I'm going to be honest here. Mean Mommy has guided me more than once before and I can't help but think what she recently posted about is more than true. The 14 month itch. Dear God, its intense. As of late I've felt positively insane. I'm thinking about how I can start another business, perhaps write a book or take on some other enormous creative project....or maybe we can just have another baby and I can start all over again. Jesus.
I'm not giving away any secrets here in saying that the dear husband and I want more than one kid but I do feel seriously bi-polar about it. One minute I'm all on board, come honey, let's go. The next minute I freak out about how what little time I have to myself will be decimated, and how I'll never sleep again. Its not helping that EVERYONE I know has gotten pregnant all at once. Its like freaking post-war baby boom among my friends. Its causing me to forget how uncomfortable it is to sleep when you are huge, how gross than nauseous feeling is, and that is not even speaking of the labor or the post partum crap.
Awh, babies.
Gimme, gimme, gimme.
Someone please sedate me before I mistakenly seduce my husband. Surely I can find something to fill my days.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Maternity leave
I know, I know, I know - I went MIA on you. I don't even have a good excuse, other than I just kind of fell away from blogging. But I will say, Henry and I had a great summer. We got outside a ton, and now that the weather is cooling down and I'm officially crippled and couped up again with cold and flu season there will be more time for writing.
So let's see - what have I missed?
Henry turned one, started walking. Big man on campus.
Henry has his first dump in the tub. A very loose dump indeed.
He's learned how to "high five" and give open mouthed kisses.
We also started swimming lessons this past summer and had one lesson canceled because another child in the classes booted in the pool. Fun times.
So that about sums it up. I do promise to be back with some regularity from now on.
Right now I need to get one more cup of caffeine in me, take a shower and start the laundry, all while the boy sleeps.
So let's see - what have I missed?
Henry turned one, started walking. Big man on campus.
Henry has his first dump in the tub. A very loose dump indeed.
He's learned how to "high five" and give open mouthed kisses.
We also started swimming lessons this past summer and had one lesson canceled because another child in the classes booted in the pool. Fun times.
So that about sums it up. I do promise to be back with some regularity from now on.
Right now I need to get one more cup of caffeine in me, take a shower and start the laundry, all while the boy sleeps.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Have teeth, will travel
Getting your child a passport is undeniably a pain in the arse. Yeah, yeah, yeah - I get it - we live in a whole new post 9/11 world. Identity creation and proving one's citizenry is a tricky thing. That still doesn't help me here.
So a good friend and I have been leaping through all the required hoops to get our sons their passports for - get this - trips to the freaking Carribean. Remember when traveling to the Carribean simply required showing your pearly white American teeth....maaaybe flashing a driver's license? Bah. No more. Now apparently the land of pina coladas and margaritas is on lock down to everyone including my highly suspicious son complete with angelic baby curls and big blue eyes. Everyone knows 9 months olds are renown smugglers and terrorists.
I will say that if anyone in security so much as suggests that they need to touch him I'm pulling my insane momma bear routine. Back away from the new mom, folks. Back away.
But I guess its for the best, the real intention of it all is probably to prove that he's ours and not some kidnapped cherub from the Dominican. I digress.
So after filling out what seemed like the longest form in history AND getting a freaking notarized explanation of why only ONE parent could be present for the formal application (umm, because daddy makes the pay-pah?) we are closing in on the final piece of the puzzle: the passport photos.
Wouldn't you know the moment we arrive at our local CVS my dear son breaks into a fever, becomes the most ornery child on the planet and I swear is pushing teeth out like there is no tomorrow. He freaks at the mere sight of the overly enthusiastic photo girl, and proceeds to lose it even more when she dare whips out her camera. The situation became so dire that we decided that moment might not be the best time for this milestone. Perhaps tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes and we are right back where we left off. Freaking out, squinty and crying surely does not meet the US standards for acceptable photos. I try everything - I walk with him around the store, I give him the previously thought "never fail" zwieback toast. Nada. I become the mother whom everyone looks at, "What is she doing to that poor child?"
Trying to take him out of the country, that's all. Christ.
Finally, I slowly make my way back to the photo desk while trying to distract Henry so he should not realize it. I give the signal to the girl, quickly toss him up in front of the white background and SNAP. The result is the saddest passport photo in the history of passport photos. The poor child looks like he's being held hostage or just ate a lemon.
I thank the kind passport lady profusely for helping us through the required task. We then make our way to the post office to complete the epic adventure. Paperwork in, mission accomplished.
However, it doesn't end there. My good friend, whom I mentioned earlier goes to the same CVS later that day to get her son's photo taken. Apparently the same "kind" passport lady was so amused at the influx of baby passport photos that she shows off Henry as, most likely, an example of what you do NOT want your photo to look like. My friend was amused to see Henry up on the photo screen for all the town to see.
Did I mention that photo stays with us for five years?
At the very least, we are bound to amuse some depressed customs official.
So a good friend and I have been leaping through all the required hoops to get our sons their passports for - get this - trips to the freaking Carribean. Remember when traveling to the Carribean simply required showing your pearly white American teeth....maaaybe flashing a driver's license? Bah. No more. Now apparently the land of pina coladas and margaritas is on lock down to everyone including my highly suspicious son complete with angelic baby curls and big blue eyes. Everyone knows 9 months olds are renown smugglers and terrorists.
I will say that if anyone in security so much as suggests that they need to touch him I'm pulling my insane momma bear routine. Back away from the new mom, folks. Back away.
But I guess its for the best, the real intention of it all is probably to prove that he's ours and not some kidnapped cherub from the Dominican. I digress.
So after filling out what seemed like the longest form in history AND getting a freaking notarized explanation of why only ONE parent could be present for the formal application (umm, because daddy makes the pay-pah?) we are closing in on the final piece of the puzzle: the passport photos.
Wouldn't you know the moment we arrive at our local CVS my dear son breaks into a fever, becomes the most ornery child on the planet and I swear is pushing teeth out like there is no tomorrow. He freaks at the mere sight of the overly enthusiastic photo girl, and proceeds to lose it even more when she dare whips out her camera. The situation became so dire that we decided that moment might not be the best time for this milestone. Perhaps tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes and we are right back where we left off. Freaking out, squinty and crying surely does not meet the US standards for acceptable photos. I try everything - I walk with him around the store, I give him the previously thought "never fail" zwieback toast. Nada. I become the mother whom everyone looks at, "What is she doing to that poor child?"
Trying to take him out of the country, that's all. Christ.
Finally, I slowly make my way back to the photo desk while trying to distract Henry so he should not realize it. I give the signal to the girl, quickly toss him up in front of the white background and SNAP. The result is the saddest passport photo in the history of passport photos. The poor child looks like he's being held hostage or just ate a lemon.
I thank the kind passport lady profusely for helping us through the required task. We then make our way to the post office to complete the epic adventure. Paperwork in, mission accomplished.
However, it doesn't end there. My good friend, whom I mentioned earlier goes to the same CVS later that day to get her son's photo taken. Apparently the same "kind" passport lady was so amused at the influx of baby passport photos that she shows off Henry as, most likely, an example of what you do NOT want your photo to look like. My friend was amused to see Henry up on the photo screen for all the town to see.
Did I mention that photo stays with us for five years?
At the very least, we are bound to amuse some depressed customs official.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
And for your first Father's Day ... I'll break my face
No one has ever called me graceful, I think I know why.
My husband, who has risen to fatherhood with a natural ability and sweetness that brings a tear to my eye, had to fly up the stairs today after I yelled for him to find me on my knees - face covered in blood. Somehow I slipped on our dining room floor and connected my face to the hard corner of our rocking chair. Thankfully I wasn't holding Henry at the time of my flight. I also don't think I broke my nose, its not swelling too badly, and I don't think I'll have a black eye - but dear GOD it hurt. And the blood. I was dizzy from the volume lost. It wasn't pretty people. Not pretty at all.
So happy Father's Day my love. I thought I would give you something to remember your first with.
My husband, who has risen to fatherhood with a natural ability and sweetness that brings a tear to my eye, had to fly up the stairs today after I yelled for him to find me on my knees - face covered in blood. Somehow I slipped on our dining room floor and connected my face to the hard corner of our rocking chair. Thankfully I wasn't holding Henry at the time of my flight. I also don't think I broke my nose, its not swelling too badly, and I don't think I'll have a black eye - but dear GOD it hurt. And the blood. I was dizzy from the volume lost. It wasn't pretty people. Not pretty at all.
So happy Father's Day my love. I thought I would give you something to remember your first with.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Momma said there'd days like this..
3:50am - Baby boy wakes up feverish. Temp is 101 and he's due for a dose of Tylenol. Dose administered, diaper changed and I pull him into the guest room with me. I'm not freaking out (despite this being our first serious cold) but I would like him near me until his fever goes down.
5:25am - Baby boy perfects the "volcano-effect" with vomit. Its everywhere. I had no idea that I had the ability to produce that much breastmilk..... in my life. I swear he threw up gallons. Clearly the sleeping gods are punishing for me for co-sleeping with a sick child. Clean up commences, day begins.
5:45am - Make pot of coffee. Sweet nectar of life.
6:45am - Baby boy rejects all solids as he has for the past 24 hours, which means he'll be attached to my chest until this plague passes.
7:00am - I nurse him and then while changing his diaper I get peed on. I then successfully get baby boy back down to sleep (he's showing signs of exhaustion.) Normal nap schedule aborted.
7:15am - Let dogs out. Our longer haired dog, Riot, love her though I do has this issue with the hair on her ass. Its too long and very prone to crap dingleberries. Every once in a while it "complicates" things and she needs a bath IMMEDIATELY after her walk. Of course today would be one of those days.
7:20am - Giving a Riot an ass bath in the tub and literally cutting the crap off her. I want to cry.
7:30am - After cleaning the tub I sterilize myself with the hottest shower I can stand. I try to compose myself until the water turns ice cold due to my husband getting in the other shower.
7:35am - I crawl into bed with my bathrobe and towel on turban-style and pull the comforter over my head.
Thankfully, Jim is working from home today (he's not feeling that great himself) so I don't feel as desperate to throw myself from the roof. However, while trying to maintain sanity I was remembering in elementary school when something unfair or not right happened on the playground. Everyone would yell, "Do over!"
I would like to request a "do over" on May 21th.
5:25am - Baby boy perfects the "volcano-effect" with vomit. Its everywhere. I had no idea that I had the ability to produce that much breastmilk..... in my life. I swear he threw up gallons. Clearly the sleeping gods are punishing for me for co-sleeping with a sick child. Clean up commences, day begins.
5:45am - Make pot of coffee. Sweet nectar of life.
6:45am - Baby boy rejects all solids as he has for the past 24 hours, which means he'll be attached to my chest until this plague passes.
7:00am - I nurse him and then while changing his diaper I get peed on. I then successfully get baby boy back down to sleep (he's showing signs of exhaustion.) Normal nap schedule aborted.
7:15am - Let dogs out. Our longer haired dog, Riot, love her though I do has this issue with the hair on her ass. Its too long and very prone to crap dingleberries. Every once in a while it "complicates" things and she needs a bath IMMEDIATELY after her walk. Of course today would be one of those days.
7:20am - Giving a Riot an ass bath in the tub and literally cutting the crap off her. I want to cry.
7:30am - After cleaning the tub I sterilize myself with the hottest shower I can stand. I try to compose myself until the water turns ice cold due to my husband getting in the other shower.
7:35am - I crawl into bed with my bathrobe and towel on turban-style and pull the comforter over my head.
Thankfully, Jim is working from home today (he's not feeling that great himself) so I don't feel as desperate to throw myself from the roof. However, while trying to maintain sanity I was remembering in elementary school when something unfair or not right happened on the playground. Everyone would yell, "Do over!"
I would like to request a "do over" on May 21th.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
wind from my sails
He's sick. Figures that the FIRST TIME my son sleeps through the night is probably because he was sick.
He woke up Monday with a loose cough but I just thought I would keep an eye on it. Later in the day I changed him and he felt warm. He had a low grade temp and the pediatrician said, "non-specific virus." I asked if this virus could cause unusual behavior "non-specifically." She said yes.
Sigh.
However, I am trying to appreciate the fact that now I know he physically can sleep that long.... even if a stupid virus made him do it.
He woke up Monday with a loose cough but I just thought I would keep an eye on it. Later in the day I changed him and he felt warm. He had a low grade temp and the pediatrician said, "non-specific virus." I asked if this virus could cause unusual behavior "non-specifically." She said yes.
Sigh.
However, I am trying to appreciate the fact that now I know he physically can sleep that long.... even if a stupid virus made him do it.
Monday, May 19, 2008
milestone of milestones
Even as I type this I can hardly believe it. Last night, Sunday May 18th, my son slept soundly from 7pm to 6am, straight through, for the ... first ....time ....ever. I woke up this morning so happy, and yet feeling like I must still be in some strange dream state. But no, thank you God no, it was TRUE.
My acceptance speech:
It has been such a long time coming and such a hard road to get to this point, but I would like to thank everyone who has supported us in getting us here. We surely would have fallen much to pieces a million times over without all of you. We have no expectations for tonight or even tomorrow night, but we are optimistic and are going to try our best for a repeat performance some time in the near future. To all our fans, we love you and would like to dedicate this award to you.
Thank you and GOOD NIGHT!
My acceptance speech:
It has been such a long time coming and such a hard road to get to this point, but I would like to thank everyone who has supported us in getting us here. We surely would have fallen much to pieces a million times over without all of you. We have no expectations for tonight or even tomorrow night, but we are optimistic and are going to try our best for a repeat performance some time in the near future. To all our fans, we love you and would like to dedicate this award to you.
Thank you and GOOD NIGHT!
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