HEELS

First of all- today is John's Birthday! Go tell him to have a great one.

This morning, after yet ANOTHER blowout (this time in the exersaucer- lovely! You know, the drain holes in the base of the exersaucer seem like a good idea until there's a pint of liquid poop poured inside) and the subsequent scrubbing of hands, John and I went to get scones from our favorite place. Because of his birthday, not because I've been craving them daily. Nothing like that.

I walked in and was able to order immediately. I didn't dither, I didn't ask for extras, I had correct change, and I was pleasant.

I think I got a little glare for not tipping.

I'm a big tipper- when I think it's deserved. If I ask for extra work, i.e., warming my scone, making an espresso drink, double wrapping, or bussing my dirty plates and garbage, then I tip. I tip more the more effort it takes. I am overgenerous most of the time.

But reaching in a case, putting a scone in a bag, and taking my money? That's just your JOB. That's what you get paid your basic salary for. I've worked a LOT harder in sales without any kind of tip or extra compensation. A tip is not DESERVED, it is EARNED.

Am I wrong? I admit, I have never worked in food service- for a reason! I imagine it really sucks. But where do we draw the tipping line? Do I tip you just because you smiled at me and said "Have a good day"? I think not.

So, do you agree? What are your tipping guidelines? I'd like to hear especially if you've been in food service. When do you tip?

Yay! Beer!!

Mmmmmm....

...mmmmmmm...

Mom, I'm soooooo...

...Drunnnnnk!

I can't even sit up straight in this exer-thingy.

Is this thing on?

Oh my goodness- I'm so sorry about the no posting. Weekend- crazy! (but good), Monday- wicked! (and NOT good), yesterday- a real mixed bag...

Anyway...
The birthday party was wonderful. We had a great time. The timeline went like this: Kids got there (her parents came and set up that morning); They ran around in the heat like crazy people for a while; asked to watch cartoons and were disappointed to hear that we only get one channel of tv; watched about 15 minutes of Finding Nemo; Adults made Margaritas; Margaritas finished in seconds flat; Kids ran around like crazy people; Lunch; crazy running; beat a pinata to death; crazy running; presents; crazy running; cake; crazy running; they all went home.

Nothing red and permanent was spilled on the carpet, I have not found cake stuffed in the VCR. All in all- SUCCESS! Her parents even cleaned up after!

Sunday we swam. The heat, it was brutal all weekend! I mean, over 100 degrees brutal. Sunday was a relly nice, relaxing day.

Then came Monday.

That morning, Cole had a blow-out that looked something like butternut squash soup (yummy, huh?). All over the couch. I didn't really know what to do because I really needed to come in to work. So, I took him in to daycare. I let the daycare lady know what had happened and told her that she should call me if it got worse.

I got a call that afternoon from her, telling me that it had happened twice more and that he was acting really fussy (which is totally unusual for him). I asked her if she needed me to pick him up and she said no. I just couldn't get away from work! I felt so bad!! Then the network here at the office went down (so no post) and so I left at 4 and picked him up.

I was afraid that Monday night would be a bad one, but it wasn't terrible. He continued to poo, but there wasn't much left so it wasn't messy. I gave him a bath that he seemed to enjoy very much.

The rule for daycare is that the day after illness like that, the kids can't attend. So I stayed home with Cole on Tuesday. John was home with us for the morning- seems he caught whatever Cole had- but, ridiculously, he decided to go to work for the afternoon. Idiot. (Me not at work+Network still down=no post)

So Cole and I went grocery shopping, birthday present shopping (for John! It's tomorrow!), had a nap together and had frozen yogurt (his first!) (Don't worry- he hardly had any). Then he slept all night. YES!!!

So I thought that everything would be alright this morning. What was the first thing he did? Yup- blow out. At least it was on an orange towel...

He went in to daycare anyway. I really hope he's okay. I don't know what to make of all this. All I know to do is keep offering fluids and cheerios (which is what he eats mostly anyway). Daycare will call me if he doesn't improve.

Do I sound heartless leaving my poor little baby at daycare when he feels yucky? I feel like the worst mommy on earth. He let me know what he thought about it this morning when he cried as I left. 

I'm an asshole. How are you?

Last night we went to a friend's house so that John could fix their computer. It turned out to be an easy fix (the monitor was plugged into the wrong port- my friend feels like an ass!), so we were all hanging out talking in their kitchen. I had gotten Cole to sleep after a bit more fussiness than usual and a full, 8 oz bottle. He was passed out on my chest (making us both sweat because OH MY GAWD! The HEAT!

All of a sudden, as I'm gazing down at my son's beautiful sleeping face, he opens his mouth and I feel like I'm in a scene straight out of Exorcist. A fountain of undigested formula came gushing out of his fully open mouth and landed all over me, him, and the floor.

I froze, still not really sure what had just happened. As my friend ran to the sink for a rag, I slowly came to my senses and peeled Cole off of me. He was not crying and didn't even seem upset. He started coughing and I got another wave of stomach contents.

Their dog went to work on the floor and had it cleaned up in minutes. My friend gave me a new shirt, but we're pretty different sizes, so I was stuck with my own soaked pants. We decided that it was a good time to make our way home and left.

As I was buckling him into his carseat, Cole continued to bring stuff up. Eventually I could tell that there was nothing left. I called my mom and warbled and freaked out in her ear as I drove to Rite Aid for electrolytes and juice. I was sure that we would have a night of no sleep and a lot of mopping. Talking to my mom made me feel better and I was able to calmly go into the drugstore.

While waiting for the cashier, a line formed behind me. I was feeling very aware of how I must smell (with the puke still soaking every piece of clothing but the borrowed shirt) and that the puke must have made its way ALL the way down my front and it looked like I had peed myself. I was hoping that, upon seeing that I was clutching Pedialyte and apple juice, anyone wondering would get the idea.

We got home and I got two small bottles worth of water with a tiny bit of apple juice into Cole's tummy. And it stayed there.

We took a lukewarm shower after taking his temperature (normal) and he still wasn't sicking up.

We got ready for bed and laid down and played with books for a while and he was still okay.

He woke up seeming normal and happy, so I broke the rules and took him to daycare. I haven't gotten a call yet.

Our best guess is that it was food poisoning. We purchased some small cans of pre-mixed formula for emergencies a few weeks ago. We had used some while out shopping and they had been fine. Then it got hot. I wondered about leaving them in the car in the heat so I checked the labels and packaging thuroughly to see if they said anything about not storing it above room temperature or whatever, but there had been nothing about it.

So last night, when I fed him a can of it, I wasn't expecting anything unusual. Apparently, they should add that warning to the cans, because we can't find that anything else could have been the cause of his illness.

But at least it wasn't a stomach bug. As much as I could stand to lose a few pounds, puking is not really the way I want to do it.

I took my nephew out shopping for a present last night. Unlike what I expected, when we walked into the aisle with the toys, he immediatley grasped the concept that we were shopping for a girl and that she has different taste than he. It was amazing, considering he's only 4. He almost instinctively chose toys that I think she will love (for the maximum time allotted to any one toy- about 15 minutes). I was totally shocked. He's only met this girl once and it was several months ago. They didn't really spend much time together and didn't exactly get to know each other well. I don't know where he learned how to shop for a girl, but if he has a wife when he grows up, and he still shops for women this well? She will be a happy woman. I mean, he has no love for girly things (that I could tell) but he even picked out the perfect gift bag- the Disney Pricesses. My niece is enthralled by the Disney Princesses. How he knew that? I don't believe I'll ever know.

He was a pleasure to shop with. He made up his mind quickly and made really good choices. Even when we saw things that he wanted (a Bambi stuffed toy was one) he was willing to just look and never begged to take something home. He didn't seem disappointed at all that he didn't get a treat or anything. I even asked if he wanted to play with the Bambi until we got to the register, but he politely declined. Again, I was seriously impressed. He was lovely to be with. (Until we got to the restaurant, but that's another story. At that point, he was also his grandmother's responsibility, and for that I was thankful!)

So I have hope that, if a 4 year old boy can so easily shop for a 6 year old girl, maybe I, too, will find deep reserves of inspiration and we can pull off a great party for my niece.

But, just in case, suggestions are still very much appreciated.

(Really, what do you think about the dog poop game? 'Cause our backyard is really starting to need it anyway. No? Are you sure?)

This Saturday we are hosting a birthday party for my niece (who turned 6 on the 7th of this month, but her parents decided to wait until the 24th for her party). Seriously, have I been smoking crack? Have you been seeing me down in front of the bars at night begging for a fix and you just didn't tell me about it? Because that's the only explanation I can think of.

I don't even know what I'm in for. I haven't been to a birthday for a six year old girl since mine in 1985. I don't think I had much fun then, either. I was an overly serious girl.

So... Questions:

What does one even do for a six year old girl? Are pinatas, like, totally last decade? What about a rousing game of "Pick up the dog poo from the back yard?" I'll hand out plastic bags and whoever cleans it up the fastest can go home with it all.

I already got her some presents. I got girly, pink and purple clothes, a Cinderella purse, sparkly lip gunk, sunglasses, and obnoxious gum (2 packs!)(What- it's not like she's my daughter. I don' t have to deal with her identification with unrealistic role models and traditional roles for women. That's for her parents to fuck up!). Now I have to take my nephew out to go present shopping for her and I'm tapped for ideas. Any suggestions? I think my nephew will probably pick something having to do with motorcycles, and I'm not sure she'd be too into that.

And what about rules for the party? Can I isolate all the kids in the room with the floor that's easiest to clean? Or outside? In the 100 degree heat (There's a hose)? What about putting up a baby gate across the entrance to my living room (with off-white carpet, no less) and a sign that says "Adult Lounge- Must be 18 years or older to enter"?

Finally, can I serve pink, frothy, irresistable-to-children drinks loaded with alcohol, or do you think that could turn ugly?

Any suggestions would be helpful as I am totally and completely fucking lost.

(I also think it's a really good thing that I am the mother to a boy.)

You know, there are downsides to having your baby, who normally likes to nurse throughout an entire night, finally sleep through a night. They are called boobs, and they hurt.

Cole slept through the night last night!

I'm not gloating, I'm just really, super, fucking grateful to have gotten 7 straight hours of sleep. I might just be able to function today!

My writing abilities, however, don't seem to be much changed from the usual awful crap. Like the saying goes- Those who can't write, edit.

(For those who don't know, I'm a Technical Editor. It's even more pitiful than a real Editor, who might actually have to have some kind of writing skills in order to get a book in shape. No, I just piss around with formatting and grammar. I'm the asshole with the red pen catching your spelling mistakes.)

Here I am saying that I absolutely don't want to be pregnant again and I find out seconds later that my friend probably lost the baby she so desperately wants. There's only a 1% chance that it's okay. I'm really sad now. It's a strange sense of loss.

Can I be? For a post? It's really hard, you know? How personal do you get with these things? Is it okay to talk about because it has been happening to me or, because it involves another, is it off-limits?

But I can't get it out of my head. I need to write it down and it feels like cheating to write it and then erase it.

It may be too much information. You've been warned!! But I have to get it out.

Cole tore me up badly. I mean, REALLY badly. It was a nightmare of complications. The amount of trauma, both physical and mental, was pretty unbelievable. John and I were only able to be together for the first time since Cole's birth about a week ago. That means about 8 months without. Eight. Of forced separation. EIGHT!

And the going, even now, is slow, awkward, and, at times, quite painful. We were not prepared for this. All the books said "after your 6 WEEK checkup, it's usually safe to go back to normal." Six weeks came and went and there was no way in the whole world that we were going to be able to do anything.

Insult to injury is that this month? The month that we're finally getting back up to speed? I couldn't get birth control. The only way I could have gotten the pill is by paying about $125 for a checkup and then $40 for a month's supply. I don't have that kind of money. What's ridiculous is that I actually have insurance this month, finally. But, because there are so few doctors in this area, I couldn't get in anywhere for an appointment. Until July.

Now is not the time for advice on other methods. Some have been tried and don't work. Others need an appointment that would be just as spendy as the pill. We have no solution right now.

And we can't just go ahead anyway. There is no money, no time, no energy, and no desire for another baby any time soon, if ever. I can't get pregnant. The thought scares the shit out of me. I can only just begin to image what it's like for her.

Please no. No, no, no. That is one of my nightmares.

So another month will go by. It's hard on a marriage. Harder than I ever would have thought. John and I will be fine- I'm not worried about that. But it has taken a toll. I'm just looking forward to a time when we can be a little more normal again. A little more like spouses and less like roommates. And maybe, when we are happier with each other, we can be even better parents to our beautiful son, who deserves the best parents on earth.

Cole in his frog floaty.

Cole and the Monster of the Deep Me

Baby's First Rib Bone

With Daddy on Daddy's Day

After shower nakie-time.

I Love my family.

We had a lovely father's day. John got to have everything his way for a day (except that he had to mow my parent's lawn)! I made crepes for breakfast, we had smoothies for lunch (it was SO hot) and we had his family over for pizza and swimming.

I do have pictures, I just don't have my camera with me today. You'll just have to hang on. I know you can do it.

The past three days now I have been called in to see the head of HR. Not because I'm doing something wrong, but because I have reported on the unacceptable behavior of others in my office.

What do I mean by unacceptable behavior? Well, one guy was just milimeters away from seriously sexually harrassing me (and I'm pretty fuckin' easy going) and another has been berating people behind their backs but in front of me. I've had enough. I don't want to hear this crap anymore, so I told my supervisor who told HR.

A part of me feels like a tattle-tale, like I should be able to just buck up and forget about it. The thing is, I know that too many of the major problems in this office spring from the horrible attitude of, particularly, these two guys. Only, they are "so valuable" that they get away with it and have for years.

But enough is enough. I'm tired of the harrassment and disrespect. They treat me like a tool who is just here for their use and not worth their notice otherwise. I don't deserve it.

You be nice to my momma.

Or I'll huck a loogie on your forehead.

I am so sexeeee! Look at my hat and my truck. Don't you want me?

Gimme a kiss.

Oh No! I am hideous!

No! No more pictures!

I disgust myself so much that I just threw up on my own leg.

Now, where is that mommy-thing to clean this all up?

Do I hear daddy footsteps?

I guess I'll clean it up myself because mommy-thing sure isn't helping.

So much better. Now, gimme a kiss.

I have started using baby sign language with Cole in the hope that he will be better able to communicate and to avoid potential frustrations (at least a couple) along the way.

And oh my goodness- is he brilliant. I have only been using the sign for milk for a short time now, but he already responds to it. When I sign it, he flaps his arms, kicks his legs, makes little noises, and leans forward with his mouth open as if my hand was his bottle.

I have also started using food/eat, good, and more. Tonight I will start sleep/tired.

He doesn't use the signs himself yet (he doesn't even quite have the coordination to leave a cheerio in his mouth- he just sucks on his fist with the cheerio safely trapped inside), but I can see the interest. He stares intently at my hands when I sign.

It's so exciting to see him growing and learning. This is the most wonderful part of being a parent for me. The hugs and kisses are fantastic, and I would never want to do without them. But the chance to see a human develop from birth- it's priceless. It's unmatched. And it's amazing to think about how we all develop so differently, even though the steps we all have to take are fundamentally the same. What incredible creatures we all are.

I just ran an errand for work. I was driving through town and went to pull into a left turn lane. As is my habit (from bus driving days), I checked over my left shoulder to see that no one had pulled in there before me, only to freak out when I saw a car directly beside me! We were going to crash!!

Only, upon double checking, not a car, after all. Just the edge of my own sunglasses. Am insufferable bonehead.

I just saw a lunch that made me want to steal it. I've never done anything like that, and I'm not likely to start now, but oh! Did it look yummy! A warm, homemade calzone with marinara heaped on top and a crunchy, cool green salad on the side. Mmmmmm.....

Oh, sorry about that. The drool- I just can't stop it. It's hereditary.

(Does anybody ACTUALLY do that? Lunch stealing, I mean. Has that happened to anyone in real life? And by real life I do not mean when you saw the sandwich episode of Friends.)

The one friend I made in Pittsburgh who I still keep in touch with just told me (and I was the FIRST to be told!) that she and her husband are pregnant. They have been trying for about 7 months, but she has some ovary "issues" and it just wasn't happening. Now they are about 6 weeks along and have already had two ultrasounds to confirm. It's happening.

I'm so excited for her (even though I don't really like how she and her husband interact with each other and I have serious doubts about him as a father- but that's another story). I keep reflecting on how things were for me at each stage and emailing back and forth with her. It's been a wonderful way to relive my pregnancy without actually having to be pregnant.

Except that I've realized that, OMFG, I'm the new (*gulp*) ASS-VICE giver! Fuck, bugger, shit-bricks.

I SWORE that I wouldn't do that! Up and down and sideways- I was NOT going to be that person. But now I am! What happened to me?

Childbirth. That's what fucking happened. Childbirth turned this person who could previously keep her opinions to herself when not asked (most of the time) into one of those damn biddies who stops you in the grocery store and tells you that you need to feed your baby more milk and sausage because that's what she did and now her kids are grown up and each a good, healthy 500 pounds! And Oh! Let me stick my old biddy fingers in your baby's mouth and give him whatever cold I've picked up from the old folks home! Aaakk!

Yes, childbirth has turned me into an "expert" on all things baby related. Doctor? Pssht. Who needs a doctor? Forget them- just ask me!

Anyway... I have to really work on keeping my advice to myself unless she asks (but then, even if she does ask, how do I know she really wants advice and isn't just humoring me or something? Oh god- this is too complicated! Do I have to sever ties with her completely in order to avoid offending her with my advice? Would not talking to her be more or less offensive?). So far, I've tried to limit myself to just telling her about what books I liked and which I hated. Is that too bad?

To those of you who don't yet have children, this may seem a bit strange. But heed my warning- when you do become pregnant? The ass-vice-ers will come for you, too. And I might be one of them...

(I've probably butchered the spelling. Sorry, Naomi. Please don't be TOO disappointed in me!)

Cole is in a pinching stage right now. He doesn't pinch to be mean and it's really more like he grabs with the tips of his fingers than pinches like an older kid would. But it still hurts. He likes to squeeze the fat on the back of my arm and on my side. He also grabs the tendons in my neck. And, recently, he has been grabbing my waddle.

You know the waddle- the skin along the front of your neck that's just a bit looser to allow you to put your head back. The first time I heard that name for it was on Ally McBeal. I didn't watch that show for long- I got into it late and got out when it turned unabashedly weird with all the forced strange character traits, weirdly unfeminist and sexist character development, and absolutely plodding plot. But anyway- the waddle.

I don't have much of a waddle- I don't look like a turkey or anything, but there's just enough skin there for Cole to grab and pinch. And he doesn't just do it once. Instead, he squeezes repeatedly, as if he were trying to milk a cow.

I know he doesn't realize what he's doing, but every time he squeezes my fat I feel like everyone is noticing all of the extra I have and I get really embarrassed (Does it make me stop stuffing doritos in my face? No. But it's still embarrassing)(By the way- Doritos and wine, as suggested by Beth= really good idea).

I guess I'm not asking for advice or anything. I'm just thinking out loud.

(I mean, you guys do realize that this blog is 100% stream of thought and that I don't edit posts AT ALL. Each one takes no more than about 15 minutes.)

(Now you're all thinking "Oh! That explains a LOT! Except, Oh. Oh my. Much freakier than we even realized. Gosh. I think I'll stop reading now.")

Oh, a blossoming nerdling. How sweet...


The nerd baby will slay you with his light saber and then eat 10 frozen burritos.

Cole has now decided that this is the appropriate face to make EVERY time I try to take a picture of him. It would be hilarious if it didn't mean that I can never show you haw cute he truly is:




Seriously- he made this face EVERY TIME! I am NOT joking!!! It was maddeningly frustrating! But also hilarious.

It was an unintentional hiatus I took from blogging the last few days. Wednesday Blogger was being a bitch (like, what else is new?) and I had a CRAZY day at work. Thursday I took the day off because Cole had his well baby checkup. With shots.

Ouch, ouch and........................ouch!

But he was so brave and strong. He cried for a second until I picked him up and gave him kisses. I love having the power to make it all better. It helped that the nurse was the quickest draw I've EVER seen. She was slapping those bandaids on faster than I could say Mercury poisoning.

He checked out just fine. He's now 19lbs, 8 oz. and 28 1/2 inches tall- long and THIN for his age! Can you believe it? Those cheeks and he's still considered thin...

Random beautiful baby parts:


He's mine and still I say "squee, Squee, SQUEE!"

And guess who finally found the black and white setting on her camera? Shut up. I don't have a manual- I FOUND my camera, remember? I have to figure it all out by myself. What? There are websites about that?

Shut up.

The worry! The anxiety! The pointless comparison!

I can't help it- there are two babies I know/read about frequently who were born the same day and the day after Cole was, respectively. I will preface this by saying that both of these babies are girls. But here's the thing: they both have teeth; they are crawling and, in one case, pulling up and walking around things.

Cole is doing none of that. The teeth? The teeth that he was threatening to push through MONTHS ago? Not here. The crawling? He hates even trying. He lies on his belly and just whines and moans while sort of pushing himself in a circle very, very slowly. He won't even get his knees underneath him. When I put a toy in front of him so that he'll have an incentive, he tries for a second and then puts his face down on his hands and groans. He likes to stand up if someone is holding his hands, but he won't bounce and he randomly just lets his knees give out so that, if he were standing unassisted, he would just collapse in a baby puddle. He's becoming very dramatic.

What do I do? Should I be worried like I am? All babies do these things on their own schedule, right? I mean, this doen't mean he's not still brilliant, does it?

I really need some reassurance here.

He has a well-baby check-up on Thursday. He hasn't had one since he was about 3 months old. I don't know for sure how much he weighs or how tall he is or any of that doctor's office stuff. I'm sure that's not helping my anxiety.

But any kind words you could give me would help, even just "shut the eff up- your kid is fine and we're sick of hearing about it" or "don't worry about it yet because you can't even tell about some forms of retardation until they're older". The first is possibly more comforting, but please be honest.

Today, at 1:00 PM, I get my house.

This is big, people, because if I had to wait much longer I was going to say some things to my mother that I never want to have to say to her because,  ultimately, I love her.

But, beyond that, NEW HOUSE! It could only be better if I was buying it. Or if it was free. Yeah... free house would be sweet...

Accordingly, this weekend's weather is supposed to be nasty. Not rain, like we usually get when we move, but humid (which is unusual for this area) and HOT. Like, approaching 100 degrees hot. Yes, I realize that it will get hotter later this summer, but I'm not moving later this summer, either. And by not moving I mean not getting off of the bed with the fan blowing on my naked body unless it's to go to the pool.

(Oh yeah, except for that work baloney.)

And there are no moving trucks for rent in the whole town so we have to do the whole thing in a pickup and a Toyota Landcruiser from 1980 that isn't exactly the most reliable starter (even though I love that truck with all of my heart that I can give to an old truck).  At least it's cheaper that way.

On a totally unrealated note, John and I went out by ourselves for only the second time since Cole was born. We went to the movies and saw "X-Men (what, 3 now? Jeez.)." In a word- terrible. I didn't mind the first two, but this just had cheese oozing out of its pores. Blech. The highlight was the "Angel" mutant, not because he was neat (a little pukey, actually), but the scenes of him flying over San Francisco. I kept imagining him as the flying scourge of the San Francisco skies, swooping in to steal corn dogs right out of tourist's hands and then pooping on everything. Funny stuff. Not the movie, the pooping.

Do you ever have those days where you think "I might get thrown in jail for murdering this co-worker, but dammit, it just might be worth it."

And then you look at this face and realize that nothing that would take you away from him would be worth it.

Can you believe he was only 6 DAYS old at the time of this picture?

~~~~~~*@*~~~~~~

I bought our first refrigerator today. It's not new, but it's new to us! It looks like the fridge I grew up with. It's a little creepy. I expected to open it and find 15 year old leftover spaghetti inside.

Sadly, they can't deliver it until Monday, so our first weekend in the house will be spent eating out of a cooler. That's alright, beer tastes better out of a cooler anyway. And we'll have plenty of running water for SHOWERS and COFFEE. I can live without a fridge for a couple days, but not my 15 minute shower or my single cup of coffee. It's the little things...

Something else that has become an afternoon work necessity is M&Ms. I never used to like M&Ms, but I now have a small cup (y'know- those tiny paper ones that come from the dispenser on the water cooler) every weekday afternoon. I've got to cut it out. I've been justifying it because I'm a new mom, y'know, and the sleep? Is not always so good. Or forthcoming. Sugar is my drug of choice! But I've been wearing WAY too many stretchy, drawstring, and wrap-around bottoms lately- never a good sign.

Anyway...

We're signing the lease tomorrow and getting the keys! YEA for not living with parents any more! YEA for having enough space to set up a crib again! YEA for not having caved about the dog!

All I need is a washing machine and I'll be complete.