MommaBlog

by Jen Singer

For the newish moms out there:

What I miss most is…
…using my tweezers on my eyebrows, instead of using them to retrieve Barbie’s shoes from the heating grate.

…dreaming long enough to find out whether George Clooney wears boxers or briefs.

…having an entire conversation that has nothing to do with poop. Aw, geez! There it is again.

…accessorizing with jewelry and scarves, rather than marker and what appears to be butternut squash & corn.

…dashing out with my car keys and some Chapstick, instead of packing up like the traveling circus just to go to the mall.

…showering without someone opening the door and handing me the phone while saying, “Some lady wants to talk to you.”

…to read a book anywhere but my car, because the baby naps only in her car seat.

…reaching the bottom of the laundry pile. For days.

…my purse, which I haven’t seen since I bought the diaper bag.

…non-animated television programs.

…sauntering through parking lots, supermarkets and Target without having to shout, “Stay by Mommy!”

…sex.

…uninterrupted telephone conversations. And, did I say sex?

Share, share, that’s fair: Tell us–What do you miss, Mom?

Need more giggles like that? There’s plenty of them in Jen Singer’s Stop Second-Guessing Yourself parenting series. Filled with helpful and funny quotes by MommaSaid.net’s fans and loads of advice and humor by MommaSaid’s founder, Jen Singer, you’ll get what you need — just as soon as you can hide in the bathroom long enough to read a few pages.

For more information on where to buy them, visit My Books.

Order your copy of Jen Singer’s Stop Second-Guessing Yourself — The Preschool Years, available now at a bookseller near you and online.

My hospital room view, only here it's from my car in traffic on the FDR Drive.

I made a deal with the Sun: You keep rising every morning from behind the smokestacks that hover over the buildings on Roosevelt Island, and I’ll fight another day.

And then every morning I’d wait, watching the waves on the East River, at first a deep, midnight blue, and then solid gray, and finally, brownish gray as the Sun kept its promise to me. I’d slide off my bed, careful not to yank out the tubes carrying the orange drugs into my arm, and roll my chemo pole into the bathroom.

The Sun was up, and so was I. As promised. But my end of the bargain was harder to keep. More…

Don’t. Yell. Through. The. Glass.

Don’t be that mother.

Don’t be that coach.

Just shut up, sit down and enjoy the off-season. Read that book you brought along. Text your friends. Dig up a quarter for a jawbreaker. More…

By the time we decided to have our picture taken atop the ski mountain, my toes were near frozen — this, despite the toe warmers in my ski boots. That’s my excuse for why I started to slide backwards on my skis right when my brother, Scott, was about to snap a photo of my son, Chris, and me: More…

1. You no longer know the TV schedule from 2-6 a.m. by heart.
2. Your doctor gives you the “green light” for sex, but you ask for a flashing yellow.
3. Your toddler is using your postpartum donut as a hat – and you don’t care.
4. Baby lotion commercials just aren’t the tearjerkers they were a few weeks ago.
5. You’ve stopped calling the baby’s bouts of colic, “The Devil’s Visiting Hours.”
6. Your sitz bath is under your husband’s car, full of motor oil.
7. You can see your ankles again, and boy do they need a good shave.
8. You’re wearing shoes. And pants – with pockets!
9. The baby finally smiles – and you smile back.
10. It’s midnight and you’re spamming baby pictures across the Internet – again.

Coming in May! Preorder now at Amazon:

 Jen Singer’s “Stop Second-Guessing Yourself books have a thank-goodness-I’m-not-the-only-one tone while also offering practical advice for whatever parenting challenges may arise.” — Baby Center

“Jen has bestowed us with the rare parenting guides that actually give parents the shot of confidence we need to survive another day. ” — Cool Mom Picks

Momma went away. Momma went away without the kids, without the husband.  Momma almost went away without the plane (or rather, vice versa), but I didn manage to make it to the gate on time nevertheless.

It’s not like I’d never traveled before, like I’d never been to Newark Airport. Excuse me, “Newark Liberty International Airport.” And yet, there I was, missing my turn for the off-site parking lot and heading toward Port Newark, which would have been handy only if I was planning to board a petroleum tanker. But they don’t sail to Kansas City, and that’s where I was trying to go last week. More…