Thursday, January 29, 2009

Poop, lots of Poop

My kid just projectile pooped on me. I had to dig seedly orange/yellow crap out of my wedding band. Festive.

I did this to myself...

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Dogs are dum

Thanks to J for passing this along. It's sort of how I look when someone puts a plate of cupcakes in front of me.

This is why dogs are stupid. No cat would ever tolerate this sort of nonsense.

Life would be easier if you could wear your kid like a backpack...

Not to brag, but there's very little that I find intimidating. Or rather, there's very little that I find so intimidating that I actually experience anxiety.

Fast forward to this morning.

The little one has her first doctor's appointment. Aside from the fact that I have to take a cab (which meant I had to do extensive research on how to secure the car seat in a cab, without the base and only the seat belt); I also had to deal with an ice/rain/slush mess outside. So while I have zero problem presenting to senior level executives at work, I had a near mental meltdown over how to get to the f'ing doctors office which is probably less than 2 miles from my house.

The peanut was not cooperating in the crying department so we had to do some quick comfort feeding before I called the cab. (I feel like all I do is whip out my boobs these days.) Then I had to remove a layer because she looked so pitiful and hot. (She sort of resembled that kid from A Christmas Story in the snow suit) Then I had to dig out my duck boots because of the 6 inches of slush I could see at the edge of every curb. So I chucked the kid in the car seat, slapped a paci in her mouth so she didn't freak out and bundled her up. Praying that slugging this car seat around wasn't going to pop open my stitches, I was off to the lobby.

I made it into the cab and got her seat strapped in with help from the driver and I was feeling pretty good (that guy totally got a good tip). I get to the pediatricians and I'm thinking I'm doing pretty well because I'm only a few minutes late. That's when they tell me that my appointment wasn't for another 2 hours. Not 11:45, it was 1:45. Nice. Thankfully they were able to take us early. Husband texted me to get status...he thought the appointment was for 9:30. You would think between two relatively intelligent people we would be able to get our shit together. Yea, not so much.

On the upside, I have birthed an amazon. She's gained her birth weight back and then some. She's also grown almost an inch in length. 90th percentile! I don't find this shocking because her father is 6'3" and her mother has weird long arms and legs like a freaky monkey. Yes, that's right people. A freaky monkey.

Monday, January 26, 2009

A Baby Story

You know what I hate about TLC A Baby Story? It all about the drama. Perhaps it's the fact that they put me on a table, cut me open and called it a party that I didn't experience this sort of dramatic birth... I don't know.

One other thing to note (and I can't really take credit for this, my BIL's brother pointed it out) every other kid is named Mia or Ava.

Dear Lord, tell me why this woman has her newborn in a pink tutu? My child hasn't worn anything but footie PJs for the last 2 weeks. Does it make a difference that they're nice PJs?

Monday, January 19, 2009

Husband Quote of the Day

Upon seeing me sitting on the couch breastfeeding for the 300 millionth time today..."I'll bet you never thought you would have a job that was entirely about your boobs..."

Friday, January 16, 2009

Happy Birthday to Me

Tomorrow is my 33rd birthday. I celebrated today by doing several weather appropriate, yet exciting things...

1. I assembled a vibrating chair.
2. I ordered 3 nursing bras and another highly attractive nursing top.
3. I called Target, got lost in their phone system and then finally figured out that their website had cancelled my order because it has problems with accepting multiple gift cards on a single order that ends up shipping at different times.  
4.  I went through a pile of crap on the kitchen table.
5.  I let my kid's butt air dry to avoid diaper rash and she peed all over the changing pad when I wasn't looking.

At least tomorrow is Saturday and we all get to sleep in.  Happy Birthday to me!

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Done and Done

It's funny how things never happen the way you would like them to happen. Or maybe they happen how they should and we're just all idiots who don't want what's good for us. Either way, I've spent the last 6 days jacked on Percocet so perhaps this is just one giant drug induced Ginsberg crazy moment.

Despite my crusade for a non-medical birth I had the most medical birth possible. It all started with my bionic uterus and the fact that the cervix was doing nothing. And then nothing. And then more of nothing. For 10 days past my due date it was on strike. On day 10 they decided to try to smoke her out. Introducing....the super tampon. So super was this tampon that it guessed it - nothing. We decided to try one other drug and as predicted, it did absolutely nothing.

It was at this point that my OB noted that people who are most disappointed in their birth experiences are those that try every drug in the book, spend 2 days in pain and then end up exhausted and have a section anyhow. I consider myself a logical person. If you tell me that most people respond to a drug and those that do not respond likely end up with a C Section, well then statistically speaking I will probably be one of those people.

So I cut my losses and we were off to what Dr. Dave refers to as "the party". I guess if you have to be sliced open you want the guy who thinks it's a party to be doing the cutting. Of course husband used the new little Flip to film her arrival. His exact quote was, "I didn't film them cutting you open, just the part where there was a head sticking out of your stomach.". Awesome. I have not watched it yet. When you've been stitched up like a Thanksgiving turkey it's nice to remain blissfully unaware of what actually caused all the pain.

In case you were wondering, the party kind of sucked. The spinal made me feel like someone was sitting on my chest. There was no blissful moment when I looked at my child. I only wanted air in my lungs. I was assured by the nice man who made me feel like a paraplegic that this was totally normal. I don't recall those people on TLC having breathing problems.... They gave me some serious pain meds. I suspect it was morphine. I apparently sent a delusional email to my friend the next morning while totally high out of my mind.

The hospital was everything I thought it was going to be - hell. Scary roommate #1 who was eventually replaced with the "Jesus loves me" roommate. I felt somehow robbed that a bunch of evangelicals weren't praying over my child and for the speedy recovery of my hoo ha. The nurses were generally a mixed bag. I had two that were ok, one that was the devil and my girl Sherrie who saved my from self destruction. Sherrie found me the morning after the devil took care of me. I was off my pain meds (the devil forgot to ask me if I wanted any) and out of my mind. Think hysterical woman with hysterical child and neither has had any sleep. Sherrie introduced me to two Percocet every four hours. Sherrie is my friend.

I'm now home and managing. My mother is staying with us for a little over a week. She has convinced me that I need to be walking around air drying my nipples between feedings. I feel like a strange modern version of National Geographic in nursing pyjamas. I am now a slave to a crazed 8 lb 14 oz milk drinker. I think she might be mean. I wonder where she gets it....

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Holy Sanjay Gupta

For as long as my husband has been in this country, he has had a man crush on Sanjay Gupta. He jokingly said we should name our first born Sanjay Gupta...which goes well with our last name. I had to laugh when my friend Kajal wrote about her husband's obsession with him as well.

So this brings us to present and this is why our boy Obama is a little slice of genius. Sanjay Gupta as the Surgeon General. Sounds a little crazy doesn't it? Let's consider the recent past - look at these people to your right. Does the average person have any frickin clue who they are? Those are the last 5 appointed Surgeon Generals of the United States. Honestly my first thought was "isn't that one dude Colonel Sanders from KFC?". Yes I'll admit I'm being an ignorant ass.

Now let's think about our boy Sanjay. Good looking Indian doctor who already has rock star status, he's accomplished and apparently most men have a crush* on him. I'm having visions of him and Obama jogging together. They're not like our boy Bill who was known to enjoy a cheese burger, or 10. This is certainly more interesting than the Caroline Kennedy debate. Know what I mean?

*Obviously this is based on my extensive research and significant sample size of my husband and Kajal's husband.

Monday, January 5, 2009

I am Slug

One week overdue and counting. I have assumed the role of house slug. Rolling myself off the couch for water seems far too laborious so I've just begun asking husband to do it. I've constructed myself a pillow nest on the couch and decided that wearing pants it overrated. I have seen every bad movie that cable has to offer. I also watched part of Stars on Ice. Who thought it was a good idea to put a bunch of male figure skaters in what appears to be assless leather chaps and let six of them do modified partner dancing? Maybe this would be ok if they were hot, sadly they were not.

I try to make it out of the house once a day. That doesn't always work. Saturday we made it to The Belgian Cafe for dinner and then onto the Ritz to see Rachel Getting Married. Husband and I were divided on our enjoyment of the movie. He said he sees enough narcissists and doesn't need to watch them when he goes to the movies. I like Anne Hathaway because she's awkward and weird. She was exceedingly awkward and weird in this movie so I was happy. Sunday night we watched The Diving Bell and The Butterfly. Worth an evening of depression.

I have attempted all manner of child eviction. Ginger, eggplant, oregano, acupuncture, etc. For those of you who suggested I have a spicy curry, you can kiss my ass. I would rather be 11 months pregnant than have stomach acid shoot out of my throat and into my lungs. That is a pain I will not miss. Nor will I miss the unnatural relationship I have with the economy size bottle of Tums I carry with me.

Sadly this child has an eviction date of Wednesday night. Today's belly lube and nether region violation resulted in the decision to smoke her out later this week. Apparently we'll start the festivities Wednesday evening with something called Cervidil. Think: Tampon with special sauce. If I'm lucky this might put me in labor. If I'm not lucky I get a nice helping of Pitocin in the morning. Despite my desire for a non-medical birth, I'm not insane and I don't plan to try Pitocin without an epidural.

Keep your fingers crossed that our little friend decides to wise up and make an exit on her own over the next two days.