Aug 20 2009

30

Today is my 30th birthday.

The day started out right with a 4 am baby fussing fit. Just when I had gotten her back to sleep, Cole woke up. I sent him to his father.

Then, while dropping Cole off at school, I suddenly became aware of a stronger then usual infant poop odor and realized, upon returning to my car, that Rowan had managed to poop copious amounts out of the leg opening of her diaper and down the front of my black shirt. For a better visual here, please understand that a breastfed infant’s poop is bright golden-yellow and curdy. Delicious.

When I finally managed to get us both home, she had another fussing fit that ended with projectile spit-up in my ear. Then she pooped on me two more times.

But I did get an uninterrupted shower, a delicious apricot turnover, a hot cup of coffee, a nice lunch with my husband, and a lovely 1-hour massage with a hot-stone section thrown in as a birthday surprise from my masseuse, so my day has actually been quite lovely.

What can I say about being 30? Ummm… Well, I guess I thought I’d be smarter, but things are pretty good.

Aug 14 2009

3 Weeks

Because my typing has been mainly of the one-handed variety (because of baby-holding, nothing steamier!), I have been doing some updating on Facebook, but have been less enthused about taking the time to do anything here. But we’re still here and still doing great. Breastfeeding is still about as perfect as I ever could have hoped, and Rowan has become our little pork pie. Seriously- this kid is SO chunky. I’m fairly convinced that she’s over 10 pounds now. Every time I think about how big she’s getting, I do a little cheer for the boobs and then start singing the song from Madagascar 2:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_1yuF77etE]

She even growls at me if she thinks I’m trying to take the precious boobs away. She’s also not real fond of me putting her down. Ever. It makes housework interesting. Luckily, she seems to be increasingly okay with the sling.

And Cole, despite how much he clearly LOVES his “little sis,” has been a challenge. He’s looking for attention and he’ll take it any way he can get it, even if it means being a horrible little shit to me and John. We’re all still adjusting, and the fine tuning will take a while, no doubt. He’s still finding his place at his new school, too. He’s a little too fond of keeping tabs on everyone else’s behavior, the little policeman, and it has made him a bit unpopular with certain kids at times. Yesterday, for example, he was trying to stop another boy from taking too much toilet paper and the other boy bit him on the back. It has only been 3 weeks, though, and I expect that in another 3 weeks he’ll be far more settled, at home and at school.

Also a challenge has been my foot, the smallest toe of which I caught on the crib while trying to get to the bathroom to brush my teeth. It now seems that I did not break or dislocate it as I originally thought, but actually tore ligaments. It’s turning a lovely, mottled blue/purple. So just as I was walking normally and comfortably again, I can no longer walk normally or comfortably.

That does contain some good news though, if you know how to interpret it correctly: 2 weeks after having Rowan I was walking normally and comfortably again! Perhaps that doesn’t seem like much of a triumph, but considering that I was still not healed well a full 6 weeks after Cole, I am pumping my fist in victory to be this far along at 3 weeks post.