Snuggle FAIL

Ohh yeah. This morning Young Sir woke up at 5 a.m. I picked him up and we snuggled in bed while he had breakfast. And then he threw EVERYTHING up. I think he threw up everything he's eaten since he was born. Or possibly food I ate while pregnant. It was so loud that Mister woke up scared. And then I picked up poor Peter and made sure he was ok/not choking on vomit and he did it again. I was only wearing a t-shirt and panties. And it landed ON MY v-jay. Vajazzling it with fresh WARM barf.

Sooooo at 5 30 a.m. Mister took Peter to clean him up while I stripped the bed, shampooed the mattress, we have a mattress cover but it wasn't dry when I re-made our bed:( shampooed the carpet, started a load of wash, put away two loads of laundry( cause I left em in the dryer, ok?), and chased Indiana around the bedroom. Indiana kept trying to eat loose strings off the mattress and I would chase him off only to see his little ears peeking over the far side of the mattress chomping away. Cause cat barf would have been great.

And a good thing, because when I went into the office to see Mister I found a nice fresh pile of cat barf. Thanks guys.

Then I took a shower. After my shower, Peter woke up and threw up on me again.

I hate acid reflux.

things are getting very nice

I just carried a cuddly warm bundle in yellow feetie pajamas up to his crib. At 9 :14 p.m. The last three nights have been like a dream. We have not let our guard down yet but if our 6 and a half month bataan death march of exhaustion is finally over I will cry tears of joy.

Peter is kind of crawling. Scootching? In a kind of backwards scootch. It's funny to see him try to get somewhere and end up farther away. He gets soo mad. He wipes his own face off now after dinner. Can you believe that? He is a genius.

We are buying gates on Thursday. Anyhow, I want to blog but I have to go do stuff just in case Peter Pants wakes up.

Do as I do

Something I have been thinking about for months now are the phrases "Do as I say and not as I do." as well as the sayings "lead by example and be the change you want to see in the world, and gourmets dig their graves with their teeth." I love quotes if you had not guessed.

What if breastfeeding is not enough to keep Peter from struggling with his weight as I do? What if the organic food we are feeding him is not enough? Measuring his portions so he does not get overfull? I want him to be healthy, and not healthy-ish. People who say they are healthy for their weight are just lying to themselves, fat is not good for you. It's a comforting lie but it is still a lie.

My weight is creeping up again. And that is not ok. Our neighborhood is TEEMING with fat children. Not charmingly plump children, FAT CHILDREN. 10 year olds should not have breasts. I remember growing up that I stood out and was in the minority as a chunky child. Maybe it's the food they are getting, I certainly see them outside playing a lot. Mister and I make a choice to stay far away from cheap food. Sometimes we slip up because cheap food is fast food- usually. It is waaay easier for me to grab a pop tart and smear some peanut butter on it than it is for me to cook something in the mornings.

But I have no intention of letting Peter have a pop tart. Hellll no. Or Cheerios, or JIF( really choosy Mom's choose organic) or Happy Meals or juice for that matter. I don't want any genetically modified food sneaking into his diet. But how can I expect him to make good choices if he sees me eating crap?

It is hard. I don't have a lot of bad habits but I love cookies. No, I LOVE COOKIES. C IS FOR COOKIES AND I LOOOOOOVE THEM. A day without cookies is a sad day. I actually have a cookie jar. It has home made cookies in it. Granted they are my lactation cookies but let's call a carby spade a spade. I have pumpkin pie in the fridge. Banana chocolate chip cake in the freezer. Blueberry lemon scones.

I think it started coming to a head last week when it was me in the house all alone with half an unfinished birthday cake. Home made from scratch with love- three layers of vanilla cake brushed with vanilla bean and cointreau syrup, iced with vanilla cointreau buttercream.

I thought about it all day. Every day. In the fridge. Yumyumyum. I finally told Mister to throw it out.

When I sit on the couch and Peter watches me eat- what is he learning? I take him for a walk at least five times a week, but what is getting etched into his tiny subconscious?

I know I grew up with a Dad that said raisins were nature's candy and exercised regularly but tiptoed into the kitchen for enough midnight snacks to keep him overweight. And a Mom that let us have as many twinkies, ring dings, girl scout cookies etc etc as we wanted. Mom hates to cook- Hamburger Helper helped her hamburger ALL THE TIME. She bought spaghetti-o's by the case and huge boxes of slim jims, family sized chips and soda. And we loved that shit. I would neverever feed it to Peter.

When my sister and I went to visit our Dad for the summer we would walk to the store and buy big packs of tasty kakes and vienna fingers and put them in our bottom dresser. I am sure Dad could not figure out how we gained weight when he fed us brown rice and fresh fruit.

Maybe it was the All You Can Eat Buffet of Mom's house juxtaposed with the Raisins Are Natures Candy at Dad's.

Mom never had many weight problems ,she eats whatever she wants. She bought whatever we asked for and she bought a lot of it. She stayed pretty slender and we porked up like pinatas.

I desperately want this to be a non-issue for Peter. I want him to eat when he is hungry, stop when he is full and be done with it. I know I have made good strides in our diets, we don't drink juice, we only buy chips for company now, we have salad in the house. I pack Mister a healthy lunch every day.

Being home has challenged my diet in a whole new way. Time can hang heavy on my hands and I love to bake. And I love baked things. And it is very easy to snack and snack and snack.

I am wrestling with eating healthy while home, that is for sure. Part of it is not getting enough sleep. But still, the scale is giving me increasingly( har har) bad news.

I think I am going to have to go back on the strict diabetes diet till I figure out how to manage this all access pass I have to the fridge.

Quiet...for now.

I have some down time. I suppose I should take out the garbage or work on my grocery list, but eff that. Peter is sleeping in his swing. He's slept a lot today, because he had a rough night. Poor man. He was totally exhausted from teething and when we got him down THE THUNDERSTORM OF LOUDNESS AND BADNESS started.

We took him to bed after the fifth time we got to him sleep and ka-boom THUNDER. So it's been a catch up day for him. I did odds and ends like sorting out expired coupons and starting matching up my sales for this weekend. Now he's up. I started sorting Peter's clothes and pulling out the stuff he's grown out of and threw his next size up into the hamper to be washed. After this batch we'll be at the end(almost) of his baby shower booty.

I am making him pureed pears tonight. We are having ziti and more pie. Mmmmm, it was amazing. Not to toot my own horn but TOOT TOOT!

Troops, there is a new blog in my sidebar.

I did some upkeep and heaved out links that are old and added A NEW BLOG. http://www.unicornium.net/ It is not only SUPER AWESOME but refreshingly does not involve TTC. And really couldn't we all use a break from blogs guaranteed to mention cervical mucus semi frequently?

There are only two posts so far, but every blog starts with the first few posts. Go say "hey", you'll be glad you did.

In CeliaLand, I just pulled a pumpkin pie out of the oven and have a pot of white chicken chili on the stove. Mr. Peter Pants is asleep in his swing and I am just waiting for the poached chicken to cool enough for me to shred it.

Yesterday was kinda miserable due to Peter's teething. Mister is gone from 8 15 a.m. till 10-ish p.m. on Tuesday because he is in a bowling league. So I was a little crazed after 14 hours of crankiness. Well, 12 hours- things improved after Mama dispensed some Tylenol and oragel.

I was even able to scrub the shower today. Hurrah! Yesterday I cleaned the fans. I am hoping to have time to polish the silver soon. Excitement is my middle name.

A weekend full of pleasure and pain.

The zoo was awesome, we had a very good time. Except for the reptile house, which was like being in a Chuck E Cheese ...with snakes. We walked five miles that day. Lemme tell you more active jogging type people what happens to your gentle stroll to the park, have two biscuits with dinner type people when they walk five miles. THERE IS PAIN.

When we got home I crawled into bed with Peter by six and he watched Mr Ceiling Fan while I napped, then he napped then we both slept till ten when I ate dinner of leftovers and then went back to bed.

Because...I was getting sick. Mister got away with just feeling crappy. I had some gnarly stomach cramps and was pretty useless all the next day. SADLY it was a Sunday which is our run around like a-holes day. So I dragged ass to the grocery store and Wal Mart. Then I came home and had sexxy diarrhea while Mister made lemon bars and raspberry cheesecake bars.

I did not take anything because I did not know if it would hurt my supply. But I was determined to keep going.

Because... we had a birthday party for my dad, stepmom, and seven year old step-nephew an hour away. Which we could have canceled but I figured if I went to the party people would entertain Peter and I could slump in a chair. I was right. So I slumped and ate pretzels while everyone played Pass The Peter. If you want excitement, take an hour car trip after diarrhea.

I feel somewhat better today, but I have to do all the stuff that did not get done yesterday. lame.

How could I forget? When I was sitting down on the toilet I closed my eyes and somehow whacked my face into the bar on the wall. You know, the giant handicapped helper bars? I smacked my face right into it and THEN was sick. YAY!

To the zoo

This weekend we are going to the zoo. My sister is coming. I am very excited!

Currently Peter is in his crib yelling his head off at the unfairness of life. WHY do I want him to sleep? WHY can't he play with his lamb? WHY MILK LADY WHY? I am going to give him a few minutes. He has been up since 7 30 with only an hour snooze.

Soon we are going for a walk. Mister and I are still marveling that it has been six months of parenting. It really is a blur.

I love it. Loveitloveitloveit. I wish there was sleep. We cuddle and sing songs and take a daily walk to the park. I sit on the stoop and the neighbors coo over Sir Peter Pants, handing him back and forth.

Six months ago today...

Oh Mommie, no laundries.

Thunder also helped me make the bed today. He loves to jump around while I change the sheets. His has been stalking my water glass lately. Naughty. I don't have a lot of rules but one of them is that if you lick your own ass, you don't share my water glass.

Peter is sleeping in his swing, hooray! Who knows for how long. We have company coming for dinner tomorrow and I sat down to rest and blog for a few minutes. Of course, I forgot I just shampooed the computer chair so now my butt is soggy.

If you are wondering WHY I shampooed the computer chair, your baby must not have acid reflux. I usually change our sheets twice a week now, in addition to shampooing the carpet and furniture weekly. Sometimes daily. If it was just drool I would wipe it off, but that spit up STINKS. Mmmm. barfy couch.

I cleaned the downstairs bathroom and almost finished the upstairs, stripped and remade the beds, and pulled the comforters to wash them. Like anybody is going to walk into our house and say "ahhh I see you washed the bed spreads" well at least I'll know they are clean.

I still have to mop the floors but that can wait till tomorrow. And I have to vacuum the stairs and dust. I don 't want to do that while Peter is sleeping. There must be something I can do now and not last minute. I suppose I could brush the cats. I have to bake the cake but I want to wait till Mister gets home. He has a half day tomorrow so that he can go to Peter's 6 month appointment.

Apricot roast pork for Kate. Mommie tries to do laundries.

Take a pork tenderloin and salt and pepper it. Put it on a rack over a baking pan. Drizzle some oil on it. Not too much. Get some REAL apricot jam, (no nasty corn syrup or added whatevers) and spoon a generous amount on and smear it all OVER that bitch. I use almost an entire jar. Then, take some fresh thyme and sprinkle it on there, and some onion, sliced/chopped whatev. Push it all into the jam so it doesn't fall off.

Then cook till 160.

Leftovers are delicious over a salad the next day. See, it looks fancy when you have company and tastes great but is really slackass easy.

Baby food

It's coming along. Yesterday I fed him mashed avocado and froze some. Today I put it in a plastic baggie and put the baggie in a cup of very hot tap water. It defrosted really quickly( I had frozen it portioned in tablespoons) and looked extremely fresh.

I suppose I could buy organic baby food but making it from scratch has really been no trouble at all. Tonight for our dinner I made apricot roast pork, scalloped potatoes and sauteed apples. I took some of the apples aside and steamed them. After they cooled I pushed them through a fine mesh strainer and put them in the fridge for tomorrow. So it's all set and I won't have to do anything baby food wise all weekend.

So far he has had bananas, avocado, sweet potatoes, carrots, rice and oatmeal. This week he will have apples, and maybe peas and of course more bananas because he is a FANABANANA.

Are there any other parents of boys out there that have had people allude to them that they hope your son is not gay? I was shocked the first time someone did that and it has happened three times. Most memorably a friends mom said she hoped he would not be "light in the loafers" .
NICE

A. He is a BAYBEE.
B. So what if he did turn out gay? Jesus, it's not like he turned out REPUBLICAN *shudder*.

Oh sleep, where art thou?

By crikey, our angel is going to be six months old in a week. That means I have not had a good nights sleep in almost A YEAR. So apparently it doesn't kill you. But it does make you look like pure shit. We have almost no pictures of me with Peter because I look like a pigs ass. We actually have a really funny one where Peter looks GREAT and I look like hammered hell. I am thinking of putting it on the blog because I know it would have cheered me as an infertile to see how ass- nasty it is.



Mom is going back to my sister's in three days. I am counting the hours. Peter is absofreakingloutely refusing to sleep in his crib. We tried last night and he fought and fought and fought and worked himself into a total state.

Better ish

Today was better than Sunday. Sunday was better than Saturday. We went out to do errands and Peter stayed asleep. We made a list of EVERYTHING we could possibly do and stayed out three hours. Peter took a three hour nap. It would have been swell if I had not been a ball of nerves the entire time.

I got my hair cut. It is the third worst haircut of my entire life. #2 was the verytightperm in 1988 and #1 the MULLET my Mother and her friend insisted on giving me even though I KNEW it was bad. I might have been in 3rd grade( 4th?) but I still knew a what a VERY BAD IDEA was. I refused to take my knit hat with the pom pom on it off at school for days.

Anyhow, I told the lady at the salon that I do not do things to my hair. I wash it, comb it, and that. is. it. No gel. No mousse. No paste/wax/curlers/spritzing whatever the crap you hair people do.

She cut it, and as she finished she said " now when you blow dry it..." Hello? I only use my dryer on the cats after they get a bath. It is horrid. Plus, there are bangs. And every step I take they smack me in the face. I am gonna have to go get it fixed.

long sigh. All I wanted was wash n go people, is that so hard? Why don't hair dressers believe me when I say wash n go? NOT WASH, SCRUNCH AND GO. NOT WASH, DRY AND GO. JUST WASH AND GO DAMMIT.

I think

that I actually hate her. Not like "push her off a cliff hate" more like repulsed.

One day done.

Seven more to go. I am already out of my mind.

Dear next Sunday,

Please get here soon, before I end up drooling in a corner of the house while Mom polishes her martyrs crown.

love,

me

Dum dum dum da da dum da da dum

Mom is coming

My sister really needs a break but I am NOT looking forward to it. I wish she did not make me batshit crazy. I am just going to remind myself that Peter has a good time with her, and she has a good time with him. And I am going to buy a box of chocolate and keep it in my room.

Peter is doing somewhat better at night. I decided to switch him to oatmeal instead of rice cereal because I think he is a little bound up. I feel like oatmeal is healthier than rice anyway.

Dear Baybee Jesus,

Please do not let me lose my temper with Mom. Please help restrain me from bitching about her on Facebook. Please help me remember that some day she will be dead ( some day?) and I might ( ?) feel guilty about snapping at her.
love,

Me

Senor Monkeypants is

being EXTREMELY cute today. He is just cracking me up. He has been making these noises when he eats, like "mmmmmm hmmmm mmmmm mmmmm!" Then he pats my boob. It's hysterical.

We had to go buy new pjs yesterday, because he is too tall for his old ones. We only picked up six pairs, because I figure he will need warmer ones by next month. Yesterday Mister had the day off, but it was a very special day. He played Starcraft for sevenfrickinghours. Maybe NINE. I was glad, but also irritated. I did want him to relax. but I will never understand how anyone could enjoy playing video games all damn day. An hour seems long enough to me. However, he assured me that is a normal amount and that he used to do it for like 16 hours on his days off.

Mister reads my blog sometimes. HI HONEY. Anyhow, have you ever felt happy for someone and resentful AT THE SAME TIME? I know that is dumb and not only did I say it was good for him to play video games, I encouraged him. But part of me was also like "really? really? Starcraft for howmanyfreakinghours?"

I really thought he would play for a while and then we would go do some family thing. Like he reads my mind. I am always telling him that I can't read his mind and yesterday I was expecting him to do it.

You know, I really do want him to have a break. The part of me that knows he works hard and tries hard and has given up a lot and hellooo, how many men will clean their Mother in laws bedsores? There is loving and supporting your wife, and then there is helping clean your mother in laws bedsores. Every time I think of that I know how much he loves me.

And then there is the other part of me. The part that wants a bubble bath. The part that used to spend three hundred dollars at the hair salon. The part that does not let people in gas guzzling cars get in front of her in traffic. The nasty bits, if you will. That part of me is saying ( in a thick Jersey accent) WHAT THE FUCK? I SLAVE ALL DAY EVERY DAY AND THREE HOURS IS PLENTY OF TIME FOR GODDAMN STARCRAFT AND I AM STILL REALLY MAD THAT YOU SAID THAT GIVING PETER A BATH IS MY JOB.


Yeah, that part. Anyhow, I try to smush that part down because I really do want him to have a break and honestly even though staying home can he freaking hard- it can also be really easy. Like now, when Mister is at work and I am blogging while Peter plays with his elephant on the gymini. Plus I know that there is only so much of a break I can have till El Senor is finished breastfeeding.

It can be frustrating and isolating to be home all day, as much as I love it.