Cheers & Jeers: Week Six Edition
Howdy from Week Six! I hope you brought money for ice cream.
OMG, popsicle dresses are SO Week Five, Mom, GOD!
Things have been going…well, FAST, for one thing. Even though I am up to watch the sunrise each morning, it seems like I blink and suddenly it’s 2:30 in the afternoon and I’m still unshowered and in my pajamas. Blink again, and Brad’s home from work and I have a few solitary moments between feedings to do the bodily-fluid-encrusted laundry that magically accumulates during the course of the day. Another blink, and I’m laying down in bed beside a bassinet full of sleeping baby, knowing I’ll close my eyes for what feels like five minutes before I’m up again pre-dawn, feeding Sadie in the darkened TV room and listening to the first city bus roll by at 5:30am.
The beauty part? I’ll spit up half that feeding all over her shirt when she tries to burp me. HA!
But even though life seems to be flashing by at the speed of light, I’ve never enjoyed it more. It’s hard not to, when every day is filled with moments that have me reaching for my camera, desperate to freeze these unshowered days in time (minus the smell of unwashed, spit-up-on hair, perhaps). Of course, blogging hasn’t exactly been top on my list of priorities. In fact, I don’t really even have a list of priorities these days. My to-do list for each day has only one item: KEEP BABY ALIVE.
OK, maybe there’s a second item: KISS SQUOOSHY CHEEKS.
But I don’t want to neglect you, Internet! So I offer up a nice, comprehensive Cheers & Jeers for your enjoyment. Keep in mind that this entire post has been written with the time bomb of a lightly-napping infant ticking away (and unfortunately, the tap-tap-tapping of the keyboard seems to randomly trigger her startle reflex), so I feel pretty much like MacGuyver trying to get this thing posted.
Perhaps more like MacGruber, because Sadie just started screaming bloody murder. Sigh.
OK, boob applied, bath given, baby in swing, contented for the time being. Whew.
- Sadie moved up a size in diapers. WAH.
- However, her cheap mother insisted she use up all the Size N diapers before starting to use the Size Ones, which resulted in an ass-plosion that took a onesie, the Boppy cover, and my hoodie as casualties. That’s what you get, Crazy Cheap Poop-Covered Lady.
- This is my last full week of maternity leave. Sigh. I go back next week for one day a week, and that continues for six more weeks. BUT! Brad will be home watching Sadie for that one day a week, and this is still MUCH better than the original plan, which was me going back to work full time after these first six weeks. So this is really a partial CHEER. And now my list is kind of fucked up. But it’s 3:30pm and I haven’t had a shower, so let’s move on, shall we?
- THESE FUCKING BUSES THAT KEEP DRIVING DOWN THE STREET SO FUCKING LOUDLY THAT THEY WILL POSSIBLY WAKE THE BABY AND RUIN MY CHANCE AT A SHOWER.
- I am getting really nervous about pumping enough so that the baby can, you know, EAT while I’m at work. I know this would be completly remedied by me pumping after every feeding like I know I’m supposed to, but that can be challenging when I’m tempted to spend the quiet time after feedings doing silly things like, oh, eating, peeing, and bathing myself.
- Also? I hate pumping. The breastpump makes me feel at best like a goddamn dairy cow, and at worst like a pervert with an odd nipple-stimulation fetish.
- I kind of keep forgetting that I need to use some sort of birth control again. And this is not a good thing to keep forgetting.
- Sadie just woke up, took an enormous shit that I could hear over the monitor, and then fell right back asleep. NOW WHAT, INTERNET? Do I let her marinate in a virtual Lake Michigan of poop so I can selfishly get a shower? Or do I change her, which I KNOW will wake her up and render me showerless, but will also keep CPS at bay? The only thing I know for sure is that ONE of us is remaining soiled.
- I took Sadie to work last week, and everyone very wisely went apeshit over how cute she is, so I didn’t have to cut a bitch.
- WE FOUND A DAYCARE. It ended up not being one of our original choices (for which we are STILL on stupid-ass waitlists), but we found it through word of mouth. It’s close to our house, affordable, full of super-nice women who actually looked happy to be there, and they have a slot for an infant open in August. WOO! Or rather: woo. Don’t get me wrong: I am very grateful to have found this place, and I feel as good about it as I’m going to feel about any daycare arrangement, but still. Daycare = DROPPING MY BABY OFF WITH STRANGERS, and I know it’s going to sort of suck for a while, no matter what the situation.
- I’m…kind of excited about going back to work one day a week. Check back with me next week about this, when I’m sure to be weeping over the whole arrangement, but the idea of dressing up in real clothes and showering before noon and not having my boob in someone’s mouth every two hours is kind of exciting to me. Also, work = money for Sadie and her future education/savings/pony/loads of cute dresses at Target that I cannot stop buying for her.
- For all my bitching about having to pump, it does afford many lovely opportunities for BOOOOOOOOOOOOOZE. Ah, booze. I missed you, old friend.
- I have my 6-week midwife appointment tomorrow, during which I imagine I will be declared NORMAL again, after my 10.5 month journey into pregnancy and motherhood. Would someone mind informing my ass that it kindly needs to go back to normal now?
- Midwife appointment tomorrow affords me another opportunity to show off adorable baby to the public.
- My daughter has poops that can be heard over the monitor, and I find this deeply hilarious.
- I typed most of this entry while wearing only pajama pants and a nursing bra that looks like something an elderly nun would wear in 1940s Berlin.
Sadie’s going to go with “JEER.”