My Husband Going Grocery Shopping With the Baby vs. Me

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It blows my mind how my husband can go to the store or anywhere with Bradley and  ‘women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano’ to him. Seriously though… it’s like women can smell ‘daddy’ or ‘husband material’ radiating off him.  (It also doesn’t hurt that he is buff and looks pretty good in his tight T’s ;)

He always says, “They were just being nice. It’s not like they were hitting on me…” And I’m left thinking about how blind and naive men can be.

I go out with my baby and I literally repel men… they run in the other direction. You would think I was radiating ‘be my baby’s daddy’ or ‘marry me on the third date’ . Unlike my husband’s experiences, I would never have a man come up to me, being nice, and say, “Oh …she’s cute. How old is she? What’s her name? blah blah blah.” I don’t need a man to hit on me to feel good about myself, but it never sucks to feel hot.

Update on my grocery getting experiences… We are in Germany. Very rarely does anyone even look at you and nod, much less actually stop say Hi and make small talk. (It just isn’t the German way, I guess.) My husband comes home from the grocery store with our daughter and tells me about how everyone at the market was telling her how cute she was and just loving on her. I’m thinking WTF?! I can’t get someone to smile at me even when I look them in the eyes and smile at them!

I always assumed most women were like me in that when I saw a man with a baby I just saw baggage (No Thank You) I have been proven wrong. Women love man with baby.

Bradley Is One!

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Our little girl is One!! I can not believe just a short year ago I was in writhing pain and so sad because all I wanted to do was be able to hold, snuggle and love on my little girl. I have definitely made up for those first few days with hours and hours of loving on my little angel. While I couldn’t keep my Sim babies alive to save my life I am doing a pretty awesome job with this one!!

So This Shit Happened

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It’s a good thing I enjoy cleaning because the job is never ending. If it isn’t dinner all over the floor, it’s her new interest that involves taking everything from where it belongs and spreading it all over the floor. On the plus side Bradley is learning to feed herself!

 

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So this shit happened the other day. Definitely something I never thought I would see or have to clean. Note that she wasn’t crying the entire time. She was actually having a grand ole time playing in her poo and when I walked in she showed me the poop on her hands like it was a play toy.  Not until I yelled, “Oh My….Shit!” and slightly panicked did she start crying.

“It happens…” “What? Shit” “Sometimes…” -Forrest Gump

 

Hating Pregnancy? That’s Fine, You Can Still Be An Awesome Mom! Part I

Part One…

As I sit here blogging, watching Real Housewives and face masking (being pretty basic) I am wondering why every year as soon as I get to Germany my face goes to shit. I can not figure it out. I have Never had more than one small pimple at a time. Germany does something to me, it got me thinking about how awesome my skin and hair was during my pregnancy (even when I was in Germany). They rocked! My skin and hair were on point. That then got me thinking about how awful almost everything else about pregnancy was. I KNOW there are other women out there feeling the way I did. I’m here to tell you you are not alone in hating pregnancy, you are not a bad person and it absolutely does not mean you are going to be a bad mom.  We will start after conception, because conception was awesome.

Exhaustion. Before I had even missed my period I knew something was up. The ridiculous fatigue and absolutely drained tiredness I was experiencing was not normal. After two days of this, despite drinking 2-3 coffees and a red bull a day, I went and got the test. Well… I was right and I was preggy.  The first three months of my pregnancy were a blur. I slept 70 percent of the time. I would sleep till 10:30 or so, eat lunch when Travis got home from practice, take a nap with him, eat dinner, then go to sleep about 9:30. Needless to say I wasn’t real productive. I don’t know how women with toddlers or jobs can do it. Hats off to you because you women are amazing!

Itching. My skin itched like no other. Starting about week 2 to week 14 nothing helped the itching. I lotioned, I took oatmeal baths, I used coconut oil… Nothing worked.  I remember itching so bad one night I had to take my shirt off and asked my husband to scratch my back while I scratched my front… he quickly went from my back to my boobs (because they were huge) where I almost immediately started throwing a crying fit because I didn’t want him feeling my boobs and trying to have sex with me. I knew I was being ridiculous I just couldn’t stop myself.
Crying. That crying fit story directly relates with my next reason I didn’t love (hated) pregnancy…. the crying. I am not a crier. I don’t see a point in it. It doesn’t get things accomplished,  it doesn’t make anything better, and for me, personally, I don’t like to show an overwhelming amount of emotion. (I’m sure I’ll get shit from those emotional women, because I have before in the past, telling me, “Showing emotion is okay. It’s not embarrassing. You should grow up.”  To those women I say, “Don’t waste your time, I’m not changing.”) However, when I was pregnant you would have thought I was  Robin from Sister Wives. (Not the sharing my husband part of Robin. If some woman touches my husband shit is gonna go down.) The Robin that cries over EVERYTHING!! Happy, sad, stressed, sentimental, anxious… crying for it all. I was an emotional wreck and I hated it.

Having to Lie about Loving Pregnancy. For the first part of my pregnancy when people would ask me about how the pregnancy was going I’d always say, “It’s going good.” They would then usually follow-up with, “Don’t you just love it?” I don’t know why it took me so long to start telling the truth and stop feeling bad about not loving it. I hate lying. It makes me feel so two-faced and I hate two-faced people. (People seem to either love you or hate you when you are truthful. This blog is a perfect example, people either love it or hate it.) So when I finally started telling the truth about how I hated it I learned A LOT of women felt the same way I did and didn’t like being pregnant. It was a relief to know I wasn’t alone and wasn’t going to be a bad mom just because I hated being pregnant.

Getting Fat. The absolute worst part of pregnancy. Around 3 months my clothes stopped fitting and not in that look at my cute preggy belly kind of way, but in that freshman 15, can’t quite get my pants buttoned, jiggly fat, boobs popping out kind of way.  My thighs were starting to rub together and I was constantly pulling my pants from my crotch. Cellulite was forming on the back of my legs…It. Was. Horrifying. My husband would continuously  tell me, “Kasey, you are beautiful. You aren’t fat, you’re pregnant.” I would usually follow-up with a less than nice response about how he was f-ing lying and then I would cry..(Gosh, I hate the crying.) It would be easy to say you aren’t fat, you’re pregnant when you aren’t the one getting fat.
Doctor Telling Me I Was Gaining Too Much. Along with the gaining weight… when I got back to The States at 6.5 months pregnant I had gained 18 pounds and my doctor told me I needed to start watching my weight because I didn’t want to gain too much. It would be unhealthy. So then not only was I sad about the cellulite, but I was also stressed and sad about needing to stop eating so much. I wasn’t eating ridiculously unhealthy, I was eating more pasta then usual, but not shoving myself with ice cream and candy. (Even pregnant I didn’t care for either that much.) I never had any cravings, so I can’t imagine what the doctor would have said if I was actually eating like your typical pregnant women.  I definitely would have weighed way more than I did.
Vampire Nose. Another shitty part of being pregnant is having what I call the vampire nose. I now know how Edward Cullen feels everyday of his vamp life. Being able to smell everything sucks. I could tell if my husband left the trash can lid open in the kitchen from the living room two rooms away. Me being the emotional asshole that I was would take it personal, usually get mad, and surprise surprise… cry.
Anxiety. I have always been one to hate large crowds and feel uncomfortable in them. I always feel like someone wants to shank me and now they also want to steal my baby. I’m always stressfully aware of my surroundings. I clearly have anxiety about some stuff, but during pregnancy I had anxiety about everything. Flying all of a sudden sent me into a can’t breathe, I’m going to die panic attack. At certain points leaving the house would give me anxiety… I don’t know what I was anxious about, but I knew I was… (Probably the impending pain and misery of giving birth.)
No patience. My patience for stupidity and people being ignorant has never been high. (For example,  some twit commented on one of my post trying to make me feel bad that I bought and suggested Doctor Brown’s bottles. She then bitched at me for telling the truth about Enfamil and Similac formulas in that they aren’t as good as they claim to be. Her reasoning for commenting was that she was so disgusted with my stupidity because ((I imagine her voice is very whiny, high-pitched and life is unfair)) “Not everyone can afford those brands so why would you ever shame women that can’t afford your fancy brands?”  I personally feel like her misdirected anger and the use of the word ‘shame’ regarding my post is stupidity. Because I NOW have a little patience I chose not to tell her how stupid and wrong I knew she was, but she is a perfect example of someone I would have completely snapped on while pregnant.)  While I was pregnant I was a complete snap show. I had no patience for anything. Now I had my days of being my sweet, normal self and my husband will say that I wasn’t that bad, but I felt like I was constantly snapping and angry. When everyone is constantly giving you unwanted opinions and advice it really test your patience.  I have my close friends and family that I liked to talk to about baby stuff, but it was those random people who barely knew me and think they had some sort of right to give me their opinion and tell me a horror stories because they have been through it that really got to me fired up. (I was also confused why advice and opinions always came with a complete horror story. Never did they come with a lovely, chill story. Note to anyone that reads this DON’T TELL PREGNANT WOMEN A BAD OR SCARY STORY. They are already scared enough. It’s a dick head thing to do.)
Part II coming soon! Find out more on the not so wonderful happenings during the miracle of pregnancy
**…Even after all the misery of being pregnant there is one thing makes me seriously consider doing it again some day and that is our amazing daughter. Call me crazy. (I’ve already gotten those sarcastic, asshole comments about how they hope ‘I’ve never have to go through that terrible thing called pregnancy again’ so anyone thinking about commenting can save it.)  My husband and I made an amazing, smart, cute, funny kid and the world would be blessed for another one of ours.

Raising a Little Girl and Not Raising a Brat

Raising a kid is hard and at times scary. Being a girl myself I was terrified to raise a girl. I just always pictured having boys, (I have four young nephews so I know raising boys is not easy) but when I’d picture having kids I would always picture them as teenagers and boys just seemed easier. When I’d picture having a girl I would picture that 12 to 13-year-old brat or that 16-year-old  know it all that hates her mother. I won’t be one of those ‘I’m your friend’ mothers so she will probably hate me for a few years.

Because I only pictured those dreaded teenage years I never thought about the relationship I’d have with my little girl. Our relationship where she thinks I’m the greatest person in the world. Our relationship where she will look up to me and think I’m awesome. I never thought about how she would think I am so funny and laugh and laugh at me for flipping my hair or dancing. (It’s awesome having someone think I’m funny all of the time. I mean, I already knew I was funny, but she proves it) I didn’t think about how much fun it would be to dress her in black leather pants and fur vest so we could be so matchy matchy.  (Not the obnoxious ‘look just alike matching’, but just resemble each other.) The clothes I buy her are a direct result of my taste in fashion. They are black, fur, fringe or some sort of animal print and for now she wears them and loves them and I love it. Being a mother to a little girl is so much more fun than I could have imagined and even through those inevitable dicey teenage years that we are bound to go through she will eventually  come back to me as an adult where we can be friends and want to be around each other.

Back to raising a girl (any gender actually) and why it can be scary. I am 100% no expert, I don’t read those ‘How To Raise Kids’ books, but there are some common sense ways to raise a good kid. (I did read an article a while back… ‘How Not To Raise An Asshole’ …it was really good) I have many incredible women to look up to and learn from that have raised or are raising amazing people. My sister-in-law and brother have four incredible boys all under the age of 9. If they can have four well-behaved, respectful, amazing boys I know they must be doing something in the parenting field right and I really look up to them. My mom and dad raised four pretty awesome people 🙂 I also look to them for parenting advice. My husband and his sister are absolutely amazing people, so I know that my in-laws had good parenting ways, too.

I believe (I people… I believe… It’s what I believe.  I am not shaming any women that don’t feel the way I do. I am simply stating what I believe and if you don’t believe I am right then that is your prerogative and that is totally fine. I don’t care in the slightest) if I want to raise an independent, successful, smart, young woman I can’t be her friend while raising her. Boundaries will need to be set, she will need to be told ‘No’ and we (my husband and I) will need to be firm on our decisions. Obviously, I want my daughter to like me and want to be around me during those teenage years, but when a woman becomes a friend instead of a mother then that respect as a parent is lost and in its place is a friendship. Friends don’t have rules, so why would a kid follow the rules of their friend? (There is always that exceptional kid that just gets it and is a great kid even when their parent isn’t a great parent, but you don’t find it very often.)  Even at one year old Bradley has already started to push the boundaries, but I refuse to raise a brat. I’ve seen those kids, the ones that never hear ‘No’ because their parents ‘just want them to be happy’. Well kids aren’t suppose to be happy all of the time.  I haven’t been a parent that long, but I know that that is not good parenting… Get a clue. Always saying ‘Yes’ is raising an annoying brat that just expects things in life to be given to her (or him). And if you tell your kid (not baby!) ‘No’ and they throw a complete melt down fit then maybe, (dahn dahn dahn) they need a spanking. Yep I said it, I went there, that controversial word….spanking. (Again, just to make clear I’m saying kid…not baby!) I know every kid is different and some respond better to timeouts, but sometimes a kid needs to be spanked. If my parents wouldn’t have spanked me I would have been a complete hellion doing whatever I wanted all of the time. I was strong-willed and spanking didn’t take that out of me (I still am) but I did listen a hell of a lot better and follow the rules. Timeouts would have been welcomed and wouldn’t have done shit to change my bad behavior.

I should also make clear for all those haters out there that will tell me they ‘can’t believe I would agree with spanking and that it is abuse of a child’ and ‘you are a terrible, uneducated person if you think spanking is acceptable’. Spanking is a swat on the butt and it is discipline. (If a person is beating a child, hitting them with too much power, hitting them all over the body, punching them, leaving bruises, then that is abusing a child and that person deserves to be in jail where everything they did to that child will come back to them twofold.)

While some kids are more prone to being brats, it’s mostly the parents fault. The parents fault for not disciplining and letting their kids get away with bad, disrespectful behavior. Parents that don’t make their kids say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ or ‘excuse me’. The other day a mother bumped right into my grocery cart and didn’t say ‘excuse me’ or ‘oh sorry’ and then not five minutes later her kid actually pushed my cart out of his way. (I was rolling it down the aisle, I didn’t have it parked in front of something he needed. I was just in his way) Surprise, surprise… He didn’t say ‘excuse me’ or ‘oh sorry’ either. A direct result of seeing his mother be a rude A-hole and him thinking it’s acceptable behavior. Kids learn from their parents, good and bad.  For anyone that comments negatively on this part of the blog I’m guessing you have brat kids or will have brat kids and you will be completely disregarded.

Raising a kid is hard. There are so many situations that I will encounter and so many ways to respond to them and until I have actually had to deal with them I will never really know how I will respond.  I never ever want to discourage my daughter (any kid) or make her feel like she is anything less than the best. I always want her to believe and know she can accomplish and do anything she wants with her life. But… at what point do we need to stop telling kids (preteen and teenagers) how awesome they are at everything and actually be honest with them? (That everyone gets a trophy stuff is bullshit because in real life everyone doesn’t get a trophy and a score is actually kept) Shouldn’t we be raising and preparing our kids for life as independent, strong adults? When we see subpar work do we tell them to work harder because it wasn’t their best work and hurt their confidence, suggest they take another path or do you just keep telling them they are awesome? (AgainI haven’t encountered this situation yet so I have no idea how I will respond to it. Obviously at this point, I just want to believe Bradley will be perfect at everything and that I won’t have to deal with this problem. It really is a toughy though.  I always say honesty is the best policy.  I do know that when Bradley decides she want’s to play softball at 7 or 8 it will be in a league where the score is kept.)

I remember my career fair in seventh grade when I chose to be in entertainment and I had three different teachers tell me to choose a more realistic goal…  I remember it vividly because I was so hurt by it. Why would a teacher (that at the time I thought knew everything) ever tell a kid they can’t achieve their dreams and that they need to shoot lower because that dream isn’t realistic? Are you F-ing kidding me?

I don’t ever want a kid to feel like I did at that career fair or like they can’t do whatever they want, but if a kid (preteen or teenager) is failing or sucking at something shouldn’t it be suggested they need to work a hell of a lot harder or possibly do something else? (Side note I was in broadcasting and was on TV. So goals can be reached even if you are told they aren’t realistic. I didn’t like the pay much so I went a different direction, but I still achieved that goal.)

As for now I will enjoy Bradley being one and thinking I’m the best person in the world and worry about those dreaded teenage years and the tough situations we will encounter another day. We just take one day at a time …where we wake up, play and read books, she naps, I blog, clean or create something, she wakes up and we go for a walk and play some more, she naps, I do more cleaning and creating, she wakes up we make dinner, eat as a family, play some more, she takes a bath, then goes to bed and then my husband and I have adult time and do adult things. Pretty great life if you ask me.

Formula Feeding… Doesn’t Make You A Shitty Mother

I was going to do my next blog on, “The Annoying Shit People Say To Moms (Me)” but with the fiery reactions I got from so many that I neither know or care to know I thought I would continue on with my Pro Formula Feeding blog.

As an advocate for formula feeding and the “free the nipple… from the baby” movement it is very frustrating when going to birthing classes or even once I gave birth that the doctors or nurses never gave me any information on formula feeding. I did breastfeed (with a combination of bottle feeding) the first couple days of Bradley’s life. I wanted her to have the colostrum I was producing. After the colostrum was over, I was over being milked. I was in so much pain that even if I wanted to breastfeed (ha) I wouldn’t have. I, personally, knew I wouldn’t be comfortable whipping it out in public, even under a blanket. If you are, then more power to ya! I still don’t want to see it and still think it’s uncomfortable.

Again, it blows my mind how many people will get so offended by my views on breastfeeding and  social media comment on it like I give a fuck. 

Not breastfeeding does not mean you’re a shitty mother, no matter what all the “expert mommies” say. You shouldn’t feel guilty. It’s not like you are smoking crack while mothering your child, you just aren’t choosing to breastfeed.  Not breastfeeding means you want to share the feeding responsibilities with your partner… let them bond with your baby like you get to bond with him or her every few hours a night. It means you want to get back to drinking wine, eating sushi and/or taking your prescription medicines again. These things don’t make you a bad mom, they make you a mom that wants to feel a little normalcy again. It makes you a mom that at the end of the day after nonstop baby, baby, baby wants to relax, chill and feel like an adult by doing adult things.  I really, really like wine. I obviously stopped drinking it for 40 weeks, but once she was born (well a few weeks after) I was ready to get my wine on!  Also, if you were anything like me you just wanted your obnoxiously huge (almost inappropriately large) boobs to shrink back down to their perfect DD size and be able to fit into your shirts again.

Not every mom has the choice to breastfeed or not, some women simply can’t produce milk so isn’t it bullshit that the hospitals and classes aren’t teaching soon-to-be mothers about the other option… the dreaded formula feeding option. Give some info on the best bottles, the best formula, how to make a proper bottle and what should and shouldn’t be in formula.

Some of my favorites:

  • Favorite Bottle : Doctor Brown’s  :Lots of pieces to clean but my favorite.
  • Favorite Formula: Hipp (Germany) Semper (Sweden) Baby’s Only Organic (USA)

It would have been nice if the hospital would have given me information on formula. It would have been nice to know that Similac and Enfamil are not as good formulas as they would have you believe.  It would have been nice to know that you should always boil water before you feed it to your baby or mix formula with it. Maybe that will be my next endeavor… getting formula feeding information into maternity wards, letting women know that it is okay to bottle feed by teaching women how to do it correctly. “Free the nipple… from the baby”

When Bradley was about two weeks old she became so gassy and this lasted until we got to Germany. She would scream and then fart weirdly loud for such a tiny human. This went on for a few weeks, until we got to Germany and changed her formula. The Hipp formula instantly changed her gas. She didn’t have any anymore. That’s when I started doing hours of research on formula and what makes it good and what makes it bad. It was crazy how quickly a good formula changed Bradley’s stomach problems. It was also crazy the shit they allow into American formulas vs. European formulas.

Regardless of what some “expert mommies”  think of my views on breastfeeding if it helps just one mom feel better about herself, her mothering abilities and her mothering choices then I could careless what those “expert mommies” have to say about me or my beliefs.

 

The Shit They Don’t Tell You About Being A Mom

Shit They Don’t Tell You
  • Being pregnant sucks, you can hate it and that’s okay. Online you see one Instagram photo after another of baby bumps and women captioning them with an inspirational quote or something about what a miracle it is or how amazing this process is. Don’t get me wrong it is a miracle, the way a body can make a human is an absolute miracle, but it doesn’t mean you have to enjoy it. NOT EVERYONE DOES and you don’t have to feel bad for not enjoying it.
    • The changes in your body suck. Your nipples get huge and gross looking. The veins on your boobs look like the freaking map of Narnia. My thighs started touching together when I walked, so I was constantly pulling my shorts or pants from my crotch. My boobs were the size of honeydew melons (Gross). I was sooooo tired. Not all women get the complete exhaustion I experienced, but I was miserable tired (especially the first trimester.) I got almost nothing done in 40 weeks (expect for making a baby) I became a huge crybaby/crazy/emotional wreck. My skin was sensitive and itchy. My hair hurt to brush because apparently I was all of the sudden tender headed.
  • The absolute WORST part about all the body changes was my sex drive was ZERO. Contrary from what my husband thought and popular belief not all women are horn dogs when they are pregnant. The few times we did have sex it was because I felt so bad for my husband. I mean, if he was telling me ‘No’ all the time I’d be freaking losing it. Sex is one of the best things about a relationship so you can imagine I was miserable. Luckily, I have the most amazing husband who was always very understanding, supportive, loving and never made me feel bad about not wanting to do it.
  • This one was a really hard one for me and for the first month of her life I felt absolutely horrible, but sometimes you don’t immediately fall deeply, madly, my world just stopped, head over heels in love with your child. Now that I am head over heels, deeply, madly, I legit could eat you in love with her I realize that it was okay to feel the way I did. However, I have to admit I was mildly horrified I didn’t have the feelings that so many moms say they have… those, ‘the second I knew I was pregnant my world seemed complete’ or ‘the second I had you everything else didn’t matter’ feelings.  Ya… I didn’t get those feelings. I am jealous of the women who do, but after pushing for 3 hours and being in labor for 21 all I wanted to do was sleep. The next five days were a complete blur. A stressful, surreal blur due to the epidural headache and the muscle relaxers I was on. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my husband.
  • You can never really comprehend what going without a full nights sleep for two months in a row can really do to you. You can’t explain it to someone who hasn’t had a kid and they can’t even imagine what its like. I felt like a zombie. A mad, sad, delusional zombie. (No, it wasn’t postpartum it was strictly lack of sleep. I can be a real crazy when I am tired) My husband had to leave for training camp five days after Bradley was born so it was all me getting up every two to three hours a night. I wasn’t looking at my new-born as a little bundle of joy. (All she did was eat and sleep) I was looking at her as the child that requires all of my energy and is completely draining the life out of me. Once she started sleeping 7 hours a night at about two and a half months old everything changed. I was back to being my normal, mostly good mood self and could really enjoy the new life I brought into the world. (Thank God and special shout out for my mom who would take her one or two nights a week and let me sleep for a good 12 hours and my dad who would watch her while I napped or got errands done.) It really is crazy how your priorities and wants in life change once you have a baby. Sleep is 20x more important and wanted than going out for a night on the town.
  • Breastfeeding sucks. I hated it. I did it for a few days and then quit. It made me feel like an animal… like a cow at the local 4H show. So many people look at me like I’m a freaking crazy person when I say I think breastfeeding is gross. And I get a lot of people who get weirdly offended when I say I don’t like it. (Like why the fuck would anyone get offended because I don’t like breastfeeding?) Do all moms clean their nipples before they let their little one suck away? My boobs sweat, a lot. So that could be unsanitary. It’s okay if you don’t want to breastfeed and don’t like it. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO IT! No matter what the doctors, nurses or mom shamers say. I can’t even get started on this “free the nipple” shit I’m seeing everywhere or the people who get mad at me because I don’t want to see boobs flopped out in public… It’s weird… You don’t see dicks flopped out with the heads covered like it is okay. You wanna breastfeed? Go for it! I’m not gonna get mad at you for doing it, so don’t get snippy with me for not doing. It’s a personal choice… It’s cheaper to breastfeed so that’s great. (I’ll get to breastfeeding in another post. There is just too much to talk about) 
    • Side note: Do your research on formula. Doctors never tell you about what is good in formula and what isn’t, doctors don’t inform you on anything about bottle feeding which is bullshit. I didn’t even realize I was suppose to boil the water before feeding it to her. No one told me and I was clueless about all things baby. I had to do hours of research about getting the best formula. America doesn’t have much to choose from, but Europe is stocked with healthy, good for your baby formula. (Stay tuned for more info in another blog)
I want to make it clear that Bradley is the most amazing little girl. Half the day I wander around amazed that I could make the cutest little girl in the world. She is a complete blessing and coolest thing I have ever made…. and I make a lot of cool stuff.