Oh, goddammit. We're all sick again. I'm not sure a six-week-old with a cold is any more or less pathetic than a three-week-old with a cold, but I do know that they are a hell of a lot more indignant about it. Our Thanksgiving plans have been jettisoned, what with illness striking down every branch of our family tree. (My mother seems to think she needs to protect the baby from her own case of the flu -- it's kind of adorable that she doesn't realize that it's actually US who are the traveling band of pestilence, sent from the DC Metro area to spread disease and mucusosity up and down the East Coast, and she should really change their locks.) So we're staying home now and cooking dinner for ourselves. Although I dunno. I'm pretty tired; couldn't I just skip the cooking part and just eat sticks of butter directly out of the package? In other news, I started this website five years ago this week. I also remember saying something like, "If I'm still doing this dumb website in five years, you can go ahead and shoot me." Read more →

So the baby has started sleeping SIX ENTIRE HOURS at night. SIX. Two whole nights in a row, this has happened, and two whole nights I have watched those six hours slip away, utterly wasted, as I've remained wide awake for one reason or another. Firstly, no one informed my boobs of the new schedule, so Saturday night was a blurry combination of soggy pajamas and sheets and moments of PANIC PANIC THE BABY IS SURELY DEAD PANIC. Secondly, Noah is sick again. Up all night with a hacking cough, all moist and sneezy, home from school today, and DEAR GOD, we have watched our new WALL-E DVD more times than honestly should fit into the number of hours we've actually owned the thing. We've also discovered the joy of construction paper hand turkeys. Oh, boy, were THOSE ever fun, like, the first 14 or 26 times. Some photos, though, from healthier moments this weekend: And just now, from today's pajama-veg-out-fest: Eh, you know, this two kid thing isn't so bad. There's a lot more germ-smearing than I was expecting, and minutes after I took this picture Noah beaned poor Ezra in the face with a dog toy, but other... Read more →

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 →

First, the insanity report: I took both boys to the doctor's office today for check-ups. Approximately seven hours later I emerged from the little exam room, only to smack face-first into a wall, probably from a combination of plunging blood sugar* and the disorientation that comes right after one loses one's soul, as mine flew out the window sometime around the moment right after both boys had their meaty thighs stabbed with needles and started screeeeeeeeeeaming and screeeeeeeeeeeeeeaming and I figured WHAT THE HELL, LET'S BREAK SOME FACIAL BONES WHILE WE'RE AT IT. *My plans to eat lunch before the appointment** were derailed by a leaking poopy diaper, of the Turn This Car Around And Head Home, Oh My Hell Variety. I grabbed a half-empty and fully-stale bag of chocolate graham cracker bears in a panic since I did That Thing you're never supposed to do, That Thing Where You Leave Your Toddler In The Car While You Run Inside To Change The Baby's Diaper Real Quick But Then The Baby Pees On His Head And It All Takes Much Longer Than You Planned, but then Noah ended up demanding most of the chocolate graham cracker bears, which I served... Read more →

So you know that thing about second babies and how you never take as many photos of them and then one day you're forced to explain why their baby book makes it appear that they left the hospital and went straight to kindergarten? I hate to admit that it's mostly true, even for us crazy obsessive blogger types, who should AT LEAST be motivated by the occasional writer's block to pick up the camera. (Liiiiiike, saaaaay, YESTERDAY? HMMM?) I initially had a brilliant, sappy-as-all-get-out hypothesis about why I have trouble remembering to take photos every day -- listen to this, and see if you can spot the post-c-section Percocet -- I decided that it was because I now fully appreciate how FAST, how FLEETING infancy is, and that I CHOOSE to not witness it through the lens of a camera. I CHOOSE to simply drink in the moments and faces instead of diving for the camera every few hours. Forget Flickr, I'm too busy making MEMORIES here, memories that I will never, ever forget, even though I now call every member of my family JasoNoaEzCeibaMaxYOUTHERE. The important memories aren't going anywhere, I swear. Of course, this is a gigantic steaming... Read more →

Come ON, baby. Smile! Show the nice people how you totally smile sometimes! Seriously. I have 539 photos of this exact same expression already. Please? Wait! Is that? That's it! Keep going! SMILING HE'S SMILING HIT CAMERA BUTTON FASTER QUICK OMFG HE'S SMILING AND... Okay. He's done. (That was easily the most exciting five seconds of my entire day.) Read more →

Preparing for a scheduled c-section is a lot like preparing for a long, cross-country trip. Or maybe a trip to the moon. The days beforehand are a blur of lists and packing and obsessing about the lists and packing. And dusting and laundry and the state of your toenails. The conflicting information you get from the hospital and your doctor's office feels like the airport keeps changing your departure gate on you. Bloodwork two days before! no, 24 hours! No, the day of the surgery! You need a doctor's note! No, you don't! No food or drink after midnight! Water is okay! No, it's not! Only there's no Expedia confirmation email to cling to, just a nurse whose name you didn't catch on the other end of the phone. *** I'd gotten the pre-op bloodwork done on Tuesday and was outfitted with an assortment of hospital bracelets. Jason's mother had gone with me -- she was terrified that I was going to faint if I went alone, I was just terrified of getting lost inside the hospital -- and then that night she insisted we go out for one last dinner out, sans child, pre childREN. For the first time... Read more →

here lies amy she was run over by a train the sleep deprivation express (station stops at 1:10, 3:35, 5:01, 6:30 and 8:04 am) she is squished very flat now and smells like baby vomit she may have possibly recovered except there was no coffee there was only a baby who would not ever no way not even nuh uh don't even think about it tolerate being put down in a swing in a sling in a crib with a bib on a couch nestled next to my leg seriously oh my god I'm RIGHT HERE and oh look it's time to go pick up The Other One and oh wow that poop sounded impressive and syrupy anyway here lies amy she is really very very tired. I fail to see how any of this is my problem. Now let's talk about getting some fresh pants up in here, okay? Read more →

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 →

Well. We're all still alive. So that's something. I'll spare you most of the slightly horrific, nose-blow-by-blow details of my weekend, except for: 1) Chest cold, i.e. coughing up my fucking toe bones. 2) Sinus infection, i.e. OH MY GOD EVERYBODY PLEASE STOP HAMMERING ON MY FACE. 3) Double ear infection, i.e. Noah no longer getting any sympathy for his SINGLE ear infection, like WHATEVER. 4) Pinkeye, i.e. or possibly "just" the double ear infection leaking out of both of my eyes. 5) Hives from an allergic reaction to the doses of antibiotic I swiped from Noah, i.e. HIVES? YOU THINK I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT SOME PUSSY ASS HIVES AT THIS POINT? Show me anaphylatic shock and then we'll talk. Yeah. My spirit was officially broken around 5 am on Sunday morning, when I woke up with both eyes sealed shut, realizing just how sick I still was, and trying to cry because I just wanted to feel better, but being unable to cry because my eyes were fucking sealed shut. Luckily, darkest before dawn and all that. I am feeling better, save for the sensation that the left side of my face -- from my eardrums down to... Read more →