Friday Shorty | Learning

Isn’t it funny the subjects we become experts on once we become parents? For instance, I’m currently an expert in the heavy equipment industry. Show me a piece of equipment, I can rattle off the name, the year it was made, what attachments it has and the EPA category it’s in. Little boys have a way of making sure you know this kind of important information, and if you get it twisted, be prepared for an earful, because that’s rookie behavior and we don’t win championships with a team full of rookies who mix up excavators with tractors. Damn, girl!

Aside from excavators and front loaders, I also fancy myself a fruit snack connoisseur. In my opinion, there are three big things you should consider when picking out the perfect fruit snack:

  1. Quantity in the Package
  2. Density of the Fruit Snack
  3. Shape of the Fruit Snack

The fruit snack I’ve found that checks all of these boxes (plus some), has to be Mott’s. Those little shits are good. If you’ve never been taken to Flavor Town by a Mott’s fruit snack, you’re missing out. It’s basically a Gusher™ without the questionable goop on the inside. And if you’ve never had a Gusher, well, sweetie, I simply can’t help you. You’re a lost cause.

Now, you may be asking yourself, “is she really writing a blog about fruit snacks?” and the answer is yes, I am. But, you’re one the reading it, so who’s the real dork here? Kidding. We’re both great. We’re thriving. Look at us! 

The point is, I’ve found myself shocked with the amount of learning that’s happened during this phase of my life. The phase, generally, being “Early Parenthood”. Early parenthood? Is that a thing? Whatever, it makes sense in my head. What I mean is, when I was pregnant, I learned new things every single day. For example, I learned the my nipples could grow to the size of frisbees and that getting your cervix checked felt like a medieval torture technique. When my kids were newborns, I learned the difference between their hungry cry and their “I’ve just ruined the third outfit you put on me with a massive blowout” cry. I also learned that pajamas with zippers are the only way to go and that the longest my youngest could ride in a carseat without summoning demons with his screams was approximately 24 minutes and 13.5 seconds. Now with two boys 3 and under, I learn something new every day. A lot about them and maybe even more about myself (like how my patience on the 3rd week of my cycle is dangerously low, but chocolate helps me cope).

But, the whole point of learning is to share your new knowledge, right? I’m pretty sure that’s the point. Hence the recommendations on the fruit snacks. I don’t do that for my health. No, really, I don’t. What I forgot to mention is those delicious little cuties are 80 calories per shot (I dump them into my mouth all at once like a shot) and unfortunately the scale reflects that.

As you may have noticed, I’m a big sharer of information. A lot of times, I’m a big sharer of too much information. Just ask my mom. Also, just ask my Twitter followers, and my husband, and my coworkers and that guy at Trader Joes last Wednesday. I’m sorry to all of you. But, I can’t help it. I hear something I think is interesting or “helpful”, and I share it. It’s called “advice”, look it up. Just kidding. But really, I think I do it because it’s how I prefer to learn. Hearing firsthand accounts from other people is pretty much how I know all of the things I know. From facts about UFOs to the best baby bottles, it’s wild, but true. I think it’s a millennial thing.

I remember when I was pregnant and my husband was reading a parenting book. I was so annoyed with him. Why would he read a book? Why couldn’t he just ask his cousin or mom or aunts about what it feels like when your mucus plug falls out or which nipple balm to use for breastfeeding? It seemed pretty easy to me. I get it now. That is how he prefers to learn. He’s fact based. He’s data driven. He’s….he’s smarter than me. Don’t tell him I said that.

I’m really thankful for all the learning I’ve been able to do over the past few years. Which really has nothing to do with me and everything to do with someone like you. I’m really thankful for all of the teaching people have done for me over the past few years. All of the people who have shared their experiences and their knowledge, especially about parenthood. All of it, and I mean all of it, has helped me so much on this ~*journey*~. From my best friend and I comparing pregnancies and the emotions that came with them, to my mom telling me how she felt the first time she looked at her first baby (no brag, but that was me!), to the stranger on the internet telling me which sleep sack helped her fussy baby sleep longer hours through the night. I took all of that information and advice and stored it away until I needed it. And sure enough, I have needed ALL of it at some point in time. I’m sure there’s some still shoved into the deepest parts of my brain (right next to my locker combo from 8th grade) that I haven’t needed yet, but will soon, and I’m so glad it’s there.

So, thank you, fellow oversharers. I’m so glad you told me about what kinds of pads to use after giving birth or how often to take the stool softeners. You might not know it, but you really saved my ass.

What was the best parenthood advice you’ve ever gotten? Share it below!

Friday Shorty

Hey everyone!

If you’re reading this, you survived the week. Good job, I’m proud of you. If you’re reading this in the morning, I hope your coffee is the *perfect* temperature for sipping. If it’s the evening, I hope your glass of white wine is so chilled that your glass is starting to sweat. And if you’re reading this at that awkward time in the afternoon where you’re not sure if you should go get a coffee or just start drinking wine, honey, I think you already know the answer. Go with Rosé, be basic. We love it.

I’m keeping today’s story short. Very short. A “shawty”, if you will. Full disclosure, I went looking for the rapper who coined the term “shawty” and stumbled upon this random ass article written by a high schooler for the Burlington County Times! While the source of such an article was a bit startling, I love the dedication to research and I feel more connected to the youth than ever before, which is important to me. Enjoy! (After you read this post, of course!)

Back to the story. You know, the one that was supposed to be short, and then I got distracted by the word…”short”? Yeesh. I pulled this story from my Twitter account. My Twitter account, right or wrong, is my online diary. I use it too often and share too much, but it’s therapeutic, so please, stop your judging. And because I use Twitter too often, I thought it would be fun to share some of those thoughts here, much like I do on my Instagram account. Why not share the madness a little bit further into the internet? My kids will be so proud when they find this in 20 years.

Maybe it’s because I’m entering the 3rd week of my cycle and I tend to get annoyingly philosophical during that time, or maybe it’s because I’m getting older and maturity has snuck up on me and taken up residence in the part of my brain that was saving useless knowledge, like the lyrics to all of the songs on the Savage Garden CD or the combination to my locker in 8th grade. Regardless of the reason, I’ve been thinking about the things that really matter lately. The things we can touch and feel and hug. The people and the places and the experiences that matter. The other stuff? It’s just that. Distracting, shiny…STUFF.

The other day while out for a jog. Okay, walk. I was walking. I came to a realization…

(Story pulled from my Twitter account (@koshiz):

There’s an older man that lives on my walking route and I always see him outside with his pup. I have always just assumed he was living alone because he’s the only one I ever see. Now, I don’t know about you, but that makes me sad. I hold a special place in my heart for older people. They’ve done some stuff and they’ve seen some stuff and they deserve only happiness! Anyway, the other evening while I was out for my walk, I noticed the older man was setting stuff out for a garage sale. My heart sank. I used the information I was given and I decided he was finally selling all of his wife’s stuff and making room for all of his collections of war stuff and bowling trophies, as men of any age do when their wives pass away.

I thought about him all night. I felt so bad for him, I mean, he was certainly lonely living in that house with his Goldendoodle that barks too much, right? So, the next day, I braced myself as I was getting ready to turn the corner to his house. My heart couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him sit there in an old lawn chair selling all of his wife’s Avon perfumes and floral blouses. So, you can imagine how shocked I was when I saw his FULLY ALIVE wife sitting next to him! Sitting there in a God damn floral blouse! I couldn’t believe it. I was so happy. Literally so happy I actually cried.

I had become so invested in this man’s story (which I completely made up based on little fact and shows I’ve seen on NBC, cough THIS IS US, cough) that I cried. For all I know, those two people were newlyweds selling all of her loser ex-husband’s shit to help pay for a honeymoon to Hawaii!

Anyway. The moral of the story is: don’t assume, it can cause you grief you don’t need in your life. And grief, especially unnecessary grief, isn’t any fun at all.

The other moral, and this may be even more important than the first: It’s totally fine to stay inside in the air conditioning and let your husband do all of the outside chores. In fact, you might just make someone’s day when you decide to waddle your old ass outside again.

The end.

So, that’s the post. Pretty short, right? No? Sorry. Twitter makes us keep it short. It’s like they don’t even CARE that we are long winded and get caught up in the details. Pretty rude, yet effective. I’m an assumer, so I’m going to take my own advice. If for no other reason, I think in the long run, it’ll help with the wrinkles, and at this point, I’ll try anything.

I hope you have a great weekend. If you catch yourself assuming, knock it off. You’re too cool for that shit.