I am a financial GENIUS. You laugh now but don't judge until you read...

I have decided that after two kids (yeah, I'm going to nut up and have another one in a couple of years) (because I'm crazy like that) I will DEFINITELY be needing a tummy tuck and a boob job. Things are not looking pretty, to put it nicely, in either department. And that's only after one. BB number two is just going to Fuck. Me. Up.

Heidi Klum makes me sick. Three kids and that body? BITCH.

Okay, I can't stay mad at Heidi. She's amazing. (Sigh)

Unfortunately, there is no hope for this body. Or is there? I seriously contemplated this yesterday. And I determined that I really do think I would (maybe) get surgery. Really. (Maybe.) (Okay, probably not. But for the sake of this blog...maybe.)

Then I was all like, "How the hell am I going to pay for it?"

Upon whence (seriously) I had an AMAZING idea.

Since my lovely children (yeah, I'm already talking about the one that doesn't yet exist) will be the ones responsible for my very fucked up postpartum bod, I think they should pay for it.

Yeah, you heard me right.

So I'm going to tax their asses.

The government (local, state, federal) taxes me in order to pay for what we'll call "maintenance." Why shouldn't I be able to do the same to my kids? (That's a rhetorical question. Don't answer.)

But babies and kids don't have money, you say. Oh, not so!

Allowance? TAXED. Birthday money from grandma and grandpa? Toothfairy coinage? TAXED.

After saving it all up for a few years I should have enough for my new "hot mommy" body.

Genius plan, right? You can thank me later when you've saved up for your own hot mommy surgery. In advance: You're Welcome.

RTT: I have no clever title ideas today. Deal with it.

This is another one of those "I'm posting Wednesday because BB got shots yesterday" posts. (More on that at the bottom.)

I really hate it when people have conversations during group classes at the gym. I guess a small part of it's the teacher in me--that whole, "Don't talk while the teacher is talking," thing. But mostly it bugs me because I can't focus. It's a distraction. It's like when people talk at the movies. I'm paying a LOT of money for that class (and the day care) and I'm NOT paying to hear you gossip with your friend...so shut up and let me sweat my ass off in peace.

Facebook keeps reminding Mr. Clean and me that our anniversary is coming up. I guess that means I'll have to acknowledge it. (Not that I'm not, like, SUPER grateful that he is still putting up with my ass after nine years. The man must have super powers of endurance and restraint or something.)

Still celebrating: I found day care! I found day care! I found day care!

Sonofabitch. The fuckers at my coffee stand upped the price of the daily special. (Insert string of curse words here.) Now it's $2.50. I know that's only 50 cents, but it still sucks. It's just not as exciting. I mean, two dollars was a steal. Now it's just "slightly less expensive than usual." And, quite frankly, I'd rather go to Starbucks instead and use my treat receipt to get a drink for TWO DOLLARS. Yeah, it's a smaller drink. But much tastier. And someone has to support the starving artists/college students/drop outs who work there.

Have you seen "Food, Inc."? It will BLOW YOUR MIND. Did you know that our meat actually gets soaked in ammonia?! What the fuck? Would you like a nice glass of floor cleaner to go with that steak? I mean, seriously. Now all I wanna do it buy organic meat. Not that we eat tons of it anyway. (Which is probably a good thing, based on what I saw.) And did you know that the meat companies actually entice people from Mexico to come work for them illegally and then basically "trade" them (turn just a few of them in) to the immigration people so they won't get completely busted up the ass? CRAZY. Do yourself a favor and sit through it. (If you have Netflix I think you can watch it instantly.)

I keep having these great blog ideas right before bed, as I'm drifting to sleep, and then I FORGET them the next day. I always think I'll remember them and then I don't. Guess it's time to start writing them down.

BB had her next round of immunizations today. She did really well with the whole thing. Of course she screamed her head off and cried like mad when she got the shots, but she actually calmed down pretty quickly this time. She was just fine by the time I had her dressed and in buckled in the car seat and was happily squealing and singing in the car before falling asleep. She took a nice big nap and then had a nice be shit/blowout once she woke up. It was so bad I had to bathe her. Not quite as bad as the Poo-pocalypse, but close. It all stayed in her onesie because it's pasty from the rice but it was completely up her back. Getting her out of the damn thing without getting shit everywhere was impossible, hence the bath.

RTT: Now where the hell did I put that binky? Oh, there it is...right next to my sanity.

• Finding child care is a pain the ass. Finding it in my location is an even bigger pain. That's because I live in a small suburb of a larger city and there are far fewer options out here in the boonies than there are in the city. We want something close to home, mainly because Mr. Clean works close by and he's the one that's going to pick BB up. Today I managed to find someone that is probably going to be "the one" but I still have to go check her place out tomorrow. She's at the tail end of the process for getting licensed which is fine by me. She's got 2 kids and one is an infant. She said she doesn't plan on taking enough kids to put her at capacity (6). Her daughter will be at kinder during the day but she has to keep a spot open for her, meaning that she's probably only going to take 3 kids total. It's encouraging. And the rate is $25 a day which is a steal. Please, powers that be, make this work out. 
• Baby Bano is a finicky sleeper. Stick her in the crib and you're luck to get 4 hours before she wakes up, needs to be changed and fed and will go back to sleep for a couple more hours. And that's if you're lucky. Last night she was up every 2-3 hours. However, if you stick her in the car for 15 minutes and take her on a joy ride, she falls asleep instantly and DOESN'T WAKE UP UNTIL 7 AM. (Yes, we leave her in the car seat. There is no way I am going to fuck up the possibility of a full night's sleep for either of us.) 
• Why is it that you can never find a pacifier when you need one?
• She loves her "lovey," which is like a mini-blanket with a stuffed animal attached. It's so cute. She just snuggles right into it. Give her the lovey and a binky and she's good to go. (This is similar to what she has but it's a different animal and color.)
• She SINGS. Seriously. We were at my parents' the other day and she was singing to the music. It was adorable. And when the music stopped, so did she. She sings in the car and almost always when she's tired. She loves it when you sing to her. Ladies and gentlemen, I've got the next Miley Cyrus on my hands.
• We were very fortunate to be gifted with a shitload of clothes from a friend of Grandma Bano's. I have finally finished sorting through them. They are in two GIANT piles on BB's bedroom floor. Pile one is 9-12 months (well, 6-12 in the case of GAP clothes. Seriously, 6-12? Could you be any more arbitrary? It may as well say, "Sometime after birth but before your first birthday.") and pile two is 12+. Those two piles have been sitting there for about 3 days, doing a great job of blocking access to the crib and changing table, and I think Mr. Clean is about ready to lose his shit if I don't put them away or at least shove them into a corner or something.
• SO. MUCH. DROOL. Bibs are now a required part of her outfits in order to prevent her onesies from getting completely SOAKED.

Now go visit Keely for an RTT worth reading.

I Write Like...Your Mom

Have you seen this site? It's called "I Write Like" and after you paste some of your writing into the specified box, it tells you which famous author you "write like."

Which of my beautiful pieces of bloggity-blogging should I use? Gosh, I can't decide! Or should I dig into my old poetry and give that a whirl? Or maybe both? Decisions, decisions.

Okay, here's what I got from using one of my blogs:

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

 Seems fairly accurate, especially since I used the Poo-pocalypse blog. I mean, Stephen is always writing about apocalyptic shit, right? (Just realized there's a bit of a pun in there. Damn, I'm good.)

Maybe I'll try it with some of my poetry later. Maybe they'll tell me I write like Emily Dickinson or Robert Frost or something. (I wonder if it ever just comes back with, "We cannot possibly compare the crap you just entered to the greatest writers of all time. Try again later when you've stopped sucking.")

better haBITS: It's about time!

So the better haBITS have finally begun. This week I've been eating really well (with a couple of minor exceptions) and have hit the gym twice. Hard.

I attended a class called Body Pump on Monday, which is essentially a weight lifting class set to music. You get a TOTAL body workout, and boy was I feeling it yesterday. And today. And I bet I'll be feeling it tomorrow, too. I can hardly walk and have some weird limp because my left calf muscle feels like someone stabbed it. (Don't worry. It's not torn, just REALLY sore.)

BB has been great at the gym's daycare so, like I posted, I went ahead and got the flat rate for 3 months. It's pretty cheap when you think about it. And it's worth it because I actually GO now.

Yesterday I was sore so I took a walk with BB in the stroller. We decided it was a good idea for mommy to go get her $2 special. But instead of a mocha, I was all sorts of good and got a sugar free, fat free, fun free English toffee iced latte. Sounds lame but it was actually good. And so was the walk. BB fell asleep on the way home and took a gigantic nap which was awesome.

Today because my body was all like "Fuck you, you're not going to the gym. I still feel like someone beat the shit out of me on Monday," I had to compromise and be all like, "Fine. We'll just do cardio today." We agreed that sounded like a good plan so I just walked fast (and huffed and puffed) for about 30 minutes on the treadmill and then did some minimal ab work. Good enough.

The scale has been nice. I'm down 4 lbs since last Thursday. It probably helps that I haven't been shoveling mass quantities of delicious, fatty goodness down my gullet. Combined with beating the shit out of my body this week, it was bound to pay off.

I should probably go be a mom or something. She took a shit while I was writing this so I'm crossing my fingers it's not a blowout.

Edit: Said shit was not actually a shit. It was ALL. GAS. She's becoming more like her father every day.

RTT: Kicking Mother Nature In The Ovaries

Oh geeze. It's been a while. Basically I've been too lazy to blog. I haven't had much to talk about and, rather than just forcing it, I figured I'd gather some ideas that may actually entertain you. (Or at least not bore you to death.)

• Do you ever get "eco guilt?" I guess that's what you'd call it. I'm sure there's some fancy terminology for it, but basically every time I forget my own cup at the coffee stand or neglect to bring my own shopping bag into the store, I feel guilty. Like I did something wrong. Like I'm kicking Mother Nature in the ovaries. Using disposable diapers definitely gives me a guilt trip, but they're just so dang easy to use. I just saw a diaper service that may serve my area but I'm not sure because I'm outside of the main city here. However, it would be worth it because it appears to cost less than the disposable ones (!!!) and you don't have to dump the poopy out of them (!!!). Do any of you use cloth diapers? Is it worth it?
• Putting the rice in BB's bottles has been a saving grace for my ta-ta's. Plus it makes her poopy diapers easier to change because it's all pasty and stays put. (I sure do talk about poop on this blog a lot.) (Poooooooooop!)
• BB can army crawl in a circle now. Shit. She's definitely going to be mobile before I'm ready for it. No longer will I be able to lay her on the floor and wash bottles or make myself some coffee. Luckily I can confine her to the exersaucer, which she loves. 
• Every time I go to Target, I come back with at least a million things for BB. Okay, maybe not a million, but definitely more than necessary. On Thursday I went absolutely ape shit in the dollar section and got a bunch of letter, number, and phonics flash cards for her. (You know, because she can totally use them right now. Gotta start the SAT prep early.) (Mr. Clean has now forbidden me to enter the dollar section.) (Ha! Like that's gonna happen!) Today I found a lullaby CD that was 50% off so of course I HAD to get it. And then I saw some of those rings that you can attach the toys to and attach the rings to her car seat so OF COURSE I had to buy them since we don't have any. That place is gonna bankrupt me.
• I finally made it to the gym!!! (You can stop applauding now.) (Okay, maybe just a little more.) And to make sure I keep it up, I signed BB up for daycare. Now I can go any time for up to two hours with her in tow. It's gonna set me back $120 ($40/mo for a minimum of 3 months, which is all I signed up for) but it's worth it not to be a fat ass any more.

That's enough random for today. Hopefully I'll have something to share next week, too.

Want more random? Check out The Un Mom.

!!!, there it is!

Behold: This week's things that make me go "!!!"...

The return of Starbucks' "Treat Receipts." Like I need another excuse to go there.

These delicious Atkins granola bars. Most healthy protein bars have chocolate that tastes like cardboard. Not these bad boys! They're my new "candy bars" and I treat myself to one a day. Super-yum!

 Bought myself a new planner since the old one only went through the end of June. Hooray for half-assed attempts at organization!

Go check out some more !!! at CK's spot.

Things that make me go "!!!"

So, if I understand this whole !!! thing correctly, I get to post about the things that make me go !!!. I think I'm supposed to include photos, but I'm just too lazy/EXHAUSTED for that this morning. I can barely walk straight and avoid putting BB's diaper on backwards.

Considering that motherhood has made me easy to please these days, the list could potentially be miles long. I'll try to contain my !!!...

• Any night when I don't have go get up with BB more than two times. This has been rare as of late, but I got one last night. She woke up at 1:30 AM and 5:30 AM. It still sucks but it's better than the 1:30, 3:30, 5:30, 7:00 crap she pulled Sunday night.
• BB naps. She's taking one right now. I should be taking advantage and getting some extra sleep. Damn you, Blogger!
• The rice in her milk is starting to work. She's slowed down on pounding back bottles like a frat boy. Thank god. My boobs were starting to get scared.
• I lost 2 pounds this week. I had to exercise 4 times to get there (insert exhausted face here), but hey, the scale is finally moving in the right direction.
• The new coffee stand down the road is (A) easy to walk to in about 10 minutes and (B) has a daily special from noon to 4:00 PM that makes me !!! all over the place. A 24 oz. iced latte or mocha for--get this--only $2! HEAVEN. (Unfortunately this does not help with losing weight. I'd probably have lost more if I could learn to avoid these.)
• Baby laughs. She's done it a few times and it's absolutely adorable. She still melts my heart. <3
• Mr. Clean got me a new car stereo for our anniversary (9 years at the end of July), which should be here today. There wasn't anything wrong with my old one, per say. But the new one will...(drumroll)...play my iPod! Woot! I've tried those stupid tuner thingies that you use the static-y radio station to play the iPod through but they never worked very well.

That's enough !!! for now.

She's a maniac, maaaaniac on the floor. And she's eating like she's never eaten before...

Baby Bano is eating like a MANIAC! Good lord, she's hungry every hour--HOUR!!!--and eats an entire 4 oz bottle. My boobs can't keep up with that! Whose can? (Maybe Wonder Woman. Does she have Wonder Boobs and Wonder Milk? Where can I get some?)

So today, I decided: it's time for rice.

The pediatrician had suggested starting the rice at 4 months, but he obviously had no idea that I would be giving birth to a baby with a black hole for a stomach. (I think she's on the right track to become a competitive eater.) And obviously that black hole developed over time because she wouldn't eat when I first gave birth to her.

Because I am one of those moms, I got her the organic rice. I figure for another dollar and change, I'll spare her the pesticides. I used to think organic was a little silly but I recently read the article (haven't we all by now?) that shows a link between pesticides and ADHD. Mr. Clean and I are pretty "chill" people, and having a kid with ADHD might break down the few wits we still have about us.  (I've discovered you lose many of your wits once you give birth. I think newborns absorb them through their skin when you hold them or something.)

Feeding BB the rice was a little tricky, but we figured out that the bottle method is much easier than the spoon method. This was all trial-and-error, with mostly error. First I tried mixing the rice and breast milk in a dish and using a baby spoon. She mostly pushed it around her mouth and out of her mouth. Hmmm. So the next attempt was to use a Nuk bottle with a #2 nipple, with the theory that the opening was large enough for the rice to fit through. (The mixture was mostly milk and only a bit of rice.) And the theory was correct, but BB was all like, "What that fuck is that? Because I only drink from Dr. Brown's bottles and this is NOT a Dr. Brown's bottle. Get that shit out of my mouth." (She's got a mouth like a trucker already.) (She takes after her mother.) Plus, she was practically drowning because the milk/rice mixture was essentially pouring out the the #2 nipple. So we crossed that method off the list pretty quickly.

The final method (which we only got to try for about five seconds because she was PISSED OFF at this point) was to have her drink the thin mixture through the Dr. Brown's bottle. (We may need to get the #2 nipples though.) I have NO idea if it worked because she basically told me to fuck off again. (It went something like, "Mom, quit fucking with me! I am TIRED and you keep trying to feed me this weird shit and all I want to do is sleeeeeep!" But it sounded more like "Waaah!" Scream. "Wah, ahhhhh!" Scream, sob, etc.) Luckily, she was so tired that once a pacifier was administered, she pretty much passed out from all the effort.

My theory is that I'll add a tablespoon of rice to her bottle in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one before bed. My theories about this kind of stuff usually suck though, so if you've got any other suggestions or advice, I'm all ears.

RTT: A kick in the pants. Or the balls.

I'm late. Again. I have a baby, therefore I have a built-in excuse. (I intend to take advantage of this for as long as I can.)

Here's some random for ya:

Baby Bano is probably teething, even though she isn't even three months old yet. She's been getting fussy in the evenings and has even gone on a screaming/crying rampage two nights this week. Of course, I was either asleep or not at home during those times, so it could also be that she just doesn't care much for Mr. Clean, but I highly doubt it.

I finished a book last night. It's from the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich. A friend got me hooked several years ago and I've been reading them ever since. They are really good...at least the first 13 were. The book I finished was number 14 and I think it's time for the series to be done because the plot was as weak as the coffee at Denny's and the climax was about as exciting as watching my daughter drool. Part of me wants to read the next two anyway (I think there are 16 now), mostly because the female lead has two male romantic interests and I want to see what happens. But after reading that, I'm worried the remainder of the series is gonna suck. Guess I'll be borrowing from the library instead of buying them this time.

I took some REALLY cute photos of BB yesterday.

Isn't she adorable?! I just freaking love her. And she has gotten waaay cuter as she's "unsquished." She was, well...let's just say "not as cute"...when she first came out. Yeah. Let's just say that.

I've been extremely lazy about this whole "better haBITS" thing. Hasn't happened. It's not easy to head off to the gym or plan meals when you have a baby, although it's a lot easier now than it was the first month or two. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Mr. Clean is tired of seeing me in the same four t-shirts that are the only ones that fit (two of which are his) (that are too big on him) (!!!) so he's trying to give me a gentle nudge in the right direction. Gotta love a man that wants you to be happy and healthy, even if it's at the risk of being kicked in the balls for trying to hold me accountable for eating ice cream and pizza. (Okay, I don't actually kick him in the balls. I do want another kid someday.) (Someday in the NOT near future, just to be clear.)

The TiVo is in BB's room so that I have good shows to watch while I pump. Last night I paused the show and just left the TV on. Bad idea. At 2 AM, I hear the TiVo's reboot music through the monitor, and it's LOUD. Because I'm already hard of hearing and I always have the volume turned up to "deaf old woman." Well, BB is not a deaf old woman and guess who woke up? Damn. Luckily she went back to sleep after a bottle and a butt change. And I learned a very important lesson: TV off when BB is sleeping!

Well, that's all the random I've got this time. BB is awake from her early AM nap so I'd better go act like a mom or something.

My life in (con)TEXT

Today's text...

Mr. Clean: How about you, me, and a box of Franzia?

Me: I don't know about the Franzia. A bottle of wine might be nice though.

Mr. Clean: But the box is more romantic.

Just sayin'

I'm almost certain that BP installed Baby Bano's blowout preventer. No wonder it doesn't work.

RTT: Button, button, who's got a button?

I made a button for my blog. God, it's ugly. Fugly, really. But at least I finally did it. I've been telling myself I was going to do this for, like, weeks. Maybe even a month. And last night I finally did it. Patience is obviously not something I had a lot of at the time. The truly sad thing is that it actually took me like 45 minutes to make it. Go check it out on my sidebar. Or maybe not. I'd hate for you to go all blind and shit when the fugliness burns your retinas right out of your skull.

This is going to be a very busy week. Actually, make that a busy month. My summer coaching duties always begin in June. We host a week of middle school camp, then have a week of spring practice, and close the month with a week of a pretty intense camp for the girls. That's just June. After that I've got to coach summer league one night a week and hopefully make it to open gym once a week as well until the end of July. This is all normally no problem, but now there's a BABY mixed into the equation. That means finding babysitters for all of these days and evenings. Luckily we've got a good chunk of willing victims family around who are more than happy to watch Baby Bano for a couple of hours. They're all still under her spell because they don't live with her. (Okay, okay, I'm still under her spell, too.)

I haven't showered since Saturday. Even I am grossed out by this. Once BB falls asleep, I plan on using every ounce of hot water in the house to remedy the situation.

In case you didn't catch my last post, BB has discovered her hands and feet. If you ask her, she'll tell you that They. Are. AMAZING. She is absolutely fascinated, especially by her feet. Her left leg is sticking straight up in the air right now and she is STARING at her foot. (How the hell does she do that? It's like advanced pilates or something.) Her hands (fists) get shoved into her mouth at any and every chance. Apparently they are a delicious snack. (Tastes like chicken!) She gets all cross-eyed looking at them when they are right in front of her face.  Apparently it's pretty normal--the eye thing--but it sure freaked my shit out the first few times she did it. Mr. Clean had some "eye issues" when he was born and I've been paranoid as hell that BB will inherit them. It's quite a sight, really: eyes all jacked up, shoving her fists into her mouth with one leg in the air while speaking in tongues. "Yep, that's my kid! Isn't she talented?"


That's all the random I've got. Hop on over and visit the UnMom if you've got time and want a good laugh.

RTT: I know it's Wednesday, but I've got a good excuse.

Yesterday there was no time for bloggity blogging because it was IMMUNIZATION DAY. Since BB is now two months old (that's all?!) it was time for her first round. That meant dealing with a visit to the doctor )which took longer than expected) and a fussy baby for the rest of the afternoon--and into the wee morning hours.

Let me just say that I HATE it when she cries big old tears of sadness. You know--the genuine, real, "Mommy, save me!" kind of tears that make ME want to cry. God, it just breaks my heart in half. And those were the tears she cried while being poked by three GINORMOUS needles, as well as the tears she continued to cry while she SCREAMED last night after waking up from her needle-trauma-induced coma she'd fallen into once we got home. Of course, this completely fucked up her bed time so it was 2:30 AM before she finally went back to sleep. Luckily, Mr. Clean dealt with her (because I made him) from 10 PM until about 2 AM while I napped so that I wouldn't be a sleep-deprived zombie when I took over. Luckily she zonked back out although it required me to allow her to sleep in the bouncy and not the crib. But you know what? I could give a shit. She was so fucked up and sore and scared that I was going to do anything to (a) comfort her and (b) get some damn sleep myself.

That brings me to my next thought which is that we are probably, finally, mostly in a routine! The past few days she has been waking up around 7 AM, taking a power nap from around 11 AM to 1 PM, taking another short nap or two in the afternoon, and going to bed around 11 PM (with the obvious exception of yesterday).

Oh, back to the doctor, since I'm thinking about it. I asked about her eczema and he confirmed that's what it is. He recommended keeping her skin very moisturized (done and done) and said he usually recommends Eucerine Baby but said the Aveeno Baby is probably fine as long as it's thick and creamy. (Which it is.) I've decided to stick with it since it's worked so well thus far. Her elbows look a million times better and so does the rest of her skin.  (Did you hear that, Aveeno? I think that's worthy of a free tube, don't you?) He also said that if the eczema patches flare up, which they tend to when she gets heat rash, then I can use Cortizone cream. He recommended Cortizone 5 for her face and private areas and Cortizone 10 for the other areas. (The 5 stands for 0.5% of the active ingredient and 10 stands for 1.0, so it's a little more potent which is why it shouldn't go on sensitive areas.)

Which brings me to the next item: Costco. That place is great but sometimes it's a little ridiculous. Case in point: I spotted the Kirkland Cortizone 10 cream and it was a spankin' good deal, so I swooped up a box. My assumption was that there were two tubes in the box. Oh, no. I mean, it's Costco after all. There were FOUR tubes of the stuff in there. FOUR. What the fuck am I going to do with FOUR tubes of Cortizone cream? Sheesh. So now there's a tube in each diaper bag (yes, we have two), one in her room, and one in our bathroom. I've got the stuff coming out of my ears.

That's all the random I have time for today. Somebody is awake. At least her feet (Feet! What are those? Oh my goodness, they are SO COOL! I can point them and stretch them an stuff!) and hands (Hands! These are awesome! And I can fit them in my mouth! Oh, yum!) are keeping her occupied...for now.

Snookie *wishes* she could poop like BB

In light of recent poopy events, including--but certainly not limited to--The Poo-pocalypse (I have spared you from the other nasty poo stories. You're welcome.), I have decided that Baby Bano is a truly crap-tacular, poo-mazing little lady and needs a poo-themed nickname.

Are you ready for it? I'm pretty impressed with myself on this one...

"The Shit-uation."

Fist pump!

The Poo-pocalypse

So there I was, minding my own business. (Actually, I'm pretty sure I was washing bottles.) Baby Bano was squirming more than usual in her bouncy chair, but seemed perfectly content. When I finished minding my own business washing bottles, (which I have to do, like, 500 times a day, thankyouverymuch) I walked over to pick up my beautiful baby girl...and I could SMELL the poo. (In case you didn't know, baby poop does NOT smell beautiful.)

Me: "Oh, you need a diaper change, huh poopy pants?"

BB: "Gurgle." Loving smile. DECEPTION.

Me: (picking her up) "Dang, you stink!" And then...(gagging) "Holy shit! You pooped EVERYWHERE! Oh, Christ, it's even up your leg! Ugghhhhhhhhh! Oh, fuck, it's on my ARM!" (More loud, indecipherable noises of disgust coming from me.)

Boo Boo approaches the bouncy around this time, sniffing, trying (like me) to figure out what the HELL just happened. And of course I freaked out because I was just SURE she was going to try to lick and/or eat the poo, which was ALL OVER in BB's bouncy seat. (I am so glad those things are washable.) So now I've got my arms full of poopy infant, poop ON my arm, and I'm trying to keep the dog away from the chunky yellow river of shit in the chair.  (Whoever said motherhood is "difficult" was severely underestimating the entire experience.)

Luckily, Boo Boo's interest in the poop quickly vanished and I dashed into BB's room, using my un-poop-smeared arm to grab a blanket to put under her on the changing table, and proceeded to wipe her down, wipe MYSELF down, wipe her butt, and change her diaper and her clothes. Once I'd accomplished this (about 10 or so baby wipes later), I had to figure out what the hell to do with BB while I cleaned up the gag-inducing mess in her chair. Luckily, we have an extra that we weren't sure we needed but has now proven its existence as necessary. So BB got to sit, gurgle, and smile (BETRAYAL!) while I used another 10 wipes to get the chunks out of the seat, ripped the cover off, loaded it up with Spray N' Wash, and prayed that it wouldn't stain. (It didn't. Spray N' Wash is the bomb.) (Dear Spray N' Wash, please send me some bottles of your fabulous product for giving it a plug. Aveeno hasn't come through yet so maybe you can set the example.)

What's scary is that I know--KNOW--this will happen again. Probably many times.

(SEVERELY underestimated. Seriously.)

Only a string of expletives can convey my admiration.

Oh. My. GOD. Have you read this shit? And by shit, I mean AWESOMENESS! Holy fuck, this chick is hi-fucking-LARIOUS. How the fuck did I NOT know about this? Why have you people been keeping this from me?! Someone--one of YOU--must have known about it. BAH!

It's okay. I choose to forgive you because BB is sleeping (!!!) and happiness (COFFEE) is flowing through my veins.

Maybe too much coffee.

(!!!)

Anyway, you should really go read it. Hours of entertainment awaits!

I hope you wake up when I flush the toilet.

Lately when I get up in the middle of the night with Baby Bano, a resentment begins brewing as soon as I hear her cry. And no, it's not aimed at BB. It's a deep-seeded spite that I feel toward Mr. Clean. Because while he is STILL SLEEPING, I am cleaning up baby poop or feeding BB while I practically nod off with her in my arms. (Okay, I have nodded off. But she's not going anywhere. The Boppy makes sure of it.) (Besides, it's only for a sec because the rocker has zero neck support. It's probably a good thing.)

Look, I took on the role of midnight baby manager fully knowing that it would suck ass. And it totally does. However, I just can't help but want to wake Mr. Clean up too. I mean, why should he get to keep peacefully slumbering away while I have to WAKE UP for the umpteenth time? I WANT HIM TO SUFFER, TOO. For a split second each night, just after the cries begin and I realize I am the one that has to get up, I fucking loathe him. Just for a second. (Don't judge me. You try getting up every 2-3 hours with a baby, sans help, and see how you feel about your spouse.) (Just sayin'.) Yes, I realize I am kind of a bitch in this case. I own it.

Last night I had to fight the urge to leave the bedroom door open while I watched TV and fed BB in her room (which is right across the hall in our very modest home) and resist the impulse to turn up the volume just a bit more. I had to abstain from leaving the master bathroom door open while I turned on the light and later when I flushed. (I suppose I need to inform you that it's not hard to wake Mr. Clean up. He is generally a pretty light sleeper.) (Unless he's had a beer or two. Then it's pretty impossible to wake his ass up.) And I had to fight the immediate desire to smack him awake so HE could take over when she woke up only two hours later.

To his credit, Mr. Clean does tend to her early-morning needs on the weekends. But there are only two of those days. I have to do it FIVE days a week. And I still have to do it on the weekends. Just not EVERY time on the weekends. And he does let me go to sleep early most nights (meaning I go to bed around nine and he stays up with BB until around eleven) so it's easier for me to get up with her later. It's very kind. But I'm still pissed at him when I have to wake up. I don't foresee it changing anytime soon.

better haBITS

Okay, I'm trying to be clever here with a title for my weight loss posts but I'm not sure how I like it. Yay? Nay? Suggestions?

Any-who...

As I previously posted, I'd like to lose the baby weight. I think I declared I was going to exercise three times that week. Um. Yeah. About that. Didn't happen. And last week I exercised...(drum roll, please)...once. For a whole 20 minutes. And I was sore the next day. So very, very sad.

I think I'll try a weekly post about how things are going and really lay it ALL out on the line: what I've been eating (food journal, perhaps?), my exercise (or lack thereof), etc. Sundays may be the best day to do this since I'll have a week's worth of stuff to post.

Hold me accountable, people. And if you're a lurker, COMMENT. Keep my fat ass in check! :) The more, the merrier. In fact, if you're going through the same thing, perhaps we can do something like HASAY up in here? (It was canceled before I could join. Bummer.) And if I figure out how, we can link up and all that crap. (Someone will have to show me, I'm sure of it. Blogger is a bit more complicated than I have patience for.)

Let the better haBITS begin!

Crib Notes

Grandma and Grandpa Bano came to visit this evening. Baby Bano fell asleep so, once they left, I took the opportunity to put her in her crib. (After being lightly scolded by G&G Bano for still letting her sleep in her bouncy.) (High school all over again. Except I didn't have a baby in high school.) (But you get my point.)

After I put her down, I went to bed. Mr. Clean decided to stay up because he's incapable of sleeping before 11 PM on weekdays and 12 AM on weekends, despite the fact that I KNOW he's incredibly tired. But he likes to wind down with some television and internet surfing, so it really is a win-win situation. I sleep, he relaxes. No complaints here. Except that I asked him to keep her in the crib. And he didn't.

Granted she did wake up about 15 minutes after I put her down. (She has a lot more freedom in the crib and I think it just kind of feels weird to her.) I figured he'd try to put her back down in the crib though. Nope. At whatever o'clock when he came to bed, he set her next to me on the floor...in the bouncy. Of course, I was basically still asleep so I just let it go. I mean, it's SLEEP, people! Moms, you know what I mean.

She woke up about 3 AM (I'd already woken up at 2:30 AM with profusely leaking boobs, having not pumped for several blissful hours OF SLEEP, so I was still awake from pumping anyway) and I took the opportunity to feed her and then put her IN HER CRIB where she is now. Making noise. And then quiet. And then more noise. (Noise of choice is grunting. Lots of grunting.)

Right now it's quiet. Hopefully it stays that way because we've been going at this for about 45 minutes. Luckily there hasn't been any crying. Yet. (I'm sure I've jinxed myself here. Way to go, Bano.)

At least I can play Farmville while I wait it out.