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December 2005
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February 2006

Look! Posting! Happy now? FINE. Etc.

Absolutely nothing of note has happened to me since I fell down the stairs. Perhaps it was a symbolic fall! Symbolizing the general interestingness of my life and the quality of my website! Oh. My GOD. My stupid website. That reminds me: Yesterday, 3:15 pm: I caved to the peer pressure and registered for BlogHer '06. Yesterday, 3:17 pm: Panic! PANIIIIIC. I have actually been panicking for a good 22 hours now, up until about five minutes ago when I succeeding in convincing Zoot to sign up and be my roommate and person to hide behind and translator for whenever I meet someone fabulous. Amy: Bwa fff grrapp gah! Zoot: She says she loves your website. Or possibly that she needs to pee. I didn't quite catch her inflection on "grrapp." Alice: Jesus God. (Backs away slowly.) I am panicking because I went to JournalCon once, and...did not really enjoy myself. I didn't feel like I fit in or that anybody liked me. So I just stayed with my own little clique of friends and I knew this was obnoxious, but I just couldn't seem to get conversations going with anyone else. And that was here in DC, just a... Read more →


Drop in the Name of Love

One of my biggest parenting fears (besides SIDS, autism and dropping the baby into a volcano) has always been what would happen if I fell while holding Noah. It's a valid fear, because I fall down a lot. Ahem. Cough. Yes. After my c-section, I was given strict orders not to carry the baby while walking for a week. And no carrying the baby up and down stairs for a couple more weeks after that. I followed these instructions the best that I could, which is to say, not at all, because I determined pretty much five minutes after the surgery that I was Super Abdominal Surgery Recovery Woman, give me a couple Advil and I HAVE NO LIMITS, THOSE AREA RUGS WILL NOT VACUUM THEMSELVES. When Noah was just a few days old, Lactaction Consultant v.1.0 told me to always keep a grip on his thigh when I carried him, because this would keep him secure if I fell. I followed these instructions to the letter and walked around with a vise grip on my son's chubby thigh for weeks, although I could never quite work out a falling-down-the-stairs scenario in my head that didn't involve me swinging Noah... Read more →


Wednesday Advice Smackdown

To anyone who witnessed my late-night freak-out in yesterday's comments section: Noah does not have the chicken pox. He has a little cold (goddangdingdamndaycare) and a poorly-timed, yet ultimately unrelated rash. He is also teething, and this angers him greatly, so he screamed for SIX HOURS last night, well past my bedtime, so I got a little bleary-eyed and paranoid and turned a couple little red bumps on his elbow into OH MY GOD, A POX IS ON THEE. And me, since as I've mentioned before, I never had the chicken pox and learned when I was pregnant that the vaccine I got seven years ago has worn off completely. And I can't get re-vaccinated until I completely quit with this delusional breastfeeding thing I do. So...stay away from kids! Kids with rashes! Anyway, I was wrong and insane, just like I asked you to pray for. Not that there should have been much of a doubt about my insanity. To wit: I can't get up! But I can poop the minute you zip this thing up, so there. Aw. I'm fairly mean. ANYWAY. LET'S DO A SMACKDOWN. FEATURED THIS WEEK, QUESTIONS I RECEIVED BACK IN JULY. JUUUULLLLYYYY. What are... Read more →


More Ponderous Pontificating on Mommyhood

I know! You are so welcome. (And while I do need to fact check this, I'm writing from the assumption that no one has ever had a baby except for me in the history of the universe.) Jason and I were having a discussion (over dinner) (in a restaurant) (eating food that we could cook at home, but why, when paying for it is so much fun?) (and also when it inspires the wrath of the U WENT BACK 2 WORK BECAUSE U R A SELFISH WHORE people) (and let's not forget the wine, the delicious delicious wine) about whether or not we feel "different" since Noah was born. I immediately chimed in with a Raising-Arizona-like "I LOVE HIM SO MU-UU-UCH!" and said that yes, I feel like a completely different person now and my LANDS, the differences, they are many in number, although I can't really think of any right now beyond a heightened tolerance for another human being's bodily fluids. Jason shrugged and said he didn't feel that different. And while I went all Precious-Moments-eyeballs on him for a moment, because if he didn't feel different, that must mean he doesn't love Noah, because again, the multitude of... Read more →


In Which Words Fail Me

Before Noah was born, people used to tell me that having a child is like having your heart living outside of your body. And I would nod because, yeah, I can totally see that. Their joy is your joy, their hurt is your hurt, blah blah weepcakes. But then Noah was born, and this sentiment doesn't even come close. My love for him is so visceral and deep that it's almost violent. It consumes me. It makes me want to swallow him whole. To put him back in my womb where he belonged exclusively to me, where I could keep him safe and secure. Now that Noah is here, I feel like someone scraped off the top layer of my skin and created a little person with it. I feel everything that he feels -- every hug, kiss and mean old needle prick. And I'm standing over here with no skin at all -- raw, exposed and vulnerable. Being Noah's mom is like nothing I ever expected. I expected to be sleep deprived, since that's the favorite horror story people love to tell pregnant women. (YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN. YOU WILL PRAY FOR DEATH INSTEAD.) I figured I'd get... Read more →


Not So Much Boring As Brain-Numbing Tedium

So one thing was resoundingly clear from your comments: the only thing that is DEFINITELY boring around here is a lack of regular updates. So I proceeded to not update! At all! Take THAT, loyal readers! Contempt! Fie! (There is a new Snarkywood, however, which includes about 43 whole words that I wrote.) (By the way, I really did not write that last entry for "validation" that I am not boring. I KNOW that I am boring. The whole point of that entry was that I ENJOY being boring. That I am FINE with being boring, because it's a FULFILLING kind of boring. Then again, maybe that point got lost because I'm just not a very good writer and I used the word "boring" three hundred thousand times.) (And now everyone will pile on with the compliments on my writing until someone snarks that GOD, I clearly wrote that just so people would disagree with me, blah blah blah, am so full of myself, and this is why the comments section gives me a headache sometimes.) ANYWAY. Here's the thing: I usually write the bulk of my entries the night before, at home, like a responsible person who does not... Read more →


Babies Are Boring

Or, more accurately, the parents of babies are boring. Seriously, when this equals big-time photo-op excitement at your house... ...you are boring. Congratulations. You can't really help being boring, because while babies are cute and all, they just don't DO very much. You spend your days wiping up spit-up and changing their clothes because poop shot out the leg holes of their diaper because they're right in between diaper sizes and can you believe he's wearing size two diapers now? But he's got skinny thighs so the leg holes kind of gap so yeah, he pooped on his outfit and maybe a little on the couch too and the next thing you know, you've just spent 10 minutes discussing the intricacies of disposable diaper leg holes with the cashier at the grocery store. Having a baby means that your big Friday night plans involved a small bowl of rice cereal and this was ridiculously exciting to you. So exciting that you probably spent the rest of the weekend telling everyone you knew about this small bowl of rice cereal. Being a parent means you KNOW nobody cares, but you tell them anyway. Having a baby means wall-to-wall plastic crap in... Read more →


Not Quite a Year in the Life of Amy's Camera Phone

I made an extremely important discovery a few weeks ago. I discovered how to get the photos I take with my camera phone OFF OF MY DAMN CAMERA PHONE. Yes. I am not very bright. I got the phone sometime last summer, and whee! Snappy! I figured out how to take pictures and store pictures and picturespicturespictures, but I could not ever get them off the phone. Emails timed out, text messages vanished, the USB cable taunted me and we are not even going to talk about that stupid Bluetooth bullshit. To this day, I'm still not really sure what I was doing wrong or what I'm doing differently now, although I sort of suspect that I can only email a picture to myself if I shake the phone vigorously during the transmission process. But the wait was WORTH IT, because now I have many MONTHS' worth of blurry, low-res camera phone images, ordered and captioned for your pleasure. You can thank me anytime for my tenacity. Here I present what may be the creepiest photo ever taken of my dog. She glows with the white-hot light of hell, for you are kind of confusing her. And me, because how... Read more →


The Vomitorium Tour

I believe it goes without saying that there will be no Advice Smackdown today. I simply cannot deal with the thinking and the responsibility and the shampoo talk, and oh GOD, I smell shampoo now, and it's disgusting. We are sort of emerging from Hell. We are sort of completely dehydrated and weak like weak baby kittens. The most grievious neglect of our son amounted to skipping his bath last night and dressing him in a red and GREY outfit today, instead of the requested red and WHITE for the Valentine's Day calendar photo bullshit at daycare, because RED and WHITE? That, by its very definition, would require TWO loads of laundry, and y'all can bite me. I have not thrown up since Monday night. And in that timeframe I have managed to consume the following: One banana Two pieces of white bread A half cup of rice Two spoonfuls of vile, vile soup 17 Saltine crackers So if anyone is looking to shed those last few pregnancy pounds, I highly recommend you go out and get yourself a raging case of staphylococcal food poisoning. You will lose 10 pounds, and also your dignity. Anyway. I'm back at work today,... Read more →


Vomitorium

When you find yourself flipping a coin with your husband to see who gets to go to the grocery store without the baby, it's safe to say that your weekend is not going as planned. Also when you break your toe. Oh, and the food poisoning. I definitely did not plan on the food poisoning. So Saturday, Noah was sick. Another damn cold. This time with a little fever and some diarrhea, and my big plans for making Julie's homemade Pedialyte recipe disintegrated within minutes and (since he won the coin toss), I sent Jason to the store for the overpriced real stuff because I couldn't find my measuring spoons. Later that night I dropped an attachment to my KitchenAid mixer (the very same attachment I purchased so I could make homemade baby food, HAR HAR HAR) on my middle toe, smashing it all the fuck up. We didn't end up giving any Pedialyte to Noah, as the diarrhea was fleeting and temporary, and by Sunday afternoon he seemed to be well enough to take on a little errand to Babies R' Us, so we could make up for abandoning him at daycare with an overpriced exersaucer and lots of... Read more →