And this is when I lose my mind.

I am not sure what is going on. During my time as a mother, I have realized that there are two types of days. One type leaves you feeling like you are on top of the world. Everything went smoothly. Baby went down for naps and bed without a fuss. Ate like a champ. Played so well with the dog- didn't pull her lip off once. Cooed and laughed at perfectly strange strangers, melting their hearts as well as my own.
Then there are the days when you are running around, unaware of the spit-up dripping down your back, your hair in a ponytail, held back by only the grease that has been building for a week, chasing a child that cannot be the same one that you nurtured and sang to for nine months, all the while leaving bits of your brain in the dusty corners of your house, never to be seen again.

Today (and yesterday) has been from door number two. My child is the devil. She no longer cries; she WAILS. MAMAMAMABABABABABAMAMAMAMABABABABABABAAAAAAAAA!!! And she does that every single time I set her in her crib. This leads to sleepless mornings, afternoons, and evenings. I'm very tired.

But look how cute! I must be exaggerating. How could a little doll this precious cause any KIND of trouble?

She seems to be taking leaps and bounds towards 'toddler-ville'. Everyday she moves more quickly. Everyday she seems closer to crawling (up on all fours now!). Everyday she seems a bit more verbal. Everyday. Every single stinken day. She will be seven months old on the fourth. Where has the time gone?

Oh, there it is. Right next to that bit of my brain that used to control the ability to speak to adults without mentioning the words 'diapers', 'poop', or 'boobs'. Gosh I miss that bit.

Housewife Extraordinaire

The transformation is nearly complete.


I got myself a new ride. It's spacious. I can fit my kid, my dog, the stroller, various diaper bags, and like 80 people in it. Plus, it's got a little video camera thing on the back, which helps me aim better for those little random mutt-dogs that run wild in our subdivision. It's lovely. Paul says we lost a lot of cool points by getting this... but I say that we gained a whole hell of a lot of AWESOME points because of it, so it doesn't matter. And I am the woman, so I am right.

Not only that, but because you guys are awful at keeping me accountable about my weight (remember this?), I've gone and joined a weight-watchers group. I really just need help making better choices when I eat. It's so easy to just graze during the day, and usually whatever is easiest is the most unhealthy. So... now I will have some face-to-face accountability, and an irritating way to figure out how much of what I should eat. The whole process works on a point system, with everything having it's own worth in points. You get a personal daily allowance of points based on your height, weight, gender, so on and so forth. But... it's pretty awesome because I'm nursing and that gives me a buttload of extra points. I actually get more than Paul is allowed... (Paul isn't doing this... he will just be eating healthy with me, but we figured we would figure out how many points he would be allowed if he tagged along... and ha! less than me).

I will try and give updates on how things are going on here, not that anyone would really care. I am not ashamed to yell my weight out on the megaphone that is the internet, because, hey, I had a baby, and if I am allowed to be overweight at any point in my life, it's the here and now. So bring on the donuts!! I mean... no... the apples. Bring on the apples.

So, last night, I weighed in at 179.6. I am not expecting anything spectactular until I get used to eating better. They said a healthy loss for me, because I am nursing, would be one pound a week... So here it goes.

***

And, a video. THIS ONE'S FOR YOU, MOM!!

To be a child again...

It was a good weekend. I missed my boy, but it was nice to just hang and watch girlie movies and not worry about cooking for two and so on and so forth. Yesterday, we took a break from our laziness and headed up to the park. I did not, however, take Violet with me. I was planning on taking Alex to the swings, and I didn't want to have to worry about my dog running and jumping in the lake that is currently a very thick green color. Normally, whenever Violet senses that we are leaving, she will head straight to her box and lay down. But yesterday, it was like she knew I was leaving her home while Alex and I went to THE FUNNEST PLACE ON EARTH. She was going downstairs, two steps at a time, stopping and looking back with a forlorn look in her eyes. I finally herded her all the way to her box, and as I was locking it up, she started barking. It's like she was trying to convince me that whatever grudge I was obviously holding was not worth leaving her. And I was all, You remember that one time you went to the bathroom on my floor five times in one night?!?! THIS IS FOR THAT. Then I locked her up and kicked the kennel a few times, laughing and rubbing my hands together.

But we did eventually make it to the swings (yay! hubby just got home!). Alex was incredibly at ease. She absolutely loved them. Although she did try to lift herself out of the swing on more than one occasion, and I am pretty sure that she would have succeeded had I not foiled her attempts. Strong girl.

i HATE cooties.

We are having a girl's weekend. I kicked Paul out (or... he went up north with some buddies to go to a football game, golf, and drink beer... poor thing). And now, I am relaxing (or... trying to figure out how I can manage to take a shower with the door closed today or enjoy a cup of coffee that is at the very least lukewarm). I've already enjoyed a breakfast of champions (leftover chicken parmesan from Olive Garden), and I am planning on hitting up a Blockbuster store sometime later today to acquire a ridiculously girlie movie that would never be allowed in the house when the testosterone is home. And I plan to grab a pizza from my buddy Papa John for dinner. Not to bad.

In other news, I am about to make the big plunge into 'soccer mom' territory. On Monday, if all goes according to plan, Paul and I could be driving around in a..... MiNiVaN. Awesome. I took a spin in it last night, and I kept laughing to myself because, as I told the salesman, I would have never thought that I would be driving a minivan before the age of 25. But I am totally cool with it. I am excited to have room to put things without having to pile it in the backseat and hope I don't take a turn to quickly and send it all onto Alex's lap. And this way, on our trips to Michigan, we can bring everything we need for the kid AND the dog and still have room to stretch out in. The one we are looking at has a dvd thing in the back, which does no good for me because I have a tendancy to spontaneously vomit when I attempt to do anything in the car aside from staring straight ahead with my hands on my lap, but can you say BABY EINSTIEN?? Lovely.
We were actually looking at two different vans, and we drove both of them last night. The first one, however, was kind of a bust. First, the car was dead when we went to turn it on. Then, one of the doors refused to open. And finally, the car started smoking not a mile from the dealership. Made the decision easy.

So, long story short, you should all come to St. Louis because now we could all ride in one car.

Big Steps.

Tonight was a big night. I got the ok from baby doc earlier today to go ahead and supplement a little formula at night. Alex has gone back to not sleeping through the night, and seemed to be very irritable after her last meal, which was not normal. So, with hesitant (and kind of undecided, to be honest) hands, I prepared a bottle for her after her last meal. I poured some water in, dumped some powder on top of it, and... there it was! Milk! It seems so unreal that the milk I have to work so hard to make (I am barely getting 2 ounces when I pump now...boo) just APPEARS so quickly. Honestly. Formula is a magical thing.

As wonderful as it seemed in the bottle, I wasn't sure if it was going to be serving its purpose or not. Alex flat out refuses to eat any food that's been mixed with formula instead of mama's homegrown recipe, so I didn't have too high of hopes. I had Paul give it to her so she didn't see the milk trucks staring her in the face and wonder why she wasn't getting the real stuff. I went upstairs, shaking my head, bracing myself for another long night. But... what's that sound? No, not Violet trying to bury her bone in her plastic kennel... That other sound. That... silence. SHE DRANK... NAY, CHUGGED... THE WHOLE BOTTLE. It was beautiful. I'm - so - proud!

So, we'll see how we go tonight. I could be eating my words. Her stomach could reject the formula, making for a much longer, and messier, night than normal. But I have high hopes.

Even if this works, she will still be nursing for the rest of her feedings. I am still feeding her every two hours (the doc asked me if she was eating every five hours. FIVE. What a luxury to be able to be out in public for 5 hours in a row without having to whip a boob out). But doc said that that's fine. Worse for me, but fine for her, as long as she is getting enough. So, nursing it is, with a little help at night. Works for me.

She's just getting so big so quickly, I am afraid what extra milk will do. Do I see a growth spurt on the horizon? Perhaps.

Look at those ears...

***

Violet is warming up to Alex now, which is really cute. Well, warming up is perhaps too strong of a phrase. She no longer avoids her at all costs. And I got it on camera. I am sure Violet will deny the fact that she is obviously infatuated with this little person at all costs... but we know the truth.

...

Well, since I forgot to hit 'publish post' last night, I guess I could update you on how our night was...

SHE SLEPT THE WHOLE NIGHT.

Didn't get up once. Barely moved.

So happy. :)

Dear Mr. Ike, Are you lost?

Please get out of my backyard.



And stop trying to infiltrate my laundry room with your little leaks of water and your nightcrawler spies.

Yours truly,

Laura.

Ow, ow, and uhhh... ow.

Today I got my hand stuck in between a cookie sheet filled with hot oil and an oven rack that had been sitting in 375 degree heat for 20 minutes. It was pleasant. I calmly, and of course politely, asked Paul if he would place the pan back in the oven for me so I could go and give my fingers a nice cold bath in the sink.

After being lucky enough to enjoy the gentle tingle that can accompany burns for about 20 minutes, I decided I would give in to my selfish needs and go get some burn ointment. I flashed up to Walgreens, leaving Paul, a crying baby, and a burning dinner behind in my wake. I promise you, it could not wait. I was tempted to actually rip open the box in the store because the lady that was in front of me in line thought that it would be best to talk to the cashier for ten minutes before swiping her card. I would have swiped my card for her just to get her moving but she seemed to be stocking up on absolutely anything a human could ever want... ever. I didn't think I could justify that expense to Paul when I got home. But I eventually made it through the line and back home, got the ointment on, and now I am left with one big shiny blistery finger with only remnants of pain here and there (it looks way more impressive in person, I assure you).

I had forgotten how badly burns hurt, it had been so long since I've had one. For being so little, they sure pack a punch.

Other than that exciting adventure, today has been good. My cold is progressing to the 'cough' stage, so it's more annoying than debilitating at this point. What I would give for some Nyquil.

Paul and I got some shopping done. New garbage can with a lid on it, because I MAY or MAY HAVE NOT found Alex pulling all of the trash out of the bin the other day. MAY or MAY HAVE NOT. And we got a bin WITH A LID for our recycling, because a plastic bag hanging on the handle of our pantry door is just not cutting it anymore. We also made a stop at the grocery store because Paul wanted to pick up some pumpkin beer he spotted the other day. We were in a store we don't normally shop at, so we were both a bit lost (this was the more expensive, uppity grocery store of the two in our vacinity... that is, if a grocery store can be uppity). At one point, we were in the back taking our time walking around, Alex in her carseat in the shopping cart, and Paul grabbed my arm and said in a very loud, demanding voice, "Go down the BEER AISLE!!" Several people stopped to stare, and I am pretty sure that I heard at least one audible gasp. As we were walking away (down the beer aisle), I told Paul that he should have followed up with a "wench" and we probably could have gotten kicked out... which would have been awesome.

Because Karma is a Witch

Hello Universe.
It's me, your own personal burp-rag, quite literally right now.

I know that posting a video of my unknowing daughter unable to keep her eyes open could be construed as cruel. But I promise you that was not the intent.

But still you come back at us like this.

Not an hour after putting Alex down for the night, I heard her coughing and gagging on the monitor (which actually happens quite a lot because of her reflux... usually not a sign of real trouble). I ran up the stairs and peeked in her room, and she was still coughing, so I went in and picked her up, intending on patting her back to help clear things up. But she is SOAKED. I'm talking hair, face, clothes... everything. And I am immediately struck in the face with the smell of vomit (and let it be known that just a few weeks ago I was asking my mother-in-law what the difference between vomit and spit-up are... and all she said was, "Trust me; you'll know." ... and now I do). I put her up on my shoulder and felt down on her bed (and, obviously, I had just changed all of her bedding this afternoon), and it was soaked as well. Then she started vomiting again. So now I am soaked. And the floor is soaked. And the little organizational boxes on her changing table are soaked (can you say... projectile?).

We got her changed (twice... she threw up again as soon as we got her in clean clothes) and bathed and back to sleep. She was a little shaken up, didn't want to be put down for a while (understandably so), but otherwise seems ok now. I'm at a loss as to what brought this on. She's had the sniffles for the past couple of days, but seemed to be on the mend. I suppose we will just see what happens tonight, perhaps give the doc a call in the morning if we have another episode.

I'm not a bad parent. I promise.

I just take advantage of humorous situations.

***

Bedtime? I think so.

This is why I love my husband.

This morning I walked in on Paul singing 'Everybody loves kung-fu fighting' while making himself a sandwich.

This probably isn't funny if you don't know Paul, but to me, this is hilarious. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes.

It's the little things, right? Right.

Inevitablility just punched me in the face.

I suppose I should have expected this at some point. It was bound to happen.

I am sick for the first time since I had Alex. Not only that, Alex is sick for the first time EVER. I was waiting for one or the other to happen, because they are bound to. But at the same time? Come on. All I want to do is lay down and watch America's Next Top Model marathons and drink tea, but I can't. Although it hasn't been as bad as it could be. Since Alex is not feeling so hot, all she has been wanted to do is cuddle with me... which... never happens. So I welcome it. I just wish it was under better circumstances. We've been watching alot of baby einstein. Going through ALOT of kleenex. Have been on the phone with multiple doctors (begging them to give me a name of at least ONE medicine I can take while nursing...). Violet is helping out as well. Today was the first time that there had been any willing interaction between the two of them on Violet's part. I had Alex on my lap playing with some of her toys, and Violet came over and brought one of her toys for the kid. So sweet. Then I used my mommy magic to captivate them both for a whole ten minutes by turning Alex's vibrating chair on and off. Awesome.

I hope we get better soon. Being sick sucks. Watching your little baby get sick sucks more.

Finally.

Is that you, fall?? Oh, it's been too long.

We had a good day today. It was so gorgeous outside, how could we not? Whenever I can open a window in my house and not start to sweat immediately, it's a good day.

We started with breakfast, which Alex has absolutely no interest in.

She would much rather eat her highchair. Which is ok, I guess.

Then we took advantage of the GREAT weather and headed to the river. The Missouri River, that is. Nothing like Old Town St. Charles. It's probably one of my favorite places in St. Louis. (Fact: St. Charles was the first permanent settlement on the Missouri River. I figure it was settled by people like myself... "Yay! We made it to the Mississippi! There's the arch! Gateway to the West! To the beyond!" ...walk a few miles... "Ya, this is far enough.")

We saw the statue of Lewis and Clark... and their dog. Which Violet barked at the whole time we were next to it.

I'm not exactly sure what this sign is referring to. I think Violet was confused as well.

And this is what happens when you are the only one who understands, "Now everyone look at the camera!"

It was a great day. I was able to find a secluded bench and feed Alex so we could stay there a bit longer. I promptly slammed my elbow into the table, which didn't feel nice. I never thought of nursing in public as an extreme sport, but hey, I drew blood. You try getting a wiggling kid (with teeth) attached to your chest while not exposing bare skin (gasp!) to the public. It takes practice, that's for sure. And for the most part, people tend to give you your space if they realize what you are doing. I've only had one awkward moment so far, which was in the Zoo not too long ago. Alex needed to be fed, and we were there on a weekday, so I grabbed a table in one of the eating areas. There were about 25 tables in the section, and not one of them was occupied when I sat down. As soon as we got started, this young kid who was apparently on his lunch break came and sat DIRECTLY ACROSS FROM ME. He proceeded to eat his lunch and feed the birds and not meet my eyes (which was probably for his own sake, because I'm guessing he would have burned alive if he saw the look I was giving him). Probably... no.... Absolutely one of the most awkward moments in my life.

***

no words.

Tonight, I got a firsthand (ok, well secondhand) glimpse into how awful this world can be. I made a horrible dinner (no, that's not the awful part- that's pretty normal actually), so horrible that we decided to pitch it all and get chinese. Paul was going to pick it up, as Alex was in a foul mood and in no state to travel, no matter how short the drive. When he got back, he came straight down stairs, and the look on his face, I swear I will never forget.
What happened was while he was on his way to get the food, while he was STILL IN OUR SUBDIVISION, in fact- just one street over from our house, he saw two small children walking in the street (no sidewalks here). Paul guessed that they were brother and sister, about 4-5 years old. As he was passing them, he noticed a black truck with an older guy in it slow to stop near them and initiate a conversation with said children. Paul, thinking this was a little sketchy, decided to turn around and ask the man what he was doing. (Which just goes to show, listen to that little inner voice, people) When the man saw Paul turning his car around, he took off. Yep, definitely sketchy. Paul then pulled up to the kids to ask if they knew that man, to which they both replied to the negative. When asked what the man was talking to them about, they said that he wanted to show them something, and something about a 'peepee' and 'butt'. Paul called the police, gave them a full report, and they were at our door in about 5 minutes. Impressive. They will be sweeping the subdivision for the next couple of days. Paul gave them a pretty good description of the guy, plus the first 3 letters of his liscence plate. And since then, he's been on the internet looking up the registered sex offenders in the area. Bless him.

This scares the shit out of me. When I was younger, I could go around the block, down to the store, really anywhere I could get to on a bike without causing too much worry. But even then, it was the worry of me falling off my bike, or getting lost. But now, kids can't even go down their own street without their parents having anxiety attacks because some pervert might pick them up. Scares. The. SHIT. out of me. What sick, sick people.

REALLY?? Did you just DO that??

Recently, I had a salesman come to my house. He was trying to sell a cleaner that supposedly took off anything from anything else. He sprayed the apparent mold I had on my cement (uhhh... I think that's called... dirt). But look! It's clean now! He sprayed my door handle, and oooh, it's pretty now.
Then he said something about how it was safe for the environment.
He sprayed his fingers, and PUT THEM DIRECTLY INTO HIS MOUTH.

Really? You just powerwashed my driveway with that stuff, and now you are eating it??

Should I mention that he did not have his upper four front teeth? Just a minor, unrelated detail I am sure.

my hand is RAW from putting on the SMACKDOWN

I know it's been a few days, but I figured that I would let you know how the wrestling match went.

It was, as promised, awesome. Not only was it officially a date night for Paul and I, which is a rare thing, but it was a date night in a big stadium with lots of pretty lights and things happening. Awesome.

We started the night with a great dinner at a pub downtown. I was able to sample the beer without worrying about it passing on to the little one.


We even got dessert.... which I swear was good. And very pretty. But my stomach acted more quickly than my camera did in this instance...

After dinner, we went straight to the stadium. I was ELATED upon arrival, seeing how many people I was about to 'people watch' allll niiiight looong. Some interesting men and women at these things. I was not disappointed. I was excited to get to my seat so I could just sit back and stare... When we got there, I went in first and immediately struck in the face by a wave of ... 'not-good-smellingness'. As I searched for the source of the smell under and behind my seat, I heard a very loud... what do you call it when someone sucks back a loogey? That noise. I heard that. Right next to my ear. I jumped, turned, and there, sitting in the seat next to me was one of my 'people-watchees'. Classic WWE fan. Not saying that they are all... eccentric. But this guy could have fit in here, a Star Trek convention, and a Dungeon and Dragons marathon so so easily. More power to him for embracing it. But, dude, embrace a shower once in a while.
Sorry. That was harsh.
Anyway, I turned and stared at Paul, who was still searching for the moldy nachos or the decomposing body that was obviously stashed someone near our seats. He caught the look in my eyes, glanced over my shoulder, then grabbed my hand. I was led up the stairs to the standing area, listening to the loogey sound the entire way. We decided that, until the event actually started, we would hang out up here.

After about 20 minutes, the lights started flashing, so we grudgingly made our way back towards our section. We were stopped by an usher who asked if we needed help finding our seats. We said no, and Paul very nicely explained that we had just been waiting to go down because the man we were sitting next to had a 'hygene issue'. Bless his heart for putting it so nicely. Well, this usher, who became our best friend that night, gave a look of... was that pity?!?! He turned, made a motion that we should follow him, and he lead us straight to the little handicapped section on the top... the one that sits right at the top and has the two folding chairs. PERFECT. He said we could hang out there until someone else needed it. We were able to stay there for the whole first show (it ended up being a double show... almost too much for us old fogeys!!). After that, someone who needed the seating area that provided came, so we headed back to our section... low and behold! Our friend stopped us AGAIN! and ushered (he was very good at his job) us to 2 empty CLUB SEATS for the rest of the show. Big old leather club seats. It was awesome.

So the show was great. Very entertaining. The seating was awesome. Multiple viewpoints! The company was tremendous. I would do it again. I guess I can officially call myself a WWE fan. ;)


And... is anyone else an MTV marathon junkie? You know Mike from the Real World (and all of the subsiquient challenges)? Mike. Mike and Coral Mike. The MIZ Mike. Wonder where he went? Yep. He made it to the WWE. Good for him.

6 months old today.

Half a year.

HALF of a YEAR.

HALF OF A FRICKIN YEAR, PEOPLE.

I'm stunned at how quickly these past 6 months have gone. But also stunned because it seems like she's been with us for much more than 6 months. A few lifetimes might be a more appropriate time frame.

People ask if having a child is anything like I had expected it to be. I usually tell them that I didn't know what to expect, so in that respect, no, it's nothing like what was in my head. It's so much better. Yes, I have permanent bags under my eyes. I am usually covered in some type of bodily fluid. I get excited about different things, like Alex having a bowel movement, which she is doing right now (tmi?). Things are different. But this is my normal now. And I love it.

Stats: 13 lbs 11 ounces
25 inches long