Jan 232014


I’m exhausted. What day is it? Did I shower? Did I eat? Oh, yeah I had four cheerios, a handful of goldfish, three apple slices and coffee. I’m not sure if that was today or yesterday or a combination. Thank the heavens for coffee. What would I do without coffee?

Did someone say “nap time” ?! Baby down, toddler down. Here is my break, my long hour break to do laundry, clean the kitchen. Oh wait what was I thinking? My proposal is due in three days. Laundry, proposal, laundry, proposal, laundry….. Ok – I can do laundry tonight, fold in the morning after breakfast. Ha! fold? We can fish from the bin.

If I could only find my keyboard under this pile of bills. Ugh, bills. I’ll organize them tonight, after I do the laundry. They should sleep tonight. Fingers crossed. Focus, focus. Check email….should not have checked email. So tired. When did yoga pants become my wardrobe staple? How did this happen? Oh, yeah – now I remember, (smirk). “I’m so tired”. Maybe I’m pregnant? When did I start collecting yoga pants? Dinner! It’s going to have to be breakfast for dinner. Why do I always have to plan dinner? I’m not the only one that eats. Tonight I will not make my toddler a different meal. I will not! He eats what we eat. Oh but he hates eggs – maybe I have some turkey. Grocery store tomorrow. Start grocery list… turkey, apples, eggs, milk…

Baby is up, toddler, not up…who decorated the wall blue? Was that there this morning? Get diapers, wipes. Ugh, defective diaper. Looks like laundry just moved up on the list. Strip the baby, clean the baby, change the baby. She’s such a happy girl. Slightly jealous of the baby….

I wish someone would wash and feed me too, and nap time! I want nap time… So tired.

Toddler is up. No please don’t take your clothes off. Okay two naked kiddies. Wish I could go commando whenever I wanted. They get all the fun. Not the markers! Where did he find those, I hid them…. Thank you Aunt Sally for the markers. At least they are washable.. what they heck.


Who wants a washable tattoo? Looks like it’s a bath night… Wait, what day is it?


To learn more about Ana, please read our introductory post about her.

Dec 032013

Ana Begins Header

Meet Ana….This is Her Story

I am thankful for my friend Carolina Gomez (now Marx) because she was my best friend and confident in high school and without her it just wouldn’t have been as fun. I am also thankful because she introduced to me Ana Gonzalez (now Proctor). Ana is one of the kindest, most generous people I know. We bonded over a common love of shoes, but what has made our friendship endure, despite the long distance, is her kindness. She’s the type of person who would take in a homeless girl who decided to do a summer internship in a city she’d never lived in (that would be me), and open up her home and friendships. Ana did all that for me and it was a special summer filled with late night talks, lots of giggles, and many dreams shared (and maybe some wine spilled). It was long before either one of us was married and had babies, which means it feels like a LONG time ago.

Ana is special to my heart and in my opinion a natural mom. So, when we started MommiesFirst I wanted her on the council to help other moms. I was thrilled when she agreed and then we started talking…..Talking about how life was changing as her daughter, Carolina, (yup, same name as the very friend that introduced us!) was growing up. Ana is finding/ discovering a new role and passion as her daughter needs less and less of mommy. As part of her self discovery journey Ana started to write, and I convinced her to share her stories with our community of moms. We decided to name her stories the Ana Begins Series. Yes, i’m a fan of Counting Crows, but more importantly it just seemed like the most appropriate name for a collection of stories from a mom rediscovering her role and her path forward by going back in time and writing about all the adventures of her journey as a mom.

Ana is witty, she’s raw and she’s well, just like one of us. Starting next week – Ana Begins…..I hope you will join us!

With love and care,


Lorena Scott

ps This is Ana!!!



Dec 032013


When I found out I was pregnant I almost fainted.  I remember reading the test results.  I recall the overwhelming sense of wooziness as I placed the wand on the counter so I could sit before I fell over. Never in my twenty-nine years had I given one thought as to what it would be like to carry a human being. I was at that instant overwhelmed with emotions. Emotions I felt unprepared to understand.  The videos in health classes presented mostly technical information. The technical I could handle.  The emotions I could not.  My parents had plenty of cute cuddly stories about my sister and I as babies, but the social acceptance of discussing “private” emotional experiences were kept silent.  I never knew how my mom felt when she was expecting me. I never knew how she felt when I kicked or hiccupped.  I know I asked her on a few occasions, but the answers I received were vague, and she simply stated, with a cute giggle, that she did not remember. I never gave much thought to this lack of information, until it surfaced the moment the wand turned positive.

Once the wooziness and shock subsided I had no choice but to ignore my fears.  With my guy by my side I jumped fully clothed into the experience that lay before me.  My baby would know what it meant to carry her, as this was the motivation which allowed my fears to diminish.  This experience was for her, and that made all the difference.  She would eventually know what it felt like when she kicked and hiccupped.  She would know exactly how weird it looked to see the bottom of her little foot press up against my belly, a story to which she still breaks into fits of giggles.  I would take in each day as a completely different experience, using baby sites to see how she was developing. I took side pictures of my belly so she could one day see how snug she fit.  Her daddy and I would talk and sing to her, hoping our off pitch melodies would not alter her ability to know good music. She’s into One Direction, aka One D currently, but she likes the Beatles too so there is hope.

When she is older I plan to tell her she sat on my bladder and kept me awake ALL night long.  She will know that for the first time in my life I had no appetite and the doctors were forcing me to drink protein drinks.  She will know that her daddy kept asking the ultrasound technician at every visit if she was sure the baby was a girl, as he knew he was already wrapped around her little finger. The technician annoyed by his pressing inquiries asked him why he was nervous about having a girl.  “Oh, man. I don’t know if I can handle two princesses”, he stated.  “Oh. Well how old is your other little princess”? She asked. “29” was his response. She’ll know how we tried to avoid everything pink, and somewhat succeeded, even though her cutest outfits were in fact pink.  I’ll tell her about the parties thrown in her honor and how she was showered with gifts and well wishes.  I’ll tell her how in my last month of carrying her our new bed (manufacturer unmentioned) deflated in the middle of the night, and how I called the company in tears apologizing the whole entire phone conversation for being so emotional about my deflated bed. I’ll re-enact my pregnant waddle to make her laugh, and show her how I had to tie my tennis shoes on the sides. I’ll tell her how she loved to play at night and sleep during the day, which made mommy VERY tired. I will tell her (at an appropriate age of course) how in my emotional pregnant crying moments, her daddy would make me laugh by telling me to create a soap-opera story for the tears, like how my sister’s dog’s vet’s Siamese-twin ran off with my husband.  I will tell her that even though I was excited to be a new mom I still worried every single day because the moment a woman becomes a mother there is a switch that gets turned on and NEVER shuts off.

I hope that if she finds herself on the journey of motherhood many (many many many many many) years from now my experience will provide her confidence, comfort and love.

(Did I mention MANY years?)



If you’re interested in reading an introduction about Ana, please see “Introducing the Ana Begins Series”.

Dec 032013

strrANA BEGINS…..Toddler Story

I still remember rocking my baby to sleep, watching her facial expressions as she lay in peaceful slumber.  At that moment I ceased to imagine this precious, beautiful, peaceful little angel ever giving me grief.  I naively assumed any un-pleasantries would create cute memories.  One year, ten months, four days, six hours, twenty minutes and five seconds later I’m standing in front of a lovely jewelry shop. It was a sunny Friday morning in downtown’s busy shopping district. In the middle of the street is me, tangled in a fallen stroller, shopping bags, and a blue balloon trying to wrangle my escaped tiny terror, aka Monstrito.  She made it about three steps from the stroller and threw a beastly tantrum, center stage. The homeless man standing at the corner grabbed his change box, sign and mutt and high-tailed it across the street.  People parted around my Monstrito as if she could pull a Medusa with just one look.  Attempting to calm her, before she sat on the ground and rubbed her face on the germy concrete, I abandoned the useless stroller and was awkwardly dodging flailing arms and feet in an attempt to secure the wild little beast from the dwindling pedestrians left on our side of the sidewalk.  The facial expressions of strangers pierced my suffering motherly competence as my anxiety grew, frustration multiplied and tears welled in my eyes. I knew I had to get my child under control, lest she decide to dart to the street.  I settled for steering the ball of fury to the storefront side of the sidewalk. Any alert thief would see they could swipe my bags, purse and stroller with ease and get a nice blue balloon as a souvenir.  They could take what they wanted for now my child was rubbing her snot and tear stained face across the jeweler’s window while turning her shrills up one notch in case no one could hear her.  The stares by total strangers mounted in heaps of judgment crushing the little control I retained. I decided I had no pride left and I would just sit, coral her in safety and let Monstrito wear herself out.  Just then a tall, stylish, sophisticated woman emerged from the jeweler.  “Great” I thought. “Just what I need, a scolding about the wretched child and the inability to control her”.  The woman walked toward my daughter, knelt down, put her hands out and asked my daughter, in a soothing voice, if she would like to see some shiny rocks.  Like magic, Monstrito stopped.  I was too relieved to be embarrassed.  She led us into the store, showed my baby daughter the shiny “rocks” and handed me a tissue box.  As I wiped my baby’s tears and nose she shared she was also a mother.  While her daughter was now grown, she assured me this too would pass.  Kindly she asked me if I had packed a snack, as that was probably the culprit of my mid-morning circus.  We had such a rushed morning I had not realized it was almost time for lunch.  Mommy fail  #27865.  FINALLY, my child was calm, my tears hidden and my bruised ego healing.  I buckled my daughter into the stroller, balloon in-tact, and thanked the woman over a hundred times (all while promising to come back in a hundred years to purchase their most expensive piece). We headed for the cafe to get that much needed snack, and as I pushed the stroller through the door the balloon POPPED.  Sigh.

Dec 032013



Ana Begins Header


I remember hearing the poem “I’ll Lend you a Child” by Edgar Guest.  The words of the poem lingered in my subconscious.  The day my daughter was born I recalled being overwhelmed with emotion as I laid eyes on her perfect pink little face.  Once the medications wore down from the unexpected cesarean and she was finally in our room, I was able to hold her.  As I watched her resting in my arms and listening to the sweet coos coming from her tiny body I realized I didn’t know her. Our journey to get to know each other was just beginning. In that instant I knew she was not my extension.  This new soul was not mine to possess.  She was not mine to control.  I was not given a fairy wand to create her off of a checklist I may have envisioned. My child, my daughter was created and I accepted the enormous gift to guide her, respect her for who she already was. As the years progress I shall discover the pieces that encompass her whole self. This opportunity filled with love and uncertainty is not to be taken lightly, as each step will impact her every breath. Realizing the great gift before me is daunting, overwhelming, chaotic…..awesome.