I am at grad school for the next week doing my first of four semester residencies. Because my little one isn't weaned yet, they let me bring him and a 'child care aide' who we'll call Maddie :)
Getting here was interesting.
We spent two days in the car, and what should have been a 16 hour trip took (if you don't count the hotel room semi-sleep time) approximately 21 hours. We took turns driving, and I honestly think we both prefer the driving to the time in the back seat with Owen. He did really well for some periods of time, and he slept a few times, too. But mostly he was pissed. I imagine his thought process to be something like this:
You guys suck! Why am I in this stupid seat again? You just took me out 8 minutes ago, and all I got to do was lay on my back and get a clean diaper before you threw me back in here?! Are you insane?!?!? Why do you hate me? Why do you torture me? LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU EVIL BITCHES! This is a severe injustice you are inflicting upon me. This is egregious. I demand satisfaction!! Fucking hell, this is so wrong!! I need to crawl and play and try to pull things down on my head and put things in my mouth all day, not sit wedged in a plastic seat with polyester lining! I HATE YOU!!!
And I totally agree with him. It's horrible and evil and mean, and I don't blame him for being totally miserable. Especially since he spent the first hour of the trip sitting in 2 inches of juice because his sippy cup leaked and I didn't know it. And he also spent an hour or so in a pile of poop diaper because it didn't smell and Maddie didn't know it was there. Poor little fella.
I will, of course, try to exact a little sympathy for me, since I got injured. Maddie, who is new to driving a stick shift vehicle, jolted the car while pulling out of a parking lot and I had already started nursing O, so he bit down and I screamed and he cried and I discovered my nipple was bleeding...
Not fun.
a teeny blurb about me
- another clueless mom
- I am a 32 year old first time mom who is continually shocked at how much those baby books and doulas and midwives don't tell you about having and raising kids...let me tell you, it's a lot!
6.24.2011
6.14.2011
Tuesday's Take
Ok, so it doesn't sound as good as Photo Friday, but I wanted to put up some new pics of my cutie pie. And I am too tired and too stressed to write much, so pictures seemed the easy way out :)
Snuggling with Aunt Pandy
BOTTOM TEETH!
Chubby baby legs are so fun to pinch!
I got a cell phone Chelsea! Mwuah-ha-ha!
Nom nom nom!
Yeah, I like hip hop. What about it?!
I have orange toes like Chelsea does! Yay!
6.11.2011
Changing Again (Me, This Time.)
My body is changing again. Altering itself based on what my baby needs, and takes, and what he doesn't.
He doesn't nurse as much anymore, now that he (messily and with great angst) feeds himself pasta wheels and chicken chunks and peas. So my once bouncy-flouncy milk-makers have shrunk back to their pre-pregnancy proportions...except now they are flat and lifeless like deflated bicycle tires. Ugh. No amount of underwire will save them at this point. I look down at my cleavage and am surprise to find that I don't really have any to speak of anymore. So sad.
Also, with much dismay and without preparing for it, I have rejoined the ranks of womanhood. And let me just tell you that it is NOT going well. I was having these nice, cramp-free, pantyliners-only kinds of periods before I got myself knocked up. They were brief, easy, and painless. This period, however, is like their evil stepsister. I should have bought stock in Tampax. Hell, I should have bought some Tampax! I was not ready for this, and it's distinctly unpleasant. I should have seen it coming, I guess, but I was living blissfully in my world without menstrual cycles.
One good thing is the weight loss. Thanks to Weight Watchers, and my dutiful adherence to its principles, I have lost about 26 pounds so far. This is a wonderment that I do not get tired of talking about. I am halfway to my goal of losing 50 pounds, and I feel pretty damn great about it. I still get to eat pizza and milkshakes (on OCCASION, mind you) but I am rapidly approaching the day when my pre-preggie fat jeans will fit again...and then, oh heavenly joy, my skinny jeans will fit me someday, too!! It's delightful to see myself slowly but surely shrinking to a healthy and acceptable size. I don't need to be a size 4. I just need to be a good size for me. Like an 8/10 :)
The one teensy problem with losing this weight (and I do hate to be a beggar AND a chooser, here) is the floppy body it leaves behind. I grew this monstrous large belly, and my skin had to stretch itself to accommodate. Now the belly is shrinking, but the skin is hanging out, confused, wondering where to go. I have gone from preggie tummy to fat tummy to smaller but floppy/flabby tummy. It's odd, and disconcerting. I never expected to have flat abs, nor do I need to. I am not a super model and I don't aspire to be. But this drooping mass is interfering with my plans of maybe someday wearing a bikini again.
Wow, having a baby really does a number on you.
He doesn't nurse as much anymore, now that he (messily and with great angst) feeds himself pasta wheels and chicken chunks and peas. So my once bouncy-flouncy milk-makers have shrunk back to their pre-pregnancy proportions...except now they are flat and lifeless like deflated bicycle tires. Ugh. No amount of underwire will save them at this point. I look down at my cleavage and am surprise to find that I don't really have any to speak of anymore. So sad.
Also, with much dismay and without preparing for it, I have rejoined the ranks of womanhood. And let me just tell you that it is NOT going well. I was having these nice, cramp-free, pantyliners-only kinds of periods before I got myself knocked up. They were brief, easy, and painless. This period, however, is like their evil stepsister. I should have bought stock in Tampax. Hell, I should have bought some Tampax! I was not ready for this, and it's distinctly unpleasant. I should have seen it coming, I guess, but I was living blissfully in my world without menstrual cycles.
One good thing is the weight loss. Thanks to Weight Watchers, and my dutiful adherence to its principles, I have lost about 26 pounds so far. This is a wonderment that I do not get tired of talking about. I am halfway to my goal of losing 50 pounds, and I feel pretty damn great about it. I still get to eat pizza and milkshakes (on OCCASION, mind you) but I am rapidly approaching the day when my pre-preggie fat jeans will fit again...and then, oh heavenly joy, my skinny jeans will fit me someday, too!! It's delightful to see myself slowly but surely shrinking to a healthy and acceptable size. I don't need to be a size 4. I just need to be a good size for me. Like an 8/10 :)
The one teensy problem with losing this weight (and I do hate to be a beggar AND a chooser, here) is the floppy body it leaves behind. I grew this monstrous large belly, and my skin had to stretch itself to accommodate. Now the belly is shrinking, but the skin is hanging out, confused, wondering where to go. I have gone from preggie tummy to fat tummy to smaller but floppy/flabby tummy. It's odd, and disconcerting. I never expected to have flat abs, nor do I need to. I am not a super model and I don't aspire to be. But this drooping mass is interfering with my plans of maybe someday wearing a bikini again.
Wow, having a baby really does a number on you.
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