Why I love Influenster!

About 2 years ago, I found Influenster. I'm not sure where I originally heard about Influenster or what blog I had been reading at the time that pointed me in that direction, but I'm so glad I did! Based off your interests, lifestyle, and location, Influenster targets influential bloggers with a large social reach and sends them free things from brands looking to launch a new product or get their name out there. These "free things" are generally full size products and often have a super cute theme. They come in packages that I've come to love and know as a "VoxBox."

I started getting all kinds of VoxBoxes over the last two years. One of my favorites to date was the VSSportsBra Vox Box.  I was so excited to find out I was receiving this VoxBox. When it arrived it looked like I had just placed an order directly with Victoria's Secret. Once opened, I saw I had received a new sports bra and leggings! I was so so excited -- this VoxBox was worth around $100 and it is all stuff I, as a runner and a mother, love unconditionally and use/wear frequently! I also received some coupons that I shared with friends so I felt like the cool kid!

I just received an email today about being qualified for another VoxBox! I'm so excited to see if I am accepted and what the products will be! If you're interested in trying out free products from awesome brands, I strongly suggest signing up over at Influenster.com! Great products, community, and people -- oh! And don't forget the Twitter parties for chances to win more products from the brands!! THE BEST!! 

Have you ever received a VoxBox? Which is your favorite?!

Mommy Must Haves: Citrus Lane

I'm a huge fan of subscription boxes. I don't know why they draw me in except for the fact that I love getting mail and I love the element of surprise. With subscription boxes you aren't guaranteed certain products - just some samples. Pre-pregnancy I was constantly going back and forth between Birchbox and ipsy, two amazing make up subscription boxes (if you're interested!) but after I got pregnant, I didn't really see my financial focus being on makeup. Cue Citrus Lane - a baby box! 

Citrus Lane popped up on my Facebook feed as a sponsored post and generally I ignore them but mid-cluster feeding I decided to click it and see what it was about. When it comes to my baby, like most mommies, I want the best stuff for my kid. So I figured I'd go with the one month subscription as a trial to see what to expect. Plus I had a nice little 50% off coupon that I received via email.

First, you put in your child's name, age and gender. That helps Citrus Lane determine what kind of goodies to put in. My box came about a week after purchasing it and when I opened it, I was pretty surprised! Unlike my makeup boxes, these are actual products. It makes sense since the cost per month is a bit more than a make up box! 

 A Look Inside:

Whoa, baby! What are these things!?!

20% Off Coupon to use in the Citrus Lane Box, Vine Market offer (25% Off), & a card from Citrus Lane about what all the products are.

A snack for mama! Back to Nature Crispy Cheddar Crackers are the healthy version of Cheeze-Its (which I love). Back to Nature products don't have any artificial preservatives, hydrogenated oils, high fructose corn syrup, flavors or colors. Um! Where do I buy these? I gobbled these down the second I took a picture and they taste exactly like the "bad version" - so good. Apparently they have honey graham crackers, too. Nom!

Fresh feet wipes from Jasmine Seven. I'm not 100% sure if these are supposed to be for mama or baby but they are for sweaty summer tootsies. If you ask this non-sock wearing mommy, I'm pretty sure my feet will be enjoying these, too. And they smell like peppermint?! Maddy's daddy will be grateful for me using these!

Klick Klack by Haba is a wooden alternative to a rattle. It moves really easily so whenever Maddy grabs at it's well, click and clacking. It's definitely a stimulant for her and with her starting to explore more, I can't complain!

A starfish puppet with a baby -- okay, that's not what it's really called. It's a Ocean Pals Puppet by Skip Hop. This is ridiculously cute & I love getting her attention with it. 

I'm still trying to get the hang of juggling um EVERYTHING when I go out in public. I swear I must have "first time mom" plastered across my forehead. I haven't tried this yet but I'm pretty sure just having it will make me look less clumsy. 

All that said if you're a mommy looking for some new products or you want to surprise a mommy friend, check out Citrus Lane! Feel free to share your thoughts on these products or on other subscription boxes for mommies and babies :)

My Labor Story

Five weeks ago I had a baby. I'm sure, if you're my friend on Instagram or Facebook you've seen the floodgates of photos I've posted. I literally have zero shame. My daughter is adorable and the cutest child I've ever seen in my life (obligatory parent-made comment. Again, no shame)

Madilynn Rose made her appearance on April 10th, 2014. She was 2 weeks and 1 day early. Here's the story. Monday, March 31st, my coworkers tricked me and made think we were having a work happy hour - well, it kind of was... except it was my baby shower! I was so shocked and happy! Seriously, nicest thing ever. I got home a few hours later than normal and the whole train ride I was completely itchy. Like rolling down a hill of fresh-cut grass naked itchy. I showered, still itchy. Everything I did I was itchy. I googled "Can I take Benadryl while pregnant." You can. I took one. I covered myself in baby powder and lotion before finally being able to sleep. My weekly appointment was scheduled for Thursday but then I googled some more. Cholestasis. It's where your liver doesn't break down bile causing you to itch. It's rare. So rare that when I rescheduled my appointment for that next morning and told my OB that I thought I had it, she kind of laughed and basically insinuated I was a hypochondriac. Most times I would agree with her, but this wasn't one.

She wrote me a script for what they treat cholestasis with and sent me on my way. The itching stopped 4 days later. 3 days after that I was back in the office with my test results. Positive. My other doctor (I had 7 OBs at my office) left and came back in. Based off how far along I was + the positive test results for cholestasis and everything else he told me they were going to induce me, call labor & delivery the following afternoon and get ready to have my baby. And guess what I did? Just that.

We went in around 3pm. By 6pm I had started pitocin and by 11pm I was getting my epidural. My epidural finally allowed me to sleep but when I woke up at 6:30am and could feel everything again, I started freaking. By 9:30am, I was getting another epidural as mine had come out of place after my water broke. This one went much smoother. Two hours and some odd minutes later I was feeling like it was time to take a dump. Push time. I pushed for 33 minutes. At 12:32 pm, we welcomed Madilynn Rose into the world. Cue the tears and instant exhaustion. 

As scared as I was for the whole thing, the prize, seeing and holding my daughter for the first time, completely gets forgotten. As frustrating as parenthood has been - the adjustment phase, the baby blues, the sleepless nights, the blow out diapers, the constant feedings - it is the most rewarding thing in the world. Single mommy or not, this is my biggest accomplishment to date and I cannot wait to have you follow the journey of motherhood and Maddy with me.

Burnt Chicken Anyone?

I can't cook for shit. I just can't. I'm that girl that's eating Lean Cuisine's and trying to justify in my mind that it's healthy even though I know that it's loaded with sodium and actually just yeah, not good for me. I try. I've tried. And I will continue to try my best to learn how to cook.

A lot of my inability to cook stems from the fact that I just don't want to. What I mean by that is that, I don't want to cook for myself. It's obnoxious. There's always left overs that I put in tupperware containers and let sit in my fridge for 3 days too long until I'm too skeeved out by the idea.

But I keep getting nagged by my mom to start cooking and making meals for the freezer because come baby-time I'm not going to want to do any of that. Got it. Still being stubborn.

The other day, I thought, you know what? I'm not going to go to Iron Hill and get a $14 salad that I can make at home for about $6. So I got all the lovely ingredients and headed home. Chicken and red quinoa salad with granny smith apples and oranges. Easy, easy. Or so I thought. Everything was going really smoothly and I was on the final stages of plating the salad. Hey!  Cut me a break, I work in the food industry and good presentation, even if for yourself, is a must!

That's when I heard it. "There is a fire. There is a fire. Beeeeeeep beeeeeeep beeeeeeep. There is a fire. There is a fire." I looked to my left to see that my chicken decided to combust. I blame that on some hormones pumped into my chicken (or something). The next thing I realized was that my whole apartment was a smokey haze. My house smelled so gross for the next day. I used so much Febreeze that I'm pretty sure my cat & I were gagging constantly on the smell.

Needless to say: I need cooking help. Send me your recipes - preferably ones I can make in my crockpot or in my oven - stovetop need not apply!

Oh. And yeah, my fire alarm talks. It's a guy and it can detect fires but can't shut the hell up. Typical.

Always Freaking Out.

I'm kind of terrified about breast feeding. Yes, I took a class. I got the free pump from my insurance company, got all the gizmo gadgets that attach to it - the bags and everything.

But I'm freaking it out. It's obviously going to feel different and what if she hates my boobs?

So the other morning when my cat decided to jump on me and wake me up after only 4 successful hours of sleep because he needed his Meow Mix wet food mixed in with the remainder of his dry food, I pushed him off. But seeing as how I raised this cat, he's relentless.

He jumped on me but this time on my already tender boobies and then dug his claws in. Yeah, take a moment to cringe because it hurt. Annoyed, I gave him his stupid wet food and crawled back into bed. Annnnd noticed blood coming through my [white] tank top.

So cue me running to the bathroom cleaning it and putting Neosporin all over my whole right boob, grabbing it and crying. Then I started googling "My cat scratched my nipple and I have to breast feed in four weeks." Guess how many results came back? Zero.

Silly story aside, there's a lot of pressure women have to breast feed. I met a woman in my class who was expecting her second but never took a class, was just told "it happens naturally." So if you don't know to basically stick your whole nip basically behind the roof of your kid's mouth you're going to run into like chaffed tots. Pass.

Sure I'm glad I took the class and I really did learn a lot but if I try and like try again even when I want to give up, I'm told it gets easier. That and not stressing about it. I've got 3 weeks to nurse my cat-scratched nipple back to health and hope to goodness gracious it can still deliver the product. Then I'm sure I won't stress about it. Ughhhhh!!

The First Time I Thought I Was Having Maddy.

I'm going to be completely frank here when I say that I tend to overreact. I know, it's completely shocking, but I do.

And apparently other moms at this stage in the game do as well, so for me to sit here and panic the other night I'm told is normal. Finally.

Facebook knows what happened. Twitter doesn't. Somehow fitting my saga into 140 characters would just not suffice and I'm not one to do that (1/3) or twitlonger bologna.

So you want to know what happened? Gotchya. Obviously I've really hyped this up so hopefully you're entertained.

It's close to my bed time and I'm feeling grimey. I had a subway ride and sat in the seat since my feet were so swollen. Seat smelled like piss which is always my fear whenever I'm on the Market Frankford Line. Anyway. I came home, got in the shower, nuked myself until I decided I should save a whale or two and just go to bed. I'm always greeted by my cat the minute I pull my shower curtain back. Zombs is obsessive with licking the shower curtain lately. Somewhere between him jumping up on the ledge of the bathtub to lick the curtain and me drying off, he decided to scratch my foot because why not!?

I'm so immune to Zombie scratching me in a playful way that I'm almost completely unphased when his daggers get me. This was one of those moments. But Zombie is like a dog so once I shut the light off in the bathroom and headed into my bedroom, he followed, ran ahead of me and jumped up on the bed looking all cute - to which I could not resist petting him and loving him.

There I was, sitting on my leg, wrapped in my robe petting my cat. Two minutes later Zombie decided biting was a more fun option to which I said "Forget you!" and decided to get dressed. That's when I noticed a brown "spot" on my bed. Holy shit. It's blood. It's f*cking blood! I touched it. Jesus Christ. It's wet, fresh blood. I start panicking when I notice another spot. Oh my God. All I can think of is who's bleeding?! Is it me? Is it my vagina? Is it my baby coming out? Is this labor? Was that my mucus plug? Is my cat bleeding? All no. Where the hell did this blood come from? I'm running to the bathroom - nothing. I'm checking Zombie for cuts - nothing. I'm calling her baby daddy crying, Googling the shit out of things (all of which are only showing spotting in the first trimester and not last) and just ultimately freaking out because at this point I don't even know what number to call and it's 10:30pm and I'm certain I don't want to spend the night in the ER.

Finally, I stand in front of my full length mirror and start inspecting and that's when I flex my heel (which I cannot see without said mirror because of my Maddy belly growth) and see a speck of blood start to appear. Are you kidding me? It was all from that cat scratch in the bathroom maybe 20 minutes ago. So I know I have to call Maddy's dad back.

I know I have to tell him I'm a crazy person and that it's nothing to do with labor.

That it's a cat scratch.

On the plus side, he handled my franticness very well - completely calm and reserved and said "If we have to go to the hospital tonight so be it" and didn't make too much fun of me when I finally came clean about where the mystery blood came from.

So there you have it. My first time thinking I was having a kid and it turns out to be a cat scratch. Now you have a glimpse of what my other half has to deal with on a daily basis. Poor guy! These stories are only going to get better; I'm calling it now... Stay tuned!

A Long Overdue Update

Ok ok ok. I give in. I have gone an entire month without blogging and to no one's fault but my own. Unless you count Netflix and that addicting House of Cards show.  Oh. And Maddy. Maddy has caused this Mama to start "nesting" - scrubbing carpets, the bathroom, my bedroom, her bedroom, the kitchen, rearranging her clothes in the drawers and in the closet (to the point of changing which hangers her stuff was on because my mind was that off the deep end). And now, I'm ironically calm. Or at least attempting to be as my hands feel like I have arthritis and my feet look like we took her dad's bike pump and pumped a quart of air into them. 

So pregnancy has been testing my sanity. Nine times out of ten I stop myself and ask why the hell I am cleaning the stove top again. Or cleaning all her bottles. Again. Or rearranging her diaper bag(s) again. And everyone I speak to tells me I need to rest, I need to relax. This would be great if my mind weren't running a million miles per hour. Maybe it's anxiety that stems from the approaching "single mom" world I'm about to venture into. Despite having an amazing group that supports me being a mom (including Maddy's daddy) I can't help but panic or think of things I have to get done. Typing this, I've just realized I still haven't put together her stroller successfully - that shit is definitely a two people job. And don't get me started on the fact that my car's interior looks dirtier than my Ford Escort that I had in high school. I'm going to put a kid in that?  But I don't even know where the closest car wash is. 

But the last month hasn't all been stressful to the point of me going from brunette to gray. That'll happen post-baby and once my daughter hits her teen years. The past month I've been so grateful in many aspects including my baby shower thrown by my sisters and mom. They went above and beyond - as did all my friends & family members. I was grateful that some of Maddy's paternal relatives made an appearance, too. 

Baby showers go by so fast. I seriously felt like I walked in, opened presents, ate (kind of) and walked out only to go home and unpack everything and then divy up the loot between what stays at mom's house and what goes to dad's. It was a beautiful day though and I'm again, beyond grateful. Our daughter -- beyond spoiled! I literally came home and cried my eyes out, completely overwhelmed.

We are approaching week 36. Aka, I've officially begun to get nervous every single time I go to the bathroom. I'm paranoid! Completely paranoid! Every time I wake up in the middle of the night I think "Is this it? Is this my water breaking" and then of course, I finally have Braxton Hicks contractions. I'll tell you more about that later (look for the story about me thinking I was in labor tomorrow morning!)

Mommy & Daddy are getting along great (knock on wood!) and work is going well, too. I am overall in a really good mood and just really anxious to meet my little girl! 

Baby 101 & Done

I woke up Maddy's not-so-morning-needs-eight-full-hours-of-sleep Dad this morning for a baby class. Parenting 101 or First Time Parents. Whatever the title was. This time I was feeling a lot more confident than that Breastfeeding class I attended. Not only did I have the other half responsible for our little one alongside of me, but I knew where I was going, the whole intro process... I was ready.

First issue - getting Dad out of bed. 

Second issue - "We have to take pillows to the class" But all his pillows suck and we were both kind of embarrassed. (We left them in the car)

Third issue - it was starting to snow and we were taking my car. Awesome.

We get to the class and we're both exhausted. I'm thinking "This will be great - If I don't fall asleep." We do the intros, which are always done by the women as the men sit there and get introduced by the woman. Your name, person who is with you, where you're delivering and your due date. I'm the only one in the class to not address my support person as their husband. He is my baby's father. The looks come my way. We smile back at the faces staring at us and are welcomed to the class.

First part is pretty standard - where the bathrooms are, the exits in case of emergency and oh my God, she brought us Dunkin Donuts. Don't mind if I do. Then we kick it into high gear starting with contractions and different birthing methods and then, 15 minutes before lunch watching a woman squirt out her kid. We do a breathing exercise next on these mats on the floor. Maddy's Dad makes me laugh so hard that I'm convinced that's what contractions feel like. Just as long as I don't pee my pants.

We get an hour break for lunch where we head across the street to the Ale House and I down a chicken parm sandwich almost as fast as he eats his open faced Reuben. But I want ice cream and we have 20 minutes to kill. Chick-Fil-A it is. Yes, it's still snowing. Yes, I am that girl that eats ice cream whenever. Screw that summertime only, nonsense!

Round 2 starts out in the birthing center. We've seen this place two months ago after I got woozy at work and needed to be checked out to make sure everything was okay but it was nice to revisit. We check out the L&D room and then the recovery room, see where our beloved family will be camping out waiting until they play the Lullaby music over the hospital loudspeakers to announce a new baby has been born (it's the cutest thing ever!) and then where the OR is for any C-sections. This is my favorite part because it makes me want to jump in the bed and say "Let's do this thing!" but I'm also overly anxious to meet my daughter and with 10 weeks to go it feels like forever.

Last part is where it gets real. Pain medication, what happens if you need a C-section, positioning of the baby. This is where I learned the most. And where I decided this baby better come out of my vagina. Yes, I seriously just said that. Seriously. We jump on the mat for another 15 minute exercise where we practicing positioning for pushing (without actually pushing) and I get a little tailbone massage to demonstrate what to do if I'm having labor pains. Suggestion for next class: It's not just the tailbone that needs a massage. Homegirl would have preferred the shoulders and mid-back, too, but whatever!

Class dismissed. We survived with minimal laughing and more maturity than I thought we would have. Nothing felt better though, then kicking off the shoes and taking a nap on the couch with the cat after class.  With that, I've completed all my classes and now the only thing left to do is wait until I can start Mommy101 -- a real life experience no class will ever prepare me for!

10 Weeks Feels Like 10 Years,

I'm A Working Mom.

During my breast feeding class we went around the room and mommies shared how long they planned to take for their leave. All but one of us were first time moms. I sat and listened as people explained they'd be using their full FMLA leave (more power to them) and one who was lucky enough to be a teacher due in April who wouldn't have to return until the next school year Side Note: I am enviously hating her. Then there was me. 

"I guess it depends on how I deliver, but I'll be taking 6-7 weeks for vaginal and 8-9 weeks for a C-Section" Sorry for the guys who read this who may have just winced at the word "vaginal." I still get bright red having to say that word in front of my male coworkers.

I felt like the whole room gasped and stopped breathing for a second. The lady leading the class looked mortified. I looked confused as anything. Was that the wrong answer? What the hell?! I thought this was supposed to be along the lines of an AA meeting - you know, a non-judgement zone.

I can tell you right now the looks increasingly became more concerned as I proceeded to mention that my sanity depended on returning back to work and that I would go crazy not having my schedule. Schedule is a word that, although you try and create with your infant, does not always go as planned (or so I am constantly reminded). Leaving work every day and feeling accomplished is a small little thing that goes a long way in my book. Recognized or not, just knowing I put in a solid 8+ hours to drive top line sales gets me more turned on than Maddy's Dad - yes, I just went there and yeah, that was actually a little dramatic. But I hope you understand what I'm saying here.

If you don't, it's that work is important to me. People keep asking me when I'm going to start my maternity leave as Maddy's due date gets closer and I just joke around that I'll be in labor taking a SEPTA train to the hospital; working up until the little lady's ready to make her debut. For the record, I will be mortified if my water breaks at work and that actually happens but it's funny to joke about it as long as the universe doesn't take it seriously.

I want to be able to juggle the hats of working woman and mom. I watched my mom (and dad) both work full-time to support my sisters and I. Being able to provide for my daughter and show her what work ethic is is one of the most valuable lessons I plan on teaching her. I'm lucky her dad is just as driven by hard-work as I am. It should terrify all other parents that we will have the most organized, dedicated future CEO of a company as our child ;)

Did I expect anyone to sympathize for me when I mentioned how long I planned to take to recover and adjust to motherhood? No way. I don't expect to give that to myself. I have nothing against stay at home mommies. In fact, I don't know how they do it. But now you have the perspective of a workaholic mommy who, as much as I will literally adore every tiny thing about my daughter, will absolutely need to return to work as soon as I can for some consistency and stability in my day-to-day!

Queen of the Post Its and To-Do Lists,

Load Up the UHaul, Baby!

Moving in general sucks. It always does. You're scrambling to find someone who will help you carry your dirty laundry up flights of steps and it's always a pain in the butt. Nine times out of the last ten experiences I've had with moving, I usually end up crying or screaming at someone because it's not being done the way I want it to.

Now try doing it while you're pregnant. Twice. 

The first time, back in November wasn't that bad. I was moving home and having everything taken care of for me on a regular basis - including my laundry and all my meals. Talk about luxury! The suckfest was that I was 2 hours away from work and my doctors and my baby dad (which obviously wouldn't be feasible after little Mads arrived). So I searched high and low for about 2 months until I found the place I'm currently living in.

Except now I'm 7 months pregnant and extra cranky and bigger and my back actually hurts. Not only did I now have to move everything 2 hours BACK to the area where I was living before, but I had a storage unit that had stuff in it, too. Praise Jesus for my mother, baby's father and his dad. [Grand]parents of the year award to them!

I managed to get everything unpacked and squared away in just 2.5 days - except for Comcast. That's still a pain in my butt and dealing without cable and internet for a week is torture. Pretty sure that was the most hormonal experience I've had this far and my yelling at Customer Service topped any preggo outburst I have had.

The best part about this move (besides not crying)?? I have a 2 bedroom apartment now meaning I am actually able to give Maddy a nursery! I can tell you a million times that I was content with the idea of finding a large 1 bedroom apartment and having that just for Maddy and I but if I'm being 100% honest with you, I would have been heartbroken to not have had the opportunity for my first born to put together her nursery.

My older sister hooked me up with my niece's crib and my mom and I put it together. It's a start and it's a really exciting start! It's also safe to say that while in unpacking mode that *drumroll* I'm ready to start nesting! I actually WANT to do my daughter's laundry and put things in drawers and get it all squared away.

Yes, I just said that.

No, I can't believe I did either.

So even though moving sucks more than 95% of things, I'm excited to start my last trimester with this in store. Next weekend we tackle the baby's nursery at her daddy's house :)

Boobies, Party of One.

When my insurance company told me they would front all but 10% of the bill for any of the baby classes I was looking to take, I thought - sign me up! First one on the list: Breastfeeding 101.

Right off the bat, I'm thinking there's no way I'm going to be mature enough for this. Sure, I have boobs (well, now I do anyway) but there was something so weird about sitting around after a 10 hour day at work and watching videos of women breast feeding. Was this even the right thing for me to do or did I want to do it because my mother and sister had?

The class had the option of bringing along a significant other. No way did I want to share this moment with Maddy's Daddy. But as the day got closer, I got a little nervous about showing up somewhere solo. Would people be judging me for being a single mom? I mean, would they know? 

But the day came and like most things related to becoming a parent, you have to put your child's needs first and just "man up." So I walked into the wrong building. Oops. And then trekked across the parking lot in the polar vortex unzipping my jacket halfway through my 1000 foot voyage because I was already sweating. Hormones… real cute. I showed up as one of the last to arrive and out of breath. Seriously, I feel like that's my "thing" during pregnancy.

I scanned the room. Clutch. Only parking available was in the front row. More scanning - everyone has their partner with them. Great. And wait… why did they all have dolls? No one mentioned anything about bringing a doll. I snuck over to my seat and got out my phone. "I'm the only one here alone" was the text I feverishly sent "Baby Dad" before the class began. Luckily one other couple was late so I had about 10 seconds to demand there be ice cream in the freezer before I got home around 9pm. Done.

I skimmed over the 15 sheets of handouts and the first thing I read was "Graze your nipple against your baby's nose" Stop it, right now, hospital. You're drunk. I started to chuckle. What the hell was I about to get myself into? Then the class started. Everyone seemed to ask a decent amount of questions and it wasn't too painfully awkward. And NO you don't all whip out the nip and show the other women in the room (you'd honestly be surprised how many of my friends asked me this!). The woman crying about banana sandwiches and how important breast feeding was to her I probably could have done without -- mostly because I lack self control when other people are overly emotional; myself not included. At the end of the class I was glad I went. I have some literature to catch up on, that's for sure. I do recommend that people go to these classes because it gives you the opportunity to figure out what works for you and what doesn't. No two pregnancies are alike.

That all being said, there was mint chocolate chip waiting for me in the freezer when I got home and a baby dad who asked questions I was able to answer. He seemed proud of me for paying attention & with the choice I will be making to attempt having my kid latch onto my boobies. Hashtag, educated.

Missing My Cute B-cup Bras,

The Whole Truth. Part One.

Pregnant. Single. Depressed.

I guess these were the three words to describe me when I first found out I was pregnant. Not exactly what that portray in movies or TV shows or even that familiar Facebook status from your high school buddies. Sure, I was excited. Being a mom before I turned 30 was definitely a life goal I had wanted to achieve but not under these "circumstances."

My baby's father was my coworker. And we got along really well. I guess too well because the next thing you know we're going on weekend trips to the beach and, oh, conceiving a kid. Did I think he'd be my husband? Maybe once or twice -- but those times I had well over my limit of shots of Fireball at the local dive bar a block from my apartment. So no, I didn't foresee him being the person I'd have my fairy tale happily ever after with. When I broke the news to him that we were expecting we really did try to play happy couple, happy family. It lasted about a week until we realized it just wasn't happening.

Cue the depression. Cue realizing it was "too late" to turn back with the decision we had made to keep a kid. I kept reminding myself that I wasn't going to be the first single mom in the world but when every one of your friends is in perfect relationships and you halt your life to grow a kid in your uterus, shit just kind of sucks. I was starting a new job, having to move back home and crying every night. It wasn't fun. It was the opposite of the Pinterest baby board I spent months crafting prior to ever even having a little one squirming about inside. But I knew that my attitude had to change. Fast. I had to put my big girl panties on. Dude, you are going to be a freaking mom. Get your shit together now. So I did.

Next thing you know I'm seeing a therapist and learning what the hell FTM and DD and SO stand for so I could keep up on baby forums. I was scheduling appointments to get the Dracula-blood-sucking wench at Quest Diagnostics to stick my arm and take out as much blood as humanly possible. I'm doing research about being a first time mom, downloading every app under the sun (like seriously, do I need 5 apps right now to tell me my baby is the size of an Eggplant this week? Answer, no but I do anyway) and starting to worry about things like maternity leave, daycare, and what diaper brand I wanted my kid to poop in to.

Six months in I can tell you this has been hard and guess what? I know it's only going to be harder. My daughter will cry and I won't know why. She will have a "blowout" diaper that will make me gag. I won't shower for a week and see nothing wrong with it while on my maternity leave. And I'll struggle to understand how my single-mom salary is "too much" to get any sort of government funding. But I'm going to and will do it and I will get through it and it will be worth it. No matter how much you can try and prepare for a kid, no matter how happy the relationship, sometimes things just don't go "by the books."

I could have let those three words define the remainder of my pregnancy and I could have bashed my baby's father (though he actually is incredibly supportive) but instead I'm not going to let any sort of words define me or my future or how much I love my daughter. 

I'm going to get through this and be a stronger person. I hope you will enjoy following along in my journey as I look forward to sharing it with you all.

Positive. Pregnant & Happily Yours,

To Selfie or Not To Selfie.

Okay. Right off the bat I am going to tell you - I take selfies. For the 99 attempts I try at taking a selfie, only 1 ever looks cute enough to consider posting on Instagram and after "trying on" all 9 different filters I usually give up and decide it was a waste of 30 minutes. I'm assuming that shit doesn't fly when you've got a crying, screaming (beautiful!) little babe on your hands. It's safe to say I will find out soon! But that being said I went through an internal struggle trying to decide if it was appropriate to share selfies of my little bump or pass.

Just like regular non-childbearing folks, we preggos face our own set of insecurities. Oh that beard of zits? My growing child gave me those after making me crave the pound of Sour Patch Kids I devoured in twentysevenandahalf minutes. Though I haven't been graced with any stretch marks (yet) my weird skin flap where my innie belly button used to be and that cute little brown line right down the center of my belly is enough to make me not want to embrace all that. But I also want to show it off, too. Again, just like normal people, us popping ladies struggle.

So here's 3 personal tips to posting your selfies.

1) If you really need some validation but you're feeling a little apprehensive, create a list of a few friends you email/text them to. I'm pretty sure my top 10 are like "Enough!!!" but I will send them anyway because I straightened my hair and want them all to see. And while they're looking at my straight hair they can also strategically notice the placement of my left hand right underneath my boobs/on top of my bump. *Attention!* Look at my cuteness * That is all *

2) If you think you'll end up in a top list on Buzzfeed because you're posting something questionable, don't. Just don't. Save us the embarrassment for you... and for your child. You know, the one that will so luckily be blessed with being born into a Google-driven world and can bring that picture up years from now. Save yourself (for your teenage child's sake). Need I say more with THIS photo montage? Yikes.

3) Ultimately if you are comfortable putting it out there for your 300 closest social media friends, go right ahead. Rock that selfie, girlfriend. If you're not, share them privately! My baby's father is like, the most (annoyingly) private person you will meet and wants Madilynn all to himself. I, on the other hand, am like "OMG look how big I'm getting and tell me I'm cute right now dangit!" Happy medium? Tweekaboo. Um, if you are app-saavy, download this one now. You'll love it. You can track your monthly milestones without driving people up a wall and still respecting your space.

I intentionally did not post a selfie in this post against all desire to do so. You'll just have to add my on Instagram to see that, I s'pose! 

Someone Who Will Never Use the Kelvin Filter,

Meet the Mom.

Hi all,

I'm the mom behind this blog. You can call me mom if you're into the freaky stuff, but most people just call me Kaela. Or K (I think this is sometimes because people forget how to spell my name and don't want to offend me with a "y" instead of an "e")

Anyway. I am pregnant with a baby that was totally unplanned by my former (very good-looking, irresistibly charming) co-worker whom I am no longer "dating" but figuring out what "co-parenting" is and will be with him. We're having a girl. We decided on a name the minute we found out. Like literally, that minute. If she were a boy, it would have been Dad's pick. Girl was mine. We will tell Madilynn all about how wonderful her mom was for naming her something so pretty when she's like 5 and feels like bragging about how cool I am to her friends. That happens, right? No? Ok, great!

I am in my mid-20s, which is behind the curveball on baby-making. I only know of a lot of people much younger than me squirting out kids. Most of the people older are on their like.. 3rd or 4th. Kudos. I want to have more kids after Madilynn one day, too. But that may change if my doctor keeps informing me about the possibilities of what could happen during labor. I know they have to tell me but really, it took me this long to come to terms with shitting myself -- let's not push it with the tearing saga. #ICant

I work in marketing and social media consumes my life so if you want to see pictures of my baby bump or read quick 140 character blurbs about preggo life, I'm an open book. I'll tell you all about it and maybe even sometimes too much about it. I also like my cat. My former boss says that he bets me $1000 once Maddy's born, I won't take pictures of my dear cat, Zombie. I am waiting to receive that $1000 at my baby shower. Just kidding. Kind of.

Anyway, I look forward to sharing this journey with anyone who will read it. Am I being like Snooki and talking about my baby bump? Sure, maybe. But at least it's going to be more realistic than that damn $15 First Time Mom's book I bought off eBay. I only read up to the second trimester and I'm approaching the third so if this all goes to shit -- well, you know why.

Dreaming of Wearing Pre-Pregnancy Clothes Again Soon,