Friday, August 31, 2007

One Month

Rolo will be one month old tomorrow. On one hand, I can't believe it's already been a month. On the other, I can't believe it's only been a month. It's not that I feel like it's been longer because I've gained so much experience and have this thing down pat. Rather, when you're awake for 21 hours a day, the days just seem longer.

I haven't talked much about breastfeeding. After a disasterous start, Rolo finally caught on to the boob thing. Turns out he and I just needed to go home, relax and learn together about breastfeeding, without the pressure of the lactation nazis. That being said, I still use a bottle for most feedings. Although he latches on just fine, Rolo is what they call a "rester", meaning he'll nurse for 15 minutes, then take a nap for 15-30 minutes, wake up hungry and want to nurse again, only to fall asleep. At that rate, all I'd ever do is have him attached to my boob. I wish I had more patience and some days I do take my time and let him nurse and nap at his own pace. But mostly, I pump and give him a bottle so I can see how much he's eating. Strangely, he drinks down a whole bottle without falling asleep.

I haven't tried too much to get him on a schedule. Other than I try to feed him at about 11pm, so that he'll sleep until about 2 or 3am. Some nights he's good about going back to sleep, some nights, not so much.

The thing about having a child, and one of the reasons I was so hesitant for so many years about doing so, is that it's the one thing in your life you can't undo. You can switch jobs, move to a different state, get divorced, but you can't undo being a mother. It's with you all the time and sometimes you feel like you'd do anything to walk away for just an hour. Your life is nothing like your old life and I think you mourn that old life a bit. You want it back, maybe just for a day.

I mean you do get fragments of your old life back, but there are tradeoffs. To have dinner with your husband uninterrupted means making sure the baby is sleeping during dinner time. If you want to go get a cup of coffee, there are 15 different steps that need to happen before you can go out the door. It can be maddening. On the other hand, there are those small moments of your old life and when you experience them you think, "I can do this, this isn't so bad."

I was hoping I'd be like Mighty Girl--she makes having a baby seem effortless, like she didn't miss a step. Like her old life just continues with some minor modifications. On the opposite side of the spectrum is Dooce who makes every aspect of motherhood seem like an ordeal (note: I know Dooce had post-partum depression and that's not what I'm referring to here). I think I fall somewhere between those two women.

I was also hoping Rolo would be the kind of happy baby that I could take anywhere and I'm still holding out hope that that might develop. But right now he's gassy and has reflux, so he's in a pretty crappy mood when he's not sleeping. And I refuse to be one of those people who brings the screaming kid to the wine bar. Hopefully, I'll resume happy hours soon, provided I can make this kid a little more positive.

Tomorrow we're taking Rolo to the trailer, down by the river. It'll be his first get away and frankly, Mama needs the change of scenery. I'm bringing cupcakes and a candle to celebrate my little man's one month birthday.

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Thursday, August 30, 2007

A Drawback to Breastfeeding

So the boob juice has laxative-like qualities. Which became evident when Rolo had a poop while I was feeding him that was so explosive, it shot out of his diaper and all over my pants. And I mean all. over. my. pants.

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Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Ho Hum

You know what they don't tell you after you've had a baby? How freaking BORING it is.

Now that I'm getting my strength back--which is another thing they don't tell you, how completely weak you'll be for weeks after you deliver--I am getting out most days but only for short periods of time.

TV has been my friend. I've decided I hate Sandra Lee on the Food Network. I had gotten a great and easy guacamole recipe from her a couple of years ago, but since I've now watched her show a few times, I think she is completely drunk when filming her show. Possibly on uppers too. The "Barefoot Contessa" mostly has recipes that seem too difficult for me, but her voice is so quiet and monotone that it's the perfect backdrop for naptime.

I love, love, love House Hunters on HGTV. I wish it was on 24/7.

By the way, in case you were wondering, 4a.m. is the hour when HGTV switches from its regular programming to infomercials.

Seriously, I need to get out more. My baby goat is currently bleeting again, so I'm going to see if he's interested in taking a walk.

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Monday, August 27, 2007


Maggie Mason has a very cute baby. In fact he was the cutest baby I ever saw. Until I met this guy:


Thursday, August 23, 2007

The Incredible Shrinking Uterus

I left the hospital earlier this month looking about 6 months pregnant, which I had expected because all the books tell you that you will look 6 months pregnant when you give birth and that you better bring maternity clothes to go home in. Like I was planning on wearing my Levi's skinny jeans home or something.

Anyway, by 10 days post pardum, I was able to fit into some of my larger size regular clothes. Now my maternity clothes don't fit, but most of my regular clothes don't either, so I'm having a bit of a fashion crisis. Maybe I need to go shopping.

My abdomen, of course, bore the brunt of the weight gain. I expected that. But it seems my ass and hips got their share of it too. I had expected not to be able to button my old pants, but it's disheartening to not be able to get them over your hips. But, then again, since it's only been 3 weeks and I haven't exercised at all, I can't really complain. I may not have my old figure back, but you wouldn't know I was pregnant recently either. Plus, according to Hollywood standards, I still have 3 weeks before I have to be ready to walk the runway.

By the way, it's weird not being pregnant anymore.

Three more weeks until my 6 week post-pardum doctor's visit and at that, I'm expecting the green light to get back into an exercise routine. Which means I need to decide on a gym to join. In the meantime, I've got to start taking Rolo for regular walks. This week has been a complete wash because of the rain.

What they don't tell you is how completely exhausted you'll be after giving birth. I'm not talking about sleep deprivation--that's a whole other thing. I mean getting winded from walking up a flight of stairs. I mean walking 10 blocks and being quite certain you can't walk back home. You all know I was in shape, that I had been working out until about 3 weeks before Rolo was born. So it shocked me to be this weak for this long. Just in the last day or so, it's gotten better.

Baby steps, I suppose. No pun intended.

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Tuesday, August 21, 2007

I Gave Birth to a Goat

A couple of years ago, I remember Dooce complaining that her daughter sounded like a goat. Or maybe it was a sheep. At any rate she claimed Leta bleeted. Like an animal. I had no idea what she was talking about until now.

Rolo bleets. Like all the time. It's a half-cry, half grunt, but he sounds like a goat. It gets very old. It switches to full-on grunting and/or screaming when he's trying to poop. Which I don't understand, because his poop? It's a loose, yellow explosion, which would lead me to beieve it's effortless to get out. So is the grunting really necessary?

As an aside, I had commented in the past that it's a shame that Dooce's kid has those bags under her eyes, and now my kid has those same bags. Karma is a bitch.


Friday, August 17, 2007

Not So Much

And now it's raining. So our outing is postponed indefinitely. Right now we're doing tummy time and Rolo is rockin' out to U2's Rockabye Baby.

Maybe I'll make cookies.

In other news I did make it out to the rectory on Monday with no problems. I've taken a shower and put on make up every day. I think Rolo appreciates it.



I think maybe I'll take Rolo outside today. Because he hasn't been since Monday and that seems wrong.


Wednesday, August 15, 2007


My godmother passed away yesterday. She had some awful, rare disease, that is sort of like Parkinson's, only worse. They had given her about 8 years to live. She lasted a year and a half. The truth is, it's better this way. She had a terrible quality of life the last 4-5 months and it was never going to get any better. But it still sucks royally. She was 59 years old and one of the sweetest, most beautifully flawed people I've ever known.

She's my mom's cousin and best friend. The services are this week in Long Island, and with Rolo, I'm not sure how I'd ever manage to make them. I feel awful about that. Truly awful. Ron's mom can watch Rolo, but I'm not even sure I'm up for the drive.

I feel awful.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Someone Get Me a Cocktail

So far, for the past two mornings I've managed to shower, put on lotion, dressed in normal clothes AND put on make-up. You hear so many horror stories of new mothers who forego showering for days and I've never understood that. I mean the kid does sleep, right? You can't sneak in a quick shower then?

Anyway, I'm proud of my little accomplishments. So far, you know, it's not so bad. Of course, I didn't leave the house yesterday. In fact, with just a few exceptions, I haven't left the house in the last week and a half. Which, if you know me, you know is weird. I like being on the go. I'm not really a veg-on-the-couch kind of girl.

Today, I'm going to try to be more ambitious. I need to go to my church to pick up forms for Rolo's baptism. Oh, did I not tell you I named the baby Rolo? Well, actually, I didn't, but a friend of mine came up with that nickname due to some confusion about his real name. So I figure he needs a name on this blog, so why not Rolo?

So, since it's a bit cooler today, I'm going to try to make it to the rectory today. This prospect fills me with a good bit of anxiety. First, because it's a 13 block walk out there. And what they don't really tell you? Is how freakin' winded and depleted walking will make you post-delivery. It's ridiculous. Then once I get there, there are three or four stairs up to the rectory door, but they're not really deep stairs, so I can't take the stroller up with me (sidenote, the Bugaboo with the bassinet seat is ridiculously long--it's like driving a Lincoln towncar. I can't wait until he's old enough for the other seat). Right, so I'm going to have to leave the stroller on the sidewalk, run up the stairs, ring the bell and then run back to the stroller. Which will take all of 2 seconds. But still being separated from the stroller that long will make me nervous. I could take Rolo out of the stroller, up the stairs with me, and I may do that, depending on what the situation on the sidewalk is like when I get there.

Then, assuming someone answers the door, I'll need to drag the stroller and baby up the stairs into the rectory. I'm the type of person who stresses about logistics. Like I need to get to the bus stop 15 minutes before the bus is scheduled to arrive so that I make sure I don't miss it. I like to streamline things. It's impossible with a baby. And I'm not so good at manuveuring the 'Boo yet...and there's the whole complete depletion of strength thing too.

Then there's trying to time this outing--ideally for when Rolo just eaten and had a diaper changed. Because if he starts wailing in the middle of this walk, I'm not really sure what to do. I mean obviously, I'd feed/change him, but where? A Starbucks? See? I get lost in the logistics.

So I'm going to try this, because I do need to learn how to get around the city with a baby. This is my life now. But it's entirely possible I might get to the rectory, decide that the walk was an excursion enough, and turn around for home before getting the forms.

In addition to this little task, my other goal is to write out some thank you notes. Ron and I have some of the best friends EVER. Everyone has been super-generous with gifts for Rolo and just about everyone who's come to visit has brought food with them. The thoughtfulness of our friends really brings me to tears. Which, come to think of it, isn't hard to do these days. But, the point is, Ron and I are very lucky.

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Monday, August 13, 2007


R: I'm really jealous that you get to stay home with him.
Me: Really? Want to trade places?
R: I would love to. I wish I could.
Me: Yeah. Me too.


Friday, August 10, 2007

The Joys of Sleep Deprivation

Why does no one tell you that having a baby is hard? Just kidding, that's what everyone tells you. Ever see that Johnson & Johnson commericial that says "Having a baby changes everything"? Yeah, that keep running through my head. Never have I been so exhausted, so frustrated and so rewarded.

I've already had what I assume is only the first of a series of nervous breakdowns. I'll post the obligatory labor story at some point when I can actually think, but for now suffice it to say, that my labor wasn't too bad. My labor nurse was great, as were the residents and attending that delivered the baby. My post pardum care? TOTALLY SUCKED. It might not have been too bad had the lactation nazis, er, I mean consultants, didn't have me starving my child. When he refused to nurse, they let him go 24 hours without eating until I demanded that they give him formula.

I had assumed that I'd be the one who really didn't enjoy breastfeeding--it never occured to me that my son wouldn't want to either. I wasn't mentally prepared for the lactation nurses to torture both he and I repeatedly. They were trying to help, but being flanked on either side by them, and having them aggressively forcing my son's screaming head to my boob for a hour every two hours left me in hysterics. I couldn't stand to see my baby scream, his little chin quivering violently.

Strangely, the less interested he seemed in breastfeeding, the more I wanted him to do it. I felt like a failure, and it wasn't until we saw a pediatrican this week that things got somewhat better. He's still not really nursing, but at least I'm handling it better.

On the positive, he makes some of the cutest faces I've ever seen. He genuinely seems to like me. I know that sounds strange. But when he's crying, Ron will pass him off to me and he'll stop. It's a good feeling. He likes to fall asleep on my chest and I haven't experienced anything so sweet as a little baby head nuzzled into my neck.

More to come. The little man is currently sleeping and I'm going to wake him to show him it's the hope that he'll sleep tonight.


Saturday, August 04, 2007

It's a Boy!

So, I had a baby. A real, squiggly, furry, little baby. He comes with baby-smell and everything. I'll be going into hibernation for awhile, because really, while I love Blogger, I really love sneaking in an extra 5 minutes of sleep more. Oh, and I need to figure out this mothering thing.


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