Mom Badge

A blog about earning your mom stripes, one blow out diaper at a time.

Category: toddlers

The two weeks where life tried to take me out

July 10, 2017 / / 0 Comments

Now that I’ve 70% recovered, I feel I can finally talk about how life tried to end me two weekends ago. I thought for the longest time that my plane flight from hell was one of the worst experiences I had been through with a kid. But it was just a little warm up for the monumental cluster that was the last two weeks of June.

It all started when I went back to work right before our largest event of the year. Honestly that was rough, but after the mental onslaught of the first day, I started to get my bearings and felt like I could take on whatever the job threw at me. What I didn’t take into account is what the REST of my life was planning to throw at me. First up; the toddler birthday party.

I kind of made the mistake of doing a really good job with his 2nd birthday party, so I felt the need to one up myself just because that’s the competitive type of person I am. So for birthday #3, Elliott got the dino-mite treatment. A dinosaur bounce house, fossil dig and BBQ. Truly, just one of those three things would have made me exhausted for weeks, but I did all three. The only way I pulled it off was because Teeny was in town. All in all, things went well. But I have to say, a bouncy house is like a toddler Thunderdome. Thankfully, the only one who came out bloody was my own child.

The look on his face when he saw the bouncy house was totally worth it.

Since Benji refused to be left out of the celebration, he decided that he would roll over for the first time on the morning of E’s party. And anyone who has had a baby knows what this means. NO ONE SLEEPS. I mean, we just got a rad new skill, so let’s practice it all day and night, right? So, the night after the toddler party when I all I wanted was a few hours of shut eye, I pretty much got none. Woof.

Then no less than a day later, sickness swept through the Hubner household. And it took EVERYONE out. Baby, brother, mommy, daddy — even poor, visiting Teeny. So, remember that part about not sleeping because of baby’s big milestone? Let’s just add some more sleep deprivation on top of it for a big you’re-never-sleeping-again sandwich. Because I was either up with a snotty, coughing baby or couldn’t sleep because every time my head hit the pillow my lungs and throat started to explode.

Benji enjoyed the party. He also was worn out from all that rolling over.

By the time Monday after the party rolled around, I was toast. I think it was that evening that I had a full on mommy meltdown. I literally collapsed in the middle of our hallway, rolled up into a ball, and cried my eyes out. But you know what? Life wasn’t done throwing garbage my way yet.

By Tuesday morning, I had lost my voice completely. Before work’s biggest event of the year. The event where I was going to be responsible for talking to media, on camera and on radio, over and over and over again. And what topic did they choose to focus on? A totally serious one — where I had to have my ish together or else I might do something detrimental to my organization. So what did I do? I gargled salt water, drank gross tea, sprayed myself down with Chloroseptic, and prayed I wouldn’t screw it up. Then I drug my exhausted, voiceless ass to no less than nine interviews. By the end, I could talk about security and cosplay prop policies with my eyes closed. Which honestly, is all I wanted to do.

Then came the con. Last year was my first experience at a comic convention, and needless to say the energy that comes from simply being in the same space as over 100,000 people is beyond exhausting. Add illness, an infant and being mired in the social media comment swamp for three days straight, and by the time Sunday rolled around I could barely move.

Superman took on the dark side at the con.

The good news is, I’m on the other side. The other good news is I never plan to do that again. At least Superman-Maui-Skywalker had a good time.

Flying with baby(s)

June 14, 2017 / / 0 Comments

I started this blog with a post about flying solo with my 2 month old. And now, as if life has come full circle, I’m going to relaunch Mom Badge with a post about flying solo with my 2 month old — and 2.5 year old.

You might say I’m crazy for attempting such a daring feat after the tragedy that was my first solo flight with a kid. But honestly, the shit (literally and figuratively) that’s been thrown my way since that day makes that flight seem like a cake walk. But if I were to say I wasn’t completely nervous and overwhelmed at the thought of having a toddler and an infant by myself in a confined space full of other adults for 2 hours and 20 minutes, I’d be lying. Not to mention the mental load and strategy involved in hauling not only my human cargo, but all the junk that comes with them. I mean because we can’t get on a plane without our spiky backpack, Apatosaurus, Maui doll, water painting, headphones, etc., right? Not to mention the diapers, wipes, snacks, sippy cups and changes of clothes that are just your standard “we’re leaving the house” packing. Thankfully, I had a couple of weeks to think about it (which I did), so on flight day, my mind was fortified and my plan complete.

Totally worth the trip.

So, how did I do it you ask? I’M SO GLAD YOU DID. I would be heartbroken if all my work went unnoticed. Ok, first I brought a stroller. Typically, if I had Peter with me, I’d leave that piece of garbage at home. But being alone, I needed it for two reasons: 1. Toddler containment. 2. Junk hauling (see list of stuffed animals and toys above). The baby I just strapped to my body in the Ergo so I could have two hands. Because those were needed for pushing the stroller with one, pulling the rolling luggage with the other. Once I got through the full service line, because obviously I need to prove with a copy of his birth certificate that Benji is under two years old (insert eye roll here), things got monumentally easier.

The next secret to success is TSA Pre. It took like 15 minutes as some office in the middle of nowhere to get it, and it’s been completely worth it. Everyone gets to keep their shoes and jackets on, and the line is about 1,000 times shorter. Not to mention they don’t swab my hands because I’m baby wearing.

Now, the tricky part. Occupying a toddler for 2 hours and 20 minutes on an airplane. All I can say is, God bless technology. And a huge thank you to my son for being obsessed with movies, specifically Moana. I just plugged him right in, threw a bunch of sugary snacks his way, and had zero regrets. The baby? Easy. Milk, bouncing and a human mattress. Which to anyone else sounds like that scene from Anchorman where Will Ferrell is stumbling down the street saying, “milk was a bad choice,” but for Benji, it works like a charm. Couple that with the plane noise, and he took one of the best naps he’s had in weeks. I need a jet engine near his rock and play, apparently.

Anyway, after I had both boys set up, I spent the rest of the flight praying for things to stay exactly the same and trying to stretch my wrist that most definitely has carpal tunnel from all the baby holding. And guess what? IT TOTALLY DID. The flight was on time, there wasn’t turbulence, and the boys were angels. The only tantrum thrown was when we had to get off the plane and mommy turned off Octonauts (I’m a terrible person, I know). But considering the number of horrible scenarios that I played out in my mind for weeks beforehand, I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. I’m not saying I’ll do it again anytime soon, but for now I can say that I did, and I felt like a total badass afterwards.

Snacks. Always bring snacks.

 

See A Sky

July 8, 2016 / / 0 Comments

It’s 7 o’clock. Peter is putting things away in the shed. I’m trying to convince a “not tired” two year old to come in the house, but the makeshift sandbox in the backyard is like his Call of the Wild. Tired and frustrated, I storm across the yard.

“Elliott, it’s time to go inside,” I say.

“No inside. Play a sand,” I hear in return. And so it begins.

“No, buddy. It’s time to go inside. You’ve played in the sand enough,” I say. Secretly, all I’m thinking about is how I hope he’s clean enough to where I can just dust him off and avoid a bath, because at this point, I’m exhausted. The last thing I want to do is bath time. As I’m standing there silently calculating my evening, I hear something.

“I lie down.”

No. NO. Nooooo. Just like that his hair is full of sand, sticks, and crusty old flowers. My plans of just dusting, no bath are going out the window. I’m about to reach down and yank him out of the sandbox when, staring up at the sky, he starts talking again.

“Oooo, pretty trees. So many weeves. Ah-yet see a sky. A cloud in it.”

I stop and look up. He’s right. The trees are beautiful, full of green summer leaves, the evening light shining through them in shades of orange and yellow. They’re set on a perfect backdrop of blue sky, just a single white cloud floating in it. I look back at his little face, sticky and sandy, mesmerized by the show that nature has put on just for him. For a single moment in his otherwise wild and crazy day, he’s peaceful. Still. Happy.

I let him keep his head in the dirt, and I sit next to him. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve done it, but I spend the next few minutes quietly looking at the sky. Then, just like that, he’s up and racing around the yard again. But for a moment, we both stopped and were silent. And for a moment, I was reminded of the beauty of summer evenings, courtesy of my tiny wild man.

Ok, not the evening I reference. But it's my boy in nature, which is close enough.

Ok, not the evening I reference. But it’s my boy in nature, which is close enough.

 

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