Ch Ch Ch Ch Changes. Turn And Face The Strain

...So it feels like it's been a million years since I've visited my dear old blog. Eons since I've picked up a pen or had the quiet moments to sit and process some dang thoughts about my life as it is now.

The struggle, currently? Balancing the internal me that's never changed with the external predicaments that come with having a baby. Como say what, you ask? What's changed?

Well, I still google like a mother trucker, but now it's crap like "Is my baby going to die because she has crap in her nose? How do I get said crap out of her nose? What's the best nursing bra? How do I get my boobs to stop hurting when I start working out?"

I so miss the days when googling entailed finding out what the Kardashians were up to...

I also physically look different. I'm bigger on top and have a soft belly now. I wear the same four outfits that are conducive to flashing a certain chunk a boob when she sees fit. My skin is different and my hair is a frazzled, hot mess. I just don't have the energy for makeup and hair gel. Who knew squirting crap in your hand took so much energy...

I go to bed at frickin' 7:30. If I'm up at 8:30 it feels like midnight and I'm hurting...mighty bad.

I can't go super far from my kid...she feeds A LOT (have I mentioned that before?!) and hates the bottle. You have no idea how happy I'll be when she starts eating solids. Everyone says I'll miss the constant feedings but I miss the days when I could get lost in a Barnes and Noble for a couple hours without worrying if I was killing my child slowly by puttering around the fiction aisle.

I eat like a beast. It's not cool to watch... I went to a two year old's party recently and had two helpings of cake, a sandwich, veggies, cookies... I just kept going back and back..and back. I'm sure people were side eyeing me. Move over kiddies! Mama needs to eat!

With all the weirdness I have little time to see if the old me is still in there doing ok. I'm hoping that me is just biding time. I know I'm getting an itch to audition again, which is good, but I'm terrified of jobs that would take me out of town.

We're supposedly out of the fourth trimester...meaning things are supposed to ease up a bit, but my wonderful Miss Z hasn't gotten the memo. Or maybe that was all an urban myth to give me the strength to carry on...

Only time will tell.

I'm back at work now so I SHOULD have more time to write. That being said I have to have something groovy to write about. I'm okay with life drifting by quietly and nicely... with sprinkles of awesome news circling around acting gigs and Z milestones.

I have no idea how to end this so I'll do so awkwardly. That's it. I have nothing more to say. [She turns abruptly and walks away.]

The First Rule of Parent Club...


The first rule of Parent Club... you will forget every rule of Parent Club (Exhaustion is a bitch.)

I began this post when Ziggy was three weeks old. Cute that I assumed I could think or write...or that I had actual time to do either. She's now eight weeks...the picture above she was six weeks. Time is a stupid unicorn lately.

I've read so many great posts from women who get the kind of motherhood I've been thrown in to. While some moms experience nothing but joyous bliss and look at their sleeping babies lovingly I spent the last two months sobbing about how hard it's been. 

I had breast feeding issues out the wazoo... I got mastitis TWICE. Had a wee case of the baby blues when my mom left after six weeks and have been dealing with a baby who can't sleep longer than 20 minutes at a time. If I hear a sneeze or fart coming from her general direction I weep. 

"And she's up." 

She's adorable and wonderful, but home girl refuses to let me put her down and she LOVES the boob. Can't get her off the boob. She's the champ of cluster feeding. 

I'm pretty sure acting's going to get put on hold for quite some time. Mark plans to take off a sweet amount of time after my maternity leave ends to care for her and then we're hiring a nanny once she's five months old, but nothing about having a baby has been easy or manageable. It's a tornado of scary new and just when I think I've figured her out she goes and has a leap and changes up the game again. 

Oh.My.God. My child is the Goblin King! She's totally cheating and changing up the maze. Why is this just occurring to me?! Forget Ziggy Stardust! She is the other Bowie persona reincarnated! 

Basically I'm not going to get my hopes up that the me I miss will return magically when it's Mark's turn. If we can even call it that... 

So yeah, what I moved to LA to do...what I've loved my whole life and dreamed of...envisioned on a daily basis is so blurry. It seems so far away. I hope it comes back. I hope I'm able to get a chance...but right now I have a fussy baby trying to poop her brains out and I need to drink my cold, three-hour-later matcha green tea.

Three days later because yeah time is a unicorn...

So here's where I am. I don't know what the heck to do with a newborn. I'm supposed to be playing with her how much? She's supposed to nap...on her own? Without my boob attached? Will I fuck her up if I watch TV or when I let her cry while I go to the damn bathroom?!

A new mama friend sent me this article which I so want to plagiarize because it's everything I've felt. I actually despise people telling me I have postpartum depression..that somehow mourning the person I was before I pushed out a kid is bad or abnormal. Props to Renegade Mama. Seriously. Thank you for speaking out and sharing your brand of honest. I dug it. 

I feel like I really need to re-read The Awakening. Ever read it? For this awkward mama it's ringing true...Well all the parts except taking crappy lovers and going into the ocean and drowning. 

Don't know when I'll be able to write again, but for now that's the world I'm swimming in. 

Over and out. 

The Broken Places


The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places. ~ Ernest Hemingway

There are sooo many bizarre and annoying things that happen in the third trimester of a pregnancy that no one warns you about until you're there. Google insights ain't got nothing on the friend who says, "Yeah that happened to me too. I just didn't want to scare you so I didn't mention it." What?! Where were you when it was happening at 2am and all I had was a computer, symptom and my tear ducts? I need to be warned of any and all oddities just in case I, too, end up experiencing that ish.

Mention it people! Mention the hemorrhoids you have to name and pray to. Mention the cramps and the not sleeping and all of the joyful reasons why you can't sleep and the nightmares about your baby being born pregnant.

...How pent up farts will rock your house and cause you to fear early labor or your husband divorcing you because he never said nothing at all in his vows about putting up with the bog of eternal stench making home in your ass or even worse than all of those outcomes--a shart.

Also mention that it may suck for you to dress yourself if you don't submit to a girly ass pregnancy mentality. Where is all the tomboy maternity gear? Can't a woman just spread eagle without fear that someone's staring at her baby's forehead? (My kid chills super low. I know she's a fart away from saying howdy. Did I mention I fart... a lot?)  I hate dresses and I hate pink and I don't like maternity designers. I wear my husband's gear.

Have I mentioned Mark hates me?

No one mentioned these things to me when I was trying to get pregnant...when I assumed feeling "fat" was the only thing I'd have to contend with.

So now I am thankful for the Erin and the Jen and the Vikkie who text with me and share hilarious, but truthful anecdotes on new motherhood. We ask questions...we lift each other up. We laugh. We're inappropriate and brave enough to share the not so flattering parts of our daily thoughts. It's so helpful. I find myself sending encouragement and reminding myself to do the same once I'm in a similar situation. I'm also thankful for Amy effing Poehler who wrote THE book on motherhood. I mean it was Amy who said, "It's easier to be brave when you're not alone."

I am not alone. Chicks may never have mentioned that weird bruises could possibly show up around my belly button because I've stretched too thin, but somehow the good ones showed up just in time to save me from the Googling "you have cancer and/or you're dying" doom of all dooms. Find your crew. Share a really gnarly fact about poop or hairy nipples and see how they react. If the response you get chills you out and reminds you that billions of women have done this for thousands of years then you've found home. If they listen to you discuss your broken places and commend and remind you of your strength then try to do one of the following:

suggestion a: convince them to move with you to a commune and live happily ever after.

suggestion b: name a child after one or all of them (Jerrinkkie?)

suggestion c: write a blog post or email and make sure they all read it.


38 weeks, five days Tish

Pregnant Forever...Will I Be THE One?


third trimester, pregnancy, miserable

So I've decided I'm a pregnant Bipolar type. I am done, done, DONE with being knocked up, but I'm not so sure I'm down for the labor part to come. One minute I'm complaining I want her OUT and then I get pains and I'm pleading with her to give mama a break and go to sleep...because I suck at pain and I'm a wuss and I am not ready. Yeah, I know there are pregnant unicorn mamas out there in the world who actually enjoy labor...even orgasm like G's BUT I've been experiencing false labor and cramps and I'm pretty damn sure I'm not going to be the woman who flushes a beautiful flush and giggles like a fairy every time  I dilate another centimeter. 

I had jury duty this past week and on my way home from the LA downtown area I went into full blown false labor...meaning I had these crazy, no good, horrible pains that didn't ebb and flow. They just consistently shot up and down my belly and into my crotch and had me screaming to Mark for 45 effing minutes.  Note to future mamas: Never get knocked up in Los Angeles. If you can't help yourself and you do get pregnant, never leave your home. Never go into traffic. 

He'd ask me to pull over, but I just knew if I did I'd have a baby on the 101 and I just couldn't be THAT Californian with the obnoxious freeway birthing story. 

luv and kiwi, californians, la, traffic, freeways, SNL, Kristen Wiig

I drove myself home like a boss... promptly peed and felt completely better. 

Mark now hates me.

Third trimester = When you feel all the feelings and I feel miserable. My belly is big for me and it's tight and she kicks me and I swear she has three legs and nails like Flo Jo. 

Luv and Kiwi, pregnancy, baby fingernails

That's incentive for birthing her...please let me see that she has two legs and two arms only...and that her nails are clippable. Not Wolverine-ish stuff that can't be cut or damaged. I've gone through airport security scans one too many times. I actually think and worry about such things. 

So yeah, for all the friends and family checking in to see if I've popped and how I fell: there ya go. I'm kind of a hot mess, but I'm owning my madness. 


OUCH! Mark! Can we get a cupcake? If you ask me to walk one more time I'm going to kick you in your piss pump.

The Nursery


I started planning this durn nursery so early. It's what Type A, anal retentive and hormonal folk do. It's super almost done at this point. We have one large white basket to purchase for the gazillion soft blankets the kid's tush will be playing on and then I shall calmly take a chill pill.

I think I've found THE only creative outlet my mama brain would allow...I can't read. I can't really write a lick of anything clever, but gosh darn it if I didn't super focus in on gliders and art work for Miss Ziggy.

36 Weeks | The Brilliant Narcoleptic

I've reached that point in my pregnancy where I'm ready to not be with child in womb. I want child outside of womb.

This kid is supposed to be so squished she can't move anymore, but my ingenuous offspring has found a way to still kick the living shit out of me at all times of the day and night. There's no stopping her wiggles, punches and kicks. Sometimes they're hilarious and I can laugh them off. Other times they hurt so bad I cry. I actually cry!

Mark seems to think this will make me a weak candidate for labor, but the doctor assured his doubting butt I have not a lick of body fat on my belly so when she decides to stretch she's in fact stretching my rather taught skin tortuously. Good, fun times.

Being I'm an actor and movie buff I had to find an exemplary clip to help him understand and see the pain. Behold... Ziggy kicks:

Yep, friends... One minute and eight seconds in. That be the joy I experience.  I remember listening to women talk about how little they enjoyed their pregnancy. I would shrug off their complaints and tell them how magical and beautiful pregnancy was. I want to sucker punch that naive and totally clueless, opinionated chick in her vagina. She knew NOTHING! 

36 weeks...just a couple more and this kid will fly the coop. In the meantime you can find me on my couch, passed out. I sleep through her rockstar antics like a G. 

Yours Truly,

The Brilliant Narcoleptic 

A Baby Shower Fit for a Ziggy


Last weekend, four of my dear friends, Elaine, Jen, Nina and Glenda threw us the best co-ed baby shower. Chock a block full of our favorite people and our favorite foods, we got down Ziggy style; celebrating the impending arrival of our spunky little lady... the one, the only...Ms Ziggy Stardust.

Sadly both Mark and I's fam bams are back in other states, but our framily out here in LA helped us to remember that we need not feel alone. I've never felt more blessed and more loved. This little girl definitely has a tribe of wonderful people.

Bea's Bakery, Donut Snob, Ele Makes Cakes

Sugar Swag Bakeshoppe

Speaking of wonderful! One of my lovely friends, Brandi of Sugar Swag Bakeshoppe spoiled us with the pink and white cookie treats. (She is definitely a baker who knows pregnancy cravings because bringing white chocolate covered pretzels was the best idea on the planet.) I have THE weirdest food aversions to this day (week 34 and still dealing with metal mouth...feel for me.) so meat was out of the question. I was really hoping I'd pull a Miranda from SATC and be able to go to town on fried chicken, but that isn't in this mama's cards. We straight up served vegan dishes from Veggie Grill and it was awesome. There were lumpia (a yummy Filipino dish) for the meat eaters. A lactose intolerant mama got mac n cheese... All was right with the world. Donut Snob came through as always (If you've been reading this blog for awhile you may recall seeing an appearance of these round pieces of perfection at our wedding.) Ele, one of Mark's bootcampers made THE most perfect Ziggy strawberry and carrot cake flavored cupcakes. AND last but not least they served my favorite dessert for the moment, strawberry shortcake. It wasn't just any strawberry shortcake, though. It was the kind with the whipped cream frosting and the lightest, most fluffiest angel food cake you have ever tasted. If you're ever in the Tarzana area hit up Bea's Bakery. That place is mecca. You'll walk in, see crazy amounts of delicious and start humming "The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music" or something equally as epic.

Jen helped plan the event from Middle Earth (isn't she just the best?! I mean she was very much pregnant throughout the whole planning stage.) Together with Nina, Glenda and Elaine (pictured above in that order) they pulled off the greatest shower filled with sweet baby shower activities such as a photo booth and a onesie station. It was so awesome I didn't even mind the odd cold weather.

Right as we opened our last gift one of our guests felt a rain drop on their forehead. Perfect timing if you ask me! I think it's good labor luck to have a shower on your shower, no? I'm gonna roll with that.

We had the best day and feel so grateful to have such thoughtful, generous and caring people in our life. Now it's time to nest and prepare for a whole new world filled with baby girl goodness. Life is swell.

Luv and Kiwi,


Mamas Gonna Mom


It's still happening... I'm moving farther and farther away from the stubborn "I'll never give up acting for motherhood" mentality and inching closer and closer to "taking a break isn't the end of the damn world."

I've been going to my acting classes, but they're getting harder and harder. We start at 7pm and end at 11pm... okay 11:30 if I'm being honest and that ish is for the birds. I'm the narcoleptic momma. My naps need naps and staying up to think of the moods a room can exude and then "reflect" that mood with my body just isn't working. Yes, that was our latest class assignment. I don't got the chops for it right now.

I missed the Oscars because of class and had to watch a recording the next day. I didn't tear up once. I didn't even dream of my own Oscar speech I've had down pat since I was four years old. Things, they are a'changin!

At first this bothered me. I had nightmares the night after my last class...just thinking of my dream and the grasp I'm losing on it. Don't get me wrong. I don't want to give up acting. I'll NEVER give it up, but right now all I can think of is playing with my baby and spending time with her and watching her grow and be. Leaving her just sounds dumb. I don't wanna do it.

And then I read a quote Zoe Saldana said when someone asked her about taking a break from Hollywood to be with her twins:

"They don't have a choice! I'm not going to rip my child off my tit to go work. And if I do that, then maybe you shouldn't hire me because I am willing to sell anything," she says, laughing."

Somewhere harps started strumming and I fell in love with the woman. Okay, I loved her before, but the shit got real after she said that. Yes, the woman is WAY more established than me when it comes to Hollywood so homegirl can afford to take off and come back with ease, but that's not the point. The point is haters gonna hate; mamas gonna mom. I'm gonna mom!

I'm still flabbergasted that I'm morphing. I mean I didn't think I'd be this deadbeat mama who resented her kid and was off dilly dallying with Hollywood while her child chilled at home, BUT I certainly didn't see myself welcoming a pause.

So yeah... I've discussed this a lot with Mark and the best friend and everyone's pretty cool and chill about it. I'm the only surprised one.

Thank you Ms Saldana for your validating, strong voice and thank you child in my belly for being so groovy. She makes this decision so easy. I mean she sticks out her little booty when she sleeps and lets me tap it delicately while saying, "Tap that ass, tap that ass," and then I sing inappropriate rap lyrics to her...this kid and I are gonna have fun man.

Pre-Audition bump shot. I'm finally getting auditions for pregnant chick...eight months in. Sad I didn't get to milk that ish sooner. 

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