Be cautious about converting a crib to a toddler bed. It somehow makes bedtime optional.

Goodbye, 2009. You turned out to be the year that almost killed me. A nightmare move. A second baby.  But alas, I survived.  And I am better for it.

Twenty-ten, bring it.

We recently moved to the burbs. Placentia, the land of great schools and blue-hairs. It’s quiet and safe. I love it here. But how we got here is altogether another story. I haven’t blogged about it at all. I think part of it was that I was really sad about it, and part of it was lack of time.

I am confident that we made the best decision for our growing family–to get out from under a house that was too small and too expensive. So we did a short sale, which finally closed just before Thanksgiving. It was a long, drawn-out process that almost killed us. I am SO GLAD it’s over.

I still drive down our old street in Santa Ana twice a day: to pick up and drop off the girls for daycare. The other day, I finally saw the new owner getting into her car (we haven’t met.) And all of the sudden I was filled with resentment and rage. Why was she coming out of MY HOUSE?! Up until this point, I hadn’t had much time to think about it. But it felt like pouring lemon juice on a paper cut.

I know that we chose to leave that house. But the timing of it all was less than perfect. Rob had to go look at houses when I was in the hospital with Ellie. He would take the video camera, then come back and show me. We made an offer on this house before I ever actually saw it with my own eyes. I spent my 3-month maternity leave packing, moving and unpacking. Did I mention that I was also recovering from a C-section? That time is supposed to be for bonding with your new baby, not moving.

Unlike so many others out there, we landed on our feet. So now we dust ourselves off and move forward. But I think it will take a while for me to be okay with all of this.

There is something about getting photo Christmas cards in the mail always makes me feel like crap. I can’t exactly pinpoint why. I think part of it is that I see our friends (with their children nicely groomed, smiling at the camera) I instantly think, “Yeah, it’s so easy for you to juggle with your well-behaved kids that sleep through the night.”

I know that it is just a moment in their life, that it always isn’t always so easy for them. And I know that it isn’t a competition, but why does it feel that way?

Seeing these picture-perfect families just makes my own inadequacies feel exposed. I am aware that things aren’t always as they seem, and most moms, at some point or another, have felt the way that I do now…which is overworked and underslept. I can’t wait for the day that’s it’s a snap to get the kids all dressed up and nicely groomed–and they’ll stay that way long enough to capture the picture-perfect moment on camera.

I can’t even get organized enough to send out Ellie’s birth announcement, let alone a Christmas card! She is now six months old! Those birth announcements have been sitting in her closet since we moved in August. My plan, for now, is to send her announcement and the Christmas card in the same envelope. Just so you know when you get it, it was a HUGE PAIN IN THE A** to do.

So please frame it and hang it in your house, it may be the last card you ever get from us!

I just wanted to lament for a second, so humor me. I’ve been sick since Thanksgiving. It was originally strep throat, then it morphed into bronchitis which has now settled into my lungs. I just picture that mucus dude with the Jersey accent, relaxing on his barka lounger in my alveoli. I cough all day and all night. I’m am so OVER it!

Abby and Ellie have some version of this too–stuffy noses and rattly coughs.

Here’s what nobody tells you about being a mom: When you are sick, the demands don’t change. You don’t get a day or two to hole yourself up in your room and just sleep it off. The baby still gets up at the crack of dawn, there are diapers to be changed and mouths to feed.

And here’s the kicker–Rob is sick too. He stayed home yesterday (we both did) and he acted more like a baby than our actual baby. I know this will pass, but life is hard enough without the craziness of a whole family of sickypoos.

I can, with certainty, say that nobody will EVER call me a “guidette.” If this makes sense to you, then you know that I am talking about MTV’s newest show, “Jersey Shore.”

Over the last week or so, I’ve had almost a dozen friends ask me if I’ve seen it. People that don’t even really watch TV! So yesterday, when I was home sick with bronchitis (and the girls were at daycare) I watched the first two episodes on MTV.

Now, I am not saying that this is groundbreaking television. But it’s a guilty pleasure. As my friend over at The Television Mom says, it’s the perfect hate watch. I found myself longing for the days that what I cared about most was the size of my “poof” or who was going to hook up with “The Situation.” The whole time it was on, I was telling myself that I should be sleeping instead. But, alas, I couldn’t look away. It was like a car wreck, no wait, a train wreck. And I am ashamed to admit I loved every minute of it!

If you’ll excuse me, I should go and get some ham and a bottle of water…

If you still have gag gifts and inappropriate toys left over from your bachelorette party FIVE years ago, just throw them away. Don’t save them in the hopes that another bride-to-be might just want a fallic sippy cup straw. Otherwise, your crafty toddler may get into the stash (hidden deep in your closet) while her daddy is supposed to be “watching” her.

She might then run out into the living room with something VERY embarrassing in her hands–while you IN-LAWS are over for dinner.