Monday, September 24, 2012

Late Night With Lifetime

Alright I said I wouldn't write about baby stuff, but let's be honest, there's not much else going on in my life right now.  What's the topic today?  Um, this baby thing is making the husband and I a little nuts.

For example, the other night our little Avery decided, at two in the morning, to do her best Chuck Norris impression.  For almost an hour she performed round house kicks, punched the air and, I'm not sure, but a little facial hair might have started to come in.  Anyway, I had just fed her, changed her diaper and was at my wits end, when the husband commanded me to go back to bed, and took her into the other room.  After a blissful hour of sleep, I was awoken by a soft cry.  As I entered the living room to scoop my hungry baby up, I found the husband and the baby, both with no shirts on, on the floor watching a Lifetime Movie.  Now, you probably haven't seen this one - it's about this girl who has sex for money, then almost gets killed...oh wait, I'm sorry it was a Lifetime movie - you know the premise.  (I wonder would Lifetime would do if a writer presented a story about a fulfilled woman in a happy marriage?  Can you imagine?  Honestly, this channel's writing team must be filled with battered and broken women.) 

Anyway, after a thirty minute feed, I swaddled Avery, placed her in bed and then got into bed with the husband.  After ten seconds of listening to Avery breathe and trying to go to sleep, the husband rolled over and excitedly said, "So, the pimp is actually an off-duty police officer.  So, he said if the girl talks he'll have her mom and dad killed!" 

Yep, three in the morning and the husband is all excited about a Lifetime movie. I guess it's not just a channel for women.

Friday, September 21, 2012

TV Will Be The Death Of Me

So, I'll admit I've been watching a lot, a lot, a lot more TV since I've had a kid. I try to justify the extra viewing in that there's not much else I can do while feeding my child...I mean, have you ever tried to read a book, while holding a child in one hand, and steadying their eating source (use your imagination as to what that thing is) in your other hand?  No? I'll wait - you try - and then the judging can stop.

No seriously, TV during the week day is not good.  I usually start my morning feed with a little Good Morning America. For those of you who have jobs and lives, this show used to be cool.  Now, it consists of five people sitting at a desk laughing at who knows what, reporting on the weather every five minutes (NEWSFLASH: The weather hasn't changed since five minutes ago) exhibiting two minute news segments, that can be seen on every freaking network, and then back to laughing at some inside joke.  I feel like I'm watching the "popular kids" at lunch attempt to be interesting to themselves and to the people they assume are watching. 

From GMA I jump to local news - which today was AWESOME.  And when I say "awesome" I mean, WHY WAS THE SPACE SHUTTLE ENDEAVOR SUCH A FREAKING BIG DEAL?  Every channel showed this stupid shuttle taxing or flying in the air, with some newscaster trying to contain his unexplainable excitement and wonder at this ridiculous site.  Finally, by six (What?  My kid is having a slight growth spurt and is eating a lot!) I couldn't take it anymore, and blurted out to my sleeping child and to my friends - the walls of my apartment - "Who gives a crap about this shuttle!  Just land the stupid thing."  I guess according to the crowds, yes, crowds of people, who watched the Endeavor all day, my lack of enthusiasm could be classified as slightly "Un-American." So, be it.  BRING ON Mother Russia! 

Did I mention that I probably watched close to five hours of TV today?  It's going to be a long first year.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012


Alright folks, friends and creepy stalkers (you know who you are) I'm making a pledge right now.  I pledge that this blog will not turn into a nauseating mommy blog that only features reports on my child's bowel movements and pictures of them eating homemade baby food.  I promise never to expound the merits of organic foods for children, discuss the different methods of sleep training or make declarations of my joy of being a mother.  I began this blog as a sarcastic observer and will remain so.

So, with that said, please allow this one post of my child.

On September 3, Monday night, I entered the hospital to begin the inducing process.  What is that like?  It's sort of strange because the whole day, before you go to the hospital, you keep thinking, "Let's see I need to shower, eat, I should call so and so...and...oh yeah, let's go have a baby tonight."
Once I got hooked up to the machines and settled, the nurse asked if we needed anything else.  The husband then asked, "Do you have any motrin?  I took a long run today and I think I'm going to be sore."  For those of you who have forgotten this is about my delivering of a baby, I just entered the hospital to push out a watermelon and my husband, who ran a few miles, would like some pain medication.  I thought the nurse's jaw was going to drop on the floor. 

These suck. Why do people go natural?  Do these same people just slam their hands in car doors before they start driving?  That night we listened to two different women have "natural births."  After listening to them scream for an hour I can report there is nothing "natural" about that type of birth.  If you are being chased by someone with a chainsaw then that type of screaming would be considered "natural," but when nice narcotics are available to take the pain away then your stubborn reaction becomes very unnatural.  

Before I was given anything to start the process of birth I was asked what I would consider my pain tolerance on a scale of 1-10.  What a mean question.  I mean, what am I supposed to say?  I was a Division I college athlete, I have biked miles across states - I can't say a four.  Heck, I can't even go six.  So I said 8 - and then for the next 12 hours I thought, as the contractions intensified, "You idiot.  Why did you say 8?  Now look at you.  You can't get an epidural now.  Only a 5 would get a epidural now."  I really hope there isn't a note in my file about how I lied on my pain tolerance level.  How could I ever hold my head up?

There is a God.
Without a doubt this was the coolest thing I have ever done.  A PERSON CAME OUT OF ME!  I will never forget the doctor calling out, "Stop," and then in one motion watching her pull out my baby and almost throw her onto my chest.  They really should warn you that this is going to happen.  For a split second, as I looked down at this bloody mess on my chest, I thought, "Um, someone just threw a random baby at me. People, someone just THREW a baby at me!"  And then, you realize it's yours and you should probably put your arms around it.

So, there you have it.  My experience of having a baby.  I definitely recommend it.  Unless you are 15, living somewhere in the south and are thinking of putting them in pageants.  Then please, please never have sex.

6 Pounds 5 Ounces.  19 1/2 Inches.
Two weeks later she's at 7 Pounds 2 Ounces and 20 3/4 Inches...and I think she's pretty cool.