life with a new baby
Jen and Paul
An Upcoming Celebration
Dec 17th
Yesterday was the first day in over 100 days that I took a break from writing in my blog. I have to admit, it was nice.
Well, maybe not as nice as a big bowl of deliciously fattening chocolate ice cream, but pretty damn close.
Even though it felt good to finally allow myself to take a break, I still felt weird not writing. I walked around most of the day feeling like I was only wearing one sock, or like I hadn’t brushed my teeth, or like I only put mascara on one eye. (Yes I have done that before, put mascara on only one eye. AND WENT OUT IN PUBLIC.) You know the feeling. That nagging sensation that you’ve forgotten to do something, only you can’t quite put your finger on exactly what it is you forgot to do.
And I didn’t forget to blog. I just chose to take a break. But all day long, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had forgotten something.
In other news, Paul and I will be celebrating our ONE YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY this weekend! A whole year! Together! With a baby! And poop, lots and lots of baby poop! We have survived!
WE HAVE SURVIVED!
I feel like standing on the rooftop with a loudspeaker and shouting, “HEY FOLKS! WE SURVIVED OUR FIRST YEAR OF MARRIAGE… WITH A POOPING BABY!” Because to me, that’s a pretty big deal. We are still married and couldn’t be any happier, even though we always catch ourselves discussing Nathan’s bowel habits on a daily basis.
You know you married your soul-mate when you can talk about baby poop and still find your partner overwhelmingly attractive.
So for our anniversary, Paul’s mom said she’d watch Nathan for us while we go on a date. We’re really, really excited to have some Us Time. Of course, we love Nathan more than life itself, but after a while, we start craving that elusive Us Time like there’s no tomorrow. So Saturday, we’re dropping the little guy off at Grandma’s house and we’re going out to celebrate our wonderful first year of marriage.
We will not, however, be discussing Nathan’s bowel habits.
OCD Malfunction… Part 2
Dec 10th
So I briefly mentioned once (here) that my Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder was malfunctioning. Well, folks, it’s malfunctioning even worse… if that’s possible.
I can’t remember where I put anything.
Really.
I’m a pretty organized person, ya know? Everything has its own little place. Each drawer is organized and has sections. My figurines decorating the shelves and counter tops are spaced apart perfectly. Everything is lined up straight or at visually-pleasing angles.
Well, I probably shouldn’t use the word is.
Because now? Now, some of my decorations are askew. Items that had a little home in one drawer have been found residing in other drawers.
Some of my wall decorations have gone crooked. CROOKED! ON THE WALL! Oh, the agony!
There were times that people used to come over to my house and purposefully move my things around because they thought it was funny to watch me follow behind them, straightening everything back up. I always noticed when something was a little… off. But not now. Now, sometimes I don’t even notice.
My husband is even getting a tad irritated.
He was used to everything being in the exact same spot all the time. Kitchen Utensil X goes in the top drawer. Kitchen Utensil Y goes in the middle drawer. That big metal bowl? That goes in the middle cabinet. Well, somehow Kitchen Utensil X ends up in the bottom drawer, Kitchen Utensil Y ends up in the cabinet, and the big metal bowl can be found nesting on top of the refrigerator.
ALONG WITH OTHER MISPLACED ITEMS.
And dust!
Maybe it’s stress. Sleep deprivation. Or utter exhaustion. When I see a figurine on the bookshelf that has been jostled ever so slightly, I just try not to look at it. I’m too tired to get up and fix something so menial.
Yes, my OCD has malfunctioned. But I’m going to take this time to relax. I have other things to do (sleep! rest! shower!) other than constantly making sure everything is spaced perfectly apart. I have a feeling, however, that once I have gotten enough rest, I’ll be back to making sure everything is in the right place again.
Until then, I’m relaxing.
The Sneezing Marathon
Nov 30th
This year, it took us three days to get the Christmas tree decorated and all our Christmas decorations laid out.
Last year, when I was six months pregnant, it took six hours. This year, we have a nine-month old little guy who insists on having our undivided attention. That means that nothing is worthy of stealing Nathan’s thunder.
Christmas tree included.
We started putting the tree up on Thanksgiving evening. Paul hauled the Christmas tree and all the decorations in from the shed. We started pulling out the limbs for assembly when we noticed something peculiar.
Something was awry with the limbs of our Christmas tree.
For once, it had nothing to do with baby poop. But it was something else that was equally disturbing.
Something that had left clumps of insulation throughout a handful of limbs.
A MOUSE NEST.
Yes, a mouse had built a little home for itself in the bowels of our Christmas tree limbs.
Expensive Christmas tree limbs. This is the kind of tree you can’t just throw away because of some mouse. Not that our tree is some grand, magnificent sight… but for three people living off of one income, it’s magnificent enough to not just throw away.
Fortunately, the little home was abandoned. There was no mouse to be seen. Just tufts of insulation embedded in the limbs of the tree, a grim reminder of the MOUSE THAT ONCE WAS. The mouse that lived (and I’m sure died) in our shed.
Remnants of a happy life once lived.
So we spent the entire Thanksgiving evening with bottles of Lysol and paper towels, sanitizing the shit out of each and every Christmas tree limb, peeling off wisps of mouse nest from in between the fake plastic pine needles.
But then there is my allergies. Apparently, I am allergic to Fake Christmas Tree Dust and Abandoned Mouse Houses and I had a pretty severe allergy attack. My rapid-fire sneezing has been non-stop since Thanksgiving. Every time I walk into the living room, my eyes start to swell, my nose starts itching, and my chest starts that familiar I’m-going-to-suffocate-you burn.
It feels like my body is TRYING TO KILL ME.
Because apparently, when we were hauling fake plastic Christmas tree limbs out from their temporary coffin, we let loose a cloud of Danger Dust. The kind of dust that accumulates on things outside, even things that are in a shed… a dust composed primarily of leaves, pollen, and mouse-house allergens.
So I’ve resigned myself to deep cleaning the entire house. The dust has gotta go.
I banish it.
Fortunately, it doesn’t seem as if Nathan has my allergies. Thankfully. The kid isn’t even phased. He likes looking at the twinkling lights on the tree, reaching out for the ornaments, and laughing at Mommy’s multiple sneeze marathons.
The Curious Case of the Malfunctioning Body Wash
Nov 19th
Last night when I was taking my usual shower, something strange happened. No, I didn’t have an epiphany on how to accomplish world peace. Nor did I compose a soon-to-be renowned symphony with my awesome mind power. No, I was just bathing myself.
I felt… soapier than usual.
Kinda slimy.
I thought my body wash had started to rot. I don’t know if body wash can rot or not, but I’m telling you, this stuff was really slimy and weird-feeling on my skin. I thought MY BODY WASH HAD MALFUNCTIONED. So I slowly raised the loofah to my quivering nostrils and took a whiff.
PANTENE.
That’s what I smelled on my loofah. So apparently, in my sleep-deprived state, I slathered SHAMPOO onto it. Not the body wash that was sitting RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. No, I lathered it up with SHAMPOO.
Shampoo that’s in a bottle that doesn’t even remotely resemble the bottle of my body wash.
How does this happen?
Sleep deprivation.
Nathan, of course, didn’t let us get much sleep last night either. The little guy has been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed since early this morning. I just laid him down for his nap, and I can hear him in his room talking to himself.
Trying to be LIKE HIS MOMMY.
“Nya nya nya nya! Oye Oye Oye! Rar MA MA!” he says. So I sneak through the hallway and peek my head into his room.
He has kicked one sock off, dislodging it from his foot like water off sliding off rocks. Those naked toes are wrapped around one of the crib rails, clinging to it with a tenacity to be reckoned with. His other foot still has its sock on, so the sock-foot and his arms are flailing aimlessly in the air. Those arms flail around until one of them randomly strikes the base of his mobile, the part attached to the crib rails.
CONTACT!
Instantly, all his senses are awakened. He rolls over, still managing to keep his naked toes wrapped around the crib rail while draping the other leg over it. Like a human pretzel. He starts banging at the base of the mobile, fingers splayed, searching for buttons or lights or KNIVES or whatever baby fingers are looking for whenever they roam all over an object.
Nathan, 6 months old, playing with his feet instead of sleeping
Satisfied that he is okay, I slowly edge away from the doorway.
The floor creaks.
DAMN YOU, CREAKY FLOOR.
I immediately pause in The Stance. (I mentioned The Stance here, during one of Nathan’s naptime failures.) My heart thuds loudly in my chest. I wonder crazily if he has super-sonic hearing and can hear my thumping heart.
I breathe. Slowly.
Nathan’s searching fingers pause briefly over the surface of the mobile. He waits a few seconds, apparently waiting to see if there is any more creakage. Satisfied that the world has not come to an end behind his back, he finally continues exploring his new find.
I continue to slowly back my way down the hallway, mindful to avoid the especially creaky parts of the floor. And now I sit here, listening to Nathan muttering to himself as I type this. He’s got to be tired. How can he not be tired? But alas, he is apparently not tired.
Let’s hope he takes his nap. Not only for himself, but for me as well.
Because mommies need naps, too.
Recent Comments
Aww thanks, Tina, it was good to see you too! I wish I could have talked to you more... I ...
I'm sorry you all had a rough go yesterday, but it was good to see you both :) I have ...
Thank you, I appreciate that. It's so cool to hear people say that we look alike... I've been told there ...
Awww... what really nice photos! You two look so alike, especially with the way you smile.