Dear You

Hi everybody! I was obsessing over browsing through my Google Analytics and I noticed that I’m still getting a pretty decent amount of daily hits from my old blog addresses, which are and

Nothing wrong with that, if you type in either address into your browser you will be re-directed to Mommy Boots but I’m not sure if I will re-purchase when the time comes to renew.

So, to make sure you are up to date and current and don’t lose the ole’ blog, please update your readers/etc to point to I don’t want to lose anyone in case I decide not to renew. And I’m not sure how long my old Blogspot address will redirect. An easy way to keep your feed current is to click on the orange feed button on the right-hand side of my blog sidebar to subscribe & add to your reader of choice!

You could, of course, always subscribe via e-mail (also located on the right-hand side of the sidebar) which would make me happy like this

As always, thank you so much for reading and continuing to support me here at Mommy Boots! xoxoxo!


I just have some random, unrelated things to babble about today, in no particular order.

  • First, thank you for all the amazing feedback and support in regards to my post about anxiety. I feel more empowered than before to take charge and do something about these feelings I’m having.
  • I switched my commenting system to IntenseDebate. Somewhere in the import, some comments got eaten. I don’t know why most of my comments were imported but some were not. I’m frustrated, but for now I’m sticking with I.D. because I like the system. You’ll notice that pretty much all of my posts after December have 0 comments, which depresses me because it makes me look sad and friendless but the comments are there, somewhere, in cyberspace. I re-imported and everything is fine now. Yay!
  • Have you read that Cora’s Law is in the process of being passed in Indiana? Cora’s Law would make it mandatory for newborns to be given a pulse oximetry test to screen for a potential CHD.. And it’s all thanks to Cora and her amazing mother Kristine! I am so proud of Kristine for fighting so hard and tirelessly making sure that Cora continues to save lives!
  • I’m going away for the weekend. Friday through Sunday. I’ll be off on a chorus retreat, barbershopping my butt off. So, internet silence from me. I know you’ll miss me terribly but please try and carry on with your daily lives. This is going to be the longest I’ve ever been away from Nellie. Eeeeeek.
  • My 12 in 11 project is going so well I’ve finished 2 books this month. I read The Hunger Games and on Sunday I bought Catching Fire. I finished it last night. I’m not obsessed or anything. I certainly didn’t look up mockingjay pendants on Amazon or anything like that.
  • Seeing bunches of Blissdom Tweets makes me feel geeky & spazzy and anxious for August, when I will be attending BlogHer ’11. I can’t wait!
  • I tried watching The Kids Are All Right last night with Josh. Great acting, boring as hell. I don’t get why it’s nominated for an Oscar, and I’m usually down with the Oscar Noms. It was like watching someone’s real life, except without any really great drama. I turned it off before we got to the “conflict” of the movie but I read about it on Wikipedia and I was like, meh. Whatev.
  • Abrupt end to the blog post.

Memetastic Award

So, I’m not huge on blog awards these days. When I got my first way back when, I almost shit my pants. I was like HOLY FUCK, SOMEONE GAVE ME AN AWARD. Then I got more, and there was like this big bloggy love award party which is great, but then I stopped doing them because when I’d pick who I wanted to pass the award to I would seriously feel anxious because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by leaving them out. It was just a big fucking headache so I stopped.


This award is too epic and hilarious to NOT share. I’m honored to be the recipient of this beauty:

This amazing piece of internet art was given to me by The Mom Adventures.

Here are the rules & shit:

1. You must proudly display the absolutely disgusting graphic that I have created for these purposes (put it in your post, you don’t have to put it in your sidebar, I think that would seriously be asking too much). It’s so bad that not only did I use COMIC SANS, but there’s even a little fucking jumping, celebrating kitten down there at the bottom. It’s horrifying! But its presence in your award celebration is crucial to the memetastic process we’re creating here. If you need a higher resolution version… I totally have one!!

2. You must list 5 things about yourself, and 4 of them must be bold-faced lies. Just make some shit up, we’ll never know; one of them has to be true, though. Of course, nobody will ever know the difference, so we’re just on the honor system here. I trust you. Except for the 4 that you lied about, you lying bastards! But don’t go crazy trying to think of stuff, you’ll see by the example I’ve set below that we’re not really interested in quality here.

3. You must pass this award on to 5 bloggers that you either like or don’t like or don’t really have much of an opinion about. I don’t care who you pick, and nobody needs to know why. I mean, you can give a reason if you want, but I don’t really care.

4. If you fail to follow any of the above rules, I will fucking hunt your ass down and harass you incessantly until you either block me on Twitter or ban my IP address from visiting your blog. I don’t know if you can actually do that last thing, but I will become so annoying to you that you will actually go out and hire an IT professional to train you on how to ban IP addresses just so that I’ll leave you alone. I’m serious. I’m going to do these things. Starting with the 5 of you I’m about to pass this award on to.

Here are my lies (and 1 truth):

  1. One of my hobbies includes juggling baby geese.
  2. I cannot drive a stick shift.
  3. I have an irrational fear of cotton balls.
  4. I’m on my second marriage.
  5. My best friend in middle school was a street-wise cat named Manny.

Other Lucky Recipients

I’m tagging some people, please don’t get offended if you’re not on this list. If you’re not here, it clearly means I hate your rotten guts.

  1. Salt Says
  2. Me As a Mommy
  3. Blahggy
  4. Mommy, Lost in Translation
  5. Stay at Home Babe

If I didn’t tag you, you can send your hate letters to I love a lot of bloggers and I’d be here all effing day if I tagged all of you bitches.

I’m out. Have a fantastic Sunday and don’t take the lord’s name in vain. Or something. I don’t know. I’m leaving now.

For a Minute, There

For a minute there, I lost myself. I lost myself.. — Karma Police, Radiohead

When I was pregnant, I knew everything. I believe I’ve mentioned this before. One of the things that I just knew was that I wasn’t going to lose my identity when I became a mother. I’m a firm believer that a woman’s identity doesn’t lie solely within the boots she wears. Wife boots. Work boots. Mommy boots (shout out to myself! Is that lame?). Too often when a woman becomes a mother, that becomes her life. Her identity. She identifies as “Jack’s mom” or “Sophie’s mom”. While I am very much “Nellie’s mom”, that’s not all that I am.

…….. But it is kind of all I’ve become.

Most of my dialogue is about my child, because my life revolves around her. I am not saying there is anything wrong with this but it does make it difficult to relate to people who don’t have children. One of my best friends (and coworkers), R, has a baby who is two weeks – TO THE DAY – younger than Nellie. She and I talk all the time. We talk about our relationships with our respective partners, about the frustrations of trying to keep our places clean, about the funny shit our kids are doing right now. Conversation between the two of us comes very, very easily. I have noticed that when I’m around friends of mine who don’t have kids, I struggle to find something interesting to say where I used to be able to talk the ear off of anyone whether they liked it or not. Now? It’s “Nellie does this” and “Nellie is so funny when she…”

Again, nothing wrong with it but it makes me feel uncomfortable. Awkward. Like one of those parents I used to roll my eyes at. You know the ones. The ones that can’t shut up about their child. YEAH. THAT’S ME NOW.

So how do I find myself again? Where did I go? I feel like I’ve lost myself in a mixture of sippy cups and Cheerios. Of weight gain and frumpy clothes. With my new “mom exterior” (frizzy hair, no makeup, body fat) I find myself so much more self-conscious, wondering if people are talking about me and commenting that I shouldn’t be wearing my pants tucked into my boots because I’m too fat. And honestly, I probably am too fat but it’s fucking cold and the boots keep my feet warm.

Even the chorus I used to be so passionate about singing with has taken a backseat to Life. I cannot dedicate even half of the time I used to and it’s got me feeling sad. When I do make it to rehearsal, I find myself feeling detached. Like an outsider. Don’t get me wrong the ladies are wonderful and still welcome me but I’ve missed so much, I feel like I’m an imposter. Like I don’t deserve to be there because I haven’t worked hard enough. Chorus has always been my thing. My hobby. And now it’s just another pile of work on top of my already-busy life… I just can’t find the time to work on my music and it sucks.

So where do I find Natalie? Where has she gone? I know that I’ve changed. I have become less interesting, less funny, more judgmental and stressed out. Maybe it’s a little bit of residual PPD, maybe it’s just typical of being a new (ish) mom.. I really don’t know. But I feel isolated and anxious a lot. I struggle to find things to say. I feel annoying.

Maybe I’m just crazy. But for several minutes, here, I have lost myself and I’m not sure where to find me. I’m trying to be kinder to myself; washing my face twice a day so I don’t break out. Eating better. Taking a multivitamin. Stretching in the morning. Treating myself to something that’s just for me once a month.

But it’s hard. I still feel off. I still feel lost a lot of the time.

Oh hai there, 2011!

Is it going to take anyone else at least four months to get used to writing 2011? No? Just me? Okay then.

On Thursday my best friend from Chicago, Megan, flew in to town. We rang in the New Year with her and our friends Dave & Deborah and later their friend Patti. We played Apples to Apples, and a board game called Quelf (bet when you first read that you thought it said ‘Queef’. I thought the board game said ‘Queef’ and I figured we were in for an interesting night) which was ridiculous amounts of fun. After a 3-store hunt I tracked down some Pinnacle whipped cream-flavored vodka and drank it with root beer & orange soda. Not together of course, those were two separate drinks. It was delicious. We had a blast and despite our raucous laughter during Quelf, Nellie did not make a peep.

Last night my husband stayed home with the baby while Megan and I went out for a little girl’s night. We hopped two different bars, and just hung out enjoying each others’ company. It’s been two years since we’ve seen each other so the visit was very much welcome! Nellie had a blast with her and I will post pictures of their playtime soon.

The holidays are officially over for another year. 2011 brings about a lot of exciting things… Our first full year as a family of three, our daughter’s first birthday…. I turn 27 a week from today. I’m looking forward to seeing what the New Year will bring. I’m sure that 2011 will be just as amazing as 2010 was. 2011 brings in a whole new stage of parenthood……. The start of the toddler years. Nellie’s not walking yet but she is close. I don’t think she’ll walk before her first birthday but I don’t think it’ll be long after.

Megan left a little while ago to fly back to Chicago. I’m sad that she has to go back, but I know that we’ll get to see one another again soon. Tonight, I’ll relax with my family and enjoy the last bit of our long weekend together. There’s a pot roast cooking in the Crock Pot and the Big Lebowski playing on our XBox right now.

Life is good.

Bring it, 2011.

Blogger’s Block


It found me.

Blogger’s Block.

I had a few good weeks where I had things to talk about. Blogs to write. Videos to upload.. Even if the last one I uploaded drove certain peoples‘ husbands crazy (ahem), at least they were there. I had a featured SITS day, have been contacted by some companies about doing some giveaways, and then my good Bloggy mood crashed and burned. My traffic’s down and it depresses me. I know, I know, I shouldn’t obsess over traffic but HOW CAN YOU NOT WHEN IT’S RIGHT THERE, STARING YOU IN THE FACE?

I contracted the Plague this past week which was definitely not cool. Hopefully early next week I’ll have something to blog about, because tomorrow night my husband and I are hitting up the Ruby Falls Haunted Cavern. So that should be fun. My head feels like a big fat balloon my sinuses are so stopped up and if one more person tells me to use a Neti Pot I’m going to fucking scream. I know they’re awesome, okay? I always forget to buy one. I’m also very bitchy, apparently. I always get whiny and bitchy when I don’t feel well and also, AF is due to come in to town any second so on top of my “I’m sick I don’t feel good” bitchies I have the “AF is a big stupid whore and is going to stomp all over everything delightful in my life” hormones.

Sorry I bitched at people who suggested a Neti Pot, I know you’re just trying to be helpful.

I want to see Paranormal Activity 2 but have you seen the trailer? It has a motherfucking baby in it. I don’t think I can handle it. The last one scared the bejeezus out of me and made me paranoid. I still think about that shit sometimes when I’m lying in bed trying to sleep.

Okay so apparently when I have Blogger’s Block, you all get whatever the hell happens to be floating through my weirdo brain at the moment. Lucky you. It’s like creative writing classes, only bizarre and crazy.

I need to stop before I start scaring people away.

You know what would help my Blogger’s Block? You voting for my blog. Actually it wouldn’t help my Blogger’s Block but it would make me so happy I might crap a unicorn. Click on the button below twice and that’s it.


Vote For Use @ Top Mommy Blogs

Cecilia: You’re a Big Whore

The other day while I was at work, the song “Cecilia” by Simon and Garfunkel came on my Pandora radio. Cecilia is one of my favorite songs by the duo and I couldn’t help but dance in my chair and sing along. It’s just so upbeat, and fun!

Now, I have this really odd thing about me where I don’t really hear song lyrics. I mean, I hear them but I don’t really get them right away. I can learn all of the lyrics to a song, sing along to them for days, weeks, even years before I actually comprehend what the song is about. For example, the song Roxanne? Yeah, totally never realized it was about a hooker until I was about 23 years old. Fail.

Back to Cecilia. As I was singing along at work it hit me: Cecilia is a big whore. Paul Simon’s singing about Cecilia, and how she’s breaking his heart and shaking his confidence daily. That’s bad enough. What is Cecilia doing to this poor man that is so heartbreaking? We find out here:

Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia
Up in my bedroom (making love)

So you’re singing along, and  you’re all like “score! Good for you dude, Cecilia sounds hot.”

I got up to wash my face

Then you’re like “Ok, a little weird, who washes their face after sex?” but you still don’t think too much about it. Then, we get to the Big Whore part:

When I come back to bed, someone’s taken my place

Wait, WHAT? Okay so this guy gets freaky with Cecilia, he gets up to wash his face which takes what, all of THREE MINUTES? It’s a GUY, they don’t take all that long to wash their damn face. Okay so dude is gone for maybe FIVE minutes TOPS. You have to take into consideration that he’s probably naked so he’s most likely going to wash his face, pee, and probably shake his junk at himself in the mirror or something because guys like to do that. So he’s gone for five minutes and he comes back and there’s some other dude in bed with Cecilia. WHAT? Could she seriously not wait until Paul Simon like, left, to let someone else in bed with her? Nevermind that, WHERE WAS THIS OTHER GUY HIDING THAT HE COULD GET INTO HER BED IN THE FIVE MINUTES THAT PAUL SIMON WAS GONE?
Then you have to wonder what kind of freak Cecilia is to keep random men hidden in her room so she can just interchange one for the other in between sexual encounters.

Of course you expect Paul Simon to go into a fit of rage over this infidelity but no, he just keeps cheerfully singing about this bitch breaking his heart. If that’s not bad enough, he goes on to sing:

Jubilation, she loves me again,
I fall on the floor and I’m laughing,
Jubilation, she loves me again,
I fall on the floor and I’m laughing

DUDE, SERIOUSLY? She just let another guy into her bed WHILE YOU WERE GONE FOR FIVE MINUTES. This isn’t the kind of woman you wanna keep around! Sounds like maybe Cecilia’s been around town a little bit and god knows what kind of shit she’s carrying around in her ladybits. I’d run my ass outta there, dude.

But whatever, it was the 60s. Maybe that sort of thing was a lot more common back then.


There are no words, so just.. Enjoy.

Ice Cream WTF

My husband is off work every other Friday-Sunday, which is pretty awesome. One Friday night when he was off, I got a craving for some ice cream. I’m not a huge ice cream fan (and in my 1st trimester during my pregnancy with Nellie, the smell of it made me want to vomit) so this was rare for me. But there it was; a big, fat ice cream craving. I had to have it. I wanted it so badly that if I didn’t get it, someone was going to get hurt.

So after dinner we headed to a local ice cream place called Bruster’s. Bruster’s is delicious and amazing, and home of one of the most gigantic brownie sundaes on the face of the planet. Seriously, it’s a massive mountain of ice cream and fudge. But I didn’t want a brownie sundae. What I wanted was very simple, and one of my favorite ice cream treats to have ever since I was a kid:

One scoop of vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.

I am a rainbow sprinkle fiend. It makes no sense, because all rainbow sprinkles are, are little pellets of sugar and food coloring but I love the damn things like… Well, like a fat girl loves ice cream (I can say that, ‘cuz I’m fat, ya’ll). Rainbow sprinkles instantly make ice cream better. Maybe not all ice cream, because butter pecan would be disgusting and confusing with rainbow sprinkles. But plain ole’ vanilla? BRING ON THE SPRINKLES.

So we pull into the drive through and Josh asks me if I know what I want. I hesitate for just a moment, then nod that yes, I do. Now, he has this weird thing about ordering in a drive-thru for me. HE WON’T DO IT. He makes me lean over him and shout into the speaker what I want. So I lean a little and inform the nice man taking my order that I want “one scoop of vanilla, with rainbow sprinkles, in a cup” (‘cuz I don’t wanna be messy, see?). Simple order, yes? Josh orders a chocolate chip milkshake. The guy mumbles something back that sounds like “hurrfur durfur milkshake and blahblah hmpph hrrr babycone will that be all?”
…..Um, sure?
“Okay, that’ll be $3.somethingorother”

Well that seems cheap. Whatever, we pull through to the window and whip out the card. He takes it, walks away and comes back to hand it to us. I peer into the window, my mouth practically watering with anticipation, longing for the moment when those delicious, colorful sprinkles of delight will grace my taste buds with their presence.

A moment later, he returns yet again and hands Josh this:

Um. What?

I’m sorry, but what the effing hell is that? No, seriously. LOOK AT IT. Let’s just talk about this for a second.
I’m not quite sure if you can tell the size from the picture (we put Josh’s thumb in there at an attempt at scale reference) but that scoop of ice cream and the cone could have fit in the palm of my hand. Okay, so, apparently they thought a TINY, TINY WOODLAND CREATURE was ordering some ice cream, BECAUSE THAT’S THE ONLY THING THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN SATISFIED WITH THAT.

Now, let’s talk about the other thing that makes this particular sweet confection a big, fat, WTF Fest. THE FACE. Go ahead and look at the picture again. WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE MR. BILL.

Oh nooo, Mr. Ice Cream!!

The ice cream seems to be pleading with me not to eat it. Begging for its’ pitiful little vanilla-flavored life. It’s begging me to show it mercy, for the sake of its’ weirdo wife and freako little rainbow sprinkle-covered children. I told it, “No, ice cream, you are not what I ordered and I am so angry I AM GOING TO EAT YOU IN ONE BITE” and the ice cream just looked at me like this

And I shoved the whole damn thing in my mouth making angry noises.

Why didn’t we ask for our money back, you ask? Or perhaps, what I actually ordered? Well, I was too busy reeling from the shock of the Weirdest Ice Cream Ever and my husband was laughing so hard he could barely see straight.

Needless to say, my ice cream craving was NOT satisfied that blistering summer evening and has YET to be fulfilled. I’m still trying to figure out how “one scoop of vanilla, with rainbow sprinkles, in a cup” translated into “a tiny, terrified ice cream man with googly eyes and a rainbow mohawk”. I think it’s one of those great mysteries of life that I’ll never fully understand.

This Will Make You Feel Awkward and Not Hot

So…. A few thoughts.

1. This woman looks better about to give birth than I have ever looked.
2. If I had tried to move like that at 38 weeks pregnant, I would fallen down and died.
3. If I tried to move my body like that, ever, in my entire life, I would fall down and die.
4. If I attempted to wear shoes like that and walk, let alone prance around and bust a move.. Say it with me, now: I would fall down… And die.

This lady is fierce and works it. Be jealous, girls… Be very jealous.