Gone Fishing

The baby and I are heading out to Iowa tomorrow and to my parents' house today. This means radio silence here until we get back.

She opened the day by turbo horking on me so I don't think that really bodes well.

This all seemed like a brilliant idea when I was a pregnant but now I just want some one to hold me.

Until next week.

Apparently Not Enough Sleep For Good Writing

The baby slept six hours straight two nights in a row. Now that I have told the internets she will not do it again until she is seventeen years old. But I really enjoyed that baby! I got five hours straight which proves how deeply I have sunk into Mama Stockholm Syndrome because when J told me I needed a nap I was like "But I slept so LONG!"

WTF really.

She gave me her cold though. Sore throat, cruddy nose, one droopy eye. So I can barely enjoy my five hours straight.

We also had baby's first bloody nose today. Closely followed by baby's first bloody towel. I am sure it is the dry air even though I am running the humidifier non-stop. In a couple of days we went from crusty to runny to scabby. LOVELY

By MYSELF

Today I got my hair done.

I went out. By myself. For a couple of hours.

And no one sucked anything from my boobs.

It was pretty awesome.

And, as is my habit, I read US Magazine while waiting for my color to process (sweet JESUS I needed the color no wonder I looked so tired) and can I just say that my baby is way fucking cuter than Nicole Richie's? Yeah, an old issue but STILL. My baby is way damn cuter.

I, however, am not as cute as Nicole Richie. Her whole body weighs the same as my left arm I am sure.

Earlier this week I went to my six week post partum appointment--even though the baby is seven weeks old. Everyone knows that this appointment is so you can be approved to have sex again and so your OB can play with the baby. The baby was passed around gleefully, even with the snuffles, and I was sort of approved to, as Dooce says, "reconvene the procedure."

Sort of meaning sure go ahead, but WAIT don't because I am getting an IUD put in and no sex for a couple of weeks before that. What I love about my OB is that she nicely asked if J would be ok waiting and then laughed her ass off because well not really but tough shit.

People are already asking when we are going to have another. WTF people? And they seem to take our answer of "Um never . . ." as some sort of insult to the baby. No, the baby is delightful. Why mess with delightful? Actually, this decision was not come by lightly and has nothing to do with the actual baby and has everything to do with money and careers and class and Blah Blah BORING SHIT THAT IS NOT YOUR BUSINESS BUT NEITHER IS YOUR ORIGINAL QUESTION ASS. . .

Anyway, seven weeks is a little early to be asking me when I am having another baby.

Yes We Are Still In Our PJs

The baby has a cold. A runny nose, weeping eyed, drooling mess cold. A cold that her father brought home. She's had the crusty nose for a week, fighting back the rest valiantly with the aid of a humidifier and a sunny attitude (where does she get that?) But yesterday she caved in a baby-made-of-rubber-meltdown kind of way. It was a long night.

And it's been a long day. The routine is this: baby awakens in full scream, change diaper, suck snot, nurse for massive amounts of time (not a complaint because she didn't eat so hot yesterday and she needs to), suck snot, talk to baby until she passes out cold in the middle of a giggle, wrap and prop her up in the baby easy chair (Boppy), chug Diet Coke. REPEAT. She is currently doing a cycle in the swing. When she is awake she is THRILLED with the ride and then passes out again. It's benign neglect but I am tired y'all.

Because guess who is getting the cold now?

Silent Partner

Does anyone else find nursing really really boring?

Of course the photos you see show mothers looking down at their babies reverently, all deeply bonding and shit. Mostly I stare off into space all stoned looking (but not stoned) or talk to the baby. Because I did the math and the amount of time I spend with that child latched onto my boob is most of my day. And it is damn dull.

Of course I want her to have the benefits of breast milk. And I have to say that nursing is so much easier (if you are lucky enough to not have any problems) than bottles. No mixing, no toting around stuff, no washing bottles . . .just whip it out. But still. BORING.

J hooked up a DVD player in her room and now I am working my way through every movie we own. We have watched the Disney classics (most alarming, I still remember every damn word of Beauty and the Beast from that year my sister watched it every day), Audrey's best (Breakfast at Tiffany's, Sabrina and My Fair Lady), and the works of Pixar. Also Meg Ryan movies. I am running out of movies because I don't buy many and J's are all Sci Fi or non-AB friendly.

I feel really lucky to have this time with her. And that I can feed her without much trouble. I just wish that she were a little speedier in her eating. Or could hold up her end of the conversation once in a while.

And Valentine's Day Is a Hallmark Holiday?

When, exactly, did St. Patrick's day become a card giving holiday? I understand that certain subcultures in this country really love this holiday (and by subcultures I don't just mean college students looking to get smashed on green beer) but really, do we need to make the kid's gift baskets and send Aunt Edna a card? And since Easter is so early this year Target looks like a holiday vomit-fest.

Easter cards I do understand, at least religious ones (the bunny ones make zero sense), because if you are celebrating a religious Easter well then that is something to celebrate. But WTF with everything else? Baskets sure. But good lord it is more out of hand than Christmas.

My grandmother was traumatized as a child by her dad who wouldn't let her wear green on St. Patrick's Day. She had to wear orange and she was pinched black and blue by the kids at school. So when we were little kids she would crochet little green shamrocks for all the kids in our class. A sweet gesture until you realize that she had six grandchildren (times thirty kids in a class), plus the kids in my mom's homeroom (another thirty) and whomever in my grandfather's office she made them for. . . then you realize that this was a compulsive 250 shamrock a February crafting habit that possibly required treatment. All because she never wanted anyone to get pinched again.

In other words, I hope people enjoy their green beer next week. My grandma can't crochet anymore so she will be worried about all of you.

Like Mommy

When you have a baby you are required by law to have 84,000 conversations about who does she look like and where did she get that adorable nose (what? THERE IS NO LAW?!). We do this as much as anyone else and even include annoying personality traits in the mix.

Mo looks like my daddy, and therefore me. With a round face and big blue eyes (which sadly I do not have) and even the nose a bit. The coloring is all wrong, of course, because her hair is like J's beard all one hundred colors and can't make up it's mind what to look like.

She snores like J. And even flings around a bit in her sleep like him. She hiccups like me (sorry) with full body convulsions. When she is dramatically flinging her binky around I tell her to stop being actressy like her Auntie A (heh). When she babbles it is remarkably like my mother.

I don't know why we feel the need to do this. Maybe it is an urge to claim a piece of the baby, a way to feel connected? Notice I only see my family in her? I hear my mother and law say something about how she looks like J's brother and LORD NO SHE DOESN'T.

The short legs and monkey length arms (making sleepers tragically impossible to fit) are both of our faults though. And we are deeply sorry.

Equations

MIL having a job = fantastic for morale.

Jeans that hold in the sag = fantastic for lack of muffin top.

Lunch with friends and their babies = fantastic for a week finish.

All of this = crappy for blog fodder.

So Dull

J is in the other room reciting most of Return of the Jedi to Mo. It is sort of impossibly cute. He usually takes her for a couple of hours in the morning (they sleep) and then just before bed. I try to leave them alone, but I still wish I could watch it. There is something about a man with a baby. So freakin adorable.

My MIL starts her new job tomorrow. Thank God. I think we are all relieved. And I could definitely use the time alone with the kid. As frustrating as she is sometimes it's easier without some one freaking out every time the kid makes a peep. Babies cry. I am putting that out into the universe as a general rule so that we are clear. So all grandmas and future grandmas, there is no need to wig when the baby cries. It will only piss off her mother. Who thinks you are a lovely person but stop. Please.

Other than that I've got nothing. Lands I am dull these days.

Things Happening

Things that have happened this week that might be interesting to some one (heh,me):

1. The child outgrew my favorite outfits in the newborn sizes. I am aware that other babies outgrow the newborn sizes on their way home from the hospital but my petite flower is supposed to grow and develop normally while still being able to wear her cute-ass outfits like this one (non-pink because it was bought by me on the clearance rack at the Gap--fortunately, I also bought it in the next size up in red).

2. Miss Mo has also started being a cranky bitch from 4-6 every day. Sometimes I can get her to nap through it but really it's all about survival. A normally good natured baby can have a cranky couple of hours and not be held under water by her loving parents. MAYBE.

3. My MIL got a job! With benefits! Relief all the way around!

4. Number 3!!!!

5. I got the shaky chills last night from a fever and generally felt like shit. Tylenol broke the fever but I am a little afraid that it is the flu or some infection. On one hand, please do not let me have the flu and give it to the baby. On the other, please don't let me have infected breasts.

6. My dad did our taxes and we are getting money back. We generally try to break even but shit, I would rather get money than have to pay.

7. My hair has reached epic proportions, so long and not thinning out fast enough. I really need to hack it all off but I am afraid to not have a ponytail option.

8. Help me with this hair!