Monday, October 10, 2011

Harrison's Number Two

Yep, you guessed it!  Harrison now has TWO teeth!  Oh, is that not what you thought I was going to say?  Well what....oh're gross.  Anyway, H-tooth part deux is right next to the other one, so he's got a reverse chipmunk smile and as if it were possible, he is now even cuter.  He is also moving faster than ever, has learned how to get up the step from the living room to the rest of the house (very easily, I might add) and how to get back down.  That part is kind of a rolling belly-flop thing that left him looking a little stunned afterwards.  

The way Harrison is moving around can still not really be classified as a crawl.  He pulls with his arms, pushes with his feet, and does it so well that I'm not sure he still plans on actually crawling at all.  Especially since he is also pulling himself up to a standing position.  Yeah, we have lots going on right now.  

We took our third post-birth trip to Houston this weekend and he was an amazing little trooper the entire way there.  Unfortunately, he was alone in the backseat for the ride home and cried for four hours on the way back to Dallas, taking a couple of short breaks to nap and reenergize for the next stretch of crying.  That sort of killed any urge I had to drive back to Houston anytime soon.  We'll be flying next time for sure!

We are having a great time in our house.  Always lots of work to do, but it's still so much more fun than cramming our whole lives into a tiny second-floor apartment.  This weekend will be Harrison's first trip to the State Fair, soon after will be his first Halloween, then Thanksgiving.  I love this time of year, and these are all the things I was looking forward to last year at this time when I was pregnant.  It's here!  And HE'S here!  I am so happy with my life...

Thursday, September 22, 2011


This just in...on the front page of Yahoo! (as opposed to the back one), the headline is this: "Beyonce talks pregnancy changes."  In the article, she makes stunning revelations about having a heightened sense of smell, and going so far as to say that some smells even make her stomach turn.  What??? No really, read for yourself...

Beyonce descended from the palace made of clouds in heaven that we imagine she lives in to make an appearance Wednesday night at the New York launch party for her third scent (called "Pulse").  Bey was happy to discuss her pregnancy with reporters, and revealed she's experiencing cravings and a heightened sense of smell, just like non-Beyonce pregnant women have been since the beginning of time. "My nose, I smell everything from a mile away," she told the Associated Press. "Usually it is food, it is onions or something that I just can't tolerate."

I didn't make it past that first paragraph because a) I don't care, b) "Bey" does not live in a cloud palace in the heavens, or no one would be trying to go there when they die, and c) I was happy to simply take from this the irony that she is griping about smells at a launch party for her third perfume.  

In other news, Harrison has the runs.  Big time.  Maybe twenty dirty diapers in the past four days, but who's counting?  Daycare for one.  They actually called us yesterday to tell us Harrison seems fine but that he's "not feeling well."  Well, which one is it?  Oh wait, I get it.  "Not feeling well" is code for "please come get your kid and take him home because you do not pay us enough to deal with this amount of poop."  Ok, fine.  I took him home and let him play naked on the floor to air out the diaper rash and we had a good time.  

He also has a new tooth and finds it quite fascinating. He likes to twist his tongue upside down so he can feel what he's been working so hard for all these months.  Hopefully the next ones will happen a bit more quickly.  

Harrison is officially mobile now as well.  Not quite crawling, but pulling with his arms and pushing with his feet so that he gets where he wants to go (the electronics under the TV) pretty quickly, and then uses objects he shouldn't be touching to try to pull himself up.  HIs new favorite toys are things that are not toys and are not his.  The rubber spatula is a new favorite.  Remote controls are good, Daddy's knick-knacks that he is unwisely storing on a low-lying shelf.  The toy budget just got a whole lot smaller now that I can just grab something without sharp edges or small parts and hand it to him.  His eyes light up like it's Christmas and he even takes a moment to turn the object over in his hands a few times to relish its beauty and craftsmanship before putting it in his mouth.  

Ok, now honestly...of the two stories above, which one was more news-worthy and fascinating?  

The one about this:

Or the one about THIS:


Wednesday, August 31, 2011

MOVED! Ish...

We are officially in our new house!  And someday, hopefully sooner than later, it will feel like our house, and not the house of BettyWhite/Betty Davis, who not only had horrible taste (which we already knew), but also had severely questionable decision-making skills.  I'll elaborate on that shortly.

The move went pretty smoothly, actually.  I bet Peyton was a little skeptical when the three old white men I hired showed up to move us.  But they worked their butts off and did a great job and later revealed that they actually aren't old at all.  Never judge a book by it's cover, I guess?  One of them told us a story about how some 72 year-old woman thought he was her age, but he had to correct her and tell her he was only 52.  They had pretty worn book covers, ok?  It was an easy mistake to make.  Very worn.  Leathery and missing a few pages....anyway...

Instead of making all the trips back and forth with Peyton for the small stuff, I stayed at the house and painted.   The previous owner was a smoker with a dog.  Oh, and did I forget to mention she did a great job hiding the sixty-something dog pee stains with strategically placed throw rugs?  We found that part out the day before closing, when we also discovered that she had used heavy-duty two-sided tape to hold the biggest rug down, so....the carpet is making an exit soon.  Obviously.  So back to painting...first of all, I'm still trying to figure out why we didn't hire someone.  Of the three rooms we started with, zero of them are done, one has a great color, one has a decent color, and one is being repainted in a to-be-determined new NEW color.  I have to say, though, it looks a lot better than it did.  Let's just say her tastes didn't coincide with ours.  At all.  Here is a list of the colors we are painting over:

Rotting Avocado
Camel Fur
Blood Disorder
and my personal favorite...Defecated Mustard

That last one is appropriately spread all over the hall leading to the bathroom.  I will miss these colors as much as I miss our apartment.

So now that we officially live there, all the fun little things we didn't pay attention to are coming to light, and it's making our to-do list a little daunting.  But really, I could care less.  I love the house.  All the dumb little things the seller did can be fixed, and all the stupid little things she didn't do can also be fixed, and even with boxes everywhere and half-painted walls, it already looks better than it did and a lot more like us.  Well, a little more, at least.  As we were laying in bed the other night, I looked up and said, "Have you ever seen an uglier ceiling fan in your life?"  Peyton said, "Yes. In the living room."

Harrison loves his new house and could care less what anything looks like.  He has a huge living room to play in, another huge living room to eventually play in, a room that he clearly feels comfortable in, because he's slept through the night every night we've been there. (Knock on wood.  Now.)  He loves the backyard, which has lots of leaves for him to grab and put in his mouth.  The kitchen is big enough to put his jumpy in there while we cook, so he doesn't have to be alone. Now that I think about it, this is really Harrison's house and he is letting us live there too.  Sweet boy.  By the way, best compliment we've heard so far, "He's so adorable, I can't even stop looking at him."  Yeah, welcome to our world.

Now about Zoe. She may or may not be a permanent resident, it's still up in the air.  Given that the other dog already laid out the blueprint for where it's ok to pee in the house, her following in his footsteps would really just take the carpet from Unacceptable Level Yellow to Unacceptable Level Yellow-er.  But at the same time, I really find it annoying that she can spend twenty minutes in the backyard and then comes inside to poop. She's pretty much an idiot and I don't really like her they way I used to.  I know that's a sad thing to say, but it's true.  Also infuriating is when I am dieting and therefore only allowed a certain amount of food, and she jumps onto the coffee table and eats my dinner when I leave the room.  You don't mess with my when I'm hungry, I can't believe she hasn't figured that out after all this time.  So now that I've advertised so heavily, anyone want her?  She's a great dog...

This weekend, my aunt and cousins are coming to stay with us and help with little odds and ends around the house and I am SO EXCITED TO SEE THEM!  Maybe we can make all the doorknobs match while they are here.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Harrison Bought a House

Such a busy time in our lives, sorry for not updating recently.  We close on our new house on Friday and are thrilled to be moving!  I really can't get out of the 2nd floor apartment fast enough.  And as if I needed further motivation, we have become infested with tiny ants in the past few days.  We thought it was limited to the kitchen, where they have been helping themselves to fresh baked loaves of bread, dog food and some delicious leftovers, but no...Peyton saw one on the shower head today.  Good.  Drown, you stupid freeloaders!  So the ants go marching onto the list of things I won't miss in four days.  Other items include: having to move the coffee table against the couch to have room to spend time on the floor with Harrison, thus trapping anyone on the couch and making it impossible to walk through the living room without walking on the coffee table (which I have done) or doing dancer-type leaps over Peyton while he plays video games (which I do beautifully).  Also not going to miss the ethernet cable which runs from our closet, down the hall, over the half wall in the dining room and into the living room.  If I ever trip and fall with Harrison in my arms, I will sue the person responsible, which will be counter-productive, as we share a bank account, but my point will be made nonetheless.  I will not miss lugging 80lbs of anything up our hot staircase, which we have had to curtain off ghetto-style in order to not send our $275 electric bills into the $300 range. I will not miss vertical blinds, parking 30 yards away, never checking the mail because it's too hot, and having to drive somewhere to pick up deliveries.  All of these things can go to hell.  I also will not miss Zoe.  What?  Who said that?  Peyton, are you typing right now too?  I do not wish her to go to hell, though.  She probably already thinks she's there anyway.

Other changes we have made: We traded in Harrison for a baby who can sit up and it's been a dream...just lovely, I tell you.  We named him Harrison as well, so there shouldn't be any confusion.  New and talented Harrison is also eating from a delightfully healthy and 100% organic menu of avocados, bananas, carrots, butternut squash, peaches, pears, zucchini, sweet potatoes, green beans, peas, brown rice and oatmeal, and soon to include mangos.  I, as the acting chef of these delicacies, find them all to be quite delicious and so does New Harrison, who gets a little fussy if you don't feed him at the quick pace he desires.  When he isn't eating or sitting up, he is trying his hardest to crawl, but just isn't quite there yet, much to my relief.  Besides the part about him just growing up so fast, I'm really just not ready to go into 24/7 chase mode just yet.  However, he is really cute when he tries, and has started to do a little thrust-and-grunt move which he thinks is helping.  It's not.  But it does help me laugh!  Here's a video:

Harrison's New Moves

Over the weekend, Harrison also discovered the art of throwing a fit for no reason.  Up until now, we could brag about how he never cries unless he's tired or hungry or not feeling well.  Lol. And lol some more.  He now has made the connection between crying and getting picked up, and therefore spend about 90% of his waking time this weekend in our arms, while we decide how we're going to handle this in the future.  For now, if we set him down right in front of us, and make sure he's still touching our leg or leaning on us, it's not good enough.  He can and will throw himself at us with arms outstretched and burst into tears.  It's just sad and cute enough that it works for him at the moment.  We'll have to do something soon, though.  The kid's heavy!  Throw in a double ear infection though, and he can have whatever he wants for a few days.

Yeah, he's probably going to end up a tiny bit spoiled.  And yeah...I'm probably not too worried about it.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

It's too HOT to be pleasant!

Normally I would feel compelled to consider my audience and turn on my brain-to-mouth (or in this case, brain-to-phalanges) function, but I just don't feel that way today.'s my blog.  You're lucky I even just bothered to look up the correct spelling of phalanges, to be honest.  Saved myself some real embarrassment though, I must say.

So chalk it up to PMS or lack of sleep or something, but I just can't get it up for anything this week.  I don't feel like working, exercising, being nice to people, or functioning in any capacity that could be deemed necessary.  Needless to say, it's really not a good time for my bank to choose to F with me (and yet they have), for the hospital to ignore my requests to file Harrison being born with our insurance (morons), or for me to have to pick up my glamourous cube dwellings and move them to a back corner where I will be surrounded by...OMG...there are no words for these people, why would I even try to explain it?  My days will now be filled with comments about my unmarried status, Loudmouth complaining about everyone else being loud, and Afroduck calling Obama her "boyfriend".  Geeeeeeeeez, it hurts to think about!  I was just telling Peyton that I don't know how I could get through my day without the option of visiting Harrison whenever I feel like it and I think that little perk just became incredibly huge.  Who knows?  Maybe daycare will have to change our enrollment to "part time" due to all the hours I will soon be spending down there taking care of H myself.

Just to get it out of my system (which is running on fumes right now), I'm going to create a quick bitch-list, and then hopefully go about my day feeling a bit more calm and maybe even motivated.  (motivated to nap, maybe...)

1. I had a dream last night that people were assuming horrible things about me because Peyton and I aren't married and asking me questions about how old Harrison was when I abandoned him and who was going to act as his mother since it obviously wasn't going to be me.  Thanks, two hours of sleep, for filling  my head with that crap during the only period of rest I got the whole night!  So why wouldn't my j-ass co-worker choose today to make a similar comment to my face?  In real life?  Do you like how I hyphenated j-ass?  I shortened it, but left the ass word.  Nice, huh?  What a dick...

2. Here is me being sensitive about yesterday's Galleria incident.  If you're going to off yourself, do it in the privacy of your own home and don't throw yourself into a sea of ice-skating children!!  WTF! The off-the-charts selfishness of this one just KILLS ME, and I also have now lost my desire to go near the mall for a while since I have other things I'd rather have filling my head than the image of a bloody ice rink and crying babies.  (If they decide to go with the "he fell" version of the story, which I'm sure some ambulance-chasing lawyer has already approached the guy's gf about) then I will take back my rant.  But he didn't fall.  Just so you know.

3. I really am sick of it being this hot.  I mean, come on already, this is just stupid at this point.  And just to give me something else to be pissy about, there are idiots running around Dallas stealing air conditioners for the metal.  They stole ten from a church...and someone else stole some 70-something year old lady's from her house and she died from the heat.  PLEASE God, give me a stack of free passes to Hell so I can hand them out.  I'd be SO good at it right now.  Just one less thing for You to have to worry about anyway, what with American politicians giving you the middle finger every day. You deal with them, I'll deal with the local scum.  Deal?

4.  Coffee no longer tastes good to me.  This has been going on for close to two weeks and you would not belieeeeve how pissed I am about it.  My teeth are now permanently clenched, which feels amazing.  Not to mention the fact that it could very well be part of the reason for my delightfulness over the past couple of days.

5.  This is the at least the seventh blog entry I have written this week, and the only one that's getting posted because it's also the nicest.  You should have seen my rant about the stupidity of a little product called BinkySpritz.

And now it is time to go visit Harrison for the second time today.  There will probably even be a third.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Reason, Season, or Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

— Unknown

Thank you, Jamee T., for sending me this today.  I really needed it!  It helps me to sort through a lot of mixed emotions I've been having lately, which is no small task.  

Since Harrison's arrival, I've been getting pretty picky about who is in our lives.  Clearly, drug-addicts, child-abusers and the sort need not apply.  But there is this other gray area that I'm trying to wade through, and I'm not sure where to draw the line.  Sadly, even family is included in the gray, and it breaks my heart.  For them, more than for myself, but most of all, for Harrison.  He is such a wonderful baby and his personality is really starting to shine through and there are people who simply are not interested, and it's sad to me. They are missing out on so much and there are no re-do's.  I've been reaching out to the people that I feel should be, need to be, or I thought would want to be a part of his life and I'm really surprised at some of the results.  There are people in my own family who will never even meet him, and others who will only meet him once.  I'm not talking about distant relatives either.  No, "distant" would never describe someone who grew up in the same house as you, now would it?  As far as friends go, I've never expected my baby to become the center of anyone else's universe - you'd only get in my way, anyway.  But the feeling of being shut out?  Not something I expected.  

So lately, I'm a little hurt and wanting to react, but trying not to.  I'm not ready to end any friendships over it.  But I guess what I am ready to do is start figuring out which category people fall into and reset my expectations accordingly.  

In the meantime, my very best friends are living under my own roof, which is more than I could ever ask for anyway.

Monday, July 18, 2011

The Tiredness Just Never Ends.

I just did something that I've been doing a lot since Harrison was born...I wrote a whole blog entry and then deleted it because of how all over the place it was and the complete lack of sense it made.  I used to be able to just rattle off whatever was going through my mind, do a quick spell check and post.  Now I have to proofread everything very carefully and ask myself if anyone other than me will have any idea what I'm trying to say.  My brain has been partially deactivated, and I'm just now starting to realize what a huge effect that has on things.

You know what's really helpful in keeping yourself on top of things and getting through every day more or less unscathed?  Sleep.  You know what simply is never going to be in full supply again?  Sleep. You know what pregnant women THINK they are missing out on and look forward to being able to do again?  Ha! Sleep. Uncomfortable as it may be, pregnant sleep is still much more effective than post-pregnant sleep. And guess what?  You're not going to be doing much of it for a very, very, very long time.  Even when you do, and your sweet little baby is doing you the gigantic favor of sleeping through the night, you'll still wake up every time he makes a sound.  Or maybe he won't make a sound.  That will wake you up too, because WHY ISN'T HE MAKING A SOUND?  And let's just say that everything falls into place you both get a full eight hours one night...or even two or three nights in a row.  It's simply not enough to make up for all of the sleep you have lost over the last few months.  Not to mention the fact that once he's sleeping through the night consistently, it becomes ten times harder to get up with him on the nights he wakes up for whatever reason.

Yesterday, we left the house for thirty miserable minutes to go buy Harrison some new clothes.  It was 174 degrees outside, I felt sick as soon as I shut the front door behind me, and twelve seconds after Peyton put the car in drive, Harrison started crying.  As I reached for something to soothe him, I realized that I had just walked out the door with my purse in hand and nothing else.  My purse, mind you, contains absolutely nothing of importance.  You would think that after five months of practice, I would have the simple step of "pacifier - check" down pat.  Or that maybe, care and concern for my baby would lead me to grab a bottle of something for the car ride, what with the death-heat I was dragging him into and all.  But brain had shut down for the day at around three o'clock and this was well past four.  Poor Harrison. Poor everyone involved, really.

This is how life has come to be and I am trying my best to accept it and to put steps in place to make sure I come across as a functioning human being.  For example, it just took me six tries to type the word "functioning" and three of those attempts resulted in an offensive word.  Sending emails has become a scary thing.  My grammar and spelling skills are half what they used to be, which is awesome, since that's one of my biggest pet peeves.  I've come to work with half my make-up on, I frequently leave my lunch in the microwave for half an hour or more, I get up from my desk to go to the printer, and do three other things instead, none of which involve the printer in any way.  Which is fine, because half the time, when I do make it to the printer, I get there only to realize that I never hit "print".

Sad to say, I'm averaging eight hours of sleep per night.  But the nights that I sleep for eight straight hours without waking up are few and far between.  Who knows when I'll finally catch up from that first month, when I only slept eight hours total.  I would love to not know what three o'clock in the morning looks like, but it has actually become very familiar, although we are not friendly with each other.  It's also quite possible that eight hours is just not enough anymore. Taking care of a baby, as fun as it is (and it really, really is) is absolutely exhausting.  Magical too, though.

My advice for anyone who is pregnant right now:
Get a pregnancy pillow. Now.
Start writing everything down.  Your memory is NOT coming back.
Sleep when the baby sleeps.  Every. Single. Time.
Do not get a video monitor.
Daddy can do the dishes and the laundry.
If you can take a two hour nap while the baby sleeps on your chest, do it. No one is getting spoiled. Trust me.
Cry-it-out is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.
And I hate to admit this one, because I was 100% opposed to the idea...get the baby into his/her own room as soon as you can.  You're going to jump out of bed every time you hear a sigh while they sleep in your room.
Keep the monitor turned down low.  You need to hear, "AAAAAAHHHH!" You don't need to hear "Eh."

Not to scare anyone of course.  Babies are, after all, the best reason to lose sleep there is. And brain cells.

Thursday, July 7, 2011


We are house-hunting for our first house as a family, and it’s starting to hit me just how important this is.  Without sweet baby Harrison in the picture, it would be all about floors and room dimensions and fixtures and lighting.  It would be about finding just the right house to suit our taste.  He brings to light, however, that there is an entirely different angle that has to be considered as we search for our new place to live.  It’s something intangible that we can’t just list under our “needs” and “wants”.  Likewise, it’s something I can’t even really put into words. We are not just looking for a house for Harrison, we are looking for a home.  But how will we know the difference?

Growing up, my parents moved us around much more than I would have liked, and it never felt like we stayed anywhere long enough to feel attached to the place we lived.  Once, we did live in a certain house for about three years, and it came the closest to being a home to me, but once again, we moved away.  I’m not really sure what it was about that house.  I remember the day we moved in, I counted the steps from the doorway of my bedroom to the kitchen table.  It was seven.  Every day after that, I made sure to get myself to breakfast in seven steps or less.  I practiced jumping from my bedroom door onto my bed, without having to touch the carpet, which was actually lava, so I could live to see another day.  My closet door opened just the right way so that the light from it would shine on my bed instead of towards my door, allowing me to stay up late reading well after bedtime, without getting caught.  In the long, skinny bathroom with the tub at the end, my best friend and I shampooed the floor and flung ourselves to the other end, slipping and sliding into the door.  There was a big bay window at the front of the house, where we always placed our Christmas tree, and each room of the house led to another, so I could literally run laps around the inside of the house if I felt the need to, and I often did.  That was the house where we brought home my new baby brother, and hung framed paintings I had made on his walls.  I learned to do (and hate) my own laundry, and also learned that valuable lesson that dish soap and dishwasher soap are not the same thing.  Outside of our house, the streets were hilly and perfect for bike-riding adventures.  Every friend I cared to have lived within riding distance, and the neighbors without children would let us use their pools during the summer if we didn’t feel like going all the way to the yacht club.  Yes, that house was the closest to home I have ever been, and it has now been twenty-three years since we moved away, and it’s a place I still drive by every time I get the chance.  It has even been for sale a few times and my heart would race at the possibility of getting to live there again, but it would never be the same now. 

I want what I had in that home for Harrison, but I want it for much longer than just a couple of years.  So now, when we walk into a house, I try to picture all of the memories that will be created there, all the magic that will happen, all the growing up that will take place…and it has nothing to do with anything but a feeling, I guess.  Also, some practicalities, like “will we have plenty of space to bake cookies together?” and “will Harrison be able to sneak out of his bedroom window someday?” (every kid needs that option, no matter what you say.)  I try to imagine him waking up on Christmas morning and running to the Christmas tree…should he run down a flight of stairs?  Should the tree be next to a fireplace?  Will there be plenty of kids on the block so he can share his new toys?  Can the backyard be another world if it needs to be?  Is there at least one overgrown yard, hiding a run-down house so he’ll have a place to be the subject of his scary stories?  

These are all important things to a kid, things I lost too soon and never got back.  Part of keeping our house a home will fall to us, his parents, but part of it will just already be there, in whatever house we choose, waiting for Harrison to wake up its magic and bring it to life. 

No pressure.  

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Harrison This, Harrison That...

I have a friend...scratch that...HAD a friend who recently made me lose steam for blogging about Harrison.  Within an hour of my last blog post, she deleted me as a friend on Facebook and then got all passive aggressive and pretended it was an accident.  It was pretty gross.  So I'm just going to start this one by saying this:  

If you have any problem with my happiness...get lost.  If you feel like I'm undeserving of what I have...get lost.  If you resent me for having what you want...get lost.  If you can't handle me bragging to the world about the most perfect human being ever created...get lost.  If you consider me going on about how great my life is now a "rant" get the idea.  

And now that we have that out of our systems, I will go back to yapping about my child anytime I feel compelled to, and now happens to be one of those times. 

Harrison Peyton Ker...ooooh, you silly little man.  Who told you it was ok to grow up this fast?  I'd like to have a talk with them.  Within the past three weeks, he has taken to rolling over (both ways), holding his bottle himself (sometimes even using his feet), watching grown-up movies with mom and dad, recognizing certain people, reaching for us, and last but not least...."eating" rice cereal.  If you can even call it that. 

Here's my new diet plan.  Harrison taught it to me.  I'm going to strip down to my undies, grab a bowl and a spoon, and feed myself tiny spoonfuls of goo, letting at least half of it dribble back out of my mouth and into my lap.  That way, I get to taste all the gourmet delights that come my way without having to deal with the calories.  And if someone could just have a bubble bath ready and waiting for me when I'm finished, that would be pretty special.  Harrison is not a rice cereal fan.  I think he's starting to get used to it, but I read that babies sometimes have to try something fifteen times before developing a taste for it.  Awesome.  Only nine more feedings until he makes his final decision.  I think it looks like paper mache paste, and could care less if he ever wants it, but we keep trying to do what the doctor says.  Listening to him is starting to feel like listening to your parents tell you what to do.  You know they know best, but it doesn't make following directions any less annoying.  Most of his instructions are met with an internal response by me of, "Ugh! Whatever....fine."  On the outside I just smile and nod.  But in two months, when he asks how the rice cereal went, I may pretend it was great and that we didn't start vegetables three weeks early.  

Also on the list of new activities is giggling.  Harrison is now a pro at laughing, but seems to prefer to save his energy for when daddy is acting like a goofball.  Which is a lot.  YouTube video to follow shortly.  But be warned...Harrison laughing is the best thing in the history of ever, and all other things in life may seem to fall short after you experience it.  How's THAT for bragging?

I'll leave you with some photo evidence of foot-assisted bottle-holding, in case you thought I was kidding.  

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

The Grass is Greener Over Here

"Families with babies and families without babies are sorry for each other."  ~Ed Howe

Ain't that the truth?  I remember reading this quote when I was single and had plans to stay childless forever.  I saw screaming kids go running from their mothers in the mall and would take comfort in knowing that would never be me.  I remember sitting on the patio one night with Peyton and high-fiving each other for not having kids and getting to do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.  Kids, to a person without them, especially to someone who doesn't want them, look like nothing more than an unpotty-trained obligation.  They look like a commitment too overwhelming to ever consider, and a lot of the time, they look dirty and gross too.    

All of those things are true.  

What the people without children don't understand though, is how wonderful all of that stuff is.  I don't get to go to happy-hour anymore, because instead, I have to come home to an adorable baby who is bound to be doing something new and unexpected today, and needs me to take his picture.  I used to look over at mini-vans at red lights and feel so badly for the women driving them.  Poor ladies not only had to put up with incessant yapping from the back seat, they had to drive a nerdy car too.  Lucky me.  Sitting in my convertible by myself, listening to whatever I want to.  Now, I play songs by Moose A. Moose for my four month old, who probably doesn't care what's on the radio, because I like the songs.  

Everything I do for Harrison, right down to cleaning poop from places I didn't know poop could go, makes me ten times happier than anything I ever did for myself.  As I sat in the massage chair getting a pedicure the other day, I grew increasing more frustrated with how long the woman was rubbing my legs before painting my toenails because I just wanted to get home to my baby.  Who even cares if my legs are massaged?  What I have to go home to now is more rewarding and exciting and fun and interesting and fulfilling than anything my life every provided me before.  

I've been on both sides of the fence.  The thing is, people who don't want kids can always change their minds.  People who have them would never want to.  

I don't miss happy hour.  And there's beer in the fridge.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Sometimes Reading is for Stupid People

Since baby Harrison has come along, time has become so much more precious than it used to be, for many reasons.  Every minute of the day is like money being spent, and naturally, we want to spend it on things we want and need, not the things that don't matter.  

For that reason, I would like to say, that if the book I am currently reading was an actual book and not a downloaded iBook on my iPad, I would throw it out the window right now.  I have spent five-hundred pages of my life (which equals who knows how many hours) getting into this dumb story about this girl trying to figure out what killed her brother and a few other people in town.  A murder mystery, right?  Not so much.  Some idiot character in the book actually saw her brother get killed and just didn't want to tell anyone (until page 502) because it turns out, he was eaten alive by a walking corpse wearing a 3-piece suit in a cemetery.  Are you f*&!ing kidding me?!  There is a giant pile of laundry in the corner of my bedroom that needs folding!!  Oh, and by the way, he was gay and dying of AIDS but was scared to tell ya, lady.  THAT'S the part of the story she found unbelievable, by the way.  "But...why didn't he just tell me he was gay?"  Beware the FREE DOWNLOADS on iBooks.  When was the last time you walked into a Barnes & Noble and were just handed a book?  "Here.  Free of charge.  Our gift to you."  NEVER.  I should have thought of that two weeks ago when I started this..."novel".  NOTHING worth having is ever free.  

"He looked back as the creature popped out one of Nick's eyeballs, devouring it with what looked like an insatiable hunger."  

There are no words...

Anyhoo, that wasn't even going to be my point, but this just happened to me last night, while Peyton was out of town and my time was therefore all-the-more precious.  There are no less then nineteen other things I could have been doing that I would not be embarrassed to talk about today.  Now I've totally forgotten what I was going to say in the first place - which adds about ten minutes to the amount of my life this book stole from me, because that's how long I just wrote about it.  Sheesh.  

The good news is, this led me to discovering an app called Overdrive Media Console, which allows you to download eBooks and audiobooks from your local library for free.  So next time, I won't have to worry about the cost of a book, and can just read something worthwhile instead.  

Seriously...he got eaten alive.

I'm so sorry, Harrison.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

To Sleep, Perchance to Somethingorother...

Why is it that the good days fly by while the bad days seem to drag on forever?  When Harrison is in a great mood, feeling well, sleeping lots and smiling even more, it seems like the day ends all too soon, and we wish he'd stay awake just a little longer so we can enjoy him for an extra hour.  

However, when Harrison is pooping all over his jammies, peeing on the wall (or my hair), throwing up on the outfit I just put on him, trying to throw himself out of the bathtub and waking up every hour...those days last centuries.  Which means we have been living the past three days for nearly three-hundred years, which is exactly how old and tired I feel today.  

I remember my uncle sitting at the head of the table a few months ago, almost a year ago, about to toast us on our pregnancy and telling us, "You're going to be so tired you'll think you're going to DIE."  He said it with a lot of feeling, and I now know that when I'm telling someone the same thing someday, it will need to be said with all the same drama, if not more.  Because the words are simply not enough.  

I don't have much else to say today, I think I've made my point.  My brain can't be asked to come up with much more right now anyway.  You pregnant people out there - sleep now and ignore the discomfort you're feeling in the night, because it's heaven compared to what your nights will be like soon!

And to my sweet little Harrison...if you promise to do all your business on the inside of your diaper today and to save all your sleepiness for tonight, Mommy will buy you a puppy.  

Which reminds me, pregnant people...if you have a dog, get rid of it NOW.  More on that later.

This too shall pass.  For now, I'm looking at pictures of H sleeping to remind me what it looks like.  

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Taking a Deep Breath...

There is a baby at daycare that does not like to be held.  His name isn't Harrison. (Not AT ALL)  It's Brayden.   Brayden doesn't get a whole lot of attention, from what I've seen, probably because he doesn't require it.  When Peyton and I first heard that this baby was the complete opposite of Harrison, we thought, "Oh, what an easy baby he must be!"  But that really only lasted a couple of seconds.  Harrison may want to be held all the time, but so what?  Someday, he's not going to want to be held, he's going to want to go running as fast as he can in the opposite direction of us, giggling devilishly.  I can already tell he's going to be that way someday.  The kid can't wait to move. So if he wants to be held for the next 2-3 years, I'll oblige.  I'm not spoiling him, I'm letting him know he's secure, I'm comforting him, I'm making him feel safe and loved, and if it makes him one of the "high maintenance" kids at daycare? what?  We are paying them quite a bit, after all.  And every morning as we walk down the hall to the back of the daycare where the infant rooms are, everyone looks up to say, "Good morning, Harrison!"  Teachers I've never even seen in his room before.  Yesterday, when we picked him up, he was in a different classroom with the babies that crawl and being held by one of the teachers (from a different room) who loves Harrison so much, she comes to hold him every chance she can get.  Harrison is spoiled everywhere he goes, I guess.  

I could complain about having to get up with him last night to suction the snot out of his nose so he could breathe, or about how we have to drop him off in a classroom with the older kids while he waits for his teacher to arrive, and the older kids pester him.  I could freak out about them giving him the wrong formula yesterday morning and probably making his tummy hurt.  But the fact is, Harrison demands a lot of attention, and they are doing their best to give it to him.  He's going to get sick no matter what daycare he attends, he's going to be around kids who don't have me and Peyton as parents (and therefore aren't as cute...or clean).  He's going to have good days and bad days, fussy days and playful days.  It's all going to be ok.  He was fed the wrong formula because we walked in and told two people who have never fed him that he needed to be fed, and we did nothing to clarify what he eats, or to help get his bottle ready.  We just expected everything to go perfectly, and forgot that Harrison is not the only baby at daycare.  We said he would be hungry soon, and they jumped on the task.  

We almost lost our minds a couple of times, with two of us taking care of one baby.  These ladies have been nothing but patient and loving to every baby in Harrison's room, and there's two of them taking care of nine.  We don't have it so bad.  We just need to relax and learn to trust.  

In the meantime, I'm going to continue to do most household tasks with a baby in one arm, and to just smile when they tell me Harrison doesn't let them hold any other babies.  I bet they don't even want to.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Daycare (a.k.a. The Germ Swamp)

Last week, Harrison spent four days at daycare.  Tuesday through Friday.  By Sunday evening, he was sick and throwing up everything he ate.  We chalked it up to massive spit-up and took him to daycare on Monday morning anyway - other than the vomit, he seemed perfectly fine.  We mentioned it to the teacher and her response was, "Yeah, I think a virus was going around the babies last week, they were all spitting up like that last week."  (Now you tell us.)  Monday afternoon, he was sent home with a fever and instructions not to come back the next day (don't have to tell me twice) and to bring a doctor's note upon his return. 

For reasons I won't complain about right now, I have no sick time, no vacation time...nothing.  So it fell to daddy to stay home with Baby Harrison on Tuesday.  It broke my heart not to be the one at home with him, not because I didn't trust Peyton, but because I want Harrison to always know I'll be there when he needs me.  Well, long story short - he didn't need me.  Peyton did a fantastic job taking care of Harrison, who sort of looked like a faker by the time the day was over.  Really, as soon as we left daycare on Monday, he smiled and played and didn't fuss and was basically as happy as he's ever been.  And that continued all through Tuesday, along with a complete disappearance of the vomit episodes.  I'm telling you - he doesn't want to be there.  That's my boy!

Wednesday, it was business as usual and he returned to daycare, Peyton returned to work, and all was well again.  Until I dropped him off this morning.  As soon as I opened the car door to get him out, he threw up all over himself and his car seat.  I decided to take him in, if only to clean him up.  I changed his diaper and outfit, put his messy one in a bag to take home and told the teacher what had happened and to keep an eye on him.  She took his temperature and it was only 98.9, so I turned to leave, but the bag I had just put Harrison's dirty clothes in was gone.  I asked the teacher if she had seen it and she said no.  I asked the others in the area - all said no.  I searched everywhere I had been.  Nothing.  So....AWESOME.  Someone probably threw it away.  Jerks.  I left.  

When I got to the car, I saw H's paci sitting on the seat and ran back into the daycare to give it to him.  In the 3 minutes since I had been gone, a snotty-nosed older baby had crawled over to him was playing with his toy arch and practically climbing on top of him while the teachers just stood there watching with smiles on their faces.  Seriously?  Am I the only person with any reason around here?  I just told you he's throwing up.  GET THE SNOTTY BABY OFF OF HIM.  For argument's sake, let's say I didn't just tell you he's throwing up...GET THE SNOTTY BABY OFF OF HIM.  

Now I'm just sitting here waiting for the phone call to come pick him up again.  I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm actually kind of hoping for it.  I don't want the poor guy to feel badly, but I'm pretty sure that once he's home...he won't.  


Next subject, no segue.  I want to share this with everyone I know.  One of my childhood friends is going through, hopefully, the biggest struggle of her life.  There is an online fundraiser this weekend to help pay for in-home care, as she is unable to care for her new baby alone.  Long story short (both links below tell her story in more detail), she has severe epileptic seizures, around 25 per day, most of which cause her to lose consciousness.  Her baby's cry triggers the seizures, as does standing for longer than one minute, so she has had to rely heavily on other people to care for her baby.  One of her blog entries, titled "What's It Like to Be a Mommy?" is a must-read and makes my heart break for her.  If I couldn't comfort Harrison when he was upset or even stand at his crib to put him to bed each night, I'd probably lose my mind. 

The Foxhole Relief Project

Welcome to the Foxhole - Their Blog

Friday, May 13, 2011

Sooooo....Did You Miss Me?

Hey guess what?  I had a baby.  A loooong time ago.  Sorry about that.  It's just that he hates for me to blog, so I have to do it when he's not around, which is pretty much never.  What can I say? The kid likes attention, go figure.  Didn't get that from mom and dad, so he must have picked it up from my mom's side of the family.  

On Monday, Harrison will be celebrating his third month here in the outside world, where his living conditions are much larger and more interesting to look at.  (I tried really hard not to end that sentence in preposition, it just couldn't be avoided.)  So here is a brief rundown of the past three months.  I apologize in advance for our difference in opinion on the word "brief".  I just mean that it will not take you three months to read about the past three months, must be brief.  


Because Peyton and I chose an adorable cable-knit sweater jumper with matching cow booties and a hat in which to bring the baby home, we checked into the hospital on a freakishly warm 70-something degree day on February 16th with three back-up outfits to choose from.  No big deal though, it's not like everything he owns isn't adorable.  I digress.  I point this out though, as it set the tone for the day.  NOTHING went according to plan.

We checked into the hospital and within an hour, I was chained to a hospital bed in an ugly gown with an IV in one arm, an epidural in my spine, and starving to death while sucking ice chips and watching commercials for food I couldn't have.  It was sort of torture.  But I had it in my mind that the baby would be born any minute now, and I would be feasting on something delicious by dinnertime. Fast forward to thirteen hours later, and the scene remained the same.  No progress was being made, Harrison was in no mood to be born, and after one hour of really pointless pushing, I had a delightful little c-section.  I was pretty much sick during the whole thing, and completely out of it, thanks to a day of drugs, so when Peyton held a surprisingly giant Harrison next to my face for me to see him for the first time, I didn't get the rush of emotion everyone talks about, and was a little bit disappointed about it.  I wasn't happy to have a c-section, wasn't happy that I didn't get to see my baby be born, or hold him, or even experience it with at least a small amount of clarity.  It was not the ideal birth experience I had imagined by any stretch.  

In the recovery room, I fell into a drug-induced sleep and was barely able to glance at my aunt holding Harrison.  It wasn't until a few hours later, when a nurse woke me up at some crazy hour, that I was finally handed my baby and allowed to hold him and really look at him.  I was given about three seconds to see how beautiful and perfect he was, and then she was immediately yanking my gown open and showing me how to breast feed.  Um...can I have a minute, pervert?  No?  Ok, thanks anyway.  But fortunately she left us alone with him for about 40 minutes and that was the first time I got to really be with him.  The next few days at the hospital were insane.  It might be the worst place to be right after having a baby.  As soon as you fall asleep, caretakers-number 1 through 14 are coming in to take your blood pressure, hand you a pill, ask you about all your personal bathroom activities, bring you the baby, tell you you're doing it wrong, tell you the nurse before was wrong, tell you you're doing it differently but still wrong, taking pictures, taking the baby, delivering flowers, delivering gross meals.  It's endless.  And that's not even counting the visitors, but at least we liked them.  They were around during normal hours.  

By the time we left the hospital, we were nervous wrecks and had had about 10 hours of sleep between the two of us over the course of 4 days.  When we took Harrison to the pediatrician for his first visit at five days old, we looked like a couple of terrified homeless people and thanks to Harrison's gas, we smelled like it too.  We had been home for two nights and had taken a series of 30 minute naps and may have possibly eaten a meal.  I have no memory of that, though.  The doctor could tell we were about to lose our minds and did a wonderful job of talking us down and reassuring us that we were doing fine and were going to make it.  We FINALLY were able to relax after that.  What felt like seventeen years later, we walked into his two-week appointment looking like actual humans and telling the doctor everything was fine now.  I have no idea how we got to that point, but the good news is, it's been getting easier every day. 


There are no words in the universe that can be put together into any combination that will come close to preparing you for life after the baby is born.  "Your life will never be the same."  We heard that one a lot.  But that's like telling someone, "This may hurt a little," right before they get torn limb from limb.  All I can say is, we had no idea.  

After several weeks of spontaneous, uncontrollable crying from the both of us, it sort of started to sink in that in a way, we were in mourning.  That is hard to come to terms with when you're sitting there looking at the greatest gift of your life and knowing that nothing could ever top it.  But we were suddenly not the people we had just been a few days ago, and that is a lot to take.  It's incredibly hard to say goodbye to the person you used to be, even if who you are now is better.  That other person is the one you were the longest, after all.  Once I was able to just let that go, however, I was able to really fall head over heels in love with Harrison.  I loved him from the second I found out I was pregnant, a million times more when he was born, but with caution.  That last little part of the old me was seeing him as an obligation and it scared me.  Letting go of that old way of thinking allowed me to finally appreciate what I had. Now, I don't miss the old me in the least and wouldn't want to go there again for anything in the world. 


It is amazing to me how the days can fly by so quickly and stand still at the same time.  The scary first days at home with Harrison seem like another lifetime ago and I can hardly even remember how they felt.  Three short months ago.  At the same time, he has grown and changed and learned so much that it feels like if I don't watch him every second, I'm going to miss something important.  One day, we're planning who is going to get up in the middle of the night and then all of the sudden, there is no middle of the night, it's who's going to get him up in the morning.  Three weeks ago, I couldn't wait for him to be interested in his toys that he always seemed to just look beyond without seeing.  Now, I can't get him to look at me, because he's so busy watching cartoons, or batting the swinging toys hanging above him, or playing with his hands.  It feels like yesterday that we were rolling up the sleeves on his newborn jammies, and now I'm shopping for his clothes in the 6 month section.  All these things are happening so fast, but at the same time, it feels like years since Peyton and I were spending Harrison's first month at home together.  

I want to record every second and never forget a single thing, but the truth is, it's all becoming a blur almost as quickly as it happens.  There is a reason parents have 520 pictures of their baby doing nothing all afternoon.  The 2-hour long videos of my brother drooling in a swing now make sense to me.  There are things happening in those pictures and videos that only the parent can see.


I had to go back to work this week and now it's time for me to try to find a balance between my old life and my new one.  Unfortunately, "life" goes being bills and work and ugly co-workers and stress that has nothing to do with babies.  You know, all the stupid stuff.  In a way, it matters so much less to me, but at the same time, it's twice as important because Harrison needs us to be successful for him and to provide everything he needs.  Or doesn't need.  (Seriously, how can you not buy your kid everything he wants? It's FUN.)  But just because I have to mesh these two worlds together doesn't mean I have to like it.  Now more than ever, I think America sucks.  The insurance companies suck.  Maternity leave is a JOKE.  The country's priorities are so messed up it's embarrassing.  There is no support for families like there is in so many places around the world.   Places that know people need to relax, moms need to be at home with their babies for longer than six barely-paid weeks, and life doesn't revolve around work, it revolves around family.  But this is where we live, and now I get to pay strangers to spend more time with my baby than I do, letting him sit in a bouncy seat and stare at a wall while they calm someone else's crying kid.  

I haven't gotten to the "acceptance" stage on this one yet.  But today is Friday and I made it through my first week.  Now comes the time I live for - two days of uninterrupted fun with my new favorite person on the planet.  And the guy he replaced, of course.  Who will never really fall to second place.  He's just # 1.5 now.  Love my little family. 

Monday, February 14, 2011

Captain's Log - Valentine's Day?

I am sitting at my desk at work for the last time before BabyKer's arrival (which will be forced, because as I predicted previously, he would be really early or just not want to come out at all - that's my boy).  And yes, I should be working and I have been and will be, but I'm taking a breather right now.  My counterpart left me high and dry today and decided to take today off, knowing I would have to cover for her and that I would already be incredibly busy wrapping things up.  Not going to miss her.  At all.

I know lots of people have money on when this baby is getting  here and I hate to disappoint all of you, but I have not had so much as a single contraction, not a pain, a cramp, or any sort of feeling whatsoever...he's being induced on Wednesday morning, and that is the day he will be born.  So if you picked that day, you win.  You cheated, but you win.  As for me, I have lost interest in being pregnant.  Ever.  BabyKer will be an only child.  If he really, really, really wants a brother or sister, we'll go get him one from another country and I will throw in a steak dinner for that baby's "gestational carrier" as a thank you for doing the work.  Another idea...I'll convince him that the family dog is also considered a brother or sister and we'll get him a puppy.

I do realize that my pregnancy has been "easy" and "boring" by all medical standards and I can appreciate that.  It's great news.  It also tells me that I am not cut out for this and if I happened to have a future pregnancy that wasn't so easy and boring, wouldn't want to be around for these final days, trust me.

So as I sit here with yet another bad case of heartburn and a hip bone that pops in and out of place, I could not be more excited to meet this baby.  I have a long list of selfish reasons why, but first and foremost, I'm just ready to see that he's healthy and happy and cute and to not have to wait a week between doctor visits to be reassured he's even alive.  I would also like other people to get the chance to hold him for a change too, I'm not going to lie.

Also coming to a close are my pig-like eating habits.  I was 100% focused on my health before, and I now will be again.  I made sure BabyKer will be a lover of all things sweet, and now my job is done.  Back to fish and veggies.  Sorry, ice cream, I'm breaking up with you.  After Wednesday of course, I still have today and tomorrow.  Other things I get to welcome back into my life?  Steaming hot bubble baths, entire glasses of wine, beer on the patio, sushi, turkey sandwiches, tuna steak, painting my toenails without breaking a bone, daily cups of coffee, is about to be so great!  Maybe we'll even remember to celebrate Valentine's Day next year, who knows?  We're thinking of today more as "LAST DAY OF WORK DAY!!" which is even better.

For the moment, even though you think otherwise, BabyKer is still BabyKer, despite what Peyton may have told you.  :)  Yes, we picked a name, and yes...he couldn't wait to share with some people....but there are still a few people in our lives who might say something negative about it and sorry...I'm not giving them the chance.  His name will be revealed once and for all on Wednesday.  Which is hopefully also the day we can decide on the middle name. Or throw everyone for a loop and name him something completely different than we've ever mentioned.  *Insert evil laugh here*

Until Wednesday (or probably later)...I'm busy that day.


Thursday, January 27, 2011

Because I Said So

BabyKer is a really good baby who has already learned to respect and obey his parents, which makes me very happy, and also comes with some really good news.  BabyKer is HEAD DOWN.  I love this kid!  He was like, "Mama, I don't know if I even want to be head down, but because you're my mommy and I love you, I'm going to trust you and do what you say."  And I said, "Ok, BabyKer, you do that.  And keep up the good attitude."  He promised he will.  Little genius.  

So now that he is head down, we can finally get started on the super-quick, painless process of getting him here into the outside world.  I'm one centimeter dilated.  It would be really nice if I went back next week and it was five, but I've been asking for a lot lately and getting it, for the most part, so I'd hate to be greedy.  Just going to take deep breaths and relax and wait happily for our (that's for you, Peyton) cute little son, who is now twice verified as being a boy, by the way.  Thank goodness for that too.  We also got to see his face from a kind of up-his-nose angle, so he looks like a little piggy-baby in his picture.  It's adorable.  I can't wait to meet him.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Twenty-Two Days...

You know, there just doesn't seem to be any way to gain fake energy from a beverage without suffering massive heartburn.  I would kill for HALF a cup of coffee right now, since sleeping no longer happens, but unfortunately, my insides would dissolve and I would die a painful, burning death without ever getting to find out if BabyKer is going to do the right thing and turn over.  So far, he has not.  In fact, for the past two days, he's been trying to see just how far up he can get his head to go.  You would think my ribs and lungs would act as a road-block, but BabyKer likes a challenge, so we can add "not breathing" to the list of things I'm not going to miss soon.  Very soon, I hope.  

The baby shower was this past weekend and my aunt and friend Betsy did an amazing job.  I was very happy to eat cupcakes and not play silly shower games, and also to get to meet a few people and see some that I do not see enough.  I had a great time.  Who knew standing around talking could be so exhausting though?  WOW.  As far as grandma's behavior comment.  Let's just say, if she managed to corner you and share her thoughts on mine and Peyton's intentions (or lack thereof) to get married, then I apologize.  I've only heard from two people so far, but you never know.  Also, do NOT have a boy's name, it is unisex and it fits you perfectly.  I need to change the subject before I work myself up.  

Coming home to a room full of much needed and very much appreciated baby goodies made it seem a little more real.  His room is starting to look like his room, and not just an afterthought room filled with leftover furniture.  Hopefully, I'll be painting it this weekend, because if I don't do it then, it's probably not happening.  Like - ever.  

In the meantime, I have a lunch hour nap to take.  Over and out.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Pee and Stuff

Well...we have about four and a half weeks to go - and guess who decided that being head-down, like he's supposed to be, just wasn't fun anymore?  Yep.  Two stubborn parents apparently make equally stubborn babies and he his now resting his little head on my ribs.  My doctor told me that maybe she's wrong but she doesn't think so, and then told me NOT to Google breech babies.  Which, to me, tells me that there is something she doesn't want me to worry about.  So I came back to work after my appointment and Googled breech babies.  I get on my own nerves sometimes.  She was right, I should not have read all that.  However, we're just going to hope he's a good little boy and goes back to where he was (and soon) so that I do not have to wallow in a new set of fears.  Ultrasound in two weeks - he has two weeks to make me proud.  MOMMY DOES NOT WANT A C-SECTION! 

In the meantime, we have boxes to unpack that seem to go on forever, a shower to go to pretty soon, and maybe someday we'll even start looking into daycares and pediatricians.  I used to be so good at planning things.  What on earth made me stop now, of all the times in my life...?  I've even influenced my unborn baby to not plan ahead.  

Zoe seems to be liking her new digs enough to not pee all over them for now.  She (so far) has the run of her new home while we are not there, and she's either holding it all day, or doing a really superb job of hiding her little indiscretions.  However, I am spending much more of my day walking around in freezing temps waiting for her to sniff every blade of grass we encounter, but whatever works, right?  The concept she clearly has not grasped yet is that Peyton lives with her now, and so he gets five times the greeting I do when we walk in the door.  For me it's, "Oh heeeey....*yawn*'re home, huh?  That's nice."  Peyton gets, "OMG, OMG, I thought I was never going to see you again, but you're here, you actually came back! Let's HUG!"  Cute. She forgets who feeds her, obviously. 

As far as hoping the baby comes early, I think I've changed my mind.  For today at least.  I just realized yesterday that all of the things we do without thinking about them or planning ahead are coming to an end.  Like deciding to go out to eat at the last minute.  Or going to bed early because we're tired.  Or watching a movie all the way through.  Or wearing the same shirt for six straight hours without getting any pee or poop or spit-up on it.  You know, all the luxuries that we don't even know are luxuries just yet.  I think I need every day I can get right now to bask in them.  But I reserve the right to change my mind once again when I can't tie my own shoes later today.