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September 2005
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November 2005

Crap Casserole

GOD. So yesterday the fine folks at decided to link to the Company Cookbook album. Five bazillion people came stampeding over and I'm sitting around with my nursing bra down yakking about purple nipples. (Also, let's not overlook the obvious fact that yes, both James Lileks and Candyboots did disgusting recipe commentary first, and also better, and I am the first to throw up my hands and admit this. So you can all stop pointing that out now.) (Also also, the cookbook's back cover had a wee copyright symbol on it, so yikes, I really hope I don't get sued now that it's gone all Internet phenomenon. If it makes Mystery Company feel better, I do plan to make that one banana bread recipe.) (Also also also, DAVE BARRY! HI! You are funny and when I was in Miami last summer I kept repeatedly pointing out the Tribune's offices to Jason until he made me stop because I am a huge dork.) So I'm trying to think of something witty and brilliant to talk about. Something BESIDES the state of my boobs and my son's butt and my purse dog's busted leg and how many times I have been... Read more →

Noah's Birth Story, Part One

Thursday, September 29, 3:15 p.m. diana: how are you feeling? amalah: braxton-hicks-ish diana: excellent amalah: ugh, they suck diana: maybe they're real? amalah: they hurt and there's absolutely no pattern to them amalah: hoping they turn into something, but so far they're just duds Famous last words. All day, the contractions came and went. Jason came home from work and I whined about how crappy I felt. I started to feel the contractions in my back and I could no longer talk during them. Still, they were all over the place and I dismissed it all as false labor. We ordered Indian food. I did laundry, clipped the dog's toenails and brushed the cat's teeth. Then I MacGuyvered up the iron so it fit in the holder I bought months ago using packing tape. 20 minutes apart. I realized the contractions were coming regularly sometime during Survivor. Jason started timing contractions during The Apprentice. (Yes, all major life milestones can be measured by reality television.) At 10 p.m. we took Ceiba for a walk. The contractions kept coming. We started to let ourselves get excited. Could this be it? Was it really going to happen? Nine minutes apart. Jason started... Read more →


I'm currently working on part one (part ONE!) of the Birth Story. It's taking forever. God, I'm so melodramatic and talky. In the meantime, photos! Which are lazy and easy. Ceiba has still not left her Pillow of Recouperation... Noah still sleeps 99.9999% of the time... But he looks damn cute doing it... And I was going to wait until my tummy was nice and flat to post one of these "final belly shot" photos, but I don't think that's going to happen until sometime in 2007. So, here it is... (No, I'm not quite sure how that all fit in there either.) Read more →

Oh Right! I Also Have a Dog

Ceiba came home from the hospital last night. She's doing fine. Yes, that's a little heart on her cast. My vet is apparently on a mission to destroy me with unbearable, heartbreaking cuteness. She has a steel plate in her leg now, and will set off metal detectors at the airport. If we, you know, ever took her to the airport. Which I kind of want to do just so I can tell the security people that my dog has a steel plate in her leg. Which she got in 'Nam. Max is doing fine too, and actually seemed to miss Ceiba quite a bit. You may want to call NASA and see if the planet has gone spinning off its axis or something. (I've given Ceiba full custody of my Boppy pregnancy support pillow.) And now, because it is illegal to have a Noah-less entry, here are more photos that I swear, completely fail to capture just how deliciously cute this baby is. (He kept us up until 4:30 am last night, which I totally deserved after bragging about his sleeping habits yesterday. Oh well, at least we got to watch a really awesome episode of Quantum Leap where... Read more →

State of the Boobdom

Dear Internet, I love you. That is all. Amalah No, that's not all. The comments and emails from yesterday's post made me cry. Of course, realizing we were out of Milano cookies made me cry, but still. This was a good cry. Thank you for all the hugs, support, encouragement and sharing of your own stories. Things? Much better today. (Things that have made me cry today, besides the aforementioned Milano situation, which has since been remedied: Jason buying me maxi-pads at the store without blinking an eye, a commercial for antidepressants that featured a dog sitting forlornly by the front door with a tennis ball in his mouth because his owner was too depressed to play with him and the realization that my stretch marks kind of resemble a Doppler image of a Gulf Coast hurricane.) But! I met with a different lactation consultant yesterday, and I loved her so much I came very close to hugging her and crying into her pretty, pretty hair. I refrained because I was topless at the time and figured that might be Weird. (The other L/C is actually someone I think I would like very much under normal circumstances and just had... Read more →

Things That Have Reduced Me To Hot Hysterical Tears In The Past 24 Hours

Items marked with * have been assigned SUPER BONUS POINTS for happening out in public. 1) The clueless cashier at Babies R' Us who, completely oblivious to the car seat attached to our cart, looked at my belly and asked when I was due.* 2) Guilt over thinking that I'm kind of glad Ceiba isn't around because she really can be a huge pain in the ass. But also guilt over not going to visit her at the vet after her surgery. 3) The news that Ceiba will be put on the doggie equivalent of bed rest for the next two weeks, which is so so sad but OH MY GOD, I'VE BARELY BEEN ABLE TO STAY IN BED THIS WEEK AND IF SHE GETS PAMPERED MORE THAN ME I WILL THROW HER OUT THE WINDOW.* 4) The words "8 pounds, 13 ounces."* 5) Also: "poor milk supply," "hospital-grade breast pump," "20 minutes every two hours" and "dad will feed baby formula while mom pumps."* 6) A lactation consultant who, while I was still sobbing over items 4 and 5, proceeded to berate me about all of the following: the pacifier she spotted in my diaper bag, our technique for... Read more →

We Broke the Baby

Not THE baby, but the other one. Scene: Veterinary Emergency Room, midnight. Amy Storch (as seen in The Washingtonian) hobbles into lobby. She's wearing a stunning ensemble of a stained white t-shirt and maternity sweatpants that she never actually wore during pregnancy because hello, frumpy. The nursing pads shoved into her ill-fitting nursing bra are clearly visible. She's wearing no makeup and her hair is in a ponytail on the top of her head, a la Britney Spears.The only trace of the girl she used to be is the designer diaper bag she's dragging behind her which THANK GOD she packed it up months ago, because otherwise it'd probably contain no actual diapers, much less the little tube of Vasoline and the extra baby socks that are in there now. You'd think she was four or five months pregnant if it weren't for the sight of her husband coming in behind her with a three-day-old infant in a car seat. In her arms, she's carrying a very small dog. The very small dog's front leg is bent in a way that very small dogs' legs should not bend. She gets to the front desk and can only sob. Aaaaaaannnnnd...that was... Read more →


All day (well, at least since we got home from the hospital around noonish), it's gone like this: Feed baby. Apply copious amounts of Lasinoh cream. Swaddle baby. Realize that there is indeed a huge difference between "swaddling blankets" and "receiving blankets," and that difference is a crucial extra six inches or so in length. Put baby in bassinet. Go to computer and try desperately to think of some way to even begin to describe what has happened to us. Baby cries. Ditch Internet like last week's garbage. (There are also frequent doses of Percoset.) (And tales of a husband and brand-new papa so amazing you wouldn't believe me if I told you.) Anyway, we have a baby. Noah Corbin, delivered via emergency c-section after 10 hours of rapid-crazy-fire labor and one hour of pushing. The surgery saved Noah's life. But that's a whole other story, and one that I want to tell you the right way. Just not today. Today this is all that matters. Welcome home, little Prince of Everything. You're even better than anything we ever imagined you to be. (Ceiba would like to tell you all that IT IS THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE... Read more →


Hello All. This is Jason, performing a substitute post for Amy while she's at the hospital. Amy asked me to fill you all in on the birth of our baby boy, but I'm not going to give away everything. Amy will be following up with an entry about the whole experience when she's discharged from the hospital on Monday, which I'm sure you're all just dying to read about. But for now, here's our new baby boy. Isn't he just the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?! Noah Corbin Storch was born at 10:32 AM on September 30th. He weighed 9 lbs. 15oz. and was 21 inches tall. More to come later... Read more →