Occassional Cuntiness Disorder
I have been quite bitchy over the past few days. Mr. Fussy Pants has been driving me to Liza Minelli levels of insanity (anyone catch her bizarre interview with Matt Lauer? She actually fucking name-dropped Ben Vereen!)
This morning for example, he woke up gassy and I have spent the past 3 hours trying to get him to settle down, meaning: no time for ME. I am forced, like most mummies, to take advantage of small windows of opportunity. I managed to cut a bagel in half and put it in the toaster= YAY! The bagel sat in the toaster, however, till it was sesame-covered cardboard=BOO! After I finally got a second to smear cream cheese on it, it sat patiently on the desk until I finished nursing Nate, all the while trying to keep Scout (the cat) from eating it for me. Finally gave up and decided someone should enjoy the bagel, so I let Scout at it. Interestingly she managed to lick off all the cream cheese while leaving the chives in the spread behind. Skills.
I reboiled the kettle 3 times and then I finally got a tea bag and some water in a mug, only to have it steep for so long that the tea tasted like tar. Since the Dog is at work (and who can complain when he actually has work!) I know that I will not have a shower today, eventhough Kerouac is coming over to meet the baby later and I should try to look presentable. But the bathroom hasn't been cleaned since just after I came home from the hospital, so I have bigger issues than just keeping myself clean for company right now. Such is my new life.
Saturday, we met my sister-in-law and the Dog's neice for lunch on Queen St. It was Nate's first visit to a restaurant. It was also my first time nursing in public, which I managed to do discreetly. My sister-in-law has chronic OCD and had an attack after I complained about not being able to shed the last 7 lbs of pregnancy weight. To be honest, if I were her, I probably would have wanted to slap me too. But none of my pants fit and it's pissing me off.
Nate also took his first streetcar ride on the way to the fancy bra shop where I got a cute nursing bra... for a whopping $80 after tax! But hey, cute nursing bras are hard to find. Looking at sexy lingerie was depressing mind you and I got out of there in a hurry.
On Sunday we had our first visit to Mamacita and Grumps' (a.k.a. Yaya and Dede) house since before Nate was even in the world. My aunts, uncles, cousins and cousin's kids were there, as well as Big J and her parents. Sista Sunny cooked up a huge gourmet feast. Nate was a superstar. He slept in the car seat for the first two hours and then woke up all cute and let everyone watch as I changed his diaper and heard a million and five bits of old world advice. Then he let various large-breasted women carry him around. I was really proud of him. He was so skittish in the beginning that I was beginning to wonder of my social life would have to die as a result.
Monday I met some coworkers at a bar and left a bottle of hand-squeezed lait for the babe as the Dog babysat him solo for the first time. Heh. The Dog REFUSES to read any of the baby books and mocks me for reading them. He doesn't realize that the books are my friends. They are reliable and help me figure out what to do when I have no fucking clue. So my OCD set in and I decided not to give any advice, not to suggest that perhaps a chapter on bottle-feeding would be helpful... I just kept my big mouth shut for once and headed off to the land where the Bloody Ceasar was calling my name. I had a great time out and after a few hours, decided to call the Dog to check in. The baby was SCREAMING in the bg and the Dog sounded like he was going to punch a hole in the wall. Correction, the Dog actually said, "I've tried everything and he won't stop crying. Now I just want to punch a hole in the fucking wall!"
Me, unfazed: "Yeah...well... I'll be home in a bit."
My OCD flared up. Fuck that noise, I didn't want to go home to that crap. I was free! FREE! Out in the world! With adults! So I sat back in my chair while Kerouac and Suzy Q finished their bevvies. I got home over an hour later to a husband who resembled Saddam when they pulled him out of that hole. The OCD had not subsided and I taunted him a bit by grilling him on how he had administered the bottle, insinuating that he had done it wrong. He looked deflated and I felt badly, even if it was fun to show him how hard this all is on me.
I took Nate and told the Dog to go for a walk, hoping the light of the moon would possibly de-werewolf him. Nate nursed and fell asleep ASAP and did not wake up for SIX HOURS! Which rocks, except that by missing the interim feeding, my breasts had turned into rocks and I had to squirt the extra dose out at 4:30 in the morning. Ick.
Now the cat is meowing like mad by her bowl, which actually has food in it. I realize now that she too has OCD, but the Compulsive kind, as she insists that we scratch her ass while she rubs her head against the table legs. Only then will the bitch actually eat cat food. Hmph.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Friday, February 04, 2005
On sMothering
We all know that babies are cute. However, what many women fail to realize ( or tell their fellow femmes) is... some days, you just want to smother them. Not with love and kisses. No. I mean smother them with the nursing pillow.
Yes, I'm awful. But seriously, have you ever spent 9 hours with an inconsollable baby? Yesterday, Nate cried from noon to 10:30 pm, with a cuppy short naps in between. He had sever gas and seemed to be "backed up" and no amount of different positions and rubbing on the back was getting him to calm down. Everything I did seemed to make matters worse and I'm sure the neighbours thought I was killing him. (I came close a few times.) When they tell you in prenatal class to "never shake your baby" you think to yourself "Who's getting so pissed off that they could shake the shit out of a cute baby?" Then you get your own and you think "Aha! Now I get it!"
Thank God both his grandmothers came over in shifts, because the only thing that saved yesterday was being able to take a shower when Grandma S was over, and watching The O.C. with Sista Sunshine while Mamacita soothed Nate. I offten diss my mom as being annoying and old world, but I gotsta give her credit: last night she was amazing. She was the only one who could calm him down.
On the other hand, my mum-in-law pissed me off a bit. She came over in the early afternoon. I was having a giant cappucino mug of soup (getting used to eating with only one hand) and she says, "Got anymore of that soup?"
Now had she brought us a casserole or something to help us out, I would not be complaining. But no. Instead she brought over some Norwegian cultural costume that the Dog wore when he was like four or something. I have no room in this tiny place. Where the hell am I going to store that for the next 4 years? My dad said I was being too negative and that it wasn't worth getting upset about. He's right but I need to vent. For the most part, I have been blessed with a fantastic mother-in-law. She doesn't get up in my grill and she is a wonderful woman. But she wouldn't be a mother-in-law if she didn't piss me off sometimes. It's only normal. I'm sure she's not thrilled with everything I do either.
Anyway, I heat her up a precious bowl of the incredible chicken soup that Sista Sunny made. She enjoys her soup and her grandson while I wash the dishes. It's a catch-22 situation, because like most women I am not comfortable with other women doing things in my kitchen. So even when she asks me to pass her a mug so she can make some tea, I insist on making it for her. Anyway, none of this is a big deal, but at the time every little thing was getting under my skin.
We move from the kitchen to the living room and Nate starts freaking out. I get anxious. I feel like if she just hands him to me, I can calm him down. But how do I say this? So I don't. After an hour of fussing and her trying to make him feel better to no avail, I suggest that perhaps he is hungry. she says she doesn't think so and continues to dance around with him. He is still wailing. So finally she gives him to me, I feed him and he falls asleep. Then I hand him back to her and head for the shower. I guess there is no real point to this story, but dealing with a mum-in-law and a shrieking baby—with no hubby as a barrier—can be a bit trying on the nerves to say the least.
So motherhood is not awesome every day. Some days are truly hell and you wonder why you ever thought it was a good idea to throw your fabulous, new pair of shoes a month, go to cool places whenever you want, lifestyle out the window. I have been barfed on, pissed on, shit on. My bras and my body destroyed. My hair a frizzy unkempt mess. My former frivolous fashionista ways replaced by pragmatism and practicality. I haven't read a non-baby book since 2004!
But then I look at his beautiful sleeping face on my lap, and I just want to squish him. No, not with the nursing pillow, but with kisses on his gorgeous lips and squeezes to the arms that are starting to pudge out and roll over at the wrists. Yeah, it sucks a bit, but man is it ever worth it.
P.S. new photos added
Yes, I'm awful. But seriously, have you ever spent 9 hours with an inconsollable baby? Yesterday, Nate cried from noon to 10:30 pm, with a cuppy short naps in between. He had sever gas and seemed to be "backed up" and no amount of different positions and rubbing on the back was getting him to calm down. Everything I did seemed to make matters worse and I'm sure the neighbours thought I was killing him. (I came close a few times.) When they tell you in prenatal class to "never shake your baby" you think to yourself "Who's getting so pissed off that they could shake the shit out of a cute baby?" Then you get your own and you think "Aha! Now I get it!"
Thank God both his grandmothers came over in shifts, because the only thing that saved yesterday was being able to take a shower when Grandma S was over, and watching The O.C. with Sista Sunshine while Mamacita soothed Nate. I offten diss my mom as being annoying and old world, but I gotsta give her credit: last night she was amazing. She was the only one who could calm him down.
On the other hand, my mum-in-law pissed me off a bit. She came over in the early afternoon. I was having a giant cappucino mug of soup (getting used to eating with only one hand) and she says, "Got anymore of that soup?"
Now had she brought us a casserole or something to help us out, I would not be complaining. But no. Instead she brought over some Norwegian cultural costume that the Dog wore when he was like four or something. I have no room in this tiny place. Where the hell am I going to store that for the next 4 years? My dad said I was being too negative and that it wasn't worth getting upset about. He's right but I need to vent. For the most part, I have been blessed with a fantastic mother-in-law. She doesn't get up in my grill and she is a wonderful woman. But she wouldn't be a mother-in-law if she didn't piss me off sometimes. It's only normal. I'm sure she's not thrilled with everything I do either.
Anyway, I heat her up a precious bowl of the incredible chicken soup that Sista Sunny made. She enjoys her soup and her grandson while I wash the dishes. It's a catch-22 situation, because like most women I am not comfortable with other women doing things in my kitchen. So even when she asks me to pass her a mug so she can make some tea, I insist on making it for her. Anyway, none of this is a big deal, but at the time every little thing was getting under my skin.
We move from the kitchen to the living room and Nate starts freaking out. I get anxious. I feel like if she just hands him to me, I can calm him down. But how do I say this? So I don't. After an hour of fussing and her trying to make him feel better to no avail, I suggest that perhaps he is hungry. she says she doesn't think so and continues to dance around with him. He is still wailing. So finally she gives him to me, I feed him and he falls asleep. Then I hand him back to her and head for the shower. I guess there is no real point to this story, but dealing with a mum-in-law and a shrieking baby—with no hubby as a barrier—can be a bit trying on the nerves to say the least.
So motherhood is not awesome every day. Some days are truly hell and you wonder why you ever thought it was a good idea to throw your fabulous, new pair of shoes a month, go to cool places whenever you want, lifestyle out the window. I have been barfed on, pissed on, shit on. My bras and my body destroyed. My hair a frizzy unkempt mess. My former frivolous fashionista ways replaced by pragmatism and practicality. I haven't read a non-baby book since 2004!
But then I look at his beautiful sleeping face on my lap, and I just want to squish him. No, not with the nursing pillow, but with kisses on his gorgeous lips and squeezes to the arms that are starting to pudge out and roll over at the wrists. Yeah, it sucks a bit, but man is it ever worth it.
P.S. new photos added
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
1 month old!
Nate-Dawg is the coolest! We just went to the Neonatal Follow-up Clinic at Women's College Hospital. They assessed his movements and checked out his overall development. Dr. Doctor (no joke. dead serious, that was her name) said that:
1. At four weeks old he is exhibiting the development level of a 7 week-old = Nate is advanced!
2. By looking at him and examining him, it is very hard to believe that he is someone who had MRI results that said what his did = Nate rocks the block!
3. Nate now weighs 9 lbs 7 oz and is 22 inches long = Nate is da bomb!
Unfortunately, he has to stay on his sedative until May, which will slowly ween him off the drug as he gets larger and the dose stays the same. Oh well. Small price to pay for such a miraculous little guy.
I love my little boy. He is incredible. I have added some more photos if you haven't checked in a bit, so click the link on the right. We are going to have a little cake ceremony around 4:30 to celebrate his monthiversary and his awesomeness! Will take a photo of the party with the cute cards that Crafty made up for us. (you'll see what I'm talking abut tomorrow.)
1. At four weeks old he is exhibiting the development level of a 7 week-old = Nate is advanced!
2. By looking at him and examining him, it is very hard to believe that he is someone who had MRI results that said what his did = Nate rocks the block!
3. Nate now weighs 9 lbs 7 oz and is 22 inches long = Nate is da bomb!
Unfortunately, he has to stay on his sedative until May, which will slowly ween him off the drug as he gets larger and the dose stays the same. Oh well. Small price to pay for such a miraculous little guy.
I love my little boy. He is incredible. I have added some more photos if you haven't checked in a bit, so click the link on the right. We are going to have a little cake ceremony around 4:30 to celebrate his monthiversary and his awesomeness! Will take a photo of the party with the cute cards that Crafty made up for us. (you'll see what I'm talking abut tomorrow.)
Escape from Babyland
I forgot to tell you all that I managed to get out sans baby twice last week. My first solo outing was on Thursday. I went to the Duff (the scary mall closest to where we live for those who don't know) to get part of a group present for a baby shower. It was fun, mostly because I love shopping. Though I did feel guilty for getting carried away with the time and having too much fun with my credit card and without Nate.
Then on Saturday, the Dog was working and I had this baby shower to go to with Blondie. Mamacita and Grumps came over to watch Nate, while I showered and actually got to blow-dry my hair straight. Then Grumps drove Blondie and me to the party. I hand-expressed some milk into a bottle that morning just in case, and I fed Nate before I left from the boob. The hand expressing involved me holding the opening of the bottle over my boob, while I squeezed milk into the bottle... by hand. No pump. It was quite like milking a cow and the milk even came out in streams and made the sound that cow's milk makes when hitting the pail (you know the one). Interesting. I desperately need to buy a pump so I don't have to go through that torture again.
We got to the baby shower fashionably late and it was so good to see my coworkers again. The moment I saw them I got a hankering for a drink. I was so jazzed that i could use my daily allowance of 1 alcoholic beverage. I almost cried with joy. Then I almost cried with disappointment as the guest of honour whispered to me that her in-laws didn't bring any alcohol. Screeeeech! Say what? The bloody tony condo we were at had Canada's largest liquor store RIGHT NEXT DOOR! Holy crap did that suck. Ah well.
I was nervous about leaving my parents with Nate for too long, so I rushed home after a couple hours. I had left Mamacita to make her own mistakes. She has been bugging me about using diaper wipes, telling me that I should be WASHING his bum in the sink each time I change him. "Mommy doesn't wash your bum? Mommy is too lazy to wash your bum, yeeeeesss... Ya-ya will wash your bum... yeeeeesss ." Oh lord. She's also been bugging me to leave him hanging out in the open after a diaper change to lets his stuff "air out." She doesn't realize that a) she aised two girls 30 years ago, and b) he's a boy and "airing out" only makes him have to pee -- all over everything!
So I get home and there's a receiving blanket on the change table, because the brand new clean change table cover has been soiled during one of these "airing out" episodes. "He just did a little brrrt and a little bit of something came out with it," she admitted sheepishly.
"Did he pee too?"
"Oh yes, he peed all over the place."
She had also given him the bottle and then felt like he'd needed more. Thank goodness she doesn't know where I keep the emergency bottles of formula or she would have shoved that down his throat too. Just like a typical Armenian mother: always trying to over feed. Anyways, I am grateful to them for looking after him and no matter how much I razz them, I really want Nate to soak up as much time with them as possible. I lost my mom's parents when I was young (6 for Ya-ya and 8 for Dede) and my dad's folks lived in Turkey, so I never saw them more than a handful of times. I always envied those who had grandparents into teenagedom or adulthood. And since we don't know how long any of us will live, it's important that he spends lots of time with them and gets to know them well.
Anyway, I am def. ready to go out alone again. So start inviting me people!
Then on Saturday, the Dog was working and I had this baby shower to go to with Blondie. Mamacita and Grumps came over to watch Nate, while I showered and actually got to blow-dry my hair straight. Then Grumps drove Blondie and me to the party. I hand-expressed some milk into a bottle that morning just in case, and I fed Nate before I left from the boob. The hand expressing involved me holding the opening of the bottle over my boob, while I squeezed milk into the bottle... by hand. No pump. It was quite like milking a cow and the milk even came out in streams and made the sound that cow's milk makes when hitting the pail (you know the one). Interesting. I desperately need to buy a pump so I don't have to go through that torture again.
We got to the baby shower fashionably late and it was so good to see my coworkers again. The moment I saw them I got a hankering for a drink. I was so jazzed that i could use my daily allowance of 1 alcoholic beverage. I almost cried with joy. Then I almost cried with disappointment as the guest of honour whispered to me that her in-laws didn't bring any alcohol. Screeeeech! Say what? The bloody tony condo we were at had Canada's largest liquor store RIGHT NEXT DOOR! Holy crap did that suck. Ah well.
I was nervous about leaving my parents with Nate for too long, so I rushed home after a couple hours. I had left Mamacita to make her own mistakes. She has been bugging me about using diaper wipes, telling me that I should be WASHING his bum in the sink each time I change him. "Mommy doesn't wash your bum? Mommy is too lazy to wash your bum, yeeeeesss... Ya-ya will wash your bum... yeeeeesss ." Oh lord. She's also been bugging me to leave him hanging out in the open after a diaper change to lets his stuff "air out." She doesn't realize that a) she aised two girls 30 years ago, and b) he's a boy and "airing out" only makes him have to pee -- all over everything!
So I get home and there's a receiving blanket on the change table, because the brand new clean change table cover has been soiled during one of these "airing out" episodes. "He just did a little brrrt and a little bit of something came out with it," she admitted sheepishly.
"Did he pee too?"
"Oh yes, he peed all over the place."
She had also given him the bottle and then felt like he'd needed more. Thank goodness she doesn't know where I keep the emergency bottles of formula or she would have shoved that down his throat too. Just like a typical Armenian mother: always trying to over feed. Anyways, I am grateful to them for looking after him and no matter how much I razz them, I really want Nate to soak up as much time with them as possible. I lost my mom's parents when I was young (6 for Ya-ya and 8 for Dede) and my dad's folks lived in Turkey, so I never saw them more than a handful of times. I always envied those who had grandparents into teenagedom or adulthood. And since we don't know how long any of us will live, it's important that he spends lots of time with them and gets to know them well.
Anyway, I am def. ready to go out alone again. So start inviting me people!
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