A letter to me:
I am doing everything I can here. Lay off, wouldya? You’re entirely too condescending of me, critical in front of the mirror, embarrassed to post the photos. I just created life, remember? The son you cuddle and enjoy? *I* grew him. And only three weeks ago we underwent major surgery to have him safely brought in to the world. Let me heal before you start judging. Let me get more than two hours of sleep in a row. Let me enjoy this time home with my family before you begin punishing me on the scale. And those three ounces of milk I’m making is something I’m proud of. I’m making food in addition to all the other things I’ve gone through so if you don’t mind, please don’t punish me for having a bit of a belly still and... Read more
Two days after we brought Baby O home from the NICU, we had both kids asleep, the bills paid, and the mail sorted so we took a few minutes to sit on the couch and feel smug. “We rawk this parenting gig, don’t we?” we said to each other. “How awesome are we?” we nudged one another. “Everyone should be like us!” we humbly exclaimed.
It wasn’t until Saturday night (or, rather, very very early Sunday morning) that Karma came to bite our ass, as Karma is wont to do. The Little Man woke up, just as we thought he might, and stayed up all night long. Read: All. Night. Long. He’s pulling the night shift these days while LB pulls the day shift and between the two of them, I half expect my brain to explode in about four... Read more
If you ever think your marriage is going splendidly and your life is really very brilliant, you should take your newborn and your toddler to Babies R Us on a rainy Saturday morning with half of Seattle on a major sleep deficit. Make sure you do it right around lunch and nap-time so you all have a meltdown. And then, inform your spouse that it’s time to pump your (albeit very ineffective) milk producing teats and try to do so in public.
It only sounds like a made for TV movie coming out Summer 2008, but it’s my life.
I recently decided to make use of the battery pack for the pump so I wouldn’t be so tied to the “MUST BE HOME IN THREE HOURS” chain that we’ve been tethered to for three weeks. What I didn’t think through, was... Read more
Today is the day my C-section was scheduled. I almost made up the birth announcements a month early leaving the weight and length as fill-in-the-blank like a Mad Libs. “Baby O makes his debut in to the world on June 8, 2007. He weighed [number] and was [bigger number] inches. Mommy, Daddy, Baby and LB are doing well.” I’m really glad I didn’t. This is why I don’t do my own illustrations.
I’ve played over the events of May 19th and 20th a million times. I’ve marveled out loud with Mr. Flinger over and over how I’d still be pregnant. “I’d still have three more weeks! Two more days! One... Read more
You know how your baby sleeps the entire time they are in the hospital and they wake up pissed off about four hours after you get home? And you know how you tell people, “I have the BEST BABY EVAH!” when you call them from the hospital and they laugh, ask how old she/he is and say, “oh, just wait…” because they know? And then you know how about a week later you call those people back pledging your life if FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY the baby would stop crying?
Yea. I remember. Now.
So, in place of actual posts, you get pictures. PICTURES! WHEE! Because, quite frankly, I’ve started three actual posts and they all end up with “Shit, baby is crying, gotta go.”
And who needs that? Here! Pictures!... Read more
I just spent 20 minutes massaging my son’s rectum with a warm wash cloth to relax his sphincter to alleviate his constipation…
..... then cheered when it worked.
I thought I’d be a much more relaxed mom this time around. I had visions of taking our new baby boy to bar-b-ques with friends at the local park, drinking a lovely cold beer and watching our youngins throw rocks in the water. I thought I’d be a lot better with the over-protective side of me that took almost a year with LB before I felt confident I could leave for the weekend and she’d still be alive when I got home.
It was a lovely thought.
Instead, I brought home a preemie, one that came with a pamphlet of instructions from NICU nurses, pediatricians and lactation specialist. If there’s one thing I am not lacking, it’s information. We have information on the dangers of his little lungs getting sick. We have information on the scary-ass... Read more