Alone Moments

Being alone in your house when you’re a parent is… indescribably amazing.

The silence. The stillness. Not being touched. No one’s talking or fussing. Even the mess doesn’t cry out when you’re alone.

It’s just so damn peaceful.

Today, my husband took our son out of the house for a daddy-and-son playdate for two hours and left me alone.

In the house. 

For two hours.

Neither of us is ever alone in the house.

This house is rarely silent, and it’s never still. There’s constant movement. There’s always talking or fussing. The mess is chaotic as it gets made, and cleaned up, and remade, and left for tomorrow.

The cycle isn’t terrible — but it certainly isn’t peaceful.

Unscripted alone moments are rare. Sure, when I drive to and from work, I’m alone in my car — but that’s not a moment. When I’m rushing through a seven-minute shower, I’m alone — but that’s not a moment. When I’m running errands or grocery shopping, I’m alone (with other people) — and those are not moments.

True alone moments are when you don’t have to think about what happened or what’s next or what’s happening now. When your body can take a break from doing, and your brain can take a break from considering.

Thought and action are natural during alone moments. No reason. No consequence.

Just nothing.

I showered, exfoliated, used moisturizer. I let my hair air dry. I ate apple slices with peanut butter without little bites taken out of the best parts.

how toddlers eat apple slices

Finding — and obtaining — truly alone moments as a parent feels impossible, and I can’t remember being alone for any amount of time when I felt I could allow my brain to turn off and my body to relax its tension.

And my kid is 2.

We’re both overdue, and I plan to pay that amazing man back for those two hours with two of his own.

Babies are (still) disgusting: An update

Once, I wrote about how disgusting babies were.

Newborn eye gunk? Ew.

Baby hair? Blegh!

Skin folds? *hork*

The poop? I’d take a breast milk poop over a solid food poop any day.

A year in — guess what?

Babies are still disgusting.

baby eating sweet potato
7 months > Mommy’s messy little rock star.

Just even more so.

I have more than 1,500 pictures of my son being cute — of course the number is bigger since my throwback post. I do not, however, have many pictures of my son being disgusting, which is his natural state.


Because I’m covered in or trying to contain whatever disgusting thing just happened.


Here are a few more truly disgusting things about babies that I’ve discovered since becoming a parent:

New and exciting spit up varieties

When my son was a newborn and up to about eight weeks old, he had terrible reflux — not bad enough that he needed medical attention, but just bad enough that it made him a tiny baby barf machine.

And barf he did.

A year later, he rarely spits up. But when he does, he spits up new things. Like peas.

And it’s disgusting.


Drool in quantities fit to fill an Olympic swimming pool. He wasn’t cutting teeth at 3 months old, and he wasn’t cutting teeth at 7 months old, but he drooled enough to show a mouth full of enamel.

A year later, he’s got eight teeth and slobber strings for days.

And it’s disgusting.

Dirty finger nails

If I hand something to my son, he instinctually puts it in his mouth. Obviously, if I’ve given him something, it’s safe to eat.

So he eats it. Or he tries to eat it. Lego Duplos do not a meal make.

Either way, it’s in his mouth. Along with his fingers. And so his fingernails. Drool and dirt combine under those delicate scratchers to create a thick, stinky clog of I don’t want to know what.

AND HE’S MOBILE. Toddling about. So he encounters a lot of dirt.

And it’s disgusting.

Even more toe cheese

My 3-month-old son built up nasty toe cheese from not doing anything or going anywhere.

My 7-month-old son built up nasty toe cheese from doing things and crawling places, mixing it with animal fur he picked up along the way.

A year later, nearly always sock-footed, my son builds up some stinking fuzz wads of nasty in those toes, and I will never understand it.

This does not happen to me.

This does not happen to my husband.

It only happens to the baby.

And it’s disgusting.

“Toe floaties”

Toe cheese scrubbed loose and afloat in the bathtub. Term courtesy of my husband.

Legit adult poop

We encountered a poop or two of epic proportions before my son started solid foods. Some blowouts. Some blowups.

Fairly minor.

Not one of them could have prepared us for the poop that came after his first meal of carrots.

That is a grown-up poop!

People warned me that it would get worse, but no one told me it would be a grown-up poop! That belongs in a toilet, not a diaper.

And it’s disgusting.

9 months > He tried to feed himself.

There is no escape from the nasty that is a baby, a toddler or, I expect, an adolescent. I’m certainly not looking forward to his teenager years.

I shudder at the thought.

Babies are gross, greasy, crusty little dirt monsters — and I don’t see it getting any cleaner in the foreseeable future.

My advice to you should you choose to engage in ensuring the livelihood of one of these dirty little demons: Register for bibs. Lots of bibs. You need them. It’s OK to have 3 million of them.

They won’t all make it.

Babies are disgusting, a throwback

I wrote this blog post for skinnyshae, but I have an update that requires it’s readability, so here’s a throwback.

My husband and I went out to dinner to celebrate his… well, and mine… and our anniversary since it was his birthday, and we missed my birthday due to a screaming newborn, and our anniversary wasn’t a big show because I was so hugely, uncomfortably pregnant.

So we put on our best and went out, but not before cleaning baby barf off of my dress.

baby barf

Babies are disgusting.

I have more than 200 pictures of my son being cute, but I don’t have even one picture of my son being disgusting, which is his natural state.

…usually because I’m covered in or trying to contain whatever gross thing has just happened.

Here are a few of the truly disgusting things I’ve discovered since becoming a parent (and no one warned me) about babies:

Newborn eye gunk

Babies cry. Babies cry a lot. But newborn babies cannot cry tears because their tear ducts aren’t developed fully at birth.

Super useful.

So when a baby cries, instead of tears, the tear ducts get clogged and… gunky. My son’s right eye was so gunky from clogged tear ducts, it needed to be cleaned constantly for like two weeks.

And it was disgusting.

Baby hair

Go ahead. Wash your baby’s hair. I’ll wait.

Are you done? Baby’s hair clean? New diaper, fresh onesie, clean socks?

OK, now, touch your baby’s hair.

It’s disgusting, right?!

Spit up

When my son was first born and up to about eight weeks old, he had terrible reflux. He spit up constantly.

We did everything we could think of to limit the barfing — more burping during feedings, which really just meant more barfing; less movement during and after feedings; sleeping on an incline… We even took him to the doctor to make sure nothing was wrong.

Nope! He’s totally fine — just pro at barfing.

Now, at 3 months old, he spits up less often and usually in less quantity. But, just last week, he barfed so fantastically after his morning meal, I was coated from shoulder to foot!

And it was disgusting.


Drool is new for my son. He’s not cutting teeth yet so his drool is all-on-his-own saliva production fit to fill a bathtub.

My husband and I have just succumbed to the fact that our shoulders will be forever damp… from spit up or drool.

And it’s disgusting.

Skin folds

Babies have a lot of skin, but they do not have the mass to fill the skin at birth — so they end up with folds.

Lots and lots of folds.

Neck folds, armpit folds, thigh folds… folds, folds, folds.

What happens when babies spit up?

It gets in the folds.

You think you cleaned the folds?

You didn’t clean the folds.

If you fail to wash your baby’s folds thoroughly… like three times a day, at least, yeast will grow in the folds.


In the baby folds.


And it’s disgusting.

Toe cheese

It will amaze you that a baby can get so much… gunk… in his toes for never going anywhere barefoot.

Or anywhere, at all.

You know… because babies can’t walk.

No matter! Those precious toes will collect as much gunk as a clogged tear duct whether you keep his feet in socks, shoes or saran wrap. (Do not saran wrap your baby’s feet.)

Toes are not the only victims of cheese. The crevices of your baby’s hands and in between fingers will also fill with whatever gunk he touches. Fingernails, too.

What is he touching?

I have no idea.

Can you stop it?


And it’s disgusting.


When you become a parent, you know you have to change poopy diapers.

It’s a given.

Nine times out of 10, the poopy diaper is of normal color, quantity and smell. Yes, you’ll notice different smells (which is also disgusting).

But every so often… there is a diaper that is not… normal.

This diaper is a poo-plosion.

You’ll know it when you see it.

We have lost three adorable baby onesies to poo-plosions.

And every time was disgusting.


If you’re lucky, you won’t encounter poo-pocalypse…

Wait, who am I kidding? You’re a parent. You better doomsday prep for this one…

It’s going to be disgusting.