Friday, March 27, 2009


Remember how the other day turned out to not be One of Those Days? Well, it must have been foreshadowing; today is One of Those Days. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of her crib. My goodness, how can something so tiny be so horrible?

Don't worry, I still love her. But I wouldn't mind if she slept for the next three days.

Too Much Information ahead, all ye men and women who don't want to know these things:

I think all bra manufacturers should be taken out and shot.

I was a *funky size before having Grace. Now I'm a freakishly funky size. I went to Motherhood Maternity the other day hoping they'd have nursing bras in sizes that actually accommodate the boob explosion (hah! I kept writing "sexplosion" by accident) most women undergo after they have their babies. HAH! I am so naive. Their sizes are EXACTLY THE SAME as what's carried in stores for non-nursing mothers. I was a 32E pre-Grace. I'm a 34F/G now. They have 34D and 36E.

I know you can order bras online, but I won't shell out $30 for something I've never tried on, especially if that something is a bra. Why? Well, I finally found a size that sort of-ish fit. Kinda. Tried it on in a different style (same brand!), and ended up looking like I had four boobs.

I'd like to round up all the CEOs of all the bra manufacturers and retailers in the world and force them to wear XXXS jock straps for the rest of their lives.

*I actually don't think I'm all that weird a size. Most people I know who've gotten fitted by someone other than a Victoria's Secret lady have sizes that fall outside the "normal" range.

Oh my gosh that child is so TIRED and SAD and GRRRR but she WON'T SLEEP WHY WON'T YOU SLEEP, MY CHAMPION SLEEPER, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Poor thing. I'm irritated with her, but I do know that it's not her fault. It's not like she's old enough to purposely stage a rebellion. She's miserable, and that's all she knows.

I blame it on her vaccines yesterday. Which makes no sense because she was the picture of sunshine then. Maybe it's a delayed effect. I don't know. But I've given her Tylenol until it started coming out her ears, and I'm afraid to give her any more because I'm not too keen on my kid having liver failure, no matter how many last nerves of mine she is on.


The Child is sitting up now. Kind of. Well, she CAN sit up, but when she does it looks like she's been drinking. And NOW she's cool with Tummy Time. Now that I've stopped stressing about it (thanks, Kemma). Now that it's almost a moot point. Sure, it'll help with crawling, but I would be happy if she didn't learn to move around for another year, so I'm a little irritated by that. It's pretty hilarious to watch her flail around on the floor when she gets all excited over a toy and then OOPS! she rolls over and looks at me with surprise and anger, as if I had anything to do with it. Thankfully, though, I can stop worrying about her rolling onto her stomach in the night and not being able to roll back over.

We got cable. Soaps and infomercials and obnoxious kids' programming is pretty much all we get during the day. That's probably just as well, or I'd be spending all day every day gaping at the TV while The Child played with plastic bags and razor blades.

I watched Lost and was all whoah!, but I'm not going to write about it now. The Child needs love.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

We should crate train her

Mother of the year so far: Let your baby chew on her nasal aspirator (the snot blaster). She is obsessed with that thing. I think it's the bright blue. Or maybe she's just trying to conquer her fears by becoming intimately familiar with her torture devices. Or maybe she just likes to chew on anything and everything in her path. Like a puppy. I gave birth to a puppy.

Baby fever has passed. Thank goodness. I still want another one, but I don't WANT another one. For a week or so, though, it was pretty much the only thing I could think about.

Also, I have not eaten the baby. Yesterday turned out not to be One of Those Days. But have you seen those cheeks? It's still pretty tempting.

I woke up this morning with a wicked headache. This actually happens a lot, but it's usually just tension in my neck and shoulders that goes away a few minutes after I start moving around. I've tried everything to fix that, including sleeping in uncomfortable turtlenecks to keep my neck warm, but it doesn't help. Anyway, this wasn't a tension headache. And it wasn't a migraine, either. It felt like my brain was six sizes too big for my skull; every time I moved my head, it just throbbed. I popped three ibuprofen, drank a ton of water and coffee, got the baby and hoped and prayed she'd take forever to eat so I could just lie there while my headache went away. If only I could be so lucky. She chowed in record time and then started playing with my face.

It finally went away after about 45 minutes. I wish I knew where it came from. I don't often get inexplicable headaches like that; they're either migraines or from tension. They're actually a lot like the headaches I got when I was first pregnant with Grace. No, I'm not pregnant again. I already thought of that.

The house is a total pigsty. I spent hours the other day picking up, doing laundry, cleaning toilets, and everything was shiny and wonderful. How can it possibly be so messy in just a couple days' time? It's not like Grace is tearing around the house yet. And James is very neat. So that leaves me. Or Cat. I think I'll blame Cat.

James was gone last night. I made the mistake of reading some Stephen King short stories before bed. In my haunted house. Alone.

That was bad enough before we had Grace. I'd lie awake in bed, planning how best to defend against disgruntled ghosts (To fellow Supernatural fans: I don't own a shotgun. Or rock salt. Must get on that.). Now I imagine myself tearing out the eyeballs of a crazed serial killer before he can get to the nursery or distracting the ghost in the attic long enough to keep it away from Grace until the sun comes up. I'm such a dork.

I always forget how much I hate this time of year. Wisconsin teases us with a few spectacularly beautiful days, and then craps all over us for the next month. I just have to keep reminding myself that warmer climates have terrifying insects and spiders the size of my face.

A few days ago James brought up the Yellowstone Caldera. I'm not a fearful person, but now I'm obsessing just a little bit about the demise of North America under sheets of ash and liquid hot magma. I alternate between being scared and a little excited about such a spectacular natural disaster. I keep thinking, "This would make and AWESOME movie." And it would, if it were done right. If it ever is a movie, though, I'm sure some idiot directors and screenwriters will cheese it up like Volcano from the late '90s. I must admit, though, that I loved that movie. I think it was Tommy Lee Jones that did it. They better just not make it as bad as The Day after Tomorrow.

Oh, I just checked. There IS a movie about it: Supervolcano (tagline: "Scientists know it as the deadliest volcano on Earth. You know Yellowstone."). But it's a docudrama. Blah. I want a movie with over-the-top special effects and a thin plot and fun actors. Docudramas bore me.

I'm off to write a really bad screenplay.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Coping mechanism

To the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star":

Tickle, tickle, little baby,
Won't you taste so good with gravy?
Nestled in your crib so sweet,
Curled up like a slab of meat,
Tickle, tickle, little baby,
Won't you taste so good with gravy?

Tickle, tickle, little baby,
I think I will eat you, maybe,
When you kick me in the chest,
Think how you will cook up best,
Tickle, tickle, little baby,
I think I will eat you, maybe.

Chomp-chomp, chomp-chomp, little Grace,
You have cherries on your face,
Though you look so innocent,
Mama's sanity has a dent,
Chomp-chomp, chomp-chomp, little Grace,
You have cherries on your face.

New verses added daily/hourly, depending on the day. And today is shaping up to be One of Those Days.

(Credit where credit is due: Though I've been making up eating-my-young songs for Grace almost since she was born, as I'm sure all parents do, I must confess that this post by my favorite blogger is what prompted me to actually post one.)

Saturday, March 21, 2009

How 'bout them apples, Miss Lindsey?

So help me, I'm on Twitter. I still don't get it. But that doesn't stop me from updating the Internet with every detail of my life. Yet one more way to remove all personal boundaries between me and the rest of the world!

Does anyone know how I can put it off to the side instead of way at the bottom like that? I can do links and formatting in html, but that's about it. Believe it or not, I've taken three programming classes. I absorbed almost nothing. It's one of the areas of study where I'm almost completely brain dead.

I'm still recovering from The Cold of Death.

Three weeks ago, James came home from his business trip. Yay! No more single motherhood. Or, not yay. He slept for the next three days. Don't get me wrong, he needed it, but this lady was tiiiired.

Then The Child got sick for the first time since she was ever so tiny. And she Did Not Appreciate it. For a few days she needed pretty much constant hydration, which was good for my supply, not so good for my sanity.

The The Child started getting better, but I started getting sick. At first it wasn't so bad. And then I woke up one morning, and oooooh, was it bad. Only it wasn't so bad that I could justify lying in bed all day and letting other people wait on me. Nope. It was just bad enough for me to be miserable all the time. This is when the marathon walks started. Which may sound strange, until you consider my alternatives: Walk mindlessly for an hour and a half while The Child gazes around contentedly at you and the world and sometimes dozes. OR, sit on the living room floor while The Child screams at you because you are boring and cannot muster up the energy to actually play with her. So, 3-mile walks it was.

After two miserable days, I started feeling a little better, but The Child had a fever. Which meant crappy naps and waking up at 7:00 in the morning.

I am finally feeling better, but I sneeze every 4.2 minutes, and my right eye is constantly watering, and I am tiiiiiired.

And yet? I'm on the Internet, giving you people a blow-by-blow account of my mental and physical health for the last three weeks.

Who wants to hear about The Child's stooling patterns? Anyone? Bueller?

There there's this, which makes me very happy. I feel so vindicated. I've been telling people for years that my fidgeting and doodling and everything else keeps my mind anchored, but NO ONE BELIEVES ME. And so I attempt to sit still, and everything goes in one ear and out the other. I tell you, I am incapable of both sitting still and taking in anything delivered verbally. I have a couple elementary school teachers to whom I would love to send this article, along with a spelling list 47,000 words long that they'll have to copy five times over because that's what happens when you don't listen.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Crap the baby's hungry can't think of a title in time

I walked almost 4 miles yesterday. I was sick and miserable, but it still felt awesome. I did get a little sunburn, though. Great.

Breastfeeding not so great after all? Iiinteresting. I wouldn't even know how to go about fact-checking this, but still. I don't much get into her more feminist argument about breastfeeding, but it's interesting to me on other points. My guess is that there's some middle ground between "Breastfeeding Suxxors and Will Kill Yore Baybeez!" and "Formula = Poizun!" Why is it that no one falls in the middle? Seriously, folks. It's not like we have Good, Evil and No Man's Land here. It's baby-feeding, not vivisection.

ETA: I think a few of you misunderstood me. I rolled my eyes all the way through the part where she talked about unequal childcare blahdeblahdeblah. That's not what I was interested in. I'm wondering if what she said about the biological and nutritional benefits of breast feeding (that they're overblown) was true, and I have no idea how to check that. I'm not looking for a debate on breastfeeding. I do it, I love it, but I HATED it for a long time, and I completely understand when other people don't wish to do it.

First James was sick, then The Child was sick, and now I am sick. The Child had a pretty high fever last night (100.1F under the arm, which means it could have been as high as 101). We called the pediatrician. He said to give her some Tylenol and call in the morning if she was still feverish. Well, she's still pretty warm, but she's not cooking like she was. I think it's going down, so even though she still has it, I'll wait a little bit before freaking out and scheduling an appointment. Especially since the only ill effect she seems to be suffering is slight fussiness. Mostly she still gabbles away and chews on her feet and stares curiously at plastic bags. No lethargy or obvious pain.

And now, Lost, or, The Episode that Made Me Love Sawyer a Hundred Times More:

Sun kicks butt. And she has great hair. I think she's my new Scully, my new Sidney Bristow. But poor Ben. If you'd told me in Season 2 that I'd feel sorry for him, I would have laughed in your face. Guy just can't catch a break.

Aaaw. Ethan as a baby. It's kind of heartbreaking. Imagine if Grace grew up to be a creepy murderer and pregnant-lady snatcher. I would be sad.

Jack! Workman! AWESOME. Not that there's anything wrong with custodial work, but imagine how Jack feels about it. Mwahahah. Is it too much to hope that Kate will have similar duties?

Speaking of which... you KNOW Juliet left her hanging like that on purpose. I smell a catfight abrewin'. I hope Juliet crushes Kate. Maybe thereafter Kate will be bearable. Or maybe she'll become even whinier, if such a thing is possible.

Lostpedia, stop fancying up your front page. I have cable internet, and you still take too long to load. Idiots.

Phil is suspicious.

Oh, SNAP, Sawyer. That is so true about Jack just reacting. And hey, Jack, the only reason you even got off the Island is because Sawyer JUMPED. Otherwise you'd all be dead in the ocean right now. Remember when Jack was likable? What happened? Are we supposed to hate him? And Kate, too? I've often wondered about this.

This is totally young Ben. I just know it.

Yes! Oh, this was a sweet episode. I'm too icky-feeling still to write anything more, though. My thinking parts are not all there yet. Until next time, Namaste

Monday, March 16, 2009

What is wrong with me my goodness

A couple months ago one of you people wrote in one of your entries that you wanted another baby, and I was all like, "YOUR KID IS LIKE 8 MONTHS OLD OR SOMETHING HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" I thought you were completely nuts and maybe needed a special doctor for your brain parts.

Well, guess what. Baby fever. I've got it bad. Somebody kill me before I do something rash.

I went on a really long walk today. With a really heavy baby in a moderately heavy stroller, up many, many hills and down just as many. It was awesome. It got up around 70F today. Sunny, mild breeze. The only way today could have been better is if a unicorn had pranced across our path while chasing a leprechaun who handed us a pot of gold. Oh, and if my leg muscles hadn't gone on strike about halfway home.

Anyway, my zeal in walking has a lot to do with the situation around my midsection. The pounds stopped coming off a week or so ago, and instead of rolls of fat, I've got flaps of skin. Flaps, like a human advent calendar. Only there aren't cool and exciting new windows under my flaps. Just more flaps.

I realize that exercising will do nothing about the condition of my skin. Only time will do that, but it makes me feel better. I was also wearing a magical shirt that makes my waist look like a toothpick. Do you ever have days where you just fabulous? Today was one of those days. I haven't felt like this since I had Grace.

She was also pretty thrilled with the weather. She snoozed for most of the walk, but the last half hour, we played peek-a-boo over the sunshade on the stroller, and oh my is The Child ever scary when she laughs. The laugh is cute, but the look in her eye is terrifying. Maniacal glee + overgrown baby = cheap horror movie in the making.

I got the lamest spam note on my last entry. It reads, "aa01cdb4cd valium pills cd635 ea874 4f53a tramadol 1d4de bd9f8". I'm not sure what that means. The reason it's lame is that there's no spam site to go to. Just gibberish letters and numbers and drugs. If you're going spam, spam right. Geez. Don't waste my time with this garbage.

Tomorrow is more of the same weather. I cannot believe it. James may even take the day off. I plan to drag him on a walk. Here, James, enjoy your day off! Let's EXERCISE!

(No, "exercise" is not a euphemism.)

Friday, March 13, 2009


Holy crap on a hot tin roof. I am watching The Child eat. By herself. From a bottle. And "bottle" is not a euphemism for part of my anatomy.

Do you people have any idea what this means? I can have a life again. OH MY GOSH. I have not been away from her for more than 2.5 hours at a time since December 13th. This is the best day of my life.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


"Biblical Proportions" would be a great name for a band.

I just spent the last hour thinking about pickles and nothing else. When I finally broke, I actually ran (well, shuffled quickly; I'm wearing socks, and the floors are slippery) down the hall to the refrigerator. Half the jar is gone now. I'm so glad the foods I always crave the most (except chocolate) have like three calories. Or I would be a very fat woman.

We went to a friend's birthday party tonight. It was fun. The cake was awesome. No, I mean, wow. It's the kind of cake that makes your mouth squirt saliva when I think about it six days later. We took The Child with us, of course. Well, we thought about leaving her at home by herself, but we've been finding booze bottles under her crib and used-up cigarettes in the radiator, so we thought it best to bring her with. She handled it very well, only falling apart about ten minutes before we left. The nice thing about noisy parties is that when your child starts freaking out, the only elements of Purple Rage people notice are the visual ones (she turns a beautiful shade of eggplant). Scream all you want, kid! No one can heeeeeeear youuuuuu! Mwahahahah.

Anyway, this party was a surprise party arranged by her husband, from whom James got the invitation. I didn't know this until we were in the car on the way there; James forgot the word "surprise" when he told me about it. It is only by magical coincidence that I didn't spill the beans to her her in an email I wrote yesterday. I've never ruined a surprise before, and I'm a little disappointed that I missed my chance. Next year, maybe.

I've discovered Yahoo! Answers. I didn't even know I had a Yahoo! account until today, when I stumbled upon a Yahoo! Answers answer after Googling something. I think it was maybe "why won't my baby stop crying" or "what decibel and frequency makes plaster crack".

(yeah, we had a rough day)

That website just *schlooped me in. I started answering questions. I tell you what, nothing makes you feel more superior that Yahoo! Answers. "i gots som prenatals left ova. im gunna just crush em up an mix wit water cuz i don wanna by formula... how much u think baby need" Yes, for serious. That was a real question. And I'm pretty sure the question asker was yanking our chains, but I still started foaming at the mouth. I tell you people, righteous indignation is addictive.

*Yes, I made it up. The noise it makes when you say it seemed appropriate.

The child had another haircut today. We have actual hair cutting scissors instead of meat cutting scissors, and I actually thought about it in advance instead of just hacking away willy-nilly and leaving random gouges in The Child's head suit. Dare I say it, she looks adorable. And fuzzy again. She'll be fourteen before I allow her to grow her hair long enough to lie flat.

I'm off for my end-of-the-night smugness fix. Look for me a Yahoo! Answers.

(Why is it that that ! in the middle of "Yahoo! Answers" drives me crazy, but I'm totally okay with very inappropriate parentheses usage?)

Thursday, March 5, 2009

More LOST! and a baby picture... appease all you Lost haters/Grace fans. I have no idea why the color is suddenly all washed out on this picture. She's really not anemic.

I think the statue is Anubis. I've found pictures of him in which he has only four toes on each foot. This matches up with the hieroglyphics we've seen. Also, Anubis's counterpart in Greek and Roman mythology is Cerberus. Darn you, Lost, for not letting us see more of the statue! Darn you to heck!

Dude! Amy's Sawyer's mom!

Is Paul played by the same guy that played Kate's best friend? No info up yet on IMDB.

That's either a Coptic cross or an ankh, Egyptian symbol of life often toted around by Egyptian gods. Such as Anubis. Does Horace start flipping out because he sees Paul alive?

Oh, PLEASE tell me the new conflict isn't Juliet vs. Kate for Sawyer's heart. If it is, I'm going to barf. Let's see. Kate: selfish, self-absorbed, commitment-phobic, sneaky, snarky, defensive, has great hair and upper arms. Juliet: sarcastic, highly intelligent, can fix a Dharma van and perform surgery, has great hair and upper arms. WHO WINS? This shouldn't even be a contest. I'm not Juliet's biggest fan, but she's twelve steps above Kate, the Homicidal Harpy. If this is what's next on Lost I'll be beyond upset.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

From large to extra large in five short months

I think someone is starting her six-month growth spurt early. For the last couple weeks, she's been napping beautifully during the day, usually falling asleep right away, then going two hours at a time before I wake her up. Well. Hah. This morning, I put her down for her nap at her usual time. Shrieking ensued. I did the pat-her-every-ten-minutes-and-tell-her-I-love-her thing for 45 minutes. When we were just starting out the enforced napping, I expected this, and it didn't worry me.

Well, today it was clear that something was wrong. These weren't intermittent I-don't-want-to-sleep shrieks; they were full-blown gurgly someone-is-killing-me shrieks. I fully expected to go in there to find her being stabbed to death by whatever it is that's haunting our house. But she was dry, warm, and didn't seem to have gas. She seemed hungry. No, she seemed HOOOOONGREEEEE. So I fed her. And she gulped and gulped and gulped away, like it was the first and last meal of her life. Normally, if she's eaten less than three hours ago, it's a struggle to get her to eat anything at all. I'm hoping it's just a growth spurt and I didn't totally screw up our nice, established routine.

Speaking of hauntings, I was mostly joking. But this house gives me the creeps sometimes. There are the normal creaks a house makes when it settles. There's the whumpf of the furnace and water heater turning on. But there are also other crazy noises, and sometimes The Child will stare fixedly at something over my shoulder and begin screaming. I don't believe in ghosts, but I still get the heebies. Especially when I'm singing to her in the dark before I put her to bed. I'm sure it's just my overactive imagination, but I always feel like something is leering over my shoulder.

I've agreed to help my pastor's wife with a baby shower in a couple weeks. Any suggestions for quick, delicious foods? I'm already going to make some of that garlic dip and some of that chocolate fruit dip I made for Awesome Friend's shower. I still have dreams about those. Anything else?

Monday, March 2, 2009

Gimme NOW!

The Child can now roll back to front (a month early!). She can't roll front to back (a month late!). She hates being on her stomach. This is going to be fantastic fun.

Some jerk on YouTube yelled at me because MAH POOR INNUSINT BEBE IS BEIN TORCHERRED YOU F***** IDJIT!!! This bothers me a whole lot more than it should. Especially since I put in the video description (for this very reason) that the tights on her head didn't bother her at all. She doesn't even seem to notice they're there. Why did that comment piss me off so much? I have no idea.

The house is really, really clean. I have nothing to do with myself. This morning I went around the house, picking up clothes that didn't even really need washing, and I started a load. It's too cold to go outside for a walk. I like to save TV for when I'm feeding Grace. What to do? Help me, Internet!

My little party was on Saturday. There were a few gifts: a Baby Einstein video, an adorable jumper, a handmade hat (is adorable; must get pictures of MAH POOR INNUSINT BEBE in it), a gift card to TGIFriday's + free babysitting for an evening, and a cute bib. I don't plan to have Grace watching TV for a very long time, but I'm keeping the video anyway. 99% of all the people I know who were all anti-TV when their babies were small finally caved around two years. And the ones who didn't still let their kids watch a few minutes here and there. So I'll keep it.

It's better than Sesame Street. I hate that show more than you could ever imagine, especially since Demon-Posessed Tickle Me Elmo came out. Now I don't just hate the show; it also gives me the heebies. I tell you one thing: Barney will never cross the threshold of this house. Never ever. Just thinking about that purple atrocity makes my skin crawl. I once babysat kids who liked Barney and Power Rangers. A lot. And by "a lot", I mean those kids would have laid down their lives for any of the characters of those two shows. It very nearly came to that one night after I was forced to watch the same Barney video six times over.

It's supposed to be 40F on Wednesday, then 46F on Thursday. Saturday and next Wednesday look like they'll be a little chilly, but after that, it looks like spring may finally be creeping in. This is good because I'm climbing the walls. We had nice weather juuuust long enough that the 20s feel too cold to go outside now, and now it's been in the 20s for several days. Hahah, Wisconsin, you're freaking hilarious.

I'm stir crazy and nervous and antsy. I hate this part of the year almost as much as I do the onset of winter. I'm trying to teach Grace how to roll, and I'll watch her struggle for a toy just out of her reach. It's millimeters from her grasp, and this infuriates her. That's how I feel about spring and warmer weather. It's right there; why can't I just have it?