10.27.2014

waking up at three to give your baby a binkie
will almost always open the door to insomnia.
you'll read that the blue light in your phone
tricks your brain to think it's daytime,
but you're too warm to leave your bed
for the familiar glow of netflix.
you stalk and you pin and you forget there is anything else to the internet.
you put your phone away.
you toss and turn and adjust that blue body pillow
you tested on the floor of a bed, bath & beyond.
nothing.
you secretly will your husband to wake up so he can hold you
but you refuse to be the one to wake him
because he got up early yesterday morning
and took the baby so you could sleep in.

it seems like no matter how much you sleep,
you are never fully rested.

at 5:13, he will wake to the baby's cry,
roll over and ask if you're okay.
you tell him you've been up since three
and start to cry.
he will hold you close to his chest and keep you safe in his arms.
you try to match your breathing to his,
but exhaustion refuses to let you keep beat.
by some beautiful, blessed miracle,
you fall asleep.

you wake to a whisper that the baby is awake.
you can feel the tears welling up again.
he offers to change her diaper while you twist to the left,
pull the covers over your face and cry a little longer.
a minute passes before pull yourself together enough to empty that bladder
you swear you just emptied two hours ago.

all you want to do is cry and sleep and wish
you had your own mary poppins to drug you with a spoonful of sugar
and to watch your baby while you sleep the entire day.
heaven knows she'd learn more with mary than with barney.

you step into the hallway and curse those lights for being so bright.
tears and sadness wrap themselves around your heart.
part of you wants to let them win.
"keep wrapping. cover the whole thing. i quit."
before you reach the end of the hallway,
before grief has completely won,
a rosy little face with sleep marks smiles up at you.
nothing keeps sadness at bay like the unconditional love of a baby.
it's a love that will carry you through until 5:30.
a love that should be enough to help you power through one more day.

sh*t moms say.

and by moms i mean me.

"jude, you need to be considerate 

of other people's feelings."

"sweetheart, stop playing with those papers.

jude. stop.

juuuude.

you know what?

i'm done playing this game."

"if you let me sleep,

i'll let you sleep."

she never lets me sleep.

i woke up feeling like i'd stayed up all night watching 30 rock, but i didn't. it's awful.

jude woke me up at 6:30 this morning

by pulling my hair and squawking.

at least she's cuter and cuddlier than a rooster.

we were fed, dressed (read: still pajamas)

and ready for the day by 7:30.

jude and i snuggled on the floor

and fell asleep to daniel tiger telling us to help each other 

for fifteeen beautiful and ridiculously short minutes.

jude woke me up from my nap dream

by pulling my hair again.

daniel tiger's mom taught us to

"use your wooooords.

use your words."

daniel tiger is basically raising jude today

since i'm a total zombie mess.

don't babies know when they have a hard night's sleep,

their parents have a hard night's sleep?

and don't they know that means you're not supposed

to want to do anything the next day?

why can't babies appreciate netflix marathons?

these are the questions we really need answered,

neil degrasse tyson. 

it's like, having a baby has made me more honest or "real" or whatever.

a little diddy from february. 

two weeks ago, we made the switch from nursing to bottle feeding. 

it has been one of the hardest things i have done.

jude had a fantastic latch. that first month and a half of nursing was, for the most part, great. then something happened. after about 30 seconds, jude started freaking out. like, legitimately freaking out. screaming, flailing, turning red. she was completely inconsolable. it was heartbreaking and frustrating and overwhelming.
what was i doing wrong? why was she not eating? why couldn't i do this?

i called her doctor. i called nursing hotlines. i talked to moms. i spent hours doing online research. nothing helped. after a lot of talking and crying (on my part), cory and i made the decision to bottle feed jude. i was determined to pump because it felt like the whole mommy world was telling me "breast is best" and if i didn't get breast milk into my baby, shame on me.

i had pumped a a few times before to save up for that blessed nighttime feed, but pumping for a whole day was a different story. when you pump, you have to keep a rigorous schedule in order to keep your milk supply up. so every three hours i pumped for an hour (20-30 minutes on each side) and prayed jude would stay asleep. i cried when i saw i'd barely gotten two ounces from both sides (and that was on a good day). there was nothing more devastating to me than seeing five drops of milk in a 4 oz bottle after 20 minutes of pumping. talk about kicking a sister while she's down.
i have all the love and respect in the world for mothers who consistently pump.
you are incredible.

cory came home to two bawling babies.
"i can't do this. i just can't."
"okay. then brissa, we're done. we're going to formula feed her because this isn't worth it."
"but cory. she needs breast milk. i am supposed to be able to do this. why can't i do this?"
and then he looked at me and said, "no. stop it. you are not a bad mom. this isn't something you did wrong. this is not your fault. she just won't eat. so many babies take formula. look at maty. look at how healthy and happy he is. he never had breast milk. jude will be okay."

so we switched. we switched and i had to learn how to not feel like a failure or a quitter or a bad mom because of it. and, honestly, how stupid is it that? how dumb is it that because of everything i read online and the pressure i put on myself, i felt like a failure because my baby simply didn't want to nurse?

it's amazing how quickly we all calmed down after we made the switch. jude was getting enough food and she was getting it fast. i don't think i was producing as much as she needed and she wasn't getting it quick enough. homegurl likes to eeaaattt. cory and i got more sleep and my crying sessions spaced themselves out a bit more. which was a blessing in itself. i finally felt like i was able to focus all my attention on being a good mom.

now that i've written this out, i'm wondering why i did. i guess what i'm trying to say is that we need to be kinder to ourselves. we need to remember that we are all doing the best we can. it's sad to see that so much of the mom-shaming going on today is mostly self-inflicted. no one is better than someone else. we need to do what works best for us and our babies. because, honestly. as long as they're happy, what else matters?


jude is happy.
jude is healthy.
jude is formula fed.
and that's okay.

photo dumpdate.

jude has officially been six months old for a little over a week.

and i'm sitting here, typing this thinking,

how the heck did that happen?

didn't we just bring her home from the hospital?

but alas, here i am.

a mom with a six month old on the loose.

her favorite activities include:

crawling.

fake coughing.

laughing.

playing "where's jude?"

pretending to be a rocket ship.

eating.

i wish i had an audience every time i fed her solids.

she laughs, kicks her feet, and tries to grab the spoon

to help shovel the food in faster.

and for dessert,

she loves sucking the originally rejected food from her bib.

because, why not mom?

more food is always better.

she's got rolls on top of rolls.

i recently noticed how her arm kind of just rolls into her hand.

she's got the customary "fat baby dimples" in her fingers and knees

and the cutest baby cellulite you've ever seen.

she's recently developed this sweet little dimple on her left cheek 

that only makes an appearance when she's smiling really big.

these past six months have been so hard and wonderful 

and emotional and stressful and great.

motherhood is no joke.

the hormones and the tears are ridiculous

but the baby smiles and chubby little arm reaches

make it all worth it.

i love that little ham.

photo cred. 

i could go for some onion rings.

today i attempted to get jude on a consistent schedule.

lately we've been cat napping in the morning

with a two to three hour nap in the afternoon.

while the long naps have been fantastic for both of us,

i'm hoping a more consistent schedule will help her sleep through the night 

instead of consistently waking up at four for some food.

this morning went pretty well.

jude was able to fall asleep with minimal fussing

and i got to take a shower and start some laundry.

this afternoon has been the complete opposite.

she has been the biggest fuss bucket.

crying as soon as i leave the room.

crying when i'm in the room but not holding her.

crying because her binky fell out.

crying. crying. crying.

i finally had to give in and put her in the carrier.

she went from wide awake to fast asleep in less than three seconds.

what.a.diva.

i let her sleep in the carrier while i ate my sweet potato lunch.

for some stupid reason, i'm trying to be healthy.

after my feast, i took her out, swaddled her, 

put her in her bassinet and made a bee-line for the freezer.

because, screw being healthy.

sweet potatoes can't fix days like this.

days like this call for an early afternoon cup

of mint chocolate chip ice cream

and binge watching 30 rock.

i'm pretty sure this is the kind of mentality that puts me at risk

of starring in my own episode of tlc's "my 600-pound life."

but you know what?

sometimes the only thing you can do is eat your feelings.

AND THAT'S OKAY.

in other news,

i've resurrected my middle part

and i'm not sure how i feel about it.

some thoughts.

in october, cory and i attended a wedding dinner for one of my dear friends.
other than one friend, we didn't know anyone else at our table.
we lucked out by sitting with a group of truly wonderful girls.
by way of introduction, everyone went around the table and said what they did for a living.
cardiac rehabilitation specialist. physical therapist. physical therapist. nurse.
the pit in my stomach grew bigger with each job title listed.
by the time it got to me, i was flustered, intimidated and slightly embarrassed.
i reverted to my first grade stutter and the following explanation awkwardly made its way out.
"i graduated with a degree in journalism and worked as an office manager at a dental office,
but now i just stay home. cooking a baby."

i spent the rest of the evening asking myself why i felt the need to explain that,
even though i "just stay home" now, i did, at one point in my life, have a job.
why was i ashamed to proudly say,
"i am a stay at home wife and come december, i will be a stay at home mom"?
why was i embarrassed to tell those girls, those professional women, that i was living my dream job?

that night, accompanied by some serious ugly crying,
i shared my thoughts with cory.
i told him i wasn't ashamed of wanting to stay home,
but for some reason felt i needed to prove myself.
i felt like i needed everyone at that table to know
i was capable of doing more than "just growing a baby."

the next day i heard a talk that spoke directly to my heart.
this particular section spoke directly to my heart.
"a pernicious philosophy that undermines women's moral influence
is the devaluation of marriage and of motherhood and homemaking as a career.
some view homemaking with outright contempt,
arguing it demeans women and that the relentless demands of raising children are a form of exploitation.
they ridicule what they call "the mommy track" as a career.
this is not fair or right.
we do not diminish the value of what women or men achieve
 in any worthy endeavor or career-- we all benefit from those achievements--
but we still recognize there is not a higher good than motherhood and fatherhood in marriage.
there is no superior career, and no amount of money, authority,
or public acclaim can exceed the ultimate rewards of family.
whatever else a woman may accomplish,
her moral influence is no more optimally employed than here."

the timing could not have been more perfect.
those words were exactly what i needed to hear.
my heart was filled with so much love.
i realized i needed to take pride in my role as mother.
it is the only dream that has stayed constant.
my career goals have always been in constant rotation.

writer. teacher. doctor. actress. photographer. journalist.

despite my revolving door of professional aspirations,
the one thing that never changed was my desire to be a mom.

and now that i'm here, 

there is absolutely no other place in this world i would rather be.

i pick spit-up on an already dirty shirt over a gown at the oscars.

i pick headaches caused by crying babies instead of deadlines.

i pick band-aids over an operating table.

motherhood has not prohibited me from chasing after my dreams.

i know that one day i'll finish those three books i started writing

and finally figure out how to shoot in manual,

but right now,
i am exactly where i want to be. 

g u i l t y

my name is brissa 

and i am an occasional co-sleeper.

and by occasional,

i mean every single morning.

life is easier when we both get sleep.

and if the only way we can get decent rest

is by bringing jude in bed after her 4 am feeding

then so be it.

haters to the left. 

one ddp might not be enough.

jude has urped up on me so many times today,

i'm starting to think the smell of baby puke has seeped into my skin.

i honestly think the only way to get rid of it is soaking in a bath of tomato juice.

nearly every diaper she's had has been messy.

and when i say messy i mean m e s s y.

homegurl means business today.

i had every intention of washing the dishes

but had to kiss those dreams goodbye

when jude decided today was a good day to be clingy.

i have watched more trash tv than i'd care to admit,

nearly cut off my head in order to stop a headache,

and am currently enjoying what may just be

the most delicious can of ddp i will ever taste.

as dramatic and awful as i'm making all this sound,

(and trust me, it is. just, so smelly)

i love it.

every time i've fed her today,

she's held onto my hand.

when i make the slightest move,

she squeezes it tight like she's making sure i don't leave.

she's been screaming like a banshee during her diaper changes

and won't stop until i pick her up and hold her tight.

today,

i feel like a mom.

a real life mom.

one capable of hugging away tears

and making everything okay.

today has been hard

but i believe that's what has made it so great. 

wiiknd: jillian harris loves jude's name so we're basically famous.

gold rimmed specs.

feeding frenzy.

solo driving with jude = slight panic attack.

two week check-up.

homemade macaroni and cheese.

it's always sunny.
"remember how we have a baby?"

urp central. all.night.long.

cory = home show.

brissa + jude = parents house.

oatmeal voodoo magic.

"mmmooooo."

cranberry chicken perfection.

gift card swag.

red 2.

nonna visits + dinner.
jude's first official bath.
no tears.
"baby afro!"
poop. change diaper. poop.
golden globes.
queso.
drug smuggling comedy.
four straight hours of sleep!
one month in week.
:'(

notable updates since having a baby.

"how is there poop on my arm?"

nearly all of our "top ten most terrifying moments" since becoming parents
have happened during diaper changes. 

sometimes there is a little toot to signal a rush of baby poops.

sometimes it feels like we're getting attacked by a ninja.

no toot. no warning. no prep time.

just an eruption of baby poops or pee.

our current record is using three diapers in one changing session.

"cory! i pooped! i finally pooped!"

after having a baby, it's only natural to be a bit tender

in your nether regions. 

they start pumping you full of stool softeners in the hospital

and tell you to keep it up once you get home.
it wasn't as scary as everyone told me it would be,
but i'm so glad it's over.

"i wish my boobs would just scab over already."

jude has a great latch and is a fantastic eater.
but, homegurl likes to eat.
sometimes it feels like all i do is feed her, eat a snack
and then it's time to feed her again.
when she's on a feeding frenzy, the ladies get tender.
just, so tender.
i haven't bled. i haven't cracked.
god bless lanolin!!!!
but goshdangit there are just some days i wish
they couldn't feel those surprisingly strong baby gums.

"jude, why is my shirt so wet? what is that?"

i heard stories of ladies waking up completely soaked in milk
and i was sure that would never happen to me.
one morning, i woke up with one side of my shirt drenched in milk.

i didn't shower or change my shirt all day.
...yeah...

and yes, i talk to my baby like she can understand/answer me. 

h8rz gon' h8.

remember two weeks ago when i virtually yelled

at everyone who got too tmi with me

and now i'm getting too tmi with you?

oh life.

you and your cyclical ways.