Archive for the ‘Abigail’ Category

The Nursery – where is it now?

Posted 19 Apr 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, baby business, house stuffs, paparazzi, retail therapy

Since I posted a “Nursery” tab at the top of the this blog, I realized how much we’ve added to it since then. The biggest addition being a toddler.

Not that I had another baby, but let’s be honest – this isn’t a nursery anymore. It’s Abby’s room.

I look back at all the initial photos I posted, and they’re so organized and minimal. This is due to two reasons – one being that Abby really WAS a baby, and was not able to do anything in this room but sleep in it. The second is that – and I’ll be honest here – I was trying to impress the folks at Ohdeedoh. And it didn’t work. I still get a lot of traffic from there, but it’s mostly people checking out the paint color on the walls. (It’s Benjamin Moore’s Grey Wisp if you’re curious).

Anyway, this room has changed from my version of baby heaven to Abby’s. There’s more toys, more books, more EVERYTHING because she needs deserves everything.

view from the doorway

detail: pictures opposite dresser

changing table, glider & shelves

detail: hook under shelves

detail from top shelf: personalized crest waiting to be framed

bookshelf, crib, diaper genie (gross), mounds of toys

And a more interesting view of the same picture:

VERY interesting


So, that’s a good vision of Abby’s room today-much more lived in, more crap, still more to do, but loved so very much by a little girl and her parents.

(if you have any questions about where we got anything, just let me know and I’ll add it to the bottom of this post!)

(oh, and sorry but not really about the photo quality. the fancy camera’s batteries were dead so I was stuck with ye olde point & shoot. my bad.)

Baby Announcement Crest – Found at a gorgeous Etsy shop called Spread the Love. Melanie was awesome to work with!

The terrible 1.5’s.

Posted 12 Apr 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, baby business, motherhood, not so much

Mondays are my “Abby + Me” days, where I don’t work and she and I do whatever. I would like to say we play lots of games and do arts + crafts and it’s nothing but play dates and swing sets, but no. We usually do laundry!! and go grocery shopping!! (I add the exclamation marks because whenever I talk about doing these things with Abby, I act SUPER excited and make the oh-face (not THAT one, perv) with my eyebrows raised and gasp for joy. So now, when I mention them, SHE makes the oh-face and gasps for joy. As if they’re the greatest activities ON EARTH. She’s smart most of the time, people.)

Anyway, yesterday was no exception. We went and visited the hubs at his work so his coworkers could see that he actually DID have a child 18 months ago and those weren’t just pictures of someone else’s kid. Then we hopped back in the car and drove to the grocery store.

In the beginning it was uneventful, and quite like the normal trip to the grocery store; Abby wanting to hold everything and me attempting to keep things like bread and eggs out of her hands. I grabbed a jar of peanut butter which she immediately wanted to hold. I hand it to her – what could she possibly do? It’s plastic. She got her little hands on that jar and started pounding it on the cart, only to have it rebound up and hit her in the forehead.

Cue the red-faced silent cry that can only give way to the GIGANTIC-EXHALE-SCREAM-CRY.

I quickly calmed her and stuffed her binkie in her mouth and left that aisle as quickly as possible since everyone seemingly assumed I had just cattle-branded my daughter. (At least that’s what I would have assumed.) Little did I know that this small chain of events was enough to convert this normal trip to the grocery store to the GROCERY STORE TRIP FROM HELL. We went from zero to Damien in like, 30 seconds.

I grabbed the next item on the list, mandarin orange cups, which OF COURSE she wanted to hold. Only, I didn’t know she’d changed over into Satan spawn and as soon as I handed them to her she threw them on the floor, breaking the packaging and busting open two of the fruit cups. I whispered a quick “ABIGAIL!” under my breath and ran the leaking package back down the aisle to get a new one, when I hear the following:


(For the record, I was about 15 feet from the fruit cups. And JUST LEFT HER SIDE. And she wasn’t in the middle of the aisle. She was in the cart off to the side but far enough away so she couldn’t start tearing things off the shelf.)

I turn around and see some old bag with a cart full of rotisserie chicken and prune juice pointing at my kid and yelling in the middle of the grocery store. I grabbed a new package of mandarin oranges and walked back to my cart, glaring at the old woman. She said (loudly) “The nerve of some parents!” and then started shuffling away. So, now I have devil child giving me shit, and some random geriatric practically calling social services.

After this I try buying some meat products, Abby screams because I won’t let her hold them, and then the spitting starts. (When she’s mad, she’ll purse her lips and expel a bunch of spit, which just drips down her chin and on her clothes. Again, DAMIEN.) I mutter, “You are SO going into time-out when we get home.” In hindsight, I can see how my increasing anxiety and crabbiness only made the situation worse, but I really don’t see how I could have remembered that when in reality I could have used an exorcist for my child.

I DID remember though that this kid effing LOVES balloons. So I figure I’ll go borrow one from the floral department to keep her distracted for the rest of the trip. They didn’t have your standard mylar balloons on strings, only the miniature ones on a plastic stick. FINE. They had a Belle “princess” one – SCORE. Abby couldn’t have been more elated. She started rubbing it on her head and was happy as a clam.

I make it through the rest of the store without issue for the most part. I get to the second to last aisle, only water jugs and a 12-pack of Coke to go, and the worst thing in the history of grocery trips happens.

The balloon pops.

Abby looks at me yelling “BUUUUT! Mama! Broke! BUUUT!” (buuuut is how she says balloon), while shoving the quickly deflating balloon in my face. I look at her calmly and say “It’s broken, honey. Mama can’t fix it. It’s still pretty though!” And then Damien throws it in my face and hits me. I start muttering “serenity now” over and over again, grab my final items and think to myself I just have to check out and this will be over. Ten more minutes and this will be over.

I turn the corner to get into a checkout line and see four lanes open and they’re all about six people deep.

I bite my lip to avoid my own personal meltdown and get in line. Abby starts yelling “MAMA! UP! MAMA! WALK! DOWN! MAMA!” because she ‘s sick of being in the cart and probably wants someone else for a mom at this point. To avoid putting on another performance of the Abby Show, I let her down but ask her to hold my hand, which she does for a whopping 3 seconds before she takes off. I run after her, pick her up and bring her to the cart and she bites me. This is when the tears start welling up in my eyes because now I probably have the devil venom she so clearly is the carrier of. Also my child just bit me in front of the whole grocery store.

We finally get to the front of the line where I unload my groceries on the conveyor belt and hand the clerk the deflated and now totally mangled balloon. He says “Oh dear, what happened here?” and I tell him that my child destroyed it, but I’m glad to pay him for it. He gets all kind and says that’s not necessary, to which I reply “I will gladly pay for that thing, because the 20 minutes of silence it bought me was priceless.” I hand Abby the reciept for the groceries to keep her occupied (which she promptly threw on the floor) and we left the grocery store.

Serenity now.

**Disclaimer: My daughter is more times than not totally awesome and sweet and the greatest kid on the planet. I write this more so as a demonstration that the “Terrible Two’s” is SUCH AN EFFING LIE.

**She was back to her sweet self today.



Ground control to Major Tom…

Posted 30 Mar 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, I am awesome, paparazzi, posting on-the-go

Commencing countdown engines on…


(testing out my fancy new iPhone)

My therapist made me do it.

I bought something online.

But it was necessary.

I visited my therapist this week and unloaded on her. She agreed that the culmination of the past month’s events would be enough to send anyone over the edge, no less someone who’s very familiar with PPD/A.

Sometimes it just takes hearing it from someone else’s mouth to make it all the more easy to deal with.

I can’t control a lot of things, like when Abby gets sick, or when scary stuff happens at work. I CAN try to control other things, like how much sleep I get, or stopping myself from feeling overwhelmed.

So, we devised a plan which I later shared with the hubs about how we as a family can help me, the mama, not go off the deep end. One plan is how we handle our sleep situations when Abby’s sick (like alternating having someone sleep on the couch (and that person gets the uninterrupted sleep) every other night). Another is assigning chores and days to complete them for the house. I left her office feeling optimistic; still on-edge, but optimistic. Once I finally got enough cojones to talk to the hubs (like I said before, I have communication issues) and we discussed things, I feel better.

Immediately, I knew what I had to do.

I had to buy this:

The bamboo dry erase board by CB2. I had the remnants of the gift card left after making our combined birthday purchase of this duvet. So, after docking the $35 I had left on there, this only cost me about $35 (with shipping).

I know, I broke my month long online shopping hiatus. But I really feel like this will be SO VERY HELPFUL in our kitchen so we’re both reminded of our daily chores. If we know I’m only going to do laundry on certain days of the week, I know it should all be downstairs near the washing machine or it’s not going to get done. And if the hubs sees that it’s Sunday night and he should take care of the recycling & garbage, then I wont’ have to be a nag. Hopefully, it’ll turn our house into a well oiled machine, instead of being on OSHA’s watch list with a manic, chocolate & wine inhaling micro-manager at the helm.

Not to mention this so much prettier than those ugly white dry erase boards. Am I right? Can I get a witness?

In any case, I will not buy anything else this month. And if I don’t, I’m still $165 richer than I was last month.


And I think this weekend we’re going to finally replace the point & shoot camera I lost on the way to Mexico earlier this year. (Hence the lack of cute Abbers videos lately.) Get ready to be bombarded by the cute.

THE CROUP! Part 2, and I can’t believe it’s only been 8 days.

Posted 08 Mar 2011 — by Mrs. Jenna
Category Abigail, motherhood, retail therapy

First. THE CROUP! It’s strikes again! “But Jenna!” you exclaim, “it’s only been less than 4 weeks since she had it!” Why YES, internets, you’re correct! So, imagine my surprise when we ended up in the ER at nearly 11pm Sunday night with our Abbers and the worst stridor we’ve seen. Poor girl was so tired and feverish and couldn’t sleep because we were in a noisy ER with drunk fools and other kids with respiratory problems. Alas, they gave her an oral dose of Prednisone and after an hour of observation, we were allowed to go home. At 1am. I don’t need to tell you that her sleep schedule (and thus, her sleep training) has taken a gigantic shit. I only hope that when she’s finally feeling better (probably sometime in May when the snow has finally melted) (I’m not being sarcastic either) she’ll go to bed like a good girl again.

I will say, the difference without and now with the steriods is NIGHT AND DAY. She’s so much better this time around, though still sick with a cough & runny nose, but so much less struggling with breathing at night.

Now, the other part of my post. It’s only been eight days since I put myself in an online shopping ban and I’m going INSANE. I’m not allowing myself to look, because if I look, I will buy. The not looking is what’s so hard. Just because I’m not visiting those sites anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t see their products. Must…not…look…

I DID buy Abby a dress at Hanna Anderson this weekend at ye olde Mall of America.

(it was on sale)

But it’s been 8 days, and I haven’t bought anything yet. This is going to be a long month.