Hello I'am Meggan Welcome to my website.
So Long Mr. Meggan
![wolfman[1]](http://meggansamom.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/wolfman12.jpg "wolfman[1]")
Before
After
It’s no secret to Moms that after you have kids the personal grooming takes a back seat…in the trunk. The days of mani/pedis, three hour hair appointments, and professional facials are a distant and faint memory. My hair is now colored from a box, the place that cuts my hair also cuts my baby’s hair all for under $20.00 (and I have my son sitting in my lap for BOTH our hair cuts), and a facial consists of grinding up and mixing with yogurt whatever fruit we have left over from breakfast and smearing it on my face.
I didn’t know how far I had let it all slip though until I went in for a mani-pedi with my husband while on vacation. We had childcare and decided to treat ourselves to a little pampering at the local Vietnamese Walk-in Beautiful Nail Salon.
One thing you have to realize about Vietnamese nail salons is that they are very direct…always. No time for foolery when beautifaction and money making is in progress. “You pick color” and then you sit your ass down.
While “Susan” was filing and trimming away on my beat up dish pan hands working her $11.00 manicure magic I noticed her looking directly at me, but through me at the same time. I smiled back. That’s when Susan asked…
“Do you want me to help you look pretty?”
Normally for me to look pretty the person I am with has to start drinking. Curious if she was going to start serving herself Cosmos I replied, “what do you have in mind?”
“I do waxing.”
“Oh, do I need to get my upper lip waxed.?”
“No, you need wax your WHOLE FACE.”
WTF!! MY WHOLE FACE!! What was I, a werewoman? I burst out laughing. I had never even heard of a whole face wax. Probably why I was so fuzzy. After a few more assurances from Susan that I really was a hairy beast, I was in. As my husband blissfully snoozed away in the pedicure chair, Susan lead me away to her waxing chamber.
While Susan’s daughter sat next to me in the back waxing room reading a book about robotic cats (no joke) Susan waxed and waxed and waxed my face. Each time she would yank a strip of wax off my face the size of a paper towel she would proudly show me the strip and announce,
“see I no lie, you have a lot of hair…I help you look pretty.”
OK, I get it. I get it. I am a weremommy. My neighbors should stay away from me on full moons and if they have chickens keep them inside. Susan left no hair on my face except two thin strips of eyebrows. I was smooth like a sheared lamb from the top of my eyebrows to my collar bone….and my face was fire red and glistening from the cooling lotion.
I looked like a shiny vine ripe tomato that had been covered in aloe gel.
I emerged from the waxing room and met my husband by the front door to pay. When he saw me he had the strangest look of confusion on his face.
What just happened? When he last saw me he was in the pedicure chair getting his nails filed and feet massaged by two beautiful Vietnamese woman. He fell asleep only to wake up alone to a wife that now looked like produce.
“She waxed my face,” was all I could mutter.
My husband, long accustomed to my adventures, paid the bill, tipped Susan and as we were leaving politely said,
“Thank you for getting rid of her beard.”
I would of burst out laughing again, except I couldn’t move my hairless face.
UPDATE: Hairy face has left the building. Tomato face has healed. Say hello to baby butt smooth face. I love it.
NOTE: Photo on the left is from the film The Wolf Man circa 1941
I Need To Apologize To My Spine
After riding The Colossus...a colossal need for a chiropractor
The six of us: The kids, Tweety Bird, me...and my bra strap and sunburn
It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Take my stepsons, Harrison, Reilly, and Reilly’s friend Kyle, to Six Flags at Magic Mountain and ride the roller coasters with them. I used to be quite the little roller coaster bad ass and I figured I could bond with the boys while traveling 100 m.p.h. in 3 seconds while strapped into a steel cage.
Never was I so wrong! It was horrifying, terrifying, body jarring madness. Plus, if I wanted to hear screaming and randomly smell puke all day I could of stayed home.
The rides at the park had names like The Vortex, Batman, The Riddler’s Revenge, Tatsu.
Those rides should of been called:
The Spine Eater
The Pre-Mature Ager from Intense Fear
The Ass Clencher a.k.a. The Constipator
The You Are No Longer 21
The Bitch You Are Crazy and Too Old To Be On This Ride, Sit Your Ass Down With A Nice Book And Quit Torturing Yourself (I rode that one twice)
The boys on the other hand LOVED it. They were determined to ride the rides for twelve hours (from open to close) and that is exactly what they did. They were unphased through intense heat, hair ruining rides that soaked us in water from head to toe, rides that defied sanity and gravity. When Kyle got nauseous and threw up after Batman and Reilly blacked out after Golliath the boys literally took a five minute break to “shake it off” only to get back on those roller coaster horses and ride again.
Meanwhile my ankles swelled (see photo above), my skin crisped in the sun, my bra straps gave up the valiant fight of maintaining dignity, and my body begged to not travel at speeds over 55 m.p.h. along rails of track.
In the end though, we did bond. There were super yummy iced lemonades and churros, we all got fake tattoos, took turns on the Oxygen Bar and decided we got ripped off by flavored air and the next day we still can’t stop talking about our trip.
Next time we go to a theme park though, it is my turn to pick…here we come…Nap World.
The Best Ever
Lucas goes to a wonderful daycare a few days a week. He loves it and I love six hours in a row of only having to wipe one butt in this household. I was talking to another Mother outside the daycare who’s son Parker also attends a few days a week. This Mother gave me her business card, and I noticed she was a lawyer.
Me: “Oh, wow you are a lawyer?”
Lawyer Mom: “Yeah, sure. No big deal these days.”
Me: “Do you not like being a lawyer?”
Lawyer Mom: “Oh no, it’s fine. It just doesn’t mean the same to me anymore.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
Lawyer Mom: “More than the title of lawyer I like the title of Parker’s Mom. I love to hear the kids call me Parker’s Mom. Like when they call out Parker’s Mom is here…It’s the BEST title in the world.”
Now I love a good title and there are some FANTASTIC ones out there I would wear without shame…Supermodel, Super Lotto Winner, Mrs. Clooney…but all pale in comparsion to the title I actually have and one I would never give up or trade for anything in the world. .
Lucas’ Mom.
Parker’s Mom was absolutely right.
Farewell Sweet Friend
Time to say goodbye to a trustworthy and loyal companion. A friend who has been there for me for 18 months (since Lucas was born) and was by my side though unshowered days, post birth vagina surgery (twice), muddled speech, monobrows, unexplained tears of frustration, tears of hormones and tears of heart bursting love. This friend got me out of sticky social situations, helped explain to others why I felt so crazy all the time, and was there for me at a moments notice. It has been almost 18 months though since I first delivered my son and needed this friend. I have begun to use my friend as a crutch and that it not good. So I must say goodbye.
Goodbye to my friend, the phrase, “I just had a baby.”
When I would venture out in public looking three different kinds of wrong and people would cast concerned stares I would just call on my friend and reply,
“I just had a baby.”
When I would stumble into the nail salon and hoist my feet up for a pedicure and reveal legs so hairy that if they caught fire I would need a burn permit, I didn’t sulk in shame. No, I just leaned on my faithful verbal companion and said,
“I just had a baby.”
After giving birth to Lucas and having my vagina look like I dove vagina first into a food processor, sitting was IMPOSSIBLE for quite awhile. When it made others uncomfortable that I stood still like an oak tree in the living room my linguistic lover was by my side waiting to be called on as I muttered,
“I just had a baby.”
I was never alone, with “I just had a baby.” This was especially helpful in the drug store when I would slink in after 10:00 p.m. and purchase fiber pills, stool softener, prune juice, Tuck’s medicated pads, Epsom salts…and the latest issue of Oprah magazine. I knew the cashier must be thinking, “what is wrong with this girl’s diet!? All questions were washed away when I looked the cashier straight in the eye and replied,
“I just had a baby.”
Those were the good old days with my wonderful friend. It is now 18 months later and I keep telling others, “I just had a baby.” Time to get it together Meggan. The other day I was looking particularly homeless worn out. Some customers at our bakery asked if I was tired. That was my clue and I immediately whipped out my clutch phrase, “I just had a baby.” Their confused faces said it all as I stood there holding a very large toddler that was no where near “just” being born. In an instant I realized I was out of excuses, now I am just an exhausted Mother in it for the long haul who never sleeps, is covered in food, is drowning in laundry, is gripped in the throws of crushing anxiety and worry, and desperately could use a long shower.
I will miss ”I just had a baby.” Time to say goodbye. I can think of only one solution to bring back my dear friend.
Maybe I’ll get pregnant again.
Trying To Fly The Friendly Skies
“I can’t stand to fly, I’m not that naive, men weren’t meant to ride with clouds between their knees” – Lyrics from Superman by Five For Fighting
I HATE FLYING! Hate it, hate it, hate it. There I said it, I am terrified to fly. No sugar coating that one. Ettore and I just got back from a quick flight to and from Los Angeles for a friend’s wedding. The total flight each way is one hour and ten minutes. For me, that is one hour and ten minutes too long. When we landed I felt like I should have some kind of awards ceremony.
“Meggan DID IT! Hoorah!! She is a hero…and very brave…She flew Southwest Airlines for over an hour!!”
This completely rational irrational fear has caused some major bumps in my life. When I was a television reporter I spent roughly six months in the news helicopter reporting and videotaping traffic and breaking news from the sky. It was a thrilling experience…except the fact that I was terrified and every day when I went to work I thought I was going to die! I needed a job, so I mentioned nothing to the station and cried every morning in between my live hits and quite often broke out in hives. I WAS A HOT MESS. The fear of flying got so bad that eventually Ettore had to drive my fragile psyche to the helicopter pad because I couldn’t keep it together in the car on the way to the airport. I have shed tears in the skies all over Northern California.
Ettore on the other hand is NOT afraid of flying and can sleep through turbulence like a baby. Something I find maddening. Nothing scares that man, (except the thought of having more children). Truth, when we are flying and Ettore is reading or worse, sleeping, I get pissed. How can he be so relaxed when we are OBVIOUSLY going to die!! Ettore sits there snoring and I am crying, rocking back and forth, sucking my own thumb, and slowly pulling out bits of my own hair. I want to lean over and whisper in his ear…”I am pregnant…with TWINS…ha ha ha ha. You want to see a grown man freak out. We would both be begging for Jesus to save us at 40,000 feet.
Motherhood has changed all of this. Since becoming a Mom and a Step-mom I have literally had to “ball up” and put my big girl panties on. I am working really hard with Therapist Richard to overcome my fear of flying. I don’t want the boys to take on my fear as their own and I really want to set a good example. I want my boys to know we all have fears in life, but you face fear with dignity, strength, and courage and try not to let fear stand in the way of your dreams. And if by chance, dignity, strength, and courage don’t work for you then Xanax and large amounts of alcohol generally does the trick.
I SOOO Married A Chef…
Moooo
Ettore and I recently celebrated our third wedding anniversary. I asked Ettore if he still liked being married to me.
Big mistake.
Me: “Ettore, we have been married three years. Can you believe it? AMAZING.”
Ettore: “Yep.”
Me: “Three years! That’s a long time. Do you still like being married to me now as much as you did when we first got married?”
Ettore: “Well, It’s different now.”
Me: “What do you mean?”
Ettore: “Well, when I first married you, you were like a lean beautiful filet mignon.”
Me: “Ummm…”
Ettore: “Now you are like a good aged steak with a lot of marbling.”
Me: “Ummm…WHAT?!”
Ettore: “Man cannot have filet everyday. You need a marbled steak.”
Me: “Are you saying I’m fat?”
Ettore: “No no. Marbling increases the flavor. Aging develops the steak. I appreciate your flavors more now. Filet everyday is boring.”
Me: “Uh-huh. Sigh. Happy third anniversary.”
Ettore: “You too sweetheart. I love you. Where do you want to go to dinner?”
Me: “I’m not hungry.”
Almost Ready To Deliver
I feel like waiting for my new website is like waiting to deliver a baby (hopefully without all the vaginal tearing). I am so close to launching my new baby (website) out into the world. My feet are in the stirrups, I am dilated, the design team tells me any day now. Unike the OB/GYN though, the design team doesn’t have to stick their hand up inside my vagina halfway to my esophagus to let me know I am about ready. A simple email is all it takes.
Like any new Mother of a baby/website I am nervous, hopeful, and insanely proud. I hope I can do it. The anticipation is killing me. Even my Mother is excited for my new baby. Will people like the new site? What if no one does? Can I handle people rejecting my precious baby? How will I learn the new technology. This website is an extension of me, just like a child. I know my new website will have bumps in the road, just as I know Lucas and the boys will have bumps in life. My job is to take it all in stride, stay calm, and not hit delete.
So here I wait, waiting to push and deliver the all new www.meggansamom.com Waiting to get the all clear…ten fingers…ten toes…a new life waiting to unfold…one post at a time.
A Change Is A Comin’
Hello All!! Exciting news at meggansamom.com MY NEW WEBSITE IS ALMOST READY!!! It is CRAZY good and I hope you all like it. meggansamom.com is expanding and growing. Finally something growing besides my butt. I have hired a great design team, Zest Studios, and I will be inveiling my new logo, stationary, and website in the very new future. The Style Page and Kitchen Page will also be activated and we will be adding a video component as well. In fact, I tape my first segment this Thursday! Hopefully the new site will be a new day here providing laughs, photos, style, the latest in exercise, and great recipes. It has been a lot of work, but I think it is worth the time and $$$. A place where Moms can get information and fun daily…now if I could only get Brad Pitt.
Dear Sleep,
COME BACK!! I’M SORRY!! Was it something I said? I take it all back. I take it back that I said after the baby was born that I won’t need that much of you. I’m sorry I said that a lot of you is overrated and I could handle the baby and have less of you. I was wrong, VERY WRONG! I NEED YOU…AND I WANT YOU BACK.
Remember the good times, before the baby? I do. We were together all the time. I got to be with you at least eight hours in a row every night. It seemed I could have you any time I wanted; in the car, on a plane, on the couch in the middle of the day, even in class during school. No problem, all I had to do was put my head down on my desk, close my eyes and you were right there. We had a beautiful relationship. Something special.
Now it is all different. Sleep, I feel you are pulling away from me and there is distance between us. Since the baby was born, I only see you in short spurts every night for months on end. Sleep, I have enough love to go around. There is enough for you AND the baby. Can we work it out? How about we start slow. Five hours in a row, together, you and me, each night. If that goes well then maybe we can get together on the couch for an hour or so in the afternoon when the baby naps. They say I am supposed to have you when the baby sleeps. So far though you are no where to be found when the baby is napping. The only thing I find is the dishes. What do you think? Can we reconnect? I MISS YOU SLEEP!!!
Call me.
Love,
Meggan
The Apple (Finally) Didn’t Fall Far From The Tree
Hallelujah, evidence Lucas is actually related to me. Carrying him in my body for 41 weeks, blood tests, and witnessing him emerge from my vagina was not quite enough evidence for me to prove Lucas was actually mine, I needed more proof.
You see, Lucas looks nothing like me. To me Lucas doesn’t look like my husband either, but that is a post for another day. According to the masses though, Lucas looks just like Ettore and my step-son Reilly. Lucas looks so little like me, that if men could get pregnant and carry a child, I might insist that Ettore had a secret affair, and then when HE delivered and had HIS vagina shredded like pulled pork tell HIM that birth was just pushing and “some pressure”. Just saying. Sorry, daydream. Back to how Lucas doesn’t look like me.
Lucas looks like he is not related to me. That was until tonight, when we went to dinner at a steakhouse.
The complete extent of my DNA in my child came pouring out.
When the food arrived…my son did a dance.
MY BOY! Evidence my genetic line has been passed on to my son! When food arrives, whether it be Subway or the latest five star restaurant I am overcome with happiness and the desire to do a little jig. I often sing the name of the food I am about to eat as well. Corn Beef makes me particulary melodious, and I channel my inner Whitney Houston ever time goat cheese hits the table. Lucas is a chip off the old block (of cheese). Tonight when his Jr. Steak was delivered we both started rocking and rolling. No DNA test required now, ever time we eat together I will know Lucas is my son…whether or not he has my eyes.
meggansamom.com © 2009 Designed & developed by: ZestStudios