Yes, the Baby HAS Mixed Up His Days & Nights Lately. Why Do You Ask?

A Million Points of Light. Or Maybe Just Eight.


I have absolutely no idea what today's entry is going to be about. Topics are a luxury I cannot afford anymore. Instead, I'm taking the "toddler is at school baby is asleep grab laptop and GO GO GO" approach. Where I will just sit down and type whatever words occur to me at the time. Perhaps grammar will go next. Perhaps this blog will simply disintegrate into a Jabberwockian stream of nonsense apple tissue box bacon ham.


We are out of coffee. I am drinking tea. I do not like tea. Well, I like tea, the way other people make tea, with the kettles and the loose leaves and the tiny little tea accessories I see at Crate & Barrel but am unsure of what they do. I have a microwave and Target-brand tea bags. This is not good tea. Therefore, I am in a terrible, terrible mood because my life is very hard wah wah wah etc.


Some good news to report, however, is that we seem to have avoided another wave of sickness. Either the Zicam killed my cold dead or the whole thing was just another sleep-deprived hallucination. Which wouldn't surprise me. Last night I dreamt that a local 4H fair turned into an Indiana Jones movie, with Nazis showing up and then everybody started melting into the hay and sinking into some underground hell layer, and when the evil pigs showed up I said to myself: Self, you need to fucking wake up right now, because this is ridiculous.

Noah was not sick either, by the way. A three-year-old saying, "Mama, I sick" CERTAINLY cannot be trusted, as "sick" can mean anything from vomit to a leaky pull-up to a bad dream to his ruminations on mortality and the concept of Original Sin.

(It was the leaky pull-up this time. In case you were wondering.)


I had a baby eight goddamn weeks ago. Eight! A couple weeks ago I was within spitting distance of my pre-pregnancy weight (the five or so extra pounds were clearly housed IN MAH BRA), and then I started doing this thing where I eat dinner, and then...sort of...keep on eating dinner until it's time to go to bed. At which point I eat some dessert. Because of the BABY. Who needs more MILK. I do this for HIM.

Needless to say, I can no longer spit at my pre-pregnancy weight. I could probably shoot at it with a potato cannon though.

Ezra has left his birth weight in the DUST, by the way. Despite being three whole pounds lighter than Noah, I fully expect their weight stats to be pretty similar at his two-month visit next week. The boy is a tank. A soft, sweet-smelling tank covered in rubber-band fat rolls and chins. The kind of tank you just cannot stop pinching and kissing and making an idiot of yourself about because NOMMY NOM NOM.

(Yes, EXACTLY like a tank. Eyeroll! No time to redo metaphors, though. So onward!)


He smiles a lot these days, mostly at the miniblinds and the ceiling fan, but occasionally at me. His hair is lightening up, he's starting to coo, and oh my God, Becky, there is nothing better in the world than Naked Tummy Time, even if it does have the tendency to get thing a little...damp, sometimes.



This tea is really terrible.


Noah has finally started up with the questions. We don't have the dreaded "Whyyyyy" yet, but he's suddenly erupted into a non-stop stream of "What dat? What dose? What his name? What dat what dat what dat WHAT DAT?"

While we obviously celebrate each and every precious, momentous milestone around here, particularly the hard-fought speech-related ones, I have to confess that the questions make me want to drive fondue forks into my ears, especially after the 20th totally-vague WHAT DAT, complete with insistent pointing into a totally-vague point on the horizon, usually while I'm trying to get that pointin' arm into pajamas or a jacket while I list every possible thing that I see (door? window? picture frame? chair? pillow? atoms? cell nuclei?). If I ask him to be more specific about WHAT DAT, like maybe go a little closer? Show me what it is exactly that you're pointing at?, he simply points HARDER, pulling his hand back to his shoulder and then forcefully shoving it back in the direction of...the still totally-vague point on the horizon that CHANCES ARE he already fucking knows WHAT DAT, he is just trying to kill me with fondue forks and make it look like a suicide.


We brought our Christmas tree home two days ago but have not decorated it. We bought Noah's presents three days ago which are still in the trunk of the car. I ordered absolutely gorgeous birth announcements for Ezra but haven't taken them out of the shrink-wrap. I have 24343240490 thank-you notes to send out, I've missed three birthdays, need a haircut, should really consider removing the terribly chipped toenail polish I've been sporting for eight weeks and I think that load of laundry has been sitting in the washer for two days now, ew.

But. The baby is awake. So...




PS New post over at the Luvs/Momspeak site. Yeah, I'm pretty tapped out of fantastic time and money-saving tips already, so it's similar nonsense over there, too.




Sorry. Forgot what I was saying.


Christmas gifts purchased: Zero

Number of haircuts missed: three

Thank you notes from my son's first birthday in august sent out: Zero

Last pedicure: Sometime during 2007. I think.

You? Have two kids. One who is basically a newborn.

Me? One sixteen month old. So, yeah.


Oh-yeah . .the Whazzat? game. My daughter is full-blown into that. At Kohls recently she went up to the jewelery dept and pointed at a watch in the case.


"A watch"

"Whazzat?" points at another one.

"Another watch."

"Whazzat?" points at the next one.

"Josie there are 300 watches in the case. They are all watches!"


"An elephant"


The ceiling fan can be a great babysitter before the bebe starts rolling around. Spike is still mesmerized by them, and these days he waves at them like they're old friends. But when we was wee, I would lay him in the middle of my bed, put pillows all around him -- just in case -- turn on the ceiling fan, and he'd be as happy as a pig in slop long enough for me to fling myself through the shower! So, smiling at mini blinds and fans may seem odd and you may wish he'd smile at you instead, but it's all about working it to your advantage!!


You had a baby eight weeks ago and are bummed because you're not back to your pre-baby weight yet? Girl! I didn't get back to that weight until my son was almost a year old, and that was with me working my ass off (literally) at the gym four days a week!

I think you're doing GREAT!!


I really must commend you on your use of adjectives! And your dreams. What the freak is up with those? They are hilarious yet vaguely disturbing.

Sorry about the coffee situation. I'd have sent you some if you had told me you were out.

exile on mom street

We are at the stage of Wass At? Where once we have responded our son (age 2.5) CORRECTS us.

"No, not dragon, dye-sore!"

Even though it is clearly a fire-breathing dragon...

Good times.


Tea is NO substitute for coffee!?! NONE!


Yeah, tea does suck.


My kid's version of the Whazzat game: Whazzat? That ma-a-a-kes...?

I cannot WAIT for the corrections to start. And knowing his genetic predispositions, I know it's coming.

Karen W

I totally understand. My baby just turned 16 weeks old and I sent out the birth announcements last week. I'm finally able to shower before noon too but I just let the 2 year old run around tearing things up and let the baby cry. Poor baby has the short end of the stick. She's doing a lot of crying while I try to do something else.


Gawd he is cute!


As an Englishwoman I feel it is my duty to stick up for tea.
Tea is marvelous.
Truly - there is nothing in this world that cant be fixed by a nice cup of tea.
Emphasis on NICE.
Please, ask Santa for a kettle for Christmas!
I too have suffered the indignity of microwaving tea, and it scarred me for life.

Alicia Millis

I don't mind mindless posts as long as they have baby pictures!!!

AHh he is too cute. And I am so happy to hear you guys are not sick again!


You make me think I might really want babies of my own someday!

Laundry? What dat?
And remember to always keep potatoes and your spud cannon locked securely in separate, approved gun safes.


I must agree--I always have a sinking suspicion that the kids already know what "that" is. They just like to drive you bonkers. :)


Re: Point the 6th -- I'm totally with you. Lucas is constantly pointing at the sky or street or wall with 1 million things on it asking asking What Dat? Then when I (obviously) name the wrong thing he starts in with the two syllable mo-om (as in mo-om you're such an idiot, I know what THAT is, I'm asking about THAT).


My favorite three-year-old question received to date?
"Mommy, what that tree doing?"


Picture Christmas cards purchased: 24
Pictures taken to go in cards: Big fat zero
State of toenails: chipped
Height of laundry mound in laundry room: three feet
Prepregnancy weight: Unattainable goal
Ages of kids: 5 and 9

But everyone is alive and semi-intelligent, so I am claiming it as a win.


Oh, and most recent kid question: Are Mother Nature and Father Time married or just good friends?


1) Ezra=ridiculously adorably gorgeously rolly polly cute. YUM. Makes me actually look FORWARD to my bundle that will arrive in 6 months and the reactions from his mommy-attached older brother.
2) I want to send you our old nanny so you can get out of the house by yourself and have fun. Since we moved away from Arlington, she still needs work. ;)
4) I am a tea expert, being from a country where one drinks tea all day and coffee after dinner. Just get some PG tips from World Market (sometimes Harris Teeter has them too) - best black tea ever, doesn't matter where you boil your water. It's YUM.
5) YUMMY YUMMY BABY and if I may say so YUMMY Noah too.


Thank you cards from oldest boy's bday gifts in Oct bought = 0
Christmas cards bought= 0
Christmas gifts bought= all but 4
Pre-pregnancy weight last seen = 1998 (my oldest is 10 and youngest is 2.5)

I don't get questions from lil's demands "Dat ay mama, DAT ay" while insistently pointing wherever it is that I'm supposed to go to. Oh, and "no mama, no" ....gotta love that.

You're doing good girl....and who cares about the laundry?!??! Just NOM NOM NOM on those cheecks and that belly and all will be fine!


My response to vague "what's that" questions are always to say "I don't know, what do YOU think it is?" which at least gives me a 5 second break.

Or else I make something totally preposterous up, which might actually be damaging to my daughter's education, but it's sort of fun.


Tea must have coffee.
Ezra is scrumptious.
I'm sure you look fabulous!
What's that? why? what's that?...those days drive me crazy


Presents in the trunk....great hiding spot! EXCEPT if it is a piano. Kiki thinks the car is breaking down everytime we stop. Let's not even talk about my toenails and hair!


Go buy coffee, stat! better yet, someone send coffee, Stat!! Ezra is beautiful and Happy!.

"Whazz Dis"

"What do YOU think it is?"

Provides a short break from formulating real answers...

-ashley (FKA henna)

Tracey B.

The baby pictures are all I really wanted to see, anyway. Just skimmed past all the bothersome words to drool on the cheeks. Drool, btw, is not good for a keyboard...

Martha don't have to type.

Just post Yummy pictures of baby and Noah and occasionally the Hamster-dog.

Really!!! I love your writing, but my GOODNESS....sometimes there are no words!!

Jen L.

I feel ya on the tea. I've had a stomach bug for 2 days (which reminded me several times of your post where "someone had diarrhea on the basement steps" and made me laugh) and couldn't take coffee. Tea does indeed blow in comparison.

Fondue forks=funniest thing I have ever heard. Ever.

Ezra=NOM. Going to go bite my own baby boy now.

Katie Kat

GOOD LORD THAT FACE! Ez iz adorabulz!!!!!

I'm terribly afraid you may have to kiss your pre-pregnancy baby weight goodbye forever. Or at least you will find that your body is forever a different entity...a CHANGELING if you will. SCARY THOUGHT! If you crack the code for getting back to the old bod, please to pass it on to all of us OKTHXBAI.


Like you, I hated the vague "what, why, where" questions. But then, then came the non-stoptalkingjusttohearmyselftalk talk... I'd go back to "why?" in a heartbeat. Some conversations are 254 minutes long without a breath inbetween.. usually in the car or while I'm on the phone. And end with "right momma?" Which means everything the kid says is right because I haven't been listening.


Skip Christmas and save yourself.


You had me at bacon.


I only get the what dat, mommy? questions in the car. Where I can't possibly see what she's looking at/pointing at/talking about. I also get what happened? a lot. I never know what happened. Sad. But Ezra is wa-a-ay cute!


I was so glad to read that Ezra smiles at your mini blinds more than you, because my 5-week-old always smiles at the wall instead of me. I was starting to worry I'm horribly ugly or something :)


Alison loves to pat my chest and ask me, "Whassat, Mom?" When I told her, "My chest," she said, "Whass your chess name?"


Oh god, when I'm sleep deprived I feel hungry all the time. I think it's my brain trying to get the endorphins however it can. Not enough sleep? Okay, let's try macaroni and cheese!

May you have a few unexpected lulls in the next few weeks.


Evite should totally make a "thank-you card" option. How much would that piss everyone off?

And don't stick forks in your ears. You may want to hear again sometime in the near future.

Dr. Maureen

Your baby is adorable, but I am here about the tea. Tea from the microwave is not tea. It is dishwater. Bleah. The secret to making good tea is to add BOILING water to the tea. Never add tea to the water. Loose tea leaves are nice, but unnecessary. So if you don't drink tea terribly often and don't want to have a kettle taking up a burner on your stove, might I recommend a Sunbeam Hot Shot? It gets the water to a boil quickly, one cup at a time, and tea made from that will be a HUGE improvement over your microwave dishwater.

Sprite's Keeper

Oh, yeah. I'd say the laundry in the wash will be a re-do. Second the Ew.


Totally cracking up because I have never "heard" anyone else say "Oh my God Becky" besides my husband and I. Gotta love Sir Mix Alot!


First of all, I second Dr. Maureen with the electric kettle suggestion! It makes tea-making SO much easier.

Also, my mom loves to tell the story of when I was going through the "WHAT DAT" phase. Spring had just begun, and I was "WHAT DAT"-ing everything in the yard. When I pointed at a piece of tree bark, Mom said, "Bark." This really bothered me, so I kept asking, and she kept telling me, "It's bark!" Finally, I asked "BUT WHERE ALL DE OTHER DOGGY PARTS???"


Regarding your horrible tea situation: as an earlier poster noted, microwaves are bad, bad, bad! If you don't have a tea kettle, just boil up a small pan of water and pour it into your cup (not while holding the baby, of course - it can be a bit "splashy"!) Even your Target tea experience will improve by at least 212%


Old school final net hairspray makes the best fuel for a potato cannon (please do not ask why I know that)!

And the baby smell - the baby smell turns my ovaries into Mexican jumping babies. It's like crack for non-mothers.


My two-year-old LOVES the "what his name?" question. It is so embarrassing when we are out somewhere and he points to every person and very loudly says, "MAMA! WHAT HIS NAME?" So, I just make up stuff. "His name is John. That's Lindsay. etc." But then of course I get, "His name not John." ARGGHHHH!


Just wanted to let you know that my newly 3 year old has been doing the same thing. "What's dat, Mama?" accompanied by finger pointing is a constant. Made worse by the fact that I'm usually driving or otherwise occupied. I've been trying to get her to tell me if "it" is up or down or what color "it" is, all to no avail. And then the wailing begins (her) because Mama is stupid. And then the wailing begins (me), because when you can't beat them, join them. Good luck and let me know if you figure "it" out.


You are making me feel really guilty over here because you're all thinking about your toenail polish and you've got at least 1,000 balls in the air and you're juggling them all and you're still thinking about your toenail polish.

I, on the other hand, just realized I've been wearing my toenail polish for so long that it's grown all the way off all but the big toenails, and it hasn't been removed since August, and there might be something growing under there by this point. And I? Have no excuse.


Outwitting the "What's that" game: bear in mind it's taken me three kids to learn this.

Three year old: "what's that?"

Me: "What do YOU think it is?"

Three year old: "Oh, izza bunny/doggie/truck" (and most of the time they get it right, the little boogers)

Me: "I think you're right!"

This achieves several objectives:

1) You do not go insane with trying to figure out what they're asking about, because they'll TELL YOU.

2) You do not go insane because they do more of the talking.

3) They are so stinking proud of themselves.


I can't get over how much he looks like you!! And also, I'm on the tea boat, but I don't buy expensive fancy tea. Try the Golden Honey Darjeeling flavor from Celestial's awesome! :)


I just had to add more to the tea thing - in order to enjoy tea you must buy PG Tips.
I just had to buy Lipton tea bags in desperation and oh good god, it tastes like stale dishwater.
Try the goodness of PG!

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