayed in the car and when we were back on the road, she told me that he said no at first because he had to study and work on a paper for a class but she mentioned I would be there and she told me he immediately said forget the paper, I’ll be over soon.

We watched the movie ‘With Honors’ and at first my future hubby and I were sitting on opposite ends of the couch. We kept on inching closer together and by the time the movie was over, we were side by side holding hands and we’ve been together since.

About 2 weeks after we started dating, I found out that Nine Inch Nails was playing about 6 hours away and that’s when my future hubby told me that’s where his parents live and he would try to get tickets. My hubby didn’t really start listening to music until around high school and he wasn’t really familiar with NIN but I’ve always been such a music freak and really loved them.

We’ve seen NIN in concert so many times over the years and even though I tried, I couldn’t even guesstimate how many times we’ve seen them.

By the time my future hubby got the tickets and we were going to the concert, we had been together 3 weeks. Whenever I would start a new relationship, there were so many little things that would make me self-conscious. Does my hair look okay? Is there something in my teeth? Is there anything hanging out of my nose? When it came to things like going to the bathroom, I didn’t want the guy I was dating to know that GASP!! I did that.

To put it bluntly, I didn’t want a guy to know that I actually did something that everyone else does which is poop. After I was dating someone for a while I would be burping in front of him without a second thought or send a guy out to pick up some tampons but during the new relationship phase, I would be on my best behavior. You’ve gotta sucker them in before you let it all hang out.

I thought my future hubby and I would stay at a hotel when we went to see NIN but he said we could stay with his parents, in seperate rooms of course. I was nervous for all the regular reasons but one day when I was talking with my coworker, Lucy, I told her where we would be staying and she gave me this ruh roh look.

She told me that her hubby, her, and my future hubby went up there for a weekend and they were so weird. I told her that’s okay, I like weird. Lucy was like no, they’re REALLY fucking strange people. Later that night when the four of us were hanging out, Lucy and Eric, along with the future hubby, told me some of their weird and not in a good way ways. I still thought they couldn’t be that bad.

We drove in late that first night and my future in-laws were already asleep. I have to admit one of the first things I did was check the bathroom to see if they had spray but they didn’t and I thought shit, pun intended. Of course spraying after stinking up the bathroom screams out what you just did but their guest bathroom was really close to the living room and I didn’t want to use it and then have the smell float into the living room.

I did find some cleaning supplies under the sink that I could spray just in case. My future in-laws had to go somewhere the next morning so I still hadn’t met them yet. My future hubby and I were listening to the NIN cd The Downward Spiral and left it in his parents stereo, then went out for a bit.

The concert wasn’t until later that night so we were planning on going ice skating at the mall after lunch. When we got back to his parents house they were there and I was so nervous, especially after everything I was told about them. They didn’t seem that bad though. It wasn’t until we got engaged that the tide turned when it came to how my MIL acted.

His mom said that while we were out she saw the Nine Inch Nails cd and recorded it because she thought it would be great when she did her aerobics. My future hubby and I looked at each other and laughed. She told him later on that when she went to play the cd, she couldn’t believe we would listen to anything like that.

I was a vegetarian back then and his mom had made a quiche for lunch. When it came to the drink choices, I was going to have water but everyone else had milk and I wanted to brown nose a little so I had milk instead.

This is where I need to tell you that I’m lactose intolerant. I actually didn’t know there was a name for it until almost a year later when I saw commercial for lactaid pills. I obviously knew before then that milk was my enemy so I mostly just avoided it.

Since milk is the biggest offender, I use lactose free milk but other than that, I don’t really avoid much else but it also depends on the situation. If I’m out somewhere and I don’t know where a bathroom is, I try and play it safe.

 I still have ice cream, I can’t live without cheese, and I love Greek yogurt. I also still have things with milk in it like biscuits and gravy, quiche, mac n’ cheese.

I take over the counter lactaid pills when I remember but even then there’s a 50/50 chance they won’t work. My ass is unpredictable so I never know how mild or how bad the effects will be when it comes to anything I eat. I could have a bowl of ice cream and not have much trouble but I could have it a week later and end up in the bathroom saying oh my gawd what was I thinking?

I’m screwed no matter what because I’ve found over the years that a lot of things have lactose in it, not just dairy. I can just have french fries and be in agony. Some vitamin supplements I take as well as a few medications I’m on have lactose since it’s one of the things that’s used as a binding agent or a filler in food and meds.

This probably wasn’t what you had in mind when I wrote that post about wanting to be more upfront and how I sometimes hold back when it comes to what I say.

Here’s what I got from Web MD and it’s WAY more information than you want to know: symptoms of lactose intolerance can be mild or severe, depending on how much lactase your body makes. Symptoms usually begin 30 minutes to 2 hours after eating or drinking milk or milk products. If you have lactose intolerance, your symptoms may include bloating, pain or cramps in the lower belly, gurgling or rumbling sounds in the lower belly, gas, diarrhea, throwing up.

Your welcome for that unnecessary information.

Okay, so now that you got a lesson in being lactose intolerant, back to lunch with my future hubby and in-laws. I had quiche and a big freaking glass of milk. Oh my gawd! Before we were done with lunch I knew I was in trouble and my stomach was making noticeable rumbling noises. I excused myself and walked as fast as I could to the guest bathroom.

OY! I was in there for a while and before I walked out of the bathroom, I sprayed some cleaning product to cover the smell. When I walked out, everyone was in the living room and a few minutes later the scent of bathroom cleaner was in the air. I’m sure at least my future MIL was wondering what was up with that and why would I be in there cleaning her bathroom. That still makes me laugh.

My future hubby and I left for the mall and I thought that was it with my stomach issues but as he was parking, my ass was ready for Round 2. I told him I really needed to use the bathroom and thought I was going to shit my pants before I got to one. I hate using public restrooms, especially when I have to do more than pee. I think I have something like a public pooping phobia.

When you’re lactose intolerant though, it’s not like you have a choice and you can’t hold it. When I walked into the bathroom there were a few women in there and I was sitting in the stall thinking hurry the freak up people. I was in there for a long time and walked out of the bathroom where my future hubby was patiently waiting. I didn’t want him to know what I was doing in there even though it was pretty obvious so I said I must have eaten something bad earlier and threw up. Ha, he probably didn’t buy it but he didn’t say either way.

We started towards the ice skating rink and then ding, ding, ding, Round 3 started coming. I raced back to the bathroom where I thought I would die, not only because of the pain and agony that lactose can cause me but also of embarrassment because this was happening in front of my new boyfriend. Well, not literally in front of him but you know what I mean.

There was also a Round 4 so we never made it ice skating. Good thing though because years later when we finally went ice skating, I found that I’m the person you see at the side of the rink that has a death grip on anything I can get ahold of and ends up saying eff this, I’ll just sit and watch.

The NIN concert was amazing by the way. It’s brutal having to be the opening band for them and the first time we saw them The Melvins were the first band. The crowd just wanted Nine Inch Nails and some people in the floor area started tearing up the wood that was put over the hockey rink and was chucking it at the band.

Someone even lit their t-shirt on fire and threw it on stage. The band members ended up having to dodge behind the speakers that were on the stage.

Now scroll back up and look at the badly photoshopped wedding picture again that took me a surprisingly insane amount of time to do do. heh.

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When I was pregnant, I would’ve easily stabbed someone if they came near *my* orange juice. Not that I ever had to because I scared the hell out of my husband and everyone else.

When I was pregnant with the hummingbird I had insane cravings for 4 things.

I ate so many bean burritos with sour cream throughout my pregnancy, I’m surprised I didn’t give birth to a 7 pound 9 ounce burrito. I guess I sort of did when your consider that babies look like burritos when they’re swaddled, minus the cheese.

I went crazy for potatoes; mashed, baked, fries, hashbrowns, any way. There were a few times I considered eating a raw potato because I didn’t feel like I could wait. Pregnancy hunger made me feel like I could even eat my own arm if I didn’t get food right away. After I had my daughter I thought the crazy hunger would calm down but when I was pumping, my need for food this very second seemed almost as bad.

It surprises me that the little hummingbird refuses to have anything to do with potatoes but my hubby says it’s probably because I ate so many while she was in the womb that it’s enough to last her a lifetime.

I had to have ginger ale almost every day (I still have to have some in the house) and it couldn’t be any brand. It had to be Canada Dry. It was rare that I couldn’t find that brand but if my hubby and I were somewhere and they didn’t have it, he would immediately say he was sorry.

My hubby never really apologized for anything before I was pregnant and doesn’t do it that often now. But when I was pregnant and hormonal with the little hummingbird, if I just looked at him and he thought I was mad even if I wasn’t, he would say he was sorry.

I went completely crazy when it came to orange juice and anything that was fruity. I’m usually a chocoholic so it was weird when I would want something like lemon meringue pie over a brownie. My husband and I still joke about my crazy obsession with orange juice while pregnant. Towards the end of my pregnancy, we would have to get 2 one gallon containers of it a week.

The first time I realized I had a love affair with orange juice was at the beginning of my second trimester. I couldn’t sleep because my hubby was snoring and I had “morning” sickness 24/7. I was in bed and finally got comfortable when I got this massive craving for oj.

As much as I wanted it, I didn’t want to get out of bed so I figured it would be there when I got up in the morning and it wasn’t likely that my hubby would drink what’s left of it.

When I got up that morning I sprinted to the fridge and saw there wasn’t any orange juice left. Then I saw that the empty container was in the recycling bin. I felt like I was in a slow motion scene from a movie when someone yells out noooooooo!

The hormones were creeping up in me and I had to call my hubby who was at work. When he answered the phone I wasn’t screaming and didn’t even raise my voice. I’m pretty sure though that pregnancy hormones come out in our voice for our guys to hear just like dog whistles to dogs.

When I asked him if he drank the last of the orange juice he said uhhhhhhh like he thought I was going to jump through the phone and rip his head off. Both of them.

Then he said I’m so sorry. I’ll get more on the way home. I cheerily responded with Okay, thanks, love you, bye which probably sounded to him like you’re in deep shit and I’m going to kill you for drinking the last of the orange juice that OUR BABY needs when you get home.

Not that I ever said anything like that anytime during my pregnancy I totally did.

Comments { 22 }

This will either scare you away or, well, scare you away.

I was up with insomnia last night and my thoughts turned to my blog. Here I share so much and open the door to my life, whether I’m going through ups or downs. I don’t like to sugarcoat things, like when I had that rough patch with my hubby which was made worse by the depression and anxiety I’ve been going through.

If you met me in real life you’d probably think there isn’t any way this person writes what I do since I’m painfully shy and quiet which can come off as me being stuck up and bitchy but I’m just extremely nervous in social situations.

I definitely have my bitchy moments and have perfected my “I’ll kill you in your sleep” look to my husband after he’s done something that pisses me off but in general I don’t think I’m a bitch but that’s probably what all of the true bitches say. ;^)

Obviously people who really know me see the real me, good and bad. That’s what I’ve been doing more and more on my blog; showing the real me.

I tend to overshare and give you way too much information about myself but it actually helps to just get it out in the blogosphere and I love when I find that others can relate.

When I started my site, I had no idea what I was doing but I had planned on making it mostly about the little hummingbird which ended up not happening as often. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get off of my chest.

While I don’t see my blog changing too drastically and there will still be my typical posts, there are things I would like to write about that I haven’t before, at least not in such a detailed way.

Basically I’ll be writing like how I talk to my mom, which is very upfront and I’m so glad that I have that rapport with her. Come to think of it, I’m already pretty upfront here but there will be topics every now and then that could be about something women might not really say much about, for instance What I didn’t expect after expecting.

It also means there might be times when your jaw could drop to the floor or you’ll be thinking to yourself I’ve experienced something similar and this makes me feel like less of a freak.

I really hope it will be the latter!

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A guest post by a kick ass mama of two who’s a baking extraordinaire. After seeing her goodies, I want to be her sister wife. Get your mind out of the gutter, Pervy McPervington. I mean her baked goodies.

This guest post comes from Ryan Ann who lives in Illinois and started her awesome blog Live, Laugh, Love, Bake in January. She shares many different things on her blog and what really caught my attention was her amazing baking skills. One that had me at hello is her white chocolate cake that she made for her friend’s hubby’s birthday. It’s beautiful! Just try to look at this without drooling:

My hubby goes bust a nut crazy every Fall for all things pumpkin and Ryan Ann has a recipe for chocolate chip pumpkin cookies that I know we’ll all love. While I’ve said before that I’m allergic to the kitchen and can’t cook, I do love to bake but with the exception of a few recipes, I usually end up getting something in the refrigerated section of the grocery store and throwing it in the oven.

 Honestly though, after reading through her blog, Ryan Ann has helped my fear of the kitchen. I saw a recipe I know my 2-year-old will love, blueberry muffin cookies with vanilla lemon icing, and I came across this step that made me laugh out loud…”add blueberries and GENTLY fold into cookie dough. (Yes, you have to be gentle. You don’t want to break the blueberries. They haven’t done anything to you!)“.

Other posts I love; Fuck Ups Happen & Sock and Underwear Gnomes.

The little hummingbird loves to color and even though I watch her like a hawk, there was a blue crayon vs. our couch incident that looked like a Smurf murder scene and a green crayon vs. all of the hummingbird, including her light pink pants. Washable crayons my ass.

As much as I try to keep track, there seems to be a stray crayon that hides where only my little girl can find it. That’s why I got all giddy when I saw Ryan Ann had a post on how to make chunky crayons in a mini muffin tin. I’m sure there will be future crayon incidents but at least with the chunky crayons, they will hopefully be easier for me to find.

I highly recommend checking out Ryan Ann’s blog and I will now shut up and hand the reigns over to her.


 More Than Just Mom….

I’m the proud mama bear of two really kick ass kiddies, Michael 12 and Lucy 7. I’m the wife (and sometimes it seems, also the mother of) a 34 year old mechanic with a bottomless stomach and an incessant NEED to race on the dirt track every.. single.. Friday.. night.. I am the strong willed daughter of a strong willed mother- (who we LIVE with in my grammie’s old house, need I say more?) I am also a maid, a nurse, a short order cook and waitress, a free taxi service, a psychologist and a referee.

I embrace all of these roles, but have come to realize that there is one title that always gets left in the dust: ME. I was me before I had kids and surely starting a family doesn’t mean that I have to entirely give up my old self, does it? (DOES IT?!?) It is so easy to lose ourselves in the day to day grind that comes with being domesticated. We feel selfish for thinking about ourselves or our own wants and needs.

As someone who hasn’t left the house- other than to go grocery shopping- in 2 months, let me just say this… You know that saying “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy?” While grammatically fucked, it is completely true! I know I can definitely feel my sanity slipping away… Errrr… what’s left of it, anyways.

So, maybe as a statement or perhaps just a reminder to myself, here I am in type:

  • I drink my coffee (LOTS of coffee) black with sugar.
  • I dye my hair often and all shades of the rainbow.
  • I am tattooed and pierced and am quite happy this way.
  • I desperately need to lose weight and am NOT happy this way.
  • I too often allow myself to get treated like a doormat.
  • I have a very dark sense of humor and it’s not my fault if YOU can’t take a joke.
  • My mouth would make a trucker run to confession, but I’m working on that.
  • Good manners are surprisingly important to me.
  • I have HAD IT with this bully issue and my son’s school that does N O T H I N G about it!
  • Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice, go to hell.
  • I bake often, and always all from scratch.
  • My family is my L I F E!

With all that said; tonight? I’m getting the hell out of dodge, going out for coffee with some friends where I will enjoy being…. well… ME. And then I will come home, re tuck my kiddies in, kiss their foreheads, wash my face off, go to sleep and wake up feeling renewed and ready to go. Because really, I wouldn’t trade my life for the world.

*If you would like to write a guest post, whether you have a blog or not, send me an email at elle.mommyhood@gmail.com.

Comments { 7 }

Like a hummingbird on crack.

My 1 year blog anniversary was on July 2nd and I wasn’t going to do anything but since I’m sick, I’ve been looking at my early posts and decided to repost a few. We can just pretend that today is July 2nd unless that was a crappy day for you. If so, you don’t have to pretend and can just think to yourself that this blogger chick is a lazy ass which is the case.

A post I did only 4 days after I started blogging was called Go Speed Racer, Go. I thought my daughter crawling and getting into everything was bad but after she started walking, holy hell!

The only way I could describe it was that she was “like a hummingbird on crack” but I was very close to taking that out of the post.

I actually got a comment for that post and back then, when I would see that Yay! someone is reading my blog and took the time to leave a comment, I would run to tell my husband and do the happy dance. Okay, I admit I still do that since I can’t believe people read my blog.

The comment on the post was from Nic at My Bottle’s Up and if you don’t read her blog already, it’s a must and she is awesome. I also give her total credit for my tagline because if she didn’t suggest it, I probably wouldn’t have even thought about using it for the tagline.

nic @mybottlesup
July 6, 2010 19:59

i’m pretty sure “a hummingbird on crack” has got to be THE BEST analogy ever. i’d definitely copyright that little gem, and pop it up as your tagline… “keeping up with a hummingbird on crack.”

My reply:

July 6, 2010 20:14

I was actually going to take that part out b/c I didn’t want to sound weird but then I figured I AM weird so why not. Great idea about the tagline. Maybe I should put that under my twitter bio too.

So that’s how the hummingbird’s nickname was born and here’s the post I did on day 4 of my blog:

Go Speed Racer, Go!

July 6, 2010

Since she started walking back in June, my little girl is like a hummingbird on crack. My head spins when I watch her race from room to room. I jump around constantly trying to keep her out of harms way and sometimes fail.

My body contorts itself in ways I never thought possible. I feel like Linda Blair without the whole possessed by the Devil part although the hubby would probably beg to differ.

Peeing has become an Olympic sport for me. While I’m doing my business, my little girl will walk into the bathroom and stick her hand in the garbage. I take her hand out. She opens up the sink cabinet. I take my foot and close it. She’ll start closing the bathroom door on her fingers. I grab the door just in time.

You get the picture. I’ve become a ninja of sorts. My little girl is so hyperkinetic. It wasn’t too long ago that I would lay her down somewhere and she would, GASP, stay put.

In her early months I would have trouble finding the time to take a shower, do laundry, or anything that would require me to take my eyes off of her for a second because oh my gawd what if I missed out on her doing something!!

Ahem. I look back and see how much time I did have and think to myself why the hell didn’t I take advantage of it because now, that ship has sailed.


Something I never liked doing was cutting the little humminbird’s fingernails, especially when she was a baby because her nails were paper thin. I wrote a post about it last August.

The One With The F Word.

August 31, 2010

No, not that f word. The other one, baby fingernails. I hate cutting my daughter’s fingernails. They’re so tiny and she never stays still. When she was a newborn, we tried to use little baby nail files instead of clippers. Ha! That was a big fail. I’ve also tried to con my hubby into clipping her nails but since he leaves his toenails Freddy Krueger style, he never thinks they need clipping.

When she was about 2 months old I nicked her thumb with the clippers. I held my breath, looked at her to see if she was okay, and then there was crying. Both of us were in tears.

I raced to the bathroom to find something to stop the bleeding. I grabbed a tissue to wrap around her thumb but her arms were flailing about. Blood was smeared all over her clothes, her blanket, her face, me, and our bedspread. It looked like a bloodbath. She was starting to calm down but I was still in a panic.

I couldn’t believe that much blood was coming from such a small finger. I found some bandages but trying to put one on her finger was impossible. Those fingers are teeny tiny. I called my hubby at work to tell him what happened and he assured me that our daughter would be okay.

She was still bleeding and I found some gauze and tape. The makeshift bandage I finally got on her finger was bigger than her whole hand since that was the only way I could get it to stay on. There were layers of gauze and tape wrapped around her tiny, bloody thumb. Then she was trying to suck on her fingers and my new mom-itis got me thinking that she was going to swallow the bandage. I could just picture having to take her to the ER for choking on it. Oh, the joys of new mommyhood.

So I swaddled her until the hubby got home. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw her bandaged finger. Just earlier he was telling me that she would be fine and then he sees this HUGE bandage on her finger. I took it off and showed him the cut because I thought he was going to start panicking.

Now that my little girl is older, it’s only gotten more difficult to cut her nails. Whenever I try, her legs go thunk thunk thunk against her changing table. It’s like she does these tap dancing routines. People have suggested trying to cut her nails while she’s sleeping but she’s asleep and she wouldn’t stay that way if I did. I couldn’t imagine having to sneak into her room with the hubby, flashlight in one hand and nail clippers in the other.

I think they need to have grooming salons for babies. Out of all the things that come with motherhood, cutting fingernails is something I would pay big bucks for someone else to do. Bring on the diaper blowouts, throw up, teething, crankiness, screaming, whining, and tantrums. I would rather leave those itty bitty fingernails for someone else to cut.


Since I’m taking a look back, here’s one of my favorite pictures of the little hummingbird from last summer. Except for a few times, she never lets us put her hair in a ponytail.

Before I can even get her hair brushed into a ponytail or pigtails, she’ll start shaking her head and will try to run off. This was one of those rare times that she let me put her hair up and it lasted a record 5 minutes.

Here’s my sweet hummingbird who can make my heart melt one minute and make me want to pull my hair out the next. I miss those cheeks! She’s growing up too fast. sniff.


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