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.

Eggza-eggza-eczema

I am about 99.9% sure that Baby has baby eczema. She's had a little rash and at first we were pretty certain it was a prickly heat rash. And really, it probably was. But lately she's been getting some of that scaly skin and red bumps--the stuff associated with baby eczema.

Poor thing--yesterday it flared up so bad that I became pretty worried. I hate going to the doctor for something that I can treat at home, so I did some research before calling for an emergency appointment. Turns out that there are a lot of things I can do to remedy the problem. Some things include:

• lukewarm baths every night
• using a very mild, fragrance-free soap at the very end of bath time
• moisturizing her skin right after the bath
• switching to a fragrance- and dye-free detergent

We tried the first three last night and it worked wonders. We happened to have been given some Aveeno Baby Soothing Relief Moisture Cream. I read the front for the first time last night and realized that it actually says RIGHT THERE ON THE FRONT that it helps "soothe and relieve the dryness eczema creates." And you know what? That shit WORKS. About ten minutes after applying the lotion, I noticed a HUGE difference in the redness and protrusion of the bumps. A lot of the bumps went away and the redness toned down by, oh, at least 80%. Her little elbows, which had it the worst and had been really red and bumpy were almost completely back to the normal color. There is still some bumpiness of course, but the texture is smoother and things are looking waaaay better.

(Dear Aveeno, you can send some free tubes of lotion for plugging your amazing product. I won't say no. I'll even do a giveaway. Just keep it in mind. No pressure.)

My sister, SIL, mother, grandfather-in-law, and probably some other family members I'm not aware of, all have eczema. Mr. Clean has allergies. Apparently having close family members with either of those conditions, or with asthma, can mean that it will be passed on to baby. Poor little girl never stood a chance!

I will keep you updated and let you know how this whole eczema thing goes. She has her two month appointment in two weeks. (Really? She's only like six weeks old? I swear she's older. Maybe like 4 or something.) (Okay, obviously not but you know what I mean. I've been home with her for a long time. The days run together. It feels like I've been here taking care of her for a LOT longer than six measly weeks.) Hopefully we've managed to get her delicate little ass regulated by then.

Oh, my leaking boobs.

My boobs leak like a couple of sieves! If I don't pump every three hours and instead wait maybe six hours (you know, to SLEEP like a normal person, in between feedings), the pads are FULL. And I have one boob that leaks about twice the amount of the other. What's with that? I'm going through breast pads faster than she's going through diapers!

What's worse, if I hold her and haven't pumped in a while, they leak under my bra because the pads are full and then my shirt gets soaked. I've even had nights where I woke up not because she woke me up, but because my right boob leaked ALL OVER in bed. (That's the boob that leaks double. It also produces about an ounce more, on average, when I pump. I have no idea why.) Sometimes I'll go through a couple shirts in a day due to leakage. (Luckily I'm at home. Can you imagine what a pain in the ass this would be if I'd had to return to work?)

In late June I'll be helping with a volleyball camp at the high school I coach at. It's an all day event for four days, and I'm trying to figure out how to make it work, what with my boobs being like pin-pricked water balloons and all. The few options I have aren't very appealing. I can rush over to my grandparents' place during lunch (they live just down the street from the high school) and pump then, or I can try locking myself in the bathroom and pumping there. I have a car adapter but I think I might get arrested if I try pumping in the school parking lot. That probably wouldn't go over well.

TGFNT

(Thank Goodness For Nap Time)

Baby is passed out for a mega-nap IN HER CRIB. The reason for caps? We've been letting her sleep in her bouncy chair pretty much all the time so the transition to the crib has been, well...a transition. She doesn't hate the crib but she's not used to it. Plus, if she had her way, she'd sleep on my chest or Mr. Clean's and not anywhere else.

Shit. I jinxed myself. There she goes...

At least I got 15 minutes out of her. Maybe she'll go back to sleep. It was just a little cry. And now she's quiet again...

Nope.

Apparently she just needed the mute button, AKA the pacifier. (The usual terms are mute button and binky.)

Let's see how many more minutes the button just bought me. Let the countdown begin.

Hmmm, back to what I was trying to say. (Have you noticed that babies make you lose your point a lot more often than you did when you were baby-less? My god, I can't have a straightforward thought or conversation to save my life. My thoughts wander to other things, mini-topics about my main topic, and I get lost. Which I'm doing right now. Damn.) Oh yes, the crib. The bouncy chair. Well, it started because Baby was having issues breathing after feeding. Her little nose would get kind of plugged and she sounded more like a pig than a human because it caused her to snort incessantly. Having her sleep upright in the bouncy chair seemed to help quite a bit. And besides that, it's so easy to tote from room to room with that convenient handle.

But now, now that she has a normal human nose and not the teeniest, tiniest little nasal passages I've ever seen, because her nose has finally unsquished (you know, because at first they're all freaking smushed from being inside the womb and all) and she can breathe just fine after pounding back a bottle, I want her to sleep in the crib. I mean, that sucker was expensive. (Not that I paid for it. Grandma and Grandpa Bano paid for it. Because Grandma Bano can't help but buy everything she even thinks that Baby needs. But still.) And besides, at some point she will outgrow the bouncy chair and then where would we be? I mean, I don't want her to be a toddler trying to take a nap in that thing.

She's still asleep. In the crib. Thank god for the mute button. How do I know she's still asleep and not just lying awake in wait, ready to scream any second? Because I just checked. Which leads to the downside to having her in the crib: I can't see her. Sheesh, no wonder people co-sleep with their kids. I check on her every ten minutes. I'm one of THOSE moms. But at least she's in the crib and not in my bed. (I was warned by many a mom that let their babies into their beds that it was a bad idea. Glad I listened.) Besides, there's barely enough room for me, Mr. Clean and Boo Boo in the queen bed. Adding a fourth to the mix would require a bed upgrade that I don't have the money or the space for.

And speaking of money, why didn't anyone warn me that babies COST A FORTUNE?! Costco is getting even spendier lately, what with buying a box of diapers every few weeks and buying wipes only slightly less often. And the hospital bills--OH MY GOD. Let's just say that I am VERY glad that I am a teacher and have FABULOUS heath care insurance. How to people without it have babies? My insurance covers 90% which is UH-MAZING because a lot of people I know only have 80% coverage and many also have an out-of-pocket deductible to begin with. I may not make a ton of money as a teacher, but the heath coverage is worth it.

Shit. Mute button is out. Better take care of business. (I'm guessing there's some business in her diaper, too. Ah, joy.)

My fat ass is still here

Wow, being a SAHM is...boring. I'm sure part of it is due to the fact that Baby is still, well, a baby. It's not like she does much. Her basic functions are to eat, sleep and shart. She does play a little--we have a "gym" that she lays on and can swat at the toys that dangle from the arch above. (She was even trying to grab them today!) But there just isn't much going on, so there's not much to blog about. Sorry guys!

The one thing that I guess I could spend some time bitching about is my weight. Now that Baby is a month old, it's time to get back on the weight loss wagon. I was actually on it before Baby and had been doing really well. There was a contest I had entered and won at the gym I go to. It started last January (back in 2009) and ended in April. I managed to lose almost 20 pounds (and gain a lot of muscle) at the time. Then I lost about 7 more pounds before finding out I was pregnant July of 2009. Now, after having Baby, I'm pretty much back to the weight I was at before I started the gym contest. This is good in a way because it means I've lost around 25-30 pounds since I had her. It just sucks because I feel like I'm starting all over again. ARGH.

When I was on the wagon, I was really on it. I exercised 5-6 days a week and was eating clean. (Eating clean is when you are eating whole foods--nothing processed or refined.)  I know I'm not going to be able to jump right back in and pick up where I left off but I want to get started. For me, the first step is always getting the exercise into my routine. Once I get that established, eating correctly (and not stuffing my face with everything possible) usually follows easily because I don't want to screw up and basically cancel out the exercise.

This week my goal is to work out at least three times. I think that's a reasonable goal to start with. I'm not willing to impose any other restrictions on myself at this time because who knows what's to come. Things are different now with Baby in the mix and I know I can't just hop off to the gym any time I please, but I miss the way I felt when I was exercising and eating well. It's going to be a process to get back to that point, that's for sure. Wish me luck!

I give in...

Okay, I know you want to see her so...

Here are a couple of pictures of Baby. They're "old" now, because I took them when she was about two weeks old and she's now FOUR weeks old. Holy crap, where did the time go?

(Major bonus: Only five more months of pumping!!!)

(Downside: I still have five more months of pumping. My nips are killing me. That's probably TMI, but that's why you come here.)

Okay...pics...

I realize she looks a little cross-eyed in the second pic, but I can assure your her eyes are normal...and BLUE! I'm sooo glad she got Mr. Clean's blue eyes. I know that babies usually have blue eyes to start out with, but hers seem to keep lightening and don't seem to be turning brown, so my fingers are crossed that I'm right on this one.

(She did manage to get his nose. Did I already say this somewhere? I know I told you I was hoping it wouldn't happen. Well, it did. But it doesn't look too bad. Not that it could look bad. She's freaking adorable. Hopefully it's a mild version of his nose. That would be manageable.)

This week's mission is to look into getting daycare lined up. I'll have to return to work a little early because I coach high school volleyball in the fall. Tryouts start a couple weeks before school starts, so I have to start taking her in early August. Apparently it's VERY hard to get a spot for an infant, so I need to get myself on a waiting list or two right now. I don't even want to think about how much it's gonna cost. Ugh. Luckily Mr. Clean is getting some overtime at work.

Okay, time to go make some coffee and become half human upon its consumption. I'm swooning just thinking about it.

I love the Zappos.com commercials. They're so clever and funny. I actually laugh out loud at them. (It's the little things. I'm easy to please.)

RTT: Multitasking Mommy

I'm ready for Random Tuesday Thoughts, once again! Nice to be back in the swing of bloggy-things...

• I'm learning to type one-handed so I can hold Baby and blog at the same time. It's a slower process but it cuts down on the fussing. Not that she really fusses too much. Luckily. (Knock on wood.)
• Baby is relatively easy-going. She only cries when she's really super hungry or needs to be changed after a nice big shart. (I'm pretty sure she's usually screaming something along the lines of Feed me, bitch! or Change me, bitch!)
• I just fed her and she looks high. Apparently breast milk is her drug of choice. "Intervention," here we come.
• Glee is on tonight!!! Enough said. If you're not a Gleek, you can't understand and I don't expect you to.
• I'm debating on whether or not to post pictures of Baby. I am trying to keep things pretty anonymous on here and posting pictures will definitely hinder that. However, I know you guys would like to see her. (And she really is freaking cute.) Sigh...
• Anyone watch Dexter?  I am a big Dexter fan. When the latest season was on, I kept up with the episodes via On Demand. Then I neglected to watch the last two episodes until it was too late and they weren't on anymore. I was pissed. Luckily they brought the episodes back and I got to finish out the season...and holy crap, it was a doozy! (I won't ruin it in case you haven't seen it or intend to watch it someday.) I also really like True Blood, U.S. of Tara, and Nurse Jackie. (Nurse Jackie is freaking hilarious. This season is already impressing me, and we're only three episodes in. If you have Showtime, you have to check it out. And if you don't, rent season one. You won't be disappointed.)
• So Mr. Clean inquired about the blog...and is reading it as we speak. This should be interesting. 
• Boo Boo (the dog) and Baby are both sleeping. Boo Boo is in Mr. Clean's lap and it's just freaking adorable. I wish I had the camera.
• I bought Mederma for Stretch Marks. Actually Mr. Clean went and hunted the shit down and finally found it at Walgreens. I have a TON of the damn things on my belly now, thanks to Baby. They didn't appear until the last month of my pregnancy. I thought I was home free and then BAM, fucking stretch marks all over my belly.  I really hope it works because those fuckers are UGLY.

That's probably enough random for one day. My last post was pretty random too, so it's like a twofer this week. You are sooo welcome.

Welcome to Motherhood

• My boobs hurt. Pumping sucks. I'm sure it would be just as bad if she was breastfeeding. Oh, and the onset of mastitis, TWICE, fucking sucks as well. Apparently I HAVE to pump every three hours or my boobs will retaliate. Freaking A.
• She makes the cutest faces when she's sleeping. And when she's awake. She's just damn cute.
• She sure shits a lot. Actually, I should say that she sharts a lot. (For those of you not in the know, that's a cross between a shit and a fart.) My god, she is a super sharter. And she alsmost ALWAYS does it when I'm feeding her, so it reverberates through my lap. It has literally STARTLED me several times, it is that loud and powerful. (She gets if from her father. Oh, and she's doing it as I type this. Luckily she's in her bouncy chair. Hopefully it's not another blowout.)
• Only getting to sleep for about three consecutive hours max really blows. Everyone warned me but you can't possibly understand until it's really happening. 
• (I decided to change the diaper. There was no poop. Um...that's some SERIOUS gas kid!)
• Someone asked me if I'm surprised by how many diapers she goes through. No. I am surprised by the number of wipes we've already been through. It's a good thing we got the Costco crate.
• (Oh, she's sharting again. There's the poop I was looking for earlier. Man, that kid can really blow it out her butt.)

Well, time to go pump. Again. And then take a nap while Mr. Clean takes over Baby duty.

The Saga of Baby - The Scary Part

There is absolutely no way I could give every detail about the ensuing days in the hospital because I was sleep deprived and emotionally unstable, so here's a synopsis of the scary shit that happened next.

We ended up in the hospital for essentially three days after baby was born--24 hours is the standard for releasing mommies back into the wild with their newborns. At first it was just that the pediatrician thought she could use some extra recovery time. (I'd had a lot of drugs. Really good drugs.)

Then it turned into something else. She wouldn't freaking eat.

Mr. Clean and I are pigs. Well, that may be a slight over-exaggeration, but not by much. So how this kid came out and would not eat was baffling. I have a feeling it was in large part due to the drugs because she would simply fall asleep at my boob every time I tried to feed her. Most of the time she would latch but then she wouldn't suck. It was the weirdest thing and eventually it became a scary thing because she lost a lot of birth weight. Although it's typical to lose some, she lost too much--at least 10% is when the doctors become concerned. She went from 7lbs 13oz to 7lbs 0.6oz between Monday evening (when she was born) and Wednesday evening, when we were transferred to the pediatric unit of the hospital.

I have never been so emotional. It still makes me tear up and want to cry again just thinking about the whole thing. There were several nurses that were trying to help with breastfeeding from the get go, but all the "help" began to wear on me. Plus, several of the different nurses and lactation consultants were actually giving different instructions or advice, so it was overwhelming and confusing.

Once we'd been transferred to the pediatric unit, we were put on a routine where she had to eat every two hours. This meant I was to try breastfeeding for 30 minutes, then feed her formula if she wouldn't breastfeed (which she wouldn't...so bottle feeding took about 30 minutes), then I would have to pump for 15 minutes. After that I had to wash the pumping equipment and then maybe pee and get to squeeze in a 30 minute nap. We did that from about 9:00 p.m. Wednesday night to like 12:00 p.m. the next day. I was going out of my mind. However, in the back of my mind was I am NOT letting them put a feeding tube in you. Yes, the nurse and the doctor had mentioned this as a possibility if she wouldn't gain weight. No pressure or anything. Jesus, I was a mess when I heard that...and every time I let the possibility slip into the forefront of my mind.

Finally at some point on Thursday, one of the lactation consultants decided that feeding her every two hours and not getting any sleep was CRAZY and pushed it to every three hours. That may not seem like much, but it was a HUGE relief. I had been going on basically no sleep and so was Mr. Clean. We were EXHAUSTED and VERY EMOTIONAL and the nurses and doctors could tell. I think I got to nap for a whole hour at that point. It was glorious.

Thursday afternoon they weighed Baby again to see if she'd gained anything. We were on pins and needles. We wanted to take her home so badly--to get out of that god forsaken hospital and become real people again. And we desperately wanted to hear that she was healthy. (Doesn't every mom want to hear that?) The results...she'd gained 4.4 ounces in just 12 hours. We were ecstatic. Surely this had to mean we could go home! But we had to wait for the on call pediatrician to tell give us the final word.

Luckily, he agreed that she was ready to go home. Besides that, she needed to be out of his "dirty ward" with all the germs and unhealthy children. She was a healthy baby and didn't belong there anymore. HELL YES! We were going home!

Baby eats plenty now. My milk came in about day five, so we could stop supplementing with formula and give her breast milk. She still would not take the breast so I gave up and we bottle feed. (I have to pump which blows but I am willing to make the sacrifice for her cute little butt.) It's fine with me because it's so convenient, plus it also allows her to bond with Mr. Clean during feedings.  (He is so damn good with her. It's freaking adorable.) As proof of her chunkiness, she was at 8 lbs 6 oz at her two week visit and I am pretty sure she's gained plenty more since then.

And, as if on cue, guess who's hungry?

The Saga of Baby - Part Two of The Birth

Let's see...looks like I left off with wanting to take a poo and the nurse wanting me to practice pushing. Hmmm.

So, we got into position--mom holding one leg and Mr. Clean holding the other--and started pushing on the next contraction. (Mr. Clean did not "look under the hood," in case anyone is wondering. I think that was probably a wise decision on his part.)

Here was the nurse's reaction: "Wow, you're a really effective pusher!" She said this more than once during the first couple of pushes.

The problem with this? After two pushes (well, two sets I guess, since you push around 3 times per contraction) she was a little worried because I was TOO effective. Baby was COMING and the doctor was still moseying on over. Oops. So on the next contraction I was instructed to just relax and not push.

Luckily the doc arrived moments later. Have I told you that he reminds me of Chef on South Park? Big black guy with a deep voice, very relaxed and cool. Oh, and he looks like chef too! He even said something about getting "G'd up" and ready for the delivery. (My mom recalls this--I was a bit drugged out.)

(I have to digress a little here. Earlier in the day the doc didn't have time to come see me when he thought he would. My sister's quip? That he must be "busy saving the world, one vagina at a time." God she's hilarious.)

Back to pushing. Once the doc was G'd up and ready for me, I had to push maybe 4 or 5 more times--yes, really!--and wallah, a baby came out! Unfortunately, she decided to come out like superman in his "up, up and away" mode--one fist in the air. Guess what that meant for me? TEARING. Ugh. So I have stitches. DOWN THERE. Not fun. I think I already mentioned this meant minus points for Baby. (But she gets like +1,000,000 because she's so damn cute now.)

When she came out, it was kind of like having a bowling ball sitting on your abdomen for about 3 months and then someone finally takes it off.  Such a relief!

So Baby was here and healthy, but unfortunately things went downhill from there for a couple of days. That's coming next. (Don't worry too much--we are back on track and everything is all good in the 'hood now.)

The Saga of Baby - Part One of The Birth

The week Baby was born was CRAZY. That's the easiest way to describe it. If I had to use every adjective that would apply, we'd be here for a while.

I went in to the hospital Sunday evening under the impression that I was being given meds and then coming back on Monday. WRONG. They were giving me cervadil (sp?) and I was being ADMITTED. Oops. Luckily I had planned ahead and had Mr. Clean pack the car with everything we were going to bring anyway, just in case. It's a good thing I got that "just in case" gene from my mother. It came in handy.

Once I kind of settled into my room, we discovered I was beginning contractions on my own. I have a feeling that unexpectedly being admitted had something to do with it, but at least they didn't have to give me the meds to get things started. So they let me continue because I was making enough progress. I did start to get some anxiety and feeling shaky so they ended up giving me something to take the edge off. Remember how I was thinking I didn't want the narcotics? FUCK THAT. The drugs were awesome and allowed me to relax and get a little sleep.

Then they started the pitocin at 5 AM Monday. I started having stronger contractions and at one point was ready to KILL someone for my epi. They wanted me to be at least 3 cm dilated and I was only at about 1 1/2 or 2 so I had to wait about an hour. That last hour was excruciatingly painful. I remember trying to think of what to compare it to and somehow the best I could come up with is that it's like having the worst charlie horse of your life but it's stretched across your stomach and it's about a thousand times more painful. Anyway, after an hour the nurse checked me again and I was so close that stretched me to 3 so I could finally get numbed up.

Getting the epi was interesting and irritating. The anesthesiologist tried to administer it while I was lying down on my side but it was too difficult for him to find the right spot so I had to sit up. Plus, I had to be PERFECTLY STILL while he was poking me a thousand times in the back AND I was having ridiculously strong contractions. I don't know how I did it, but I did (Mr. Clean was very helpful and supportive during the epi) and once it took over, I was out like a light. I wasn't feeling the contractions and could finally get some good rest so I totally did.

I woke up around three or four hours later and although I could still feel the pressure of the contractions, I was okay pain-wise. The epi was going to be gone soon though, so the nurse debated whether or not to have the anesthesiologist give me an extra (albeit much smaller) dose to get me through. They ended up doing it, but I guess my blood pressure and the baby's heart rate increased slightly. My mother was in the room and noticed this and the nurse had me lay on my side which helped. My blood pressure was something that we had been monitoring quite a bit during the birth because it had elevated a bit a couple of times.

After just a bit, the nurse checked me and I was fully dilated so she called the doctor to have him mosey on over soon. (His office is just across the street from the hospital.) She asked if I felt the need to push and I didn't, so we waited a bit. Later she asked again, and I have to tell you the only thing I felt like I was ready to push out was a good poo, so I asked her if that meant anything which apparently it DID. Who knew? So she wanted to try some practice pushes, which was fine with me. Hey, let's get this show on the road!

To be continued...