Giving it to you straight about motherhood... or I haven't used the bathroom without an audience in over a month

Yeah, yeah, there's a ton of books, blogs and other resources out there about what it's really like to be a mother. But I'm going to give you the straight poop with a look into my life from just the last 45 minutes.

Motherhood is:

-Holding your son's attention for a minute or two by singing, dancing, clapping, waving and any other inane thing you can think of... and him turning around, finding the tote bag we keep library books in and having it hold his attention for almost 10 minutes.

-Learning to use the toilet while a little one is using your legs to pull himself up to standing. Privacy? What's that?

-Being so tired, you mess up the lyrics to "Old McDonald Had a Farm." Apparently, around here, ducks say, "duck, duck!" rather than "quack, quack!" If FunnyKid ends up having to repeat pre-school, I'm going to feel so responsible...

-Using your child as a dumbbell by lifting them from the floor to the ceiling multiple times. Hey, anything that gets me into shape and keeps FunnyKid laughing is a win in my book.

-Feeling good about yourself because the kiddo bumped his head and was immediately comforted by your touch and voice. Then immediately not feeling good about yourself when he bites your shoulder. Hard.

-Being able to write this post one-handed while simultaneously wrestling a baby. Don't get me wrong, he's still winning the match. My only victory will be hitting "Publish Post" if only I can get my hand free to do so.

The day trip that only cost $50, my sanity and my will to ever travel again

While FunnyKid and I were vacationing at my sister's house last week, she and I decided to take FunnyKid and the two cutest nephews in the world to Baltimore's Inner Harbor for a day. We figured hauling around three kids ages 2 1/2 years, 18 months and 10 months would be a little stressful, but were willing to do it for the experience.

We had an "experience" alright.

The fun started with finding a place to park (and finding out we would be paying $23 for the privilege) and then trying to get into one of the buildings where the shops and restaurants are. Handicapped entrances, which we needed in order to get two strollers into the building, were hard to find and required a long walk to get to them. Having done this before, we were smart enough to have packed a picnic lunch rather than try to navigate a restaurant.

Because FunnyKid is still limited by crawling, I had to get used to the fact that my nephews were able to take off in two different directions with no notice. More than once, kat's lil sis went after one while I tried to head off the other with my stroller.

We adapted well. Kat's lil sis is very laid back (she has to be with two toddlers!) so it didn't bother her when the boys got soaked in a fountain and when we picked a spot on the grass to change diapers (there was no way we were going to navigate handicapped entrances again to find bathrooms). And she barely batted an eye as we walked along the water with one of her boys throwing a temper tantrum because the carousel was being repaired.

While one of the most fun parts of our trip was taking the boys on a water taxi to a different part of the city, it was also one of the most challenging. On our way out of the Inner Harbor, we had the advantage of full stomachs and cooperative kids so even having to empty the strollers of kids and bags before boarding and then begging the boat employees to help heft the strollers onto the boat didn't bother us.

The way back was a different story. Both the moms and the kids were exhausted and hot and hungry. It was a recipe for disaster. Basically, I tried to divide my time between keeping FunnyKid from throwing himself overboard and talking one of my nephews out of disappearing under the seats, while lil sis had a wrestling match her younger son to keep him in the seat, suffering multiple slaps to the head in the process (I think I had the better deal because at least FunnyKid is too little to put up much resistance).

The way home included tons of traffic and overtired kiddos who kept waking the others up. And the irony of it is that all of the boys are too young to ever remember the trip outside of looking at all the photos we took. We agreed it's going to take some time for us to forget the experience and try to take all the boys out again with just the two of us. Eight or nine years ought to do it.

At least he let me come back

The Pretend Husband called me one afternoon last week and said, "You know, you should go visit your sister and nephews. You both stay home with the kids and there's no reason you can't go in the middle of the week." I said he was right and thought that I should plan a trip to visit the cutest nephews in the world soon. But the PH was thinking even more immediately.

"I think you should go this week."

His reasoning had something to do with having a very busy week ahead of him at work and not wanting to feel pressured to get home to see FunnyKid and I, but he was so persistent, I started to get a little suspicious. When I told him I had spoken to kat's lil sis and would be leaving the next morning, the PH said, "Why don't you leave tonight? You can get in the car at FunnyKid's bedtime and get there around midnight."

If I had taken his advice, it would have meant leaving within two hours. Maybe more experienced moms can pull off packing for herself and her kiddo and being out the door in 120 minutes, but I need more time to prepare. I stood up to the pressure and kept the plan that didn't involve me driving five hours in the middle of the night with no notice.

So FunnyKid and I took off the next morning-- but not before I set up nannycams around the house, put a tracking device on the PH's car and paid the neighbor to keep an eye on things (with binoculars).

All this and I'm still carrying baby weight?!?

While lots of people talk about recovering from childbirth and how physically demanding that is (and it is), there's a lot less chatter about the months and months that follow and what kind of aches and pains are associated with them. Which is where my million-dollar idea comes in: a workout based on what moms of babies and toddlers do every day.

The workout involves a lot of sitting on the floor (which isn't always as easy as it looks. As someone accustomed to sitting in a chair at work, I had to get used to the extra drop). Ok, sit on the floor with legs straight out or crossed or whatever is comfortable for you. Ok, sit, sit, sit. Now jump up and run!

Again. Sit, sit. Baby is going for the dog's water bowl! Get up and run!
Sit, sit. Baby is about to go head first down the stairs! Get up and sprint!

Are you feeling it? Are those thighs burning yet?

Oh, but we're not done yet. Back down on the floor. Ok, now get a 20-pound weight and get up off the floor without using your hands and without dropping the weight (the weight cries-- loudly-- if you do that). Do that about a million times.

Almost there. Now stand up and put the 20-pound weight on the floor between your feet. Bend over from the waist and lift the 20-pound weight up over your head, hold and return the weight to the floor. The 20-pound weight thinks this is a great game and wants to do it again! And again! Repeat at least 35 more times and be prepared for the weight to be upset when you stop.

How do you feel? Good. Only eight more hours before Daddy gets home and you can take a break!

Tomorrow, we work on stretching your arms by reaching under the couch for a lost toy and will add some resistance by having the weight flail around while you try to lift it. Now hit the showers (but only if the 20-pound weight is napping and you've finished everything else you have to do today).

Let me count the ways in which I am screwed...

My nine-month-old can negotiate the step between the family room (where all his toys are) and the rest of the first floor (where a lot of dangerous things are) and now pretty much has the run of the house.

Today, he wrestled me for access to my boob... and almost won.

Drawers in the kitchen are no match for Mr. Adventure and putting a yardstick through the handles to keep them from opening just gives him something new to play with (the yardstick makes a fun noise when it's pulled back and then let go to snap against the cabinet).

Changing a diaper is a full-scale wrestling event that involves pins, spin moves to break the opponent's hold and once he tried to tag the dog in when it looked like I was about to win.

Speaking of the dogs, they don't know what hit them. Or-- more accurately-- what suddenly and violently yanked at their crotch hair while they were sleeping.

Perhaps the worst part of all is how stinking cute he is while he wreaks havoc all over the house. This face almost makes me want to give in and let him do whatever he wants. Almost.