Let Your Guilt Flag Fly

Oh my God, yesterday's post. I'm sorry. I fully own up to the fact that the last paragraph in particular got COMPLETELY away from me, with the dramatics and the...well, the dramatics. I went out to lunch with my nursing bra unhooked and I posted on my blog with my mommy guilt showing. Same diff. Kind of. Look, I plead sleep deprivation, both for the entry and that metaphor there. So I was rehashing the entry a few hours later while nursing the baby (That's what I do while I breastfeed. I think about my blog. And drool. And hallucinate that I'm awake, lying in bed and breastfeeding, only I'm kind of asleep? Because I don't think there's a swimming pool in my bedroom?), and I blearily did the math that November minus June equals...five months. Five months without speech or occupational therapy. Even in the accelerated life of a toddler, five months is not (NEWSFLASH) really that long, or (NEWSFUCKINGFLASH) the end of the world. So now I'm embarrassed about the whole "I LET MY CHILD DOWWWWN! I FAAAAAAIL!" tone I veered into, but grateful for all your lovely and reassuring comments, and sorry that I made y'all feel... Read more →

The Tuesday Redirect

So my maternity leave officially ends this week, all around. Just in time for all our family to depart and for me to suddenly be thrust into solo double-hammer-time parenting for the very first time. Not really sure which rocket scientist worked THAT schedule out. Oh, wait, it was me. Right. Okay. *wanders off stage right, audience hears muffled cries of "STUPID, STUPID" and some head-slapping sound effects* Ahem. Anyway! I'm back at the Advice Smackdown (thanks to Sarah of Whoorl and Kelly of Mocha Momma for filling in the last couple guest-author spots), although I admit I'll be cheating a bit longer by only answering easy questions. So those of you who have submitted questions that require actual brain power and thinking, well...you just hold onto your horses there, missy. I'd say it'll be at least mid-December before my mind catches up to my typing fingers. In the meantime, mush and nonsense, ahoy! Baby sucking on Daddy's pinkie finger = mush. Baby wearing floppy-eared puppy booties = nonsense And on that note, this week's Time & Money-Saving Tip is up at the Luvs MomSpeak site. It's about pee-pee. Yes, it is. I'm certainly not expecting another 136 comments on... Read more →

And Everything Else

My dad is back in the hospital. On Monday night he had a coughing fit while taking his medication (nothing super out of the ordinary -- he chokes very easily since losing his larynx to cancer) and aspirated a pill into his lung. He's now being treated for aspiration pneumonia. The good news is that he appears to be responding very well to the treatment and we're hoping he'll come home today. My parents got to "see" the baby via webcam a few hours before the accident, and I spoke with him on the phone yesterday and as always, he sounds great. *** We're all sick too, although in a much less dramatic pneumonia-ish way. Noah came down with a bad, baaaaad cold last week -- he woke up wheezing on Thursday, and because Daddy was home scored himself a trip to the DOCTOR, where Daddy was told that it was indeed just a bad, baaaaaad cold. As we all know, Mama would never have taken him to the doctor, but would have instead smeared some Vaseline on his chest and called it a day. *** I did take Ezra to the doctor yesterday, obviously because he's new and shiny... Read more →


I first noticed Ezra's tongue-tie the morning after he was born. Something increasingly felt "off" in his otherwise picture-perfect, open-wide baby-bird-mouth latch, I'd yet to see his tongue protrude past his lower lip, and when it did, it looked exactly like the top of a heart. I immediately started looking for someone capable-looking to snip that sucker back, but after a few dozen more increasingly painful latches I was ready to hand my baby off to anybody with a pair of scissors. You there! Orderly! Wanna make a few bucks? Go sterilize your car keys. So by yesterday afternoon, when I FINALLY had an appointment with a pediatric surgeon, I had no patience for the millionth assurance that a frenectomy was no big deal, that it was better to get this taken care of now rather than later, that it would only hurt him for a split second or two. I briefly wondered if I came across as heartless, and if the proper response to being officially told that yes, Ezra most definitely needed his frenulum separated was possibly not what I said, which was: GIDDY UP. The surgeon asked me to leave the room during the procedure and go... Read more →

nOT yET Mastering teh 0ne-handed Typing Thing

Baby may be cross between vampire and those newly hatched velociraptors from Jurassic Park, what with the FEEDING and FEEDING and rarrrry little squawks and howls. I sometimes stick my face in front of his during the frantic rooting, because it amuses me when he attempts to latch on to my nose. *** Yeah. So I typed those two sentences awhile ago. Three days, two days, something like that. It's time to admit that entries involving "words" may still be beyond me at this point. You guys like pictures, right? (Photos ahoy after the jump, so you won't want to kill me over the slow load times.) A few more from the hospital stay: Two hours old, or so. Last night, on our first family pizza outing, which was my idea, wheeee percocet!: And today. One week old: (TURTLE!) PS Things are great. We are great. Breastfeeding (!!!) is great. Still just all around disgustingly happy and great. Seriously could be talked into having a dozen more babies right now, because I am genuinely loving every second of this. Jason is "home" but stuck finishing up one last important project for work that he couldn't delegate to a coworker so... Read more →

Preparation Stages

Stage One: The Welcome-to-the-Suck Practicalist Stage Two: The Low-Supply Dreamer Stage Three: The I-Can-Accessorize-ANYTHING Conspicuous Consumer Stage Four: The Ain't-No-Fool Realist Read more →

My Boobs. Did You Miss Them?

So I'm dreaming about the baby pretty regularly now -- shockingly nice, normal dreams where he (he is always a boy, apologies to the hair-bow hopefuls) is indeed of the human variety, although I did have one dream where he was born with a full set of teeth -- and weirdly, every dream eventually includes breastfeeding. I say weirdly, because breastfeeding always seems to be really easy in these dreams. DING DING DING! BIZARRO WORLD! (I know the loyal, long-time readers hate it when I spend half an entry recapping three-year-old plot points, but I cannot help it! It's something of a compulsion with this pregnancy, to neatly file everything into Then and Now columns, and I'm entirely too lazy to dig through the archives for links.) (Plus every time I go into the archives I get delete-happy because can you honestly BELIEVE what a fucking longwinded know-it-all neurotic twit I was back then? God.) (BACK THEN! HAR HAR HAR HAAAAAAAR COUGH.) Anyway, the Cliff's Notes version of Mah Boobs: I have fibrocystic breast disease. It's been relatively quiet lately, but during my early 20s it was a constant source of annoyance and cancer scares. The cysts would occasionally fill... Read more →