Archive for » March, 2008 «

neglectful woman

I truly didn’t mean to go a whole week without saying anything. I guess I was just so… enamored of my four month letter. Okay, not really. I just don’t have anything funny or touching to say. I mean, do you really want to hear about how the kid pooped THREE TIMES while I was changing his diaper? I didn’t think so.

I’m working part-time, writing part-time. It’s a good balance for now. I work a split shift, which means I really don’t have enough time in one sitting to get more done than answering the 50 bajillion emails I get every day. Those darn students. So needy. (I kid.)

But I can at least show you what else I’ve been up to. I found some interesting urban legends about weddings. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to wear purple at my wedding. Oops.

And I’ve been following the Michael Jackson neverending Neverland story. I almost feel sorry for the guy. It’s just so sad.

Been busy drooling over the many properties of Paul McCartney, too.

Also? Grateful I don’t have terrible in-laws to blog about. Not in this marriage anyway.

Oh, and I’m totally going to have to restrict myself from Twitter. It’s too addictive. Although I have gotten some great reads from people over there.

What is YOUR week shaping up to be?

Month four: letter to our son

My dearest son:

As I told you before, I probably won’t be consistent at this newsletter thing. I’m too busy spending time with you, drinking in your eyes, mouth, fingers, and toes. I can’t get enough of your sweet smile, your dimples, and your giggles.

little hands will build big things one day

This weekend, we heard you laugh in your sleep. It was one of the most precious things we’ve heard. Ever. And I heard it again last night. I’m still mopping up the puddle of goo from my side of the bed, where I melted.

You are a snuggle bug. When I take a nap with you, you plaster yourself next to me. When I put my hand on you, you stroke my arm. But when your feet are pointed my way, watch out. You love to kick. You grin madly, flail your arms, and kick with abandon. You look like a little running man, but with no traction. It’s seriously cute. And you think it’s hilarious. So we let you kick us. Daddy and I both know we’ll regret that later.

Through your eyes

I’m a little scared of your poop right now. I’m poop shy. You tend to fill your diaper up after eating, which is pretty typical. But last Saturday, after you pooped, I opened your diaper to change it. You started to pee a little as I wiped up the mess, so I covered you back up, getting poop all over you again the process. And then I heard a dreaded rumbling, and you started pooping again. At that point, I could only pray that you didn’t have gas, too. You finished, and I got ready to wipe again. You started pooping again. At that point, I got a little nervous that you’d start kicking and either get your foot in the mess or move the diaper and release a poop avalanche. I held onto your feet for dear life and you pooped yet again. At that point, I’m just praying the sides of the diaper catch everything, as I was changing you on our bed. On my side, no less. I must have used 15 wipes to clean everything up. I prayed the whole time: please don’t poop again, please don’t fart, please don’t poop any more! I’m still traumatized from it. When I hear you poop now, I cringe. Will the diaper hold? Who knew one little baby could produce so much poop all at once?

But I’ll manage anyway, because that’s what mommies do.

Time is picking up speed, and the days with you are starting to pass much faster than I would like. Right now we’re your favorite people in the whole world. You wake up with a smile for us. You grin when Daddy gets home from work and says hello to his boy.

typical guy - already hogs the remote

I knew I would love you. I always have. But I didn’t know what an absolute joy you would be. I can’t get enough of you. I could stay home all day and do nothing but entertain myself with you, go for walks, play peek-a-boo. It just doesn’t get old. I hope it continues for as long as possible, this inability to get enough of you. I live for that smile, those snuggles, these giggles. I imprint them with indelible ink on my memory.

Love,
Mama

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my cats hate me

Last night, one of our cats was up on the bed with us. We just bought this little toy that is an airplane with a spinning prop on the front. It also lights up. Very cute. The baby is fascinated by the lights. The cat, however, wasn’t so sure about the noise it made. The prop is foam, so it makes a strange whirring noise when you hold it up against something. The cat backed away, clearly not liking the noise. She got to the foot of the bed, warily watching it. I moved my foot near her and made a noise at the same time. She bounced straight up a good three feet off of the bed and landed in the floor. It all happened so quickly that all J and I could do is laugh. It was the funniest darn thing we had seen all day.

Then this morning, I went into the kitchen to warm up some tea. I guess the other cat was crunching the cat food so loud that he didn’t hear me coming. I turned the corner into the kitchen and he shot across the kitchen, knocked the cabinet under the sink open, things inside flying everywhere, bounced off the cabinet and shot past me. I came back out and had to call him a few times before he would come near me. Every hair on his back was standing straight up. I tried not to laugh as I comforted him.

I think I’m going to give them both heart attacks some day. Quite possibly before they plot my demise.

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hard knock life

Our little man was not happy last night. Since my tummy was a little upset, it’s possible his was, too. He fussed. A lot. And I had to work. So there I was, sitting at my desk, listening to him cry, not able to do anything to help (Daddy was with him). And even if I had been able to get away from my desk, what would I do? Is it time to stop picking him up every time he cries? When do they start learning and taking advantage of that?

J doesn’t want to get in the habit of having to walk the floor with the kid. I understand that. But it also kills me to hear him cry for very long. Really. It feels like someone is ripping my heart out and *I* start to cry.

So how do you know?

He would manage to be comforted for a bit and then start crying again. I really think he had some bad gas that was bothering him, as he eventually settled down after we gave him some mylicon. But it was quite late before he managed to fall asleep.

And then, mama didn’t get much sleep, because she kept waking up all night to check on him when he whimpered in his sleep. On top of that, I had nightmares when I did sleep. Dreams full of anxiety and drama, most of it about the baby. Seriously. It even continued into today. I took a nap after working for a couple of hours this morning, and I woke up twice from bad dreams. Geez, what is up with that?

Needless to say, I’m pretty tired today AND a bit leery about going to sleep. Isn’t that lovely?

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our little man

I just weighed the boy today. You know, it’s really scientific. I step on the scale, look at the numbers, then step off. Then I grab the boy and step back on. See? Totally accurate and scientific. The weight difference this time? Guess. Go on. I’ll wait. Do you have a number in mind? You do? Was it twenty? Yes, my not-quite four month old weighs 20 pounds. No wonder my back hurts. This weekend, we were in Long Beach at the convention center. I saw a woman walking along with her tiny baby in her Bjorn. We chatted and I asked her how old. Nine months, y’all. NINE months. My kid dwarfed him. Lawsy, this is gonna be a big boy.

We’re getting close to some milestones. He doesn’t quite reach and grab things with his hands, but he will draw things in with his hands/ arms when they get close enough. And, of course, take them straight to his mouth. Heh. He’s babbling a lot now. And getting louder. The last 3 days he has squawked a lot more than before. I recorded some of it. I suppose I could upload it so you can hear (let me know if you want me to). It’s pretty cute. At least, I think so. Sending a copy to mom and dad.

He sits up with help. We have to prop him a bit, but he loves sitting in the crook of our arms while in the bed. And the drool. Oh lord, the drool. I think he’ll be teething fairly soon.

But he is such a joy to be around. Really mellow. He does cry when he needs something, or when he’s fighting sleep. Yet I know how much worse it could be. Even when he’s grouchy, I love being around him.

Just trying to enjoy our time with the wee bugger. Here’s hoping you’re enjoying time with your little buggers, too. Happy Love Thursday.

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bottling it up

Getting back to work, going into the office, and managing to pump between feedings is getting the better of me. The kid still eats anywhere from every 2 hours to 4 hours. Mostly 2. So it’s tough to find some time to pump, unless it’s after he goes to bed. And then I’m so tired, all I want to do is sleep, too.

But since I don’t have any in the freezer right now, I need to get some sort of schedule going. I guess right before bed is good, so I don’t wake up hurting in the morning.

I’m trying some bottles out, which I’ll review over at Safe Mama.

And I think I’ll enter the contest over at Momsational to win a sampler pack of BPA-free bottles. More to try out, because I’m not happy with the ones I bought. And they weren’t cheap, either. Bleh.

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Gums, gurgles, and goos

I’m actually getting a fair amount of sleep at night. Oh, I wake up a lot to check on the kid. When he so much as stirs, I’m awake. So my sleep is frequently interrupted. But at least I can go back to sleep fairly quickly. And that makes for MUCH better days, let me tell you.

For now, I’m telecommuting and I do love it. The babe naps while I’m working. And when I’m not working, I get to gaze into those beautiful little eyes and watch as his face lights up with a gummy smile. He’s drooling a lot, which means teeth probably aren’t far off. I’m not looking forward to those feeding times!

I knew my life would change. We all know our lives will change. People keep mentioning how nice it must be to get back to work and into the land of the living. I’d rather be at home, listening to my son practice new sounds and watch him kick so hard it looks like he’s running in place. I have a lot of friends who I can email and chat with online. Their blogs are available. I can follow them on Twitter. I can call them on the phone. Heck, I can even meet them for lunch. But the kid still gets time and attention from me during these things. I can’t do that when I’m in the office.

I never thought I’d say this, but I’d rather be home. I can’t, but I’d rather. It is what it is.

So my days consist of naps, diapers, email, and little gurgling noises coming from the bouncy seat next to my desk. And I like it that way.

Happy Love Thursday y’all. May you find what fills your heart with happiness.

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they come in threes

Right after we heard about my cousin Ray, we found that a biker friend of ours died earlier in the month. She was coming home and crashed her bike into a pole. We don’t have details at this point. But we went to the memorial service and J went on a ride in her honor. There must’ve been over 500 bikes out there. It was incredible.

But I felt a little dread, because these things always seem to come in threes. And we did hear about the third one, also back home. Sid was in his late 70s and had cancer. He was my cousin’s father-in-law and my buddy. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. He always stopped to talk to me and was so very kind. And he got to see our little boy while we were back home at Christmas. His family and wife are in my thoughts. He will be remembered fondly.

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