Lost in NYC

Wendy's.

Probably my favorite place to grab a quick bite to eat. Unfortunately for my taste buds (but fortunately for my bank account and waistline) there is not a Wendy's within walking distance of where I live. So when I find out I'm going to be near a Wendy's, I arrange my outing to include a meal there.

Prior to heading to Ikea with my sister, I searched online to see if I could find a Wendy's nearby. There wasn't one super close, but I got directions to one and felt confident we could find it. We finished at Ikea and jumped in the car, ready for some of those delicious fries.

One missed turn later and we were heading over the Brooklyn Bridge. Into Manhattan. 1 woman who lives here but has never driven in the city, and 1 woman who is visiting from out of town. Lost in NYC.

As we drove across the bridge I grabbed my sister's phone and starting snapping pictures. As much as I was freaking out, I knew I needed to document this little mistake because I was never going to cross the Brooklyn Bridge in a car again unless it was in a taxi or a car service. Tori didn't really understand that we were heading into lower Manhattan until we got off the bridge and straight ahead was the Freedom Tower.

The GPS we were using couldn't recalculate fast enough to help us get back over the bridge. And when it started telling us to turn onto streets that we weren't coming upon, we really started to freak out. At one point I figured we'd have to park the car somewhere, abandon it, and find the nearest train station to get back home.

Finally the annoyingly calm GPS voice told us to turn onto a street we were actually coming up on and we found a sign that helped us get to the bridge. I breathed a big sigh of relief as we drove back into Brooklyn. A few more wrong turns and 1 abandoned mission to Wendy's later, we finally made it home.

Peanut butter and jelly never tasted so good.

Hi, my name is Whitney

(Hi Whitney)

And I'm a chocoholic.

Seriously. In high school I could put away chocolate like nobody's business. A handful of M&M's? Try half a bag. No, not half a bag that you get out of a vending machine. Half a bag for A PARTY.

For my birthday, my husband got me a 42 oz. bag of peanut M&M's (my personal fave). I polished that off in about a week and a half.

Unfortunately, I don't have the metabolism that I had in high school (ugh, that makes me feel old). And, I'll be honest. Downing half a bag of M&M's at any age probably isn't the healthiest thing to do.

So a few months ago I decided to cut back on the amount of sugar I was consuming. I thought I could still buy cookies and brownies and just exhibit enough willpower to not consume a whole batch in 2 days. But old habits die hard.

In fact, those habits didn't die at all. If there were cookies or treats in the house, I ate them. All. The only way for me to not scarf down a batch of cookies was to not have them in my house. So I stopped buying that stuff. (no ice cream, no cookies, no brownies, no nothin'!)

I thought I had overcome my addiction. But last week I bought some M&M's to give away for Valentine's Day. Well, that's how I rationalized buying them. But guess what? They didn't make it to Valentine's Day. They're gone. I ate them all. Blake helped me, but I ate most of them.  I really wish I had more willpower when it comes to chocolate. But the only thing that will keep me from eating chocolate besides not buying it is if it has mint in it. Mint chocolate anything=gross.

Apparently this is going to be a lifelong struggle.

and the Mother of the Year Award goes to...

not me.

Yes, those are Blake's shorts along with his diaper. Apparently his diaper was so full that when he slipped his shorts off, the diaper went with them.

In my defense, I was whipping up a batch of home made finger paints for him to play with and forgot to change his diaper. Don't I get some awesome mom points for that?

It was going so well...

until I made the final cut.

It's taken a while for Blake to grow the hair he has now. And after 14 months of growing it, he has a few wildly long strands that hang over his ears and a weird rat tail/mullet thing going on in the back. Because he really doesn't have enough hair to warrant a hair cut from someone who would charge me money for a few snips, I took matters into my own hands.

I figured there was no better time to cut his hair than when he was standing by our window, distracted by passing cars. The sunlight illuminated the long hairs that needed to be trimmed. I took my scissors and tried to trim them without impaling my son. He of course whipped his head around anytime I got close to his head making the experience quite terrifying (for me). I made the first few cuts and it actually looked good. I don't know anything about cutting hair, so I was impressed with myself when the right side of his head looked normal, just a tad bit shorter.

 Not too shabby!

Then I tried the left side. Blake wasn't having any of that, so I went to the back of his head. I figured that part would be easiest because it's a little tuft of hair that I could lop off without worrying that it would look bad.

With a new found confidence in hair cutting, I attempted the left side again. I took advantage of Blake being still while the recycling truck passed and made a clean cut. A little too clean.

 oops...

I knew as soon as I had cut it that I had done it all wrong...and way too short. I hope it doesn't take another 14 months for his hair to look normal. As long as I hold him with his left side facing me, no one should be able to tell, right?