If Motherhood Were on My Resume…

Photo From StockSnap.io
Photo From StockSnap.io


Some prestigious 4-year University that remains irrelevant for the job, 2008-2012 (GPA also irrelevant)


Motherhood, August 2013-present

  • Demonstrate the ability to work under extremely stressful and time sensitive situations  with ease, including emergency diaper explosions and temperamental public outbursts
  • Orchestrate weekly grocery trips, restocking inventory in a timely manner while keeping client in a manageable disposition
  • Outpace erratic client behavior and make well-calculated maneuvers in order to ensure client safety
  • Redesign playroom space on a daily basis to maintain a pleasing aesthetic and enhance optimal performance
  • Supervise client in completing daily tasks, including meal consumption, hygiene maintenance, educational activities, and bedtime routine
  • Diagnose unpredictable illnesses and treat them according to their unique symptoms, successfully dispensing prescribed medications to client despite outright reluctance and frenzied limb jerking
  • Partner with a diverse group of caregivers in a collaborative effort to ensure client growth, execute milestone goals, and accident prevention
  • Resolve unexpected conflicts among other toddlers with minimal to no damage, avoiding toddler inflicted cat scratches due to unwillingness to share toys
  • Sustain an overall positive disposition despite chronic sleep deprivation, unreasonably high-pitched demands, and lack of privacy


Fluent in incomprehensible fragmented babbling; Single handedness (including but not limited to single handed cooking, butt wiping, and carrying up to 7 grocery bags);  Wildly entertaining storytelling ability

What skills would you put on your resume?


Weekend Warriors 2: Easter Sunday in LA

Having a kid reintroduces you to all the wonder and excitement that comes with holidays, such as Easter.

Jojo hates the bunny copy

Save for the first bunny scare (she warmed up fast to all subsequent bunnies) we had a blast re-exploring our childhood and Easter customs in Los Angeles. On Saturday we braved the crowds and visited The Grove, where we waited over an hour to see the Easter Bunny (not the one pictured above). On Sunday we decided to do something on a smaller scale and visited our local Motor Avenue Farmer’s Market that goes on every Sunday. It turned out to be a neighborhood kid’s Easter wonderland without the intensely long lines equipped with a puppet show, egg hunt, and bouncy house. She caught on quickly to the whole concept of finding a glossy egg and shoveling it in your basket (taking things other kids want, an already inherent desire). We kept sneaking eggs out of her basket and putting them back down for other munchkins to find. Shhh, don’t tell her we told you that.

Jo and Dad egg hunting copy

JOandMom copy

Jo in Jump House copy

Celebrating Easter kind of made me miss the good old days when my mom used to adorn me in the foofiest dress on the market topped with a gargantuan bow and drag me to church at the crack of dawn. Dresses, scary bunnies, nice bunnies, bows, egg hunts, farmer’s markets — it’s fun to forge new and old traditions together.

The Past Week Summed Up in One Picture

I’ve been hit with a nasty, lingering bout of bronchitis. Waking up every single night for the last 2 weeks hacking for at least an hour has caused my energy reserves to deplete at an astonishing rate. I’m so exhausted, I’ve been in constant mombie mode reminiscent of those lovely newborn days. And sadly, I haven’t found the time to update this past week. This pretty much sums it up:

Jo sad face

Josephine had a little tickle in her throat too, and we were both on antibiotics. I’m ecstatic to say she’s pretty much back to her normal self. I, on the other hand, am forgetting what life without a cough was like.

Just so I don’t neglect my tiny space here on the internet, here’s a few links from some old posts in the spirit of #throwbackthursday :

The hardest part of being a SAHM

That time I drove to the store and this happened

That time Chris won us a trip to Belize on The Price is Right

All the free things you can do in Los Angeles during the summer (hint: it’s ALWAYS summer)

And in case you were wondering, yes, that is an Elsa princess dress from Disney’s Frozen. This sickness hasn’t stolen our swag. Wishing my cough away, and hoping I can get back to writing and sharing new stuff with everyone next week!

When you accidentally lock your baby in the car…

I’m not gonna say whether or not this happened. But let’s just say if it did, it was a complete and utter accident, never in my life would I have thought that this could happen to me and I would do anything in my power so that it never happens again. Lo and behold…


Key Holder
Image Source: Magnetic Key- Holder, amazon.com

Place a spare key in this magnetic key holder and hide it somewhere underneath your car, an accessible location only you would know. It costs less than $5 and will save you an afternoon worth of stress.

That way, in the event that you lock yourself out of the car, with all your precious belongings inside (*cough*including your own offspring*cough*), you know how to get back in without calling AAA or panicking and breaking the window open with a gigantic rock.

Again, I’m not saying this actually happened.

Any other life hacks you know about? 

Weekend Warriors 1: J. Paul Getty Museum

Thanks to Chris’s recent stint on The Price Is Right, we acquired a brand new Canon 60D to toy with. I’m by no means a great photographer, but now that I have the tools at my disposal, I let my index finger go snap happy at our weekend trip to the J. Paul Getty Museum here in Los Angeles.

This is one of our favorite places to visit in Los Angeles because, sure there’s artwork and a stellar view from the ocean to downtown, but beyond that the architecture of the pavilions, with their stunning lines and curves, are UH-MAY-ZING. They cast a perfect shadow over the garden lawn in the afternoon, which prompts you to relax in the grass after perusing the artwork. Josephine was running around like a maniac, rolling in down the grassy hills and sneaking up on strangers, extending her fingers ready to tickle their bare toes until I gave her the “NO” look. STRANGERS, BEWARE!

These shots aren’t perfect, and frankly my Photoshop editing has plenty of room for improvement. But if you bear with me through these weekend shooting sessions I’m bound to get some good shots. Hope you enjoy!

Loree In Front of Sign copyChris and Jo copy Jo running 1 copy Jo Running w Girl copy

She’ll Potty When She’s Ready


Parenting through milestones as a first-time mother has been this wild process that always goes something like this: 1) Reach milestone age and set a goal 2) Try to execute milestone flawlessly 3) Fail miserably, panic, compare my parenting methods to others, and mope about how bad of a mother/teacher I am, shaming myself into getting better 4) Drink a glass of wine, or two (optional, but never disappointing) 5) Realize that everything happens on my daughter’s time, not mine.

This brings me back to a year ago, when my daughter, Josephine, was quickly approaching six months, yet still waking up several times at night to nurse. All the websites and books on parenting indicated that babies no longer need the nighttime meals and will therefore sleep until morning, but that was far from the case with us. So I went into mommy panic mode. Desperate to get her sleep “corrected,” I started asking other moms what I should do. On one end of the spectrum, a some moms resorted to the cry-it-out method, in which they leave the house so they wouldn’t be tempted to break into the room and console their baby. On the other end, other moms co-slept in every position imaginable with their kids until they grew up and asked for their own space.

While I knew neither option was wrong, they left us shuddering between a rock and a hard place. Josephine’s cries were capable of ripping me to shreds from the inside out, so I fought hard against the cry-it-out method (in which, let’s be real, I’d be doing most of the crying.) However, our queen bed was getting smaller with the three of us crammed from edge to edge, sometimes forcing my partner to concede and sleep on the couch in the living room, so I knew I couldn’t keep her there forever. The best decision my partner and I could make was the age-old solution to simply play it by ear, gently remind Josephine that she has her own little bed, and allow her to tell us when she was ready to sleep in it. Yes, it seemed counterintuitive to let our baby, who’s only been on earth for a whopping six months, call the shots, but it felt like the only option we could agree on. So I continued to nurse Josephine at her will throughout the night, trusting that Josephine’s sleep habits at six months weren’t going to ruin her chances of becoming a fully functioning, respectable human adult.

Flash forward to Josephine at 14 months. She took partial naps in her crib and still awoke in the middle of the night rooting for the breast. At this point, my body had gotten accustomed to the excessive night awakenings and delirious exhaustion. I quietly accepted the fact that I was going to nurse her until she left for college. But one ordinary day, quicker than I could say “attachment parenting,” Josephine suddenly stopped nursing. Boom. Just stopped, cold turkey. She shook her head every time I signed “milk” and preferred a sippy cup of cow’s milk instead of my liquid gold. I pumped for a few days in case she decided to change her mind, but her nursing strike led her to do the unthinkable: sleep straight through the night in her very own crib. There was no apparent reason behind her sudden change of routine, no new detectable teeth or fever. The only explanation I can think of is that she was ready to wean and sleep peacefully. I was floored at how unbelievably easy the transition was.

Nowadays, while I stare at the “18+ months” label in big, bright yellow letters across the box that came with Josephine’s first potty set, I have to pause and tell myself it will happen on her time. I think about how delighted I am to get a full night’s sleep, and how I’m even happier it didn’t take a traumatizing, drawn out battle to get here. I’ll admit – it takes every ounce of resistance to keep from googling when and how other parents got their children to poop on the can. Perhaps I’ve learned to preemptively skip the panic step and go straight to the wine drinking, but so far I’ve made it without being overtaken by shame. Besides, learning how to be a patient, gentle and encouraging parent all at the same time is our biggest milestone — one that takes us much longer to accomplish than all the milestones in our children’s early, tender years.