Monday, November 30, 2009

Mr. Snaffalopagus

The boy is stuffed up. I feel so bad for him. The snorting is much more frequent, which makes me laugh as I am feeling bad for him. Since there are no other cold-like symptoms, I am thinking/told this is yet another symptom of teething. I seriously feel like anything and everything can be blamed on teething. Is your baby drooling? Teething. Are you baby's cheeks flush? Teething. Is he stuffed up, chewing on his hands, not hungry, feverish, cranky? Fucking teething. I just want the damn things here already!

Anyway, the stuffed up thing sucks because these little monsters breathe through their noses while they eat. Not so easy when there are boogers the size of Montana in that tiny little nose. So he takes forever to consume one bottle since he has to try to breathe through his mouth while sucking formula down his throat. Lots o' sputtering, coughing, and spitting.

I am not kidding about the size of the boogers this kid produces. I do not understand it. How can something so small create something so big? And how does it fit in there? 'Cause let me tell you, once it is out, the dimensional math does not seem to work. And, yes, I am aware there is probably no such thing as "dimensional math." Shut it.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Will it last? Please! Please! Please!

I am afraid to say it out loud for fear of him hearing and making sure he proves me wrong, but here goes. Alex has slept through the night three out of the last four nights. Ten hours each time. Saturday night was the only night he woke up in the middle of the night to eat. I'm thinkin' the cereal is a good thing.

There's just one problem...the ten hours, yeah...they start at 6:30pm. Let's see, quick math, carry the one, that puts us at 4:30 in the A.M. for a wake up time. Oh goodie goodie gumdrops! The newest morning schedule has the boy waking up sometime between 4 and 4:30 to eat. Then we play for a bit. It would be nice if he would go back to sleep after eating, but let me tell you, 10 hours of sleep produces one well rested and ready to go baby. Sleep after eating is not an option. I managed to coerce some extra snuggles this morning, but that was only because I was rhythmically rocking him while he ate in an attempt to lull him back to SleepyTown. Snuggles yes, sleep no. The second he picked his head up and looked at me I could see it...TIME TO PLAY MOM!!! So we play. Well, he plays, I watch him play while interjecting the occasional funny face or sound as usual. Then, around 6 or so, he starts to get sleepy. So I lay him down and he takes a nap. As do I. We get back up around 6:45 and finish getting ready. It is working out pretty well. And as long as I go to bed at a decent time, I am getting some good sleep. Although I will quickly and openly admit, if those ten hours could start at 8:30 instead of 6:30, I would pee myself with happiness.

Monday, November 23, 2009

How the hell did I get here?

My life has very little resemblance to what it used to be. I went from owning a bar to working in an office. Being on my feet all day and half the night most times, to sitting on my ass. And in turn going from a tolerable size to a size I never thought I would see on the tag of my pants. Only having to care for a four legged furry lovey sweet girl, to taking care of a furry two legged sweet boy that can't eat on his own and poops in his pants. Going from "Where's the next bar?" to "Where's my couch and comfy clothes?" You get the picture.

This weekend really drove the point home. Friday night was reminiscent of my old life. We had friends over, made a lot of food, drank A LOT of wine. Alex went to bed right as friends showed up and stayed asleep the whole time. He even slept through Kari, Mariah, Molly and I playing Super Mario Brothers. I do not understand how he did it. There was a lot of yelling. Broken up only by insane hyena laughing. But because he slept the whole time, it really felt like my old life. I got to play and be loud and didn't have to feed or change a baby. But then Saturday happened.

We got up around 7. 7am. On a Saturday. We all had breakfast and got ready to go meet the Pastor for Alex's upcoming baptism. On the way home we went to Target, and aside from a few items, got nothing other than baby stuff. Went home and made dinner. Then, I was asleep on the couch as soon as the music to Saturday Night Live 10:30. 10:30pm. On a Saturday. And then? Then Sunday happened. I got up with Alex at 6am. Travis has a new, and hopefully very temporary, schedule so he was already gone for work. Alex ate and we hung out for a while. He was mostly playing in or on various baby apparatuses, I was doing laundry and dishes and making faces at him. Then he went down for a nap and I decided to work out. While peddling my ass to nowhere on our stationary bike, I looked up at the clock. 8:01am. I was working out at 8 o'clock in the morning after already being up for two hours, ON A SUNDAY.

Friday, November 20, 2009

A Testament to Preparedness

Being ahead of the game is not my usual spot. I am usually running around like my hair's on fire trying to get things done. I have never figured this out. It makes me nuts when things are planned. But even when every last detail is planned, there is always something I forget. Ipso facto: crazy hair on fire person. Example: I planned a time during our wedding reception for a garter and bouquet toss. I forgot to order a toss bouquet and couldn't find my garter that I never put on.

There is one part of my life that I have forced myself to be prepared. My mornings. As much as I hate doing it, I now make sure before going to bed that all bottles are filled, the formula portioner thingy is set, a spare set of clothes is in the diaper bag, usually my lunch is made. Also, depending on my ambition with working out and Travis's scheduled morning departure time, I will sometimes shower at night.

Most mornings having all of these things done means Alex and I have a little extra play time. Or, on some glorious days, after him eating breakfast and playing a bit, we both get a little nap before we have to go. Those are examples of most mornings. This morning however, I was laying in bed, half awake at best. Alex was in his pack 'n' play making noises that he was awake, but content. Probably examining his hands that he has miraculously found for the 14 thousandth time....they never get old for him. I was debating how long he would remain entertained when I realized something was off. It was waaaaay too bright outside. Huh, weird, I thought. Then I looked at my clock. 7:10. I'm sorry, WHAT?! In order for Alex and I to be at our designated locations on time in the morning we have to be pulling out of the driveway by 7:25. 15 minutes. Awesome.

This is where preparedness gets rewarded BIG TIME. We made it. I am still beaming I am so proud of myself. I managed to get dressed, brush my teeth, pull my hair up into something presentable, put on make-up, change the baby, make a quick breakfast and be pulling out of the driveway at 7:28. I didn't even forget the baby! I will admit I ate my breakfast in the car, but that is nothing new. And Alex went to daycare in the onesie he slept in, but he's a baby. Aside from barfing on his clothes, which by some act of everything Holy he didn't, his clothes don't really get dirty. Especially not overnight. So there.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Think she's hinting at something?

Oh my dear puppy Aiden. I love her a lot. Too much some may say. To those "some" I say suck it. She is my sweet little girl. But she may just be the final locking strap on the straight jacket that is lurking in the shadows of my life.

She is insane. This has been a known fact since shortly after we got her. She goes berserk if anyone walks on her sidewalk. She can escape at any time from a completely fenced in yard. She has broken through every screen in our living room, more than once each, when the windows were left open and we ran some errands. I realize we should have maybe learned the first time that leaving the windows open was not a good idea, but damn. She has also knocked a box fan out of a window only to break through the screen to bust out of the house and run around the neighborhood trying to figure out where we went. Oh yeah, this box fan was in a window UPSTAIRS. Meaning, she jumped off our freaking roof.

She also shreds any sort of window covering if she is scared or thinks something is amiss outside. We have gone through quite a few blinds, especially since she is afraid of thunderstorms and fireworks. July is fun in our house. Wanna see? You can because we can never have the blinds closed as they would be vulnerable to attack!

I am not sure what scared her yesterday, but ho-ly shit. 6 out of 6 of the mini blinds downstairs were completely demolished. Mini blind schrapnel in every room. One of the fancy faux wood blinds in the kitchen has bite marks that make me believe she has a grizzly bear hiding in the attic we don't know about. The sun catcher behind the blind in Alex's room; in pieces. She went ape while we were at work. I have no idea what set her off...there was no thunderstorm and I am pretty sure people are not setting off fireworks for Thanksgiving. Although they should. The amount of glorious food at my fingertips is far beyond deserving of a celebration with explosives.

Aside from yesterday, she has been amazing the past four and a half months. She loves Alex so much, and she hasn't complained once about not going to the dog park. She used to get to go to the dog park almost everyday. She has gone once since He Who Giggles and Poops A Lot has entered our lives. Once. I feel so guilty. She loves the park. You can literally see her happiness when she is there. I can't count how many times I have heard, "Wow! That is one happy dog!" from other dog owners at the park. It is her nirvana. And I am too busy/tired/brain fried to take her there. I am totally sucking in the dog owner department.

I guess I will just have to keep her in fresh blinds until we can figure out an easy way to get us all to the park.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Ha ha ha!

This kid's laugh is fantastic. The initial giggle is pretty much everything you can expect a baby's laugh to be. But the second part, the part where he is drawing air back in. That part sounds like a donkey with a sore throat.

One of the teachers at daycare keeps apologizing for tickling him so much. Apparently she has a slight addiction to his laugh. She said she felt kinda bad since it has to get annoying for him. And I was all, shouldn't bug him so much BY MAKING HIM LAUGH. If she only knew how much I pestered that kid while he was still getting cooked, she would never apologize again. Seriously, the people at this daycare are so amazing. Anyway, he is super ticklish and pretty easily amused, so extracting giggles is not a difficult task.

I am having an issue getting this video to download, so follow the link for an example of aforementioned giggles. Please try to plug your ears when the adult horribly fake laugh is audible between Alex's laughs. I realize the noise is comparable to a lion hacking up a fur ball, but it makes the baby laugh, so deal with it. That may also be why he looks so terrified between laughing. It's a fine line between scary and funny I guess.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Almost perfect

This morning was a good morning. Alex woke up around 5:30, had a bottle and was ready to hang out. He spent a good amount of time wrestling the stuffed ocotpus on his play mat....I am pretty sure Alex won, but it was a close match. Then he played around in his jumperoo for a while. There is a ball that spins and makes kind of a rattle type noise on this thing. The amount of spinning that gets done makes me feel bad for the ball. He just sits there with his chubby little sausage link fingers strumming away on that ball.

During all this play time I managed to get myself ready and my lunch made. Then I brought him into the kitchen to hang out with me while I ate my breakfast. He had a grand ol' time chillin' out in his bouncy seat whacking at this weird long skinny blue elephant thing that hangs from the overhead bar. Then the grunting started. The tell tale grunting. He was soon to become a stinky baby. Something he continues to find terribly funny. I have to admit I liked it better when his pooing schedule had him making a mess of himself while at daycare, but whatcha gonna do?

So I finish eating, he finishes pooing. Time for a wardrobe change. No pajamas to daycare today! I change his diaper, blow some zerberts on his belly, and put him in a cute outfit with a puppy on his butt. I get my coat and buckle him into his car seat. Pacifier, burp cloth and blanket all in place. On the way out, I spot the delicious peanut butter cookies Kari brought over yesterday and grab one for myself as a treat for getting everything done so smoothly this morning.

In the car on the way down our street I see it. Poop under my fingernail. Nice.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Made it!

We did it. We made it out of the house this morning without an outfit change. The spitting up this child is demonstrating lately is nothing short of impressive. It has to be some sort of defiance of calorie math that he is still growing. I don't understand how he can be getting enough to eat with how much comes back out of him! From what I gather, this is yet another symptom of teething. Which makes sense because he doesn't seem to have an upset stomach. He'll just sit there all content, and then all of sudden puke. It's gross. Doesn't seem to phase him though.

Yesterday morning I waited to get him dressed until the very last thing before we left hoping to avoid a wardrobe change. Got myself fed and dressed, got him fed early and waited as long as I could to dress him. He was in a super cute outfit. Before picking him up, I made a deal with him that he wasn't going to barf on himself or on me. I got an "Oooooaah" in response, so I figure we have an understanding and are good to go. He is not a man of his word. Not only did he barf, he managed to get none of it on the burp cloth I had on my shoulder directly in front of his face. Oh no. That would make too much sense with the laws of physics and all. No, he got it all over his shoulder and chest and a big ol' blob of formula barf on my sleeve. Awesome. So the outfit changes began. The sad part is that I contemplated, for longer than I will admit, if I could get away with not changing my shirt. For the sake of the noses of all people I would be dealing with throughout the day, I changed. For the sake of not having my kid in a puke soaked shirt all morning, Alex got changed.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Cereal Success

Based on last night's performance, Alex is beginning to understand the idea of eating. He seemed to really like the rice cereal last night. And most of it actually went down. The last couple times all but .0014 ounces of cereal have been pushed back out of his mouth. Not last night though. That kid wanted some rice cereal. Can't say I blame him. It's not half bad. It kinda tastes like a sweet communion wafer.

As happy as I am that he has started to understand what to do with the mush we are putting in his mouth, it is nothing compared to how amusing it is to watch Travis feed him. He gets so excited when Alex actually eats the cereal. Every bite that goes down is followed with fanfare comparable to Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. There's cheering and smiles and songs. Followed by a request for me to watch the next bite. Which of course I excitedly do. It is pretty cool watching him learn something.

Speaking of him learning...He once again proved me completely wrong. I swear making me look like an ass that doesn't know her kid is his main motivation. On Friday I was talking to one of the teachers at daycare and she was saying how Alex is really starting to bat at toys. I agreed and then said that he isn't quite getting the idea to grasp a toy and hang on to it yet. Fast forward to Saturday. As I am changing his diaper, he reaches over, GRABS A TOY, and pulls it to his chest. See? What do I know?

Monday, November 9, 2009

Too soon

My godfather has passed away. He fought cancer and he fought hard. But cancer sucks. It is unyielding and doesn't care who it takes away from us. I know I am supposed to find solace in the fact that he is no longer suffering. But I don't. I want him back. I want more laughs, more hugs, more time. He was an amazing man and any person he knew is lucky to have had him touch their life. It hurts my heart that my son will only know him through stories and pictures. It hurts my heart that all we have now are memories. None of us were done sharing our lives with him.

I don't think many people are as lucky as I am to have had such an incredible relationship with a godparent. I got to grow up across the street from someone who's love for me was second only to my own parents. His influence played a big part in shaping the person I am today...whether he would admit to it or not! I do know he was proud of me. He loved me enough to make sure I knew how he felt. Always knowing I had unconditional love and support right across the street was a security I didn't realize I held so dear.

I love Bob very much and am happy I got spend some time with him and tell him so before he left us. I know time will ease this pain as they say it does, but right really really hurts.

Thursday, November 5, 2009


Alex has cradle cap. Luckily he is a hairy beast child so you can't see it unless you really look for it. But it is there. And it smells. Like rotting Parmesan cheese. So he has been getting a bath at least every other day so I can shampoo the cheese stank out of his hair. And according to the doc, getting it wet and gently scratching to remove the dead skin is a good way to get rid of it faster. And that remedy allows me to let my inner monkey out and pick at my son so I am good with it. Hopefully it will follow what everyone says and go away soon. I like to snuggle this kid, and it is hard when he stinks. It's also hard because he will never sit still, but I am getting good at sneaking in kisses when I can.

Seriously, this kid is constantly moving. Constantly. Unless he's asleep. And a good portion of the time when he is sleeping he is fidgeting around. He's getting really good at getting himself turned perpendicular to how he should be laying in his crib and completely void of any and all blankets. We have tried the sleep sack thingys a couple of times, but he still really seems to prefer to be swaddled, at least at first, so those are a little tricky. They have swaddling versions of them, but they are only big enough for 10lb babies. Our big bruiser will not fit. But now we are running into the problem that he wakes up when he is no longer in baby burrito mode. No good. He doesn't seem to mind. Actually he was quite excited to see me this morning. At 2:30am. No joke. He was all smiles, giggly, arms and legs flailing with happiness. I am surprised I could see all of this through eyes that burned each time I tried to open them, but there he was...all "HI MOM! I AM SUPER EXCITED TO SEE YOU!!!" I have to admit, it made me laugh.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Who's hungry?

I am warning you. Do not go any further in this post if you are remotely hungry. You will instantly become a cannibal. There is no way to not want to snack on each and every part of this kid. Just look at him...

I told you to be careful. And you can't even see his little corn kernel toes. De-freaking-licious. Travis had to stop me from dipping them in melted butter last night. Can't help it.
And, does his hair not completely rock in the first one? He looks like a dandelion! Or a punk rock star...yeah, a punk rock star. That's way tougher than a flower.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

5lbs 'till Turkey Day

My mom and sister have made a deal that they are both going to try to lose 5lbs by Thanksgiving. Being that my ass size is no longer acceptable I am thinking about joining them on this endeavor. By the way, I finally bought the demon device. A scale now resides at my house. So I had to get an accurate start weight. Got on the scale when we got it home on Saturday. The same seizure inducing number showed up that was there when I weighed myself at my parents' house a couple weeks ago. At least we are at a plateau.

But then I remembered that you are supposed to weigh yourself in the morning. The aforementioned weigh in was in the evening. No good. So this morning I very timidly stepped on the scale. It took a lot to get me on the stupid thing. What if the number went up? Did I really want to start my day so horribly? A higher number would definitely send the entire day into a downward spiral at a breakneck pace. But I did it. I made sure we were on a level surface. Made sure to go to the bathroom before placing even a pinkie toe on that thing. No need for any bodily waste to be weighed. My mind was reeling through all the terrible for you but oh so yummy things I ate last weekend...not to mention the amount of all the terrible for you but oh so yummy things. I think I ate enough soft cheese on Saturday alone to set some sort of record. Feta stuffed tomatoes, blue cheese topped toastettes, cheesy potato fried dumplings. Oh yeah baby. And all this was after having dinner at Kari's on Friday where I was fed breaded chicken stuffed with fresh mozzarella over pasta. God I love food.

Anyway, back to the weighing. I took a deep breath and stepped on. I had to use a pliers to get my eyelids open to look down at the glaring red LED lights displaying my weight for the world to see. 5.5lbs lighter than Saturday's weight. I am almost passed out. Instead of falling over and peeing myself with glee, I moved the scale to a different spot to really make sure it was level and got back on totally expecting a different number. But no. It was still 5.5lbs lighter than Saturday. Perhaps the workouts I have been really trying to squeeze in are helping. Now if I can just get my demanding stomach under control we might actually get somewhere.

So now 5lbs by Thanksgiving will get me to pre-preggo weight. Here's to workouts and hopefully less food. I don't know that I can stop eating the deliciousness that is cheese and all things made with cheese, so hopefully the portion control part will do the trick.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Teeth and Daylight Savings can suck it.

We are pretty sure Alex is dealing with teeth coming in. I say pretty sure because nothing is physically showing up in his mouth yet. But if the other signs are not signs of teething, I am not sure my kid is right. He is drooling like mad, spitting up more, chewing his hands and his blankets and his hands while covered by his blankets, and is occasionally crying for no reason that I can see. And it's that something actually hurts cry. Not just the my parents can't figure out what I want cry. I am totally aware of that one. Not that being aware makes me any faster at figuring out what he does in fact want, I just know that he wants something and isn't in pain. But this cry is a pain cry. It sucks. Luckily Tylenol and Orajel have been easing the pain so far. He hasn't quite figured out how to hang on to a toy and get it to his mouth yet, so teething rings are a bit difficult. They're fine if someone is holding him and holding the teething device in his mouth for him, but otherwise not so much.

This is throwing a big ol' nasty wrench in his sleeping. He lays down, falls asleep, wakes up crying. This goes on over and over until the Tylenol kicks in, or his exhaustion takes over. I feel really bad for him. I am not a huge fan of pumping him full of medicine, but I am even more not a fan of him being in pain. Drugs to the rescue!

Anyway, add teeth to daylight savings time and you get one tired baby and two tired parents. Get those chompers in baby!