:: retail therapy ::

IKEA rocks the planet for people watching. I make up little stories about them in my head. The very strange looking ones, I make them super wealthy. If you're a freak of nature, you should at least have good cash flow in my world....

I got this and this for Rio's room. I also got these for my closet which I really should post a photo of. It is epic and disgusting and I love it. Bear actually got my shallow ass to leave my whole life for a giant closet but that's another story altogether....

what's ugh?

I will flesh out a couple of stories that Bear has asked me to over the next few days.....

We were in our room, having a sort of argument about something. He was blahblahblahing about something or other and I was making my usual non-sequitor replies.

bear: That's really all I'm saying.
me: That's rarely all there is to say.


he moves to his closet door and talks at me, still in bed...


bear: Honestly, I just wish you'd pick up your clothes once in a while.
me: (faaaaaart)
bear: What's 'ugh'? What does 'ugh' mean?

I start howling with laughter. He thought my fart was me saying 'ugh'. Yeah, I guess a lot of these stories are funnier if you're there. So now he's always saying, 'What's ugh?' and then we laugh. Hardeeharhar, huh?

maybe a better one?

There is a reason my husband doesn't do drugs. Turns out, he's not so good at them. Case in point....

I had gone to DC for a couple of fun filled days with my former state representative's daughter. I called Bear to see how everything was going. He couldn't talk but asked me to call him that night. Okaaaaay.

He had troubles sleeping. He took a couple of Ambien. Then, about 30 minutes later when he found himself still awake, he took a couple more. And then more. ...and more. This is where the fun begins.

*ring,ring* telephone at 2 am....

bear: H'lo?
gossipy next door neighbor: Are you alright?
bear: Of course. How are you?
gndn: Your house alarm is going off. What's going on over there?
bear: Umm, I'm battling a small fire....
Sets the phone down and starts making shuffling noises so she yells, gives up and calls 911.

*ding dong* cops at the door

bear: H'lo?

It is important to point out that Bear is dressed in nothing but a work shirt. Yup, no pants, hell, no underwear. And he has rugburn on his forehead and knees from falling down the stairs.

cop: Everything ok, sir?
bear: Yeah, sure.
cop: Uh, ok, do you know how to turn off this alarm?
bear: Yup. It's in the basement.
cop: ... Can we go down there and see?
bear: Sure thing..
and he leads them downstairs and shuts off the alarm, all the while smooth as silk and half naked.

The cops leave. Bear goes to bed for the rest of his good nights' sleep. The next morning as he backs out of the driveway, Nosey Neighbor shoots out of her front door and up to his car.

gndn: How are you this morning?
bear: Fine, you?

He thinks what a weirdo she is and drives off. When he frowns, he notices a tight feeling across his brow and discovers the rugburn when he looks in the mirror....

He makes me call the cops when I get home. I, of course, rush home that day cuz he can't tell me exactly what went down except for the rugburn, broken banister rails and the cop's card on the table by the door!

me: I'm calling about the incident at ** Jackson Road...
cop: Well, basically maam, your husband came to the door with his gonads hangin' out. Once he got the alarm shut down and we determined it wasn't a domestic, we left him to his own party...




Yeah, half the gene pool....

gulp

Last night Bear walked the nugget around when she woke up at 11 cuz she went to bed too early. Getting a schedule down is tough with an infant! So, he brought her to bed with us because that is how she sleeps the absolute best. One hand on dad, one hand on mom. I woke up at 3 am with the corner of my pillow over her face. It's ok cuz her face was turned to the side and my pillow is of the lightest down so it didn't crush the breath out of her but still. Shit. My heart is still pounding thinking about it. I grabbed her to see if she was breathing and she didn't wake up, just mewed. That's it. No more sleeping with us. It is way too nerve-wracking. I mean, hell, how do you continue to live if you suffocate your baby by mistake in your sleep?! She's in our bed now, taking a nap. I just keep circling the bed like a shark, thankful.

My heart is still in my throat. Today might be a bad one.....

FUUUUUUUUUUCK

More lessons from how fickle Blogger can be. Did you know that if you preview, check a link and then back up, you lose your entire post? I feel like I'm back in the early days of computers when you would be on a wild tear, writing, creating, not saving and *poof* it would be all gone. So, who knows what genius was lost? Ugh.

CLEP

College Level Examination Program. I CLEP'ed 33 credits. Simple stuff. One of the tests I was approved by the Dean to take was Algebra. Not such simple stuff. So, it turns out I've mostly graduated Magna Cum Laude from my college. I still owe this test. I was hoping that my karma was spectacular enough for it to somehow disappear that I've taken no math. No such luck. Crap. So I'm doing the self teaching book before I take it in 2 weeks. The only problem is I can 'hear' that in my brain, I am SO not paying attention....

The difference between a polynomial and a binomial is blahblahblahblah..IwonderwhatDawson'sCreekepisodeplayedtoday...didIremembertofeed
thedogs...isthatpoopIsmell?blahblahblah. Wish me luck.

Ooo la la LA lala

Overheard from Bear's conversation with Rio just now...

bear: The official complaint of the day is 'Ooo la la LA lala'.
rio: Ooo la la LA lala.

So damned cute. But not as cute as when he sings this song to the nugget. You have to understand he has a very deep voice so when he tries for that high note, and he does, it is pure comedy. That poor kid doesn't stand a chance in hell at having musical talent. Well, aside from Bear's Hoffman Syndrome*** and how that makes him such a superior drummer.....

She remains the perfect baby...

Mothers, turn away. Everyone else...guess how long Rio slept last night? She had a bath at 9 was asleep by 10 and slept until 4:45 this morning. Is that incredible or what?! I left a message for my best friend, who is breastfeeding her newborn every hour on the hour, that she should watch her mail cuz I'm sending formula and bottles! Seriously, the breast feeding is going well for someone with mangled milk ducts. She is growing like a weed and is super strong. I love how she whips that head around, too. *sigh*

Ok, I have to stop typing so I can listen to Bear converse with her. He makes my heart soooo happy. Ok, except he's saying to our baby, "This diaper is huuuge. They're as big as my grandmothers. That's some funny shit. Here's a dry dizzle for your pizzle. Ooo, fartronella is in the house."

*sigh*
teehee :)


*** I couldn't make the trackback work so here's what I was referencing above....

from June 11th

hoffman syndrome

Speaking of my funnyman..... He comes home yesterday from a new neurophysical (?) doctor as he tries and tries to recover from January's car accident.

Bear: This guy is so smart. He took out all these kinesiology books to show me exactly what he was talking about. And he did all these tests and showed me on a giant chart exactly how the nerve bundles grow from infancy through adulthood. It was fascinating!

me: *wrinkling forehead hoping I never have to go to this guy*

Bear: And he said I have 'Hoffman Syndrome.' You know what that is? (At this point he begins to hold his fingers up in weird configurations, flicking certain ones in an effort to recreated the tests the doc was doing. He looked silly.)

It means I'm hyper reflexive. The doc asked if I had superior hand eye coordination. ( I immediately thought of his drumming skills and juggling skills. Here's a hint: His drumming practice sessions are 40 second spats of drumming punctuated with loud "Fuck!"s when he misses something. His juggling, while impressive, causes the dogs to leave the room lest they be beaned again.)

me: Does this syndrome explain why you have to hang your mouth open for your hyper reflexivity super duper hand eye coordination to kick in?!

Evidently, there is no direct correlation. Go figure.

:: she's got a waaaaay about her, don't know what it is, but I'm sure that I could live without her..... ::

That would be the sound of the other shoe dropping. I was dropping a pal off after she dropped off Bear's new favorite toy** when Mother- called. She told Bear that my grandfather was in the hospital dying so I should give a call. Then she regaled him with the tale of Keith. Keith is the guy she was shtupping while he spent winter break from college at our house. The tale now goes that he wanted to drop out of law school to take care of her (her language) and she wouldn't allow it so now he has her to be thankful to (again, her language) now that's he a big lawyer in California. That and she was married to Jim about 29 minutes after her divorce to George was final, but facts don't figure hard in Mother-'s life. Bear said it was a bizarre conversation, at best. She told him how Keith was a lifeguard and built like a brick shithouse (again, her language) and how she didn't know where things would go but she was excited to see and all that jazz. So, 2 minutes giving the number for Grampy in the hospital and 15 minutes of Keith this and Keith that.

I walk in and Bear hands me the phone with an eye roll so I don't know anything. She tells me my grandfather has a mass on his kidney, 80 percent blockage of 3 arteries and his pacemaker, newly installed, appears to have a low battery.

I start to cry. Mother- says there is no need to be upset. I ask if he's going to be alright and she says, "Probably not. This is probably it for your grandfather. He has Jill there (my aunt of whom my Mother- is insanely jealous) and that's who he wants so I'm sure they'll figure out how they want to handle things. If you have questions, you should call Jim."

NOW...my mother went for more than ten years without speaking to my grandparents for some sleight, real or imagined. She thinks everyone likes Jill better because she's prettier but it really is because Jill isn't an evil witch.

Jim is her ex-husband (a critical care nurse who is fabulous at his job) who I am in contact with because he's the only father type person I ever had that wasn't a total fuckwad. She is always trying to get info about him from me. All I've spilled is that he lost 40 pounds and looks great...twist, twist.

M-: He's had a full life and he is surrounded by the people he has chosen. Did they call you (knowing full well they had asked HER to call me so they had not...)?

me: I don't know how you can be so blase about his situation but I can assure you that even if he was 120 years old, I would still be upset that he's sick.

M-: Really, Nita, he's 87 and it's silly to feel that way. This has been coming for some time now. He's an old man and his health was bound to fail. With the mass on his kidney probably being cancer and his imminent heart failure, they'll probably just let him go.

At this point I'm seething. I am so tempted to throw her overblown reaction TO HER DOG'S DEATH up in her face. Remember her reading the whole dog book and then crying about Ben? Who's been dead for more than 4 years?! And I'm supposed to just be 'okay' with my grandfather's death.

me: You're certainly entitled to feel however you want to about your father and I'm entitled to feel whatever I am feeling about my grandfather. Now, I'm going to call him and tell him I love him. Goodbye.

And I hung up. I called the hospital and got Grampy himself.

G: Hi darlin'!

me: How's it going, kid?

G: Ok. I'm going to have open heart surgery on Monday or Tuesday. The kidney business is just a thick coating of some sort, so that doctore isn't too concerned. Says we can figure that out after surgery.

me: How are you feeling about all this?

G: Well, darlin', I guess it isn't my time yet although I may pop the doc who put in this pacemaker right in the nose! Low battery? Don't they check these things?! Hahahahaha.

I wanted to kill her. At the very least I wanted to call her back and tell her if she could get off the phone with Keith for A FUCKING MINUTE and fact check before she called me she would have known what was really going on. I'm still pissed today but I didn't call her. And I'm not going to. She has shut people out of our lives ever since I can remember. She is the Queen Mother- of the grudge and the world record keeper for holding them. I am not going to speak to her for a while. I'm going to use caller ID as it's supposed to be used and she can go take a flying fuck at a donut while I try to purge this rage I have inside. Bear and Rio and the doggers really help....

My grandfather is probably going to keep on ticking. Evidently, the time bomb that was niceMother- has finally exploded. We all knew it had to end this way, right?


**On a lighter note, you'll never guess what we got for a hundred bucks and a full head of three color highlights....



Maybe I should have taken the money for doing the highlights, whaddaya think?!

and I'm slippin' into the Twilight Zone...

Truly amazing music came from the '80s and you know it.

Mom arrived on time and watched Rio while I cut and colored some hair. She didn't tweak me again. It is getting harder and harder to deny this nice streak. She isn't seeing her crazy Vemont therapist anymore (and I don't mean that in the nice way, I mean that in the actionable way) and she's not taking the zillion drugs that said crazy therapist used to give her and I really think it's making a difference. Yay for us.

She is still overly emotional and insane so there is THAT to deal with. She called to let me know she'd made it home alright. Honestly, you'd think she had to drive through a real life Mad Max stretch of highway to get home the way she's so always so thrilled to have negotiated her way to safety on I95!

She had stopped and bought a dog book. Pictures and little captions. So, she called, said she'd made it (whew!) and then proceeded to read me the caption that accompanied each and every photograph in the book. Even after I said I could look at it when I visited next. Even after I asked if it was a long book. Even after I gave up and just started talking to Bear while she was reading. She made it all the way through the book and then started crying cuz she misses her dog that has been dead for 4 years. And she has a new one. Sometimes I just think she'd be better off in a nice.safe.place.

Like a sanitarium.

Whatever.

ZZZZZZZZ

So.....Rio slept 6 hours again last night. I swear I have the most perfect baby on the planet. Today we are going to Breastfeeding Consultants. We are going to weigh her before and after to see if she's really getting anything. There will be no pictures of this exercise, regretfully. Oh, it's not that I'm shy. They are top secret there so no cameras, you see.....

Tragedy on the homefront

Bear has poison ivy. If you know of any remedies please send them along because if he continues to bitch about it, I'm going to scrape it off with a big knife.

Thank you.

make room in the trash for all parenting books

Last night Bear slept in the guest room because he has some big meeting today and he can't sleep through this one. Fine, Rio and I head to bed around 10pm. By 11 she is fed, clean and dry and laying next to me in bed. We fall sound asleep playing, which is nice if you haven't done it recently. At 2:30 this morning she woke both of us up fussing around. I do a clock-check. Three hours, okay, she could be hungry.....OR she could sleep for a little bit longer. I roll her up onto my chest and she goes right back to sleep. Until 5:30 this morning!! Yes, six hours of sleep for the nugget. Looks like she'll be on my chest until she crushes the life out of me.

On another note...

I try to keep these 2 up for as long as possible when I see them. Ali, my goddaughter with Rio....



and SamSam The Frying Pan Man, keeping himself entertained.



These kids are so great I can't even explain it. When I found out I was pregnant I called their mother and said, "Ok, write down everything you did with Sam and Ali. I'll need to know it all." I'm still waiting....

Mother's arrival is imminent

And I'm not even concerned. She has been lovely lately so who knows what she's on. We'll see if it lasts. She is all jazzed up because she's back in contact with some dude she was shtupping during her second marriage. He's 15 years younger, divorced now and she's planning a trip. What a trip THAT should be. I don't want to know. So, I'm going to shower and then bathe Rio and wait for Mother to arrive. I'll keep you posted....

my god-daughter

I'm more of a secular god parent and actually, I got upgraded from Fairy Godmother. I almost prefer that.....

Ali and I have traveled these paths before. We were crazy about each other from the first moment we met which was when she was about 18 months old and her mom brought her into my old hair salon for a haircut. She was the worst wiggle worm for years and I am happy and sad that she sits so still now, like a big girl. She is getting ready to go into middle school this year which is big. She has had teachers that were actually threatened by her and I worry for her alot, although she doesn't really need me to. She is the most wonderful bundle of character I know. She is simultaneously incredibly brave and such a little girl. She can be snarky and then blink at you with her giant eyes and you don't mind at all. She is an unbelievable actress. When she is on stage, she is all you want to look at. I have cried at every single one of her plays. When she does her first Burger King commercial, I'll have to quit television... She is very very bright, incredibly witty, beautiful as all hell and special to her core. She makes me wish I was a better person so I never ever let her down.


Rio and her rocker

She likes this, despite the 'I'm so bored with this' face.



She is growing like a weed. Already she is too big for some of her clothes. Too long, to be precise. We are loving her like crazy and she remains perfect. She also remains up all night. I let her sleep on my chest sometimes and everyone says what a bad idea that is. I really don't care. She sleeps. I'll worry about the transition when she's 11 or so. Seriously, she's just too young to leave her crying about sleep when it's so easy for us to find it for her right there on my chest :)

I just found this haiku that I wrote the day after returning from Ocho Rios...it was the day I got pregnant :)

what a vacation!
fun and sun and r and r
but i did miss home

fat folks on the plane
overtook my extra seat
so i could not nap

i was excited
flying in over boston
just a few more hours...

i phone him first thing
i'm supposed to head up north
he says i should go

'i want to see you
i missed you so much, my sweet
didn't you miss me?'

i am a bit sad
i was gone-and forgotten
so i tell him this

'wellllll,' he says slowly
'you know the stuff on my list?
the stuff that you need?

the time really flew
i thought i could get stuff done
sadly, i did not

i will do it ALL!
i will start in the morning
the list will be done!

the molding downstairs
even your messy closet
and the garage door

paint will really fly
the cleaner will be busy
with all of my piles

i will clean the rugs
straighten up the kitchen shelves
even wash the dogs!

kelly is coming
i have yet to make her bed
she will need clean sheets!

that needs to be done
i know how to make a bed
at least, i think so

so-go to vermont
i'm not ready for you here
i got a late start'

so i say to him
'i know you forgot the list
it's ok with me

i'll do the guest room
the rest of the stuff can wait
plus, i miss the dogs'

i can hear him smile
'so what are you waiting for?
get your tan ass home!'

:: the sound of one hand clapping ::

The spell has been broken, for the moment. Rio retired at 11pm after her exhausting day of sleeping only one hour at a time and feeding every two. Whew. Bear hit the door and I only let him get changed before handing the wee one off and crashing like a drunken Kennedy. I slept from 6pm until 11pm and feel much better for it. The big news is Rio slept from 11 until 3:30am. Yippee! And right now she's considering her mobile and laying quietly in,what I hope, is nearing sleep.

Bear got a little taste of what our days can be like. He said he was only able to set her down long enough to whip together a sandwich and she screamed all the while. I remain so thankful she's not a fussy baby in that this behaviour is quite out of the ordinary. If he should encounter this sort of 'don't put me down or I'll reallllly start to fuss' behaviour, here are a couple of tips on how to do things one-handed...

eating
Forget about it. Settle for a glass of water because you can balance the glass on the shelf under the spigot. Use plastic in case the dogs knock it off. That way you can just leave the whole mess on the floor until she DOES nap and then you'll just have to mop and not clean up glass.

You could have crackers, but without cheese cuz it's impossible to spread with one hand. The container scoots all around and you end up dropping it on the floor. See 1st note.

bottle prep
Difficult, at best, with one hand. That is why I was so frigging aggravated with you when I discovered that you had used the last bottle this morning and left me with none prepared. I guess that was my price to pay for the 1.5 hours of sleep I grabbed before you headed to work?!

To check the level of what she's had, place the bottle firmly between your legs and screw the top off, releasing the suction in the liner. This is where you'll be glad that I don't use superhuman force to put the tops on....

bodily functions
I recommend sliding the pants down on the far side of the arm you have free. Some clothes cannot be wrenched down in this fashion and it's best to know that before you get the one easy side down and under one buttcheek.

Wipe however you can. Try not to get anything on the baby.

doorbell
Another thing in the growing list of 'fuck it's. You can't hold the baby, the door and the dogs back all at the same time. So what if the UPS guy hears you talking to Rio and not answering the door? If you do decided to try to answer the door, make certain you've pulled the one easy side of your pants back up after discovering the other side won't budge.


Now, before you all start to think Bear is falling apart under the pressure, well, consider this: he is incredibly resourceful and brilliant. Just last night he got Rio to sleep after a mere 5 hours. Here is the proof:



She fell asleep on a pillow from the couch so he put her in her portable bassinet on the main floor and then when it was time for bed, he simply put the whole shooting match into the crib in our room. Brilliant or what?!

tick tock, around the clock

Rio graced us with smiles, coos and burps every 2 hours since 7 o'clock last night! That means: 9pm, 11pm, 1am, 3am, 5am, 7am, 9am, 11am and most recently- 1pm. She is looking at her mobile while her mom prays she takes a nap. She has been nursing all day in bouts and fits. We're having a lazy-who-cares-what-time-it-is kind of day. Nice.

so sad I don't even know how to say it

My friend MAC called today to find out what happened with a mutual friend. She was due in 3 weeks and lost her baby . The child had been moving around inside her like crazy and then just stopped so she went to the hospital for an ultra-sound on Saturday. The cord had knotted and the baby had died. I don't know why they say 'lost'. The baby was right there, inside her. She delivered a still born because common wisdom says it helps with closure. I say 'horseshit'. Words are not coming because I am so not in the place to even consider something like that. I just held Rio in my lap and didn't mind for a minute that she could be considered 'fussy' today. So we cuddled, I cried, she cooed and we sent the girl and her baby white light for healing and the transition. I'm absolutely sick to my stomach.

If you lose your parents, you're an orphan. If you lose your spouse, you're a widow. If you lose your child it is so awful, there isn't even a word for it. Pray, or do whatever you do, okay?

:: carjackings and other irrational fears ::

Rio and I had our first big adventure. We packed up and headed to Vermont for a midweek break. The intention was tri-fold, as my intentions usually are. First, Bear needed some sleep and he would be able to snooze away with us gone. Secondly, my pals needed someone to house-sit and keep an eye on their 16 year old son. Thirdly, there are dozens of people who hadn't even laid eyes on Rio yet, including my cherished god-daughter.

So, we went on late Sunday afternoon. I won't bore you with the amazing amount of gear that I felt compelled to pack, but let it suffice to say that the back of my new station wagon was jam packed. I fed Rio and then jumped in the car so we could make it to Vermont during her nap.

She didn't wake up until Barre which is 30 minutes from Stowe. I pulled off and parked in a commuter lot, across from a fire department. I have been in the backseat of a car in the dark before, but never has that experience included abject terror. I was breastfeeding her and looking all around and thinking the most awful thoughts about what might happen in the dark in the middle of nowhere at 10 o'clock at night. I had a complete plan for tucking Rio into the footwell, springing out of the car and murdering the unseen boogieman with my keys. Not so relaxing but we made it through our pitstop without incident and I didn't have to murder a single person.

Stowe wasn't bad. I visited with my dear friend Penny and her lovies; daughter Lindsay and grandson Carson. I saw Bobby for a New York second. I went to a pond and watched Carson catch frogs. It was all okay except that my skin was crawling off my body and all I wanted to do was get home. That second. Immediately.

I called the homeowners and explained I had lost my mind and was pretty sure it was at my house in Connecticut. I started to bawl uncontrollably and they were lovely about understanding and making other arrangements. I packed all the stuff back up, and headed home at 8 pm.

I was exhausted on the trip home. I was rubbing Purell on my face to stay alert. I burst into tears about 15 times. I realized I couldn't stop for coffee or go to the bathroom without bringing Rio inside and thus, waking her up. Then I would have to try to find another safe spot for changing and feeding. I had imbibed a couple of Red Bulls so my guts were roiling and I really had to go.

I pulled waaaay over on a shoulder. I got out and walked around to the passenger side, without getting struck by a passing vehicle and thus leaving my baby stranded and alone on the side of the road. Obviously I couldn't go into the woods and leave Rio to be carjacked in my highly desirable Subaru. So I peed next to the car. I had to go so badly that the splash was intense, soaking my sheepskin flipflops and my velour track pants up to the knees. Of course, my feet were drenched in my own urine, as well. I burst into tears for the 16th time, took off my pants and shoes and got back in the car.

I arrived home at 12:30, sobbing with no pants on. Bear seemed happy to see us.

***

So I know I'm not depressed. If one more person says, "Post partum depression" to me, I'll scream. I love my baby and my husband and my dogs and even my messy house. I think I would be able to tell if it were depression although I am sure as shit I'm having some sort of hormonal issue.

I always go a million miles an hour. Multi-task? I invented it when I used to read the New York Times while training myself on the potty. I can take an insane list of 'to do's' and turn it into 'just another busy day'. To be overwhelmed by a little travel and some visiting? Unheard of. But it happened. And I learned my lesson. I don't have post-partum as much as I have 'exhausted post-partum agoraphobia'. I just want to be home where I know where the extra diapers are, I have 3 chairs for breastfeeding with comfy pillows for Rio, I know Bear will be home soon to lend a hand.

I realized I can't do it all and shouldn't try. I am not well-versed enough with the care and feeding of Rio to take the show on the road. Anyone who needs to see her, can visit. And they can put their drink glass in the dishwasher. Yes, this child is changing my life in ways I couldn't have imagined. I'm becoming sensible.

no one said it would be easy. no one said it'd be this hard

People tell me I sound nothing like Sheryl Crow....

Breastfeeding.

I, for one, was blissfully ignorant of the new judgmental hot button issue of the day. I figured; tits, hormones, nature takes over and voila! I don't need no stinking formula. Oh how wrong I was.

I was reading this little gem that made me want to cry and I'm inspired to post instead of folding laundry and waiting for the babe to awaken.

Breastfeeding is rugged. Every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to make you feel like a criminal if you give your baby formula. Formula has become shameful.

I noticed today that it is kept waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay in the back of Babies R Us. Coincidence? I think not.

I see the looks of Those Who Are Successful while I'm cruising Similac. Today I was trying to figure out which was the cheapest way to make the stuff: Ready To Feed, Concentrate, Powder in 3 sizes, Single Servings.... To make matters worse some of the measurements are metric and some are ounces/quarts so figuring it out would have taken a calculator and a conversion chart. All that made worse by TWAS pursing lips and clicking teeth. I felt like an announcement had gone out over the loud speaker:

Lazy and uncaring mother picking out formula needs assistance in aisle 17 waaay in the back. I guess we know who lives under a rock and doesn't know ' breast is best'. Not only has she given up on what her child really needs, she's looking to do it cheaply. Darcy, see if you can help her poison her child, please.She'll probably want to look at polyester crib sheets after that. Easier to clean and iron...

Breastfeeding seems like it should be simple but it is not. There are about a zillion books on how to do it, keep doing it, start up again doing it, why you should do it...ugh. I am trying. I had a breast reduction so I could wear clothing from the same fucking stores on this one body instead of Gap 8 khakis with Lane Bryant 2x tops. So shoot me. Here's what breastfeeding entails for me:

*fenugreek*
I was told a side effect was smelling like maple syrup. In actuality, it makes me smell like a goat that has rolled in maple syrup that was oozing out of a dumpster. AND it gives me ungodly gas that can be heard rumbling in my gut from 8 feet away. Oh, and it didn't work but I was told that I should stay on it while taking the

*metochlopromide*
I don't want to look it up because I don't want to know it was originally used for male pattern baldness or some shit and a side effect was squirty boobies. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. So I take it 3 times a day. My mouth tastes like there is a nickel under my tongue. I have nausea, constipation and diarrhea in alternating bouts, and it feels weird to pee. But the pumping had in fact doubled. Before Rio did her magic trick of nursing I was pumping an astounding 1.5 ounces. That was collected over the entire day. At great physical discomfort with my tits pulled out 2 inches, 34 times a minute. Yes, I count. It helps to keep me from screaming.

*beer*
I drink one a day. That isn't a complaint. It is the only good news I got about all the things I should be doing.....

*fatty foods*
Yup, was told it was vital because breastmilk has a lot of fat and fatty foods will help bring it on. So now I worry that my workouts are sabotaging my milking efforts.

*the solution*
Fuck it. I am eating what appeals as my appetite has been class A-1 shitty since last November. I drink Becks Dark cuz I like it. I am taking the meds through the next cycle and then I'd like to return to a minty fresh mouth and a body that smells of Coco Chanel, not Eau de Goat. Fuck it.Fuck it.Fuck it. Rio is gaining weight, tracking with her eyes, trying to find her mouth with her hand and she makes about 27 really funny faces. She telegraphs when she's pooping and she doesn't seem to hate me at all for giving her Similac. In fact-she chugs that shit. And crosses her hands across her chest and makes cooing noises as the bottle easily slides the nectar down her gullet.

Are we breastfeeding? Yes. Does it make me ridiculously happy? Yes. Is it best for her? Probably. Will I be forced to wear a cutout nipple as a mark of shame when my milk fails, as it inevitably will, when I end the 2nd course of meds? I hope not.

I have nothing against those the people who have mastered and perservered and perfected and whatnot, the Womanly Art of Breastfeeding. I think it is amazing and wonderful. Just try to understand what others go through, ok?

:: the all boobie network ::

All boobies, all the time.

Rio has become a breast-fed baby. Last night we had one marathon session where she had NO FORMULA WHATSOEVER. Who knew?!

Bear knows really great swear words

and he's busting them all OVER the basement. He has a new universal remote that may not be as easy to set up as he may have thought it would be. For example, I was trying to watch a show and he turned the tv off and on and off and on and now I'm blogging because I can't watch the show with volume, although if we turn the TV off the surround sound seems to work fine......

He just caved and called the kid from Circuit City to come over and help. That means I have to go to the packy because he won't take money but he will take a case of beer.

??

Then we're off to BabiesRUs, the bank and the car dealership. I left the EZPass in the car we traded in last week when I joined suburban momhood. Yup, a Subaru Outback is now my ride of choice. With all the gear that it is going to take to get me and Rio to Vermont for a few days...I shoulda gotten a dump truck.

And how is your weekend so far?!

~never say never~

Of course you realize by now that Miss Rio is the embodiment of perfection, yes? Then it will amuse you to know that 'she never spits up' is now a thing of the past. She had her usual 'fussy' time last night. We were up, singing and eating and fooling around and then eating some more. We came upstairs to see if sleep might be in the near future. No. So we went into her room to rock and maybe nurse** some more....

She made the 'I have a burp stuck' screech so I sat her upright for a back pat. She turned her head toward me and shot 4 ounces of formula upside my head. It hit my cheek, neck, upper arm and she was covered too. Surprisingly, not that gross.

Yep, I'm somebody's mom.

**

For the last 2 days Rio has been a breast feeding machine. My pal, CG came over and helped me with some breasty type tips. Rio was being a big showoff and latched on like a lunatic. Well, then she just kept doing it and it seems to agree with her. She's up to an 80% latch rate from a maybe once a day latch rate. We're thrilled. I am happy to report that the feeding prior to the milk bath was primarily formula as I was running a bit low....

I f-ing hate Blogger

Because not only will your long ass terribly witty post be annihilated if you use one of the tempting 'helpers' in the above toolbar, but you will also lose aforementioned post if you try 'control b' for bold. It's like a damned HTML from hell program. Try a shortcut, lose your place in line.

Next, please.

As I WAS saying...

but I've pretty much lost that loving feeling. I was saying that I had a nice time with my mother today. I spent the whole day poised for the attack. The 'I told you so' or the 'I can't believe you're so _____ (insert something pleasant here so I know she didn't KNOW I am smart or capable or whatever doesn't suck)' or the 'I certainly wouldn't dream of doing it that way'.... or the myriad of other slings and barbs she has at the ready.

Nope. Just a nice visit. Yummy totally fattening lunch with lobster and avocado and a bowl of butter and other fat and tasty things. She didn't make me want to cry or scream once. Not once. Unbelievable. AND she gave me this neat ottoman that will go really well in our bedroom and Bear can stop complaining about kicking the wrought iron footstool I'm now using for nursing although it's been there for over a month so why the hell doesn't he just walk around the damned thing because I need to prop my feet to properly rock the wee one...

Uh, see? Her kindness has me all out of sorts.


:: more pictures, you say? ::

I could so tell you were just watching my mouth and not really listening....

:: one month check-up ::

Little Miss Rio is doing very well. She is 21.5 inches long and 8lbs 4.5 oz...

Her doctor is quite pleased with her progress :)

Wowza.

:: COOT ::

Today, kids, something new. I have been finding myself in some interesting outfits of late. Never knowing what time Miss Rio will awaken or for how long she may be among the conscious, well, I've been throwing clothes on in a rather haphazard fashion. At least every couple of days I pass a mirror and think, "WTF"??!! So, on those days when the COOT factor is amuuuuuusing - I'll share.

pink tennis shirt
bear's boxer briefs
pink sheepskin flipflops
*no special jewelry....

Yeah, quite a visual.

mmmmmm

I was in the near dark of our bedroom with our baby sighing on my chest looking at Bear's feet sticking out of the covers when I was struck by how perfect the whole thing is.

i'm a little bit sad

Mike Tyson is all done and, believe it or not, that makes me a little sad. We TIVO'd the fight and just watched it.

Bear said it, "He looks like a little kid". And he did. All stunned and without the bravado he usually displays pre-match. The boy can talk some ridiculous shit. But at the end of round 4, he just looked like a kid who had somehow ended up on his ass.

Of course, just when your humanitarian side is feelin' him, he tries to sneak in a late punch after each round.

What is going to happen to him, I wonder....

~bear rocks the planet~

My friend, Parker, is here for a visit. We have closed the doors to non-performing visitors so those who plan to stay the night should also plan to:

*cook
*clean
*strip their own bed
*watch Rio while I bathe
*watching me bathe is extra....

Parker is amazing. She is helping Bear organize his new office space. We both got booted for the nursery. Mare helped me with mine so now Bear will be set, too. Additionally, our offices are now 3 floors apart so we might actually get something done although I do pine for the good old days of, "I'm sending you this link. Check out this guy's hair!", but we'll live.

Why does Bear rock today? After having me pretty much yell at him for 2 days straight, he decided I need some sleep. We ordered out - pizza - and then he sent me to bed. At 7:45. I was down and out by 8pm. Until the 3am feeding. Seven hours of pretty much uninterrupted sleep. I feel so good right now. I just cleaned the kitchen, put away 2 baskets of laundry, decided what needs to be ironed and then sighed cuz it will never GET ironed, and I'm in front of my computer ready to tackle digital picture organization. I'm going to group, burn to disc and then make a copy of each photo to keep with the discs. Don't you wish you had more pictures of yourself as a child? Our child will grow to know her parents are insane shutter bugs ;)

:: it's amazing what one can tolerate ::

...and for a change I am not talking about my mother...

I talked to BabyBrother today. He still hasn't seen Rio. I'm not sure what's up with that, but I'm sure it is something that could use professional help sorting. *sigh* Anyway. He mentioned that he had finally purchased a new television. I know he watches a ton because he has tinitus and can't bear silence. I asked him why finally and he said:

I've been losing a line of pixels like every other day for months. Last night I was watching a movie I hadn't seen and realized that all heads were completely gone. It freaked me out a little so I got a new tv today.

He's an odd duck, that one.


:: back to work ::

For all of us. Did you go visit MOT yet? This is the last (maybe) unsolicited plug. I saw her today with her man and little men so they're on the brain. I am going to visit this week with my nugget because MOT already knows I'm nuts so if I get stressed out and have to leave after 15 minutes for some bizarre reason she will understand...

Ah, 400 pictures beckon....