Monday, February 28, 2005

Tiny knees curled to chin

Am I insane? I have a 16 week old and I am constantly thinking about getting pregnant again. Obviously this is insanity. Noah is not even mobile yet and I can barely figure out what to do with him on a daily basis. And yet, he is so wonderful and makes me so happy that surely a second would be terrific. Plus, having been raised by my mother as an only child, I know it can be lonely. And I have learned through my half siblings how great it can be to have brothers and sisters so I definitely want to continue to expand our family. And I keep thinking that the closer that Noah and the next child are in age, the closer they will probably be in life, so we need to get a move on. There is some sense somewhere in my brain though because I recognize it would be extremely challenging to wrangle an infant and a toddler at the same time. In fact it seems impossible. However, motherhood seemed completely unfathomable only 17 short weeks ago and now look at me. Hmm... So where is the right move here? Maybe i should try to get down to a regular size before I start thinking about packing on the pregnancy pounds again.

My mother came over yesterday and watched Noah while Mark and I went to brunch at Las Cazuelas. Lunch was delicious and it is nice to get out for a couple of hours. But the best thing is how excited my mother is to spend time with Noah. As Mark said "It feels good to see how much someone else loves your child." And my mom is head over heels in love with Noah. Her generosity to us and interest in him have been completely overwhelming from the moment we told her we were pregnant. I fear there are no amount of thank yous that could ever express to her how much we appreciate all the little things she buys for him and for us - and all the time she spends driving back and forth to see him. I guess I will just have to assume that he is cute enough to cover the ante. And he is cute. In fact he is SO cute I fear that maybe they switched our child with a supermodels child at the hospital. If he grows up this adorable he will have a truly charmed life.

Noah is a real little boy. He really went to town last night pushing up on his arms, holding his head up and looking around. He seemed like he could take off crawling at any moment. May the gods help us when that happens. Our rowhouse is 50% stairs. And they all have cutaways so we can't put up standard retention gates. I dread childproofing this place.

Well the snowstorm has granted me a slightly early return of my husband, so I bid you adieu.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Dear Diary?

Okay. So this blog should not be my damn diary. Right? Who gives a crap if we drove to Lansdale, right? I guess my confusion is whether I am just writing this blog for myself or if I am trying to entertain an audience. If I am just writing it for me - I can write just any old nonsense. I had an english muffin with peanut butter for breakfast. Thrilling, huh? But if I am writing to an imagined reader - then I wouldn't bother you with my mundane details. Except I think I only have mundane details at the moment. Crap. I really don't know what I am doing. As per usual.

Oh and obviously I am not doing spell check or anything. All my posts are a mess.

Noah has become such a squealer. Whenever he is bored with something or wants attention he starts squealing at the top of his lungs. It's pretty cute. At least the first five million times. It's way better than the crying anyway. And he's doing it right now. He is in essence saying "I tire of these twirling birds and monkeys and I need to be held damn it!"

Today we had our first giggle fit. I have tried blowing raspberries on Noah's belly a hundred times and gotten little to no reaction. But today it caused his first giggle riot. I just about died from love overdose. Of course I tried to repeat it later in the day and once again got no reaction. Noah intends to remain an enigma.

I'm fat. I mentioned that right? Have a mentioned I don't really feel like doing a damn thing about it? At least until I am done nursing. I am not going to do aerobics or yoga with giant leaking breasts. It isn't going to happen. And I also have no intention to start counting points or depriving myself either. I actually can't fathom dieting right now. It seems physically and spiritually impossible. But that will have to change in the coming months. We are definitely going to the beach the week before Labor Day and I don't want to be mistaken for a whale.

Well I have to take the squealer downstairs and Papasan his shakey little butt so I can try to cook dinner. I might even cook with BUTTER. Heaven forbid.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Yummy plastic!

For a boy who rarely ventures out of the house, Noah had quite a day yesterday. We drove an hour to Lansdale to pick up Aunt Jessica so she could have a sleepover visit. Jess is getting big - she'll be ten in May. Noah only sleeps in the car when we're on the highway. The moment you stop at a toll booth, the moment he becomes a backseat driver.

Then we visited with Patrice, Baby Bella, and Trent since we were in their neck of the woods. Noah wasn't as cool and calm as Ms. Bella, but he was on pretty good behavior. He shared a couple of smiles and dolphin noises with the group. And then we made the long, traffice-ridden Schuylkill drive home. Jess was able to distract the cracky Noah a bit, but he wasn't a happy camper for most of the drive.

After a stop home for a round of Skipbo and to pick up Daddy, the four of us headed to the gastronomic sensation that is Applebees of Fishtown. We had a gift certificate and unfortunately for us the chain restaurants are a little more child friendly - ie. tolerant of screaming babies. But Noah was a prince. His bug eyes scanned the place until he dozed off for most of the meal. His first meal at a restaurant was a success. The meal unfortunately wasn't perfect for everyone since Jessica found a piece of plastic in her sandwich. On the upside it got her a free dinner and dessert. Yippy!

We returned to our cozy abode to watch Spirited Away. The plot was a bit muddled, but it was so odd and out there that we really enjoyed it. The characters were hysterical and I totally recommend it.

On the agenda for today are some alone time for me and Jessica and then her return trip. Oh how I love driving.

Friday, February 18, 2005

Stab at it

I'm testing out this blogging thing. I've been a mom for 16 weeks now and I feel like I have alot to write about it. So here goes.

I am astonished by how badly women treat each other. Is it that we are so insecure in our own decisions, and so insecure about our insecurity that we feel the need to belittle women who do something different than we do? And where is the line between sharing our ideas with other women and criticizing their technique. It is SO touchy. WE are so touchy. I know I am. On one hand I would love to talk at length with other mothers on what they do, but on the other hand I don't want them judging me. Can't I listen to advice and decide what to heed and what to dismiss without getting edgy about it? I want HELP people. Not a task master.

So that said... I guess now I can just write about some of my motherhood hardships. Noah sleeps well at night. But he is still sleeping on top of me. Not just in our bed, but physically on top of me. I'm not sure how this happened except that I was so paranoid about SIDS that I didn't even want to put him down to sleep. The first couple of weeks I slept propped up, which wasn't super comfortable. Now I am almost fully reclined and Noah is wedged between my really enormously large and annoying breasts. At least they are good for something other than back pain. Well, and the nursing. And I know I have to start putting him down at night. He can't sleep on me forever. And I think he may eventually sleep longer if he sleeps in the bassinet. But the first couple of nights that I transition him are going to be hell. So that is delaying me. Plus he so easily wakes me up when he wants to be fed that he doesn't have to get to become fully awake when I feed him - and therefore he just drifts right back to sleep. And plus, I'll miss him. He is so sweet, warm and cuddly nestled in close to me. So I'm also being a bit selfish about it. I guess it is just one of the million steps that my child will be taking away from me.

Have I mentioned that he is absolutely positively adorable? He is. I can't adequately express how much I love him. How my heart flutters when I think about him. It's more than I ever imagined it to be. I can get a bit bored at home all day, and sometimes he can be pretty high maintenance, but I am SO thankful for him, and for this chance to be home with him. It really is astonishing.

So despite the imperfections I am glad to be home. One of those imperfections being that we are poor. I try to let Mark worry about the money. Mostly because I suck with money. I only have two modes with money. Either I can spend it but not with any real ability to watch every cent or I can't spend it and I feel panicked because we are destitute. I'm not a big spender. In fact I am pretty cheap about most things. Like I have a set price that I won't exceed for things. For instance I would never spend more than $40 on a pair of jeans or $25 for a shirt. My problem is not amount spent on items - but more on number of items purchased. I buy too many jeans and shirts that I never end up wearing because I never feel like I have the RIGHT pair. So I waste money. And my biggest problem with money is that I don't feel like money you spend to go places and do things should count. Meaning you can really on spend alot of money if you have THINGS to show for it. But if you went out to dinner, to the movies, to the zoo - that money shouldn't count against you.

And have I mentioned that I am fat. I gained 70 pounds during my pregnancy! I have lost 40 pounds already, but I have another 30 to go. I have this nasty bag of fat around my stomach that makes wearing anything good impossible. However I am not dieting because I am breast feeding. And honestly I don't want to diet yet. My lord. If I had to diet and breastfeed too then I might die of aggravation. Breastfeeding is important and bonding and all that. But my breasts were already too big and now they are humongous and sore. I promised myself that I would breastfeed for six months, and I am doing it. But God, I can't wait to stop. I can't wait to not wear a bra. To fit into some of my old shirts and to wear more supportive bras. I will feel like a real live person again once I stop breastfeeding. May won't come soon enough for me. And hopefully my breasts will shrink just in time for spring to come and before baggy sweaters are not wearable.

So I guess this is my first blog entry. What a meandering mess. Oh well. Better luck next time.