Going to the bathroom has taken on a whole new meaning over the last few weeks. Isabel has started crawling & what once was an easy and enjoyable task (close door, pull down pants, do my business, wash hands, exit bathroom) has become a juggling act. My mom has always said "Just wait! Once you have kids, you'll never go to the bathroom alone again." This always puzzled me. "Just shut the hard could it be??" was my pre-crawling baby answer. Then Isabel discovered movement, and I realized that shutting the door is actually the trick for keeping them IN while you answer the call of nature. Keeping them out is certainly not the answer, as they wreck havoc on your house in the 4.2 seconds they're on their own. Freedom!!!!

Growing up, the door to our 1st floor bathroom had a folding door made of very thin slats. My siblings and I discovered that even when mom shut the door, we could actually stick notes, drawings, old mail, magazine subscription cards, whatever we could find would go through that door to her. If I was my mother, I would have quickly ran out after the 1st kiddy love note fell & purchased a new door, but it became a joke to send mom messages while she tried to sneak away for a few minutes of non-kid sanity. Now, being a mom myself and experiencing 2 weeks of bathroom breaks with Isabel literally at my side, I think I owe my mom a HUGE apology (which won't be send to her via the bathroom door).

As you'll see from the below picture, my new view from the toilet has changed substantially. It used to be an US Weekly or my iPhone (I'm not ashamed to say it...I love reading on the toilet. Who doesn't?!). And as cute as Isabel's face is, it's just not the same as 64 magical pages of non-noise making, bathroom curtain pulling, toilet paper roll destroying celeb gossip. I'm sure one day I'll miss my time with Isabel in the bathroom as much as I now miss my non-Isabel outings, but it's hard to imagine it right now. Non-baby friends, enjoy your non-baby bathroom time. And for me, I guess I'll learn to enjoy the new view.

Bathroom with a view.




Confession time. I love McDonald's. Seriously...I reallllyyyy love McDonald's. I love it like Posh loves her 8" heels. Like Howard Stern loves his strippers. I would eat it every day if it wouldn't result in me being 400 lbs and having a massive heart attack. Plus, with Oprah going off the air, my chances of being 400 lbs AND having her save me are out the window. So, I eat healthy. Boooooooooooooo.

When I was in high school and ate a TCBY chocolate chip ice cream sandwich every day after school as my pre-practice snack, I can't really remember ever caring about calories, fat or what I ate. I was never thin (except for when I had mono, dropped 20 lbs in a hot-second & looked like a crack head for about a month), but I was also never heavy. I was average, athletic and active...straight A's, and it allowed me eat Snickers at least 3x a week, ice cream before bed & McDonald's whenever I damn well pleased. I didn't hang my head in shame when I'd order 2, yes ladies, 2 Sausage Egg McMuffin's for breakfast. I'd scarf those bad-boys down with pride and head off to school, bragging to the boys about how much I could eat. Wasn't I cool???!! Surprisingly, boys still liked me, but I think they just couldn't resist my charming personality (or the fact that I'd put out...kidding mom, KIDDING). Then college hit, and I continued my McDonald's binges, washing it all down with 9,000 calories of beer (lite, of course) a day. I'm lucky I got out of there alive and under 400 lbs (Certainly came pretty close my junior year).

I do still indulge my McDonald's lust every few months and when I go, I go BIG, like Super Size x 4 big. Another confession. When I go to McDonald's, I order so much food for myself that I've actually caught myself PRETENDING  to be ordering for 2 people!!! Dr. Phil, save me now. Back in my single NYC days, I hit up a McDonald's post-drinking and actually said outloud to myself / the cashier as I was ordering my 15 value meals "What did he tell me he wanted again???" The cashier's response should have been, ""He" wants you committed to over-eaters annoymous." Ya want another proud moment? After a 3 day bachelorette party binge, 2 friends and I, whom shall remain nameless to protect their fat-girl innocence, not only ate our hot fudge sundae "appetizers" on the walk back to our car, but also split a 30 piece nugget ON TOP of what we each ordered. How I fit into my wedding dress after that, I'll never know. And when I was pregnant, forget it! After each appointment, I'd beeline it to my local McDonald's (unbeknownst to Joe) to celebrate the baby, a strong heartbeat, only gaining 8 instead of my standard 10 lbs a month, surpassing 200 lbs. Isabel should be very proud.

The moral of this story is that girls can eat McDonald's. We act all ashamed & hide our Mickey D obsession, but it's ok to indulge our cravings. Boys still check me out, Joe still thinks I'm hot, and little do they know that I just ate 3 Quarter Pounders (with cheese). Eat your heart out, literally, and see ya at the drive-thru!

Joe ordering McDonald's for me.




I had a major "I've become my mother" moment on Friday night. Joe and I had planned a VERY hot date night at Lowe's with baby in tow. Nothing says "I want to sex you up" like an evening in the gardening section, fighting over the best color of mulch. As the week went by, Joe and I had numerous conversations about our impending Lowe's date, so in my mind, it was on the calendar, a done deal. I even put on make-up, I was that psyched for a little romance with a side of fertilizer.

To be honest, it wasn't Lowe itself that had me all hot in the pants. I was just excited to go somewhere, anywhere. Yes, we lead a very busy & active life. We travel, see our friends, and, in my personal opinion, still have a pretty solid social life for new parents. BUT, when your husband works late most nights, you work from home & you spend every evening talking to a 9 month old,  you're officially climbing the walls by Friday, excited for his bedtime help and adult conversation.

Joe obviously 1. wasn't aware of my love of Lowe's and 2. wasn't as excited as I about a night in the hardware store because he forgot and by the time he got home, Isabel was ready for bed. I lost it. You would have thought he was cheating on me. "I guess we're not going to Lowe's?!" was my 1st question to him as he walked through the door. "I wasn't aware of your love for Lowe's" was his highly sensitive response. And that is when I realized I was my mother OR any mother who just needs to get out of the house, no matter the destination.

Joe has learned his lesson...Lowe's, a sand pit, the dentist, it doesn't matter. If it gives me the chance to get out of the house & socialize with other adults, please don't break my heart by breaking our plans. Especially if I've put on make-up.




I awarded myself the mom-of-the-year award last night. It's a huge honor to accept this award on behalf of my 9  month old daughter who could have chopped her hand off after I left a very sharp knife on her highchair tray. Yes, I said I left a knife about an inch out of Isabel's reach. She just started eating finger foods, I was cutting up blueberries, and you can put the rest of the story together from here. I apparently think it's a good idea for my child, who grabs for everything within a 10 ft radius of her, to play with knives, cause what other reason would I have to put a sharp object inches from a major vein & 10 little fingers. OHHHH, I know my reason...I'M AN IDIOT & WAS TALKING ON THE PHONE AND NOT PAYING ATTENTION!! Take this as a lesson ladies, cell phones & cars don't mix & now feeding a baby & cell phones don't mix either. Maybe I'll become the next Oprah and start a "no cell phone & feeding" campaign in hopes of avoiding another bad mommy moment like this one. If I can save one child from chocking on a pencil, hair tie or screw as their dumb mother talks on the phone, I'll feel redeemed. 2 minutes after posting this blog, I expect a knock on the door from DYFS, who'll probably take my child & Martha Stewart, who'll definitely take my sharp knives (and tell me to remodel my kitchen). Wish me luck.

I Googled "baby holding a knife" and got "Bieber holding a knife" instead. Pretty much the same thing.




We took our 1st real "vacation" with Isabel in early April. Joe and I have always said, both pre & post baby, that our goal is to be that couple that travels with kids. Fortunately, we were blessed with an easy going child,  happily amused by a squeaking rubber giraffe & food. We also have become smart in our old age & took her pre-crawling, so carting around a baby with limited range of motion also added to our ease of travel. Otherwise, we'd probably still be sitting in Jersey, watching the travel channel in our bathing suits, drinking pre-mixed margaritas & remembering the glory days when we use to leave the house.

We decided on Turks & Caicos for multiple reasons. It's a relatively quick flight from NYC, so if Isabel really lost her shit on the plane, we'd suffer for under 4 hours. Manageable for us...not so much for the plane full of haters. We'd heard great things about Turk's restaurants & beaches, so that sold us too. And, as we discovered once we got there, apparantly every person vacationing in Turks & Caicos must be from NJ or NY, so it was our destiny. We were also deteremined to NOT be those people who rolled into a luxurious hotel with their screaming baby in tow while everyone else (minus screaming kids) tried to relax, so after a few recos from friends, we booked a family-friendly hotel & off we went!

Isabel was amazing on the flight to & from Turks. She was her cute, charming self, playing peek-a-boo with anyone who would look her way & coughing if someone didn't pay attention to her. I'm not sure where she gets this need to be the center of attention from??? My advice to new parents traveling with a baby for the 1st time...ask other seasoned parents for their best tips. My friend Cher learned to always book the window & aisle seat in hopes that the middle seat stayed empty. BINGO! We had a "free" seat for Isabel on both flights. I also packed a carry-on bag with her food, diapers & formula for the week, to avoid having Isabel's most important items sent to Tokyo instead of Turks & Caicos. My other advice...only conceive babies with strong men. Joe has big muscles & a big heart so he was willing to schlep around 432 bags like a pack mule for most of the week. He's also an amazing cabana boy / drink getter for anyone hoping to rent him for their next trip. Dad's rule!

Our vacation was amazing...warm weather, great food, nice accommodations, I actually read one whole book & a People Magazine, and we got some much needed wife/husband time too. Surprise...we do still like each other! Isabel also enjoyed her 1st tropical getaway, experiencing lots of other firsts in Turks too, such as first time on a plane, in a pool, in the ocean, in sand, eating sand, in a bathing suit (about 10 different ones throughout the week) and in a hotel. She also learned to go from her belly to sitting up, received her 1st passport stamp AND peed on Joe's leg while we sat at our hotel bar one night. That's the most important first cause, as I explained to the bar on our way out, "Well, if she takes after me, it won't be the last time she pees herself in a bar." The Agosto's always pack their class wherever we might be.

Have no fear 1st time parents, babies can travel, parents can still drink while they travel & you'll actually want to come home & get back to your routine by the end of the vacation. It's a win/win for everyone! Oh, and also don't leave formula anywhere that normal people would put it while in a tropical location (aka, a kitchen cupboard). Carribbean bugs really love Similiac, particularly the Costco supersized tub. Happy trails!

Ready to cry for the whole flight

Does this swim diaper make my legs look big?

Sand diet

Someone got carded & isn't impressed

Pee happens.

My. Mom. Is. Crazy.

The happy Agostos

Picture perfect!


Nanny Poopins

Everyone is well aware of how in love I was (was being the key word here) with our new nanny just a few short months ago. She was my savior! She washed our clothes, scrubbed our floors, loved our child unconditionally and every day with her was like Christmas morning.  Flash forward to now and the cleaning has stopped, the love is gone & suddenly our nanny has made it very clear that she respects Joe, she loves Isabel, and she dislikes everything about me. Last week she went as far as telling us "I guess you don't love Isabel as much as I do." Interesting statement...apparently Nanny Poopins pushed Isabel out of her vagina and not me. Who knew?!

I don't think it's one particular event that made her dislike us, or really, dislike me. From what I'm learning from other mothers, this is typical of many nannies. They kill you with kindness, make you fall in love, & when they know they've got ya, they take you for all your worth. Nanny Poopins worked for / lived with her last family for 20 years & became the "mother" of the house after the real mother passed away when the children were very young. So to her, I'm the other woman, the competition, and Nanny Poopins is having a difficult time not being the boss. At the end of the day, she really does love Isabel and is amazing with her, but at what point does her disrespecting us become more important than her taking good care of Isabel? We buy her and her daughter gifts, I say "thank you" even when she farts, I literally would run like a lunatic, pushing and shoving people out of the way to make my bus every night, all so that she wouldn't miss her bus as well. But to her, it's not enough.

We've remained in this unhealthy relationship with her because in the end, we need her more than she needs us. Don't I sound like a pathetic girl trying to win some guys affection?? That's completely how I feel with her. I'm always trying to impress her with my awesome mommy-skills, constantly trying to make her like me (and she's flat out told us "I'm here for Isabel, not you."), I spend my day kissing her rear-end, really hoping we'll fall back in love (aka...she'll start doing our laundry again). I'm in an abusive nanny relationship, and I think it's time to cut the umbilical cord.

Maybe I'm just not a nanny person. Maybe I just dislike having another woman in my house. Or maybe it isn't me & maybe this woman really is just a little crazy. Maybe I'm sick of defending myself when it comes to how we're raising Isabel or tired of tip-toeing around in my own house. Whatever the case may be, I may soon be on the hunt for a 3rd nanny. Isabel is 9 months old and is going through nannies faster than Elizabeth Taylor went through husbands. Her first words might be "who's that?" as another woman walks through our front door. Joe and I are learning a lot about what does & doesn't work, so we're guessing that by the time Isabel is ready to leave for college, we'll have found our perfect match. Whatever the case may be, I realized that I should have kept my big, fat, bragging mouth shut cause my Nanny Poppins has turned out to be a nanny-dud. As they say in the fairy tales, ya gotta kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince...pucker up!


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