I'm still kickin'

Time sure flies when you're avoiding Blogger. Life's been busy. Good busy. And I have some big news.






I got knocked up again.





What? Yes, that's correct. We're expecting another monster. I haven't gotten into the OB, yet because I'm only about 8-9 weeks along. The nausea has started to subside and I can actually stomach a little bit of coffee every once in a while. From about week 3-4 until a few days ago, I've had all-day, gross nausea. No puking, though. Amen.

I'll pop in a bit more now that life is starting to get a bit more normal. I've got tons of pictures of the kid and I'll pop some pictures of my fabulous, new Christmas tree in here, too.

Ooooh. Riveting stuff.

Special Guest Blogger

This blog entry brought to you by the man of the house, John:


We're a coffee kind of a house. It's not odd for the coffee maker to be bubbling away at least three times a day.

We're wannabe connoisseurs too. I actually ground my own beans for a while, before we figured it wasn't worth it. It smells great, and is always fresh, but one-handed, with the baby, was just too tough.

One time, I even looked at a website that taught you how to make your own blends and roast your own beans, but it never went further then that. At that point, I think I'll hit the Starbucks.

But today we hit an odd, ingenious and pathetic low. We used a Swiffer for a filter. It wasn't our first choice. The usual hierarchy of filters goes: cone coffee filter, basket coffee filter from the old machine that doesn't fit, paper towel, and lastly, paper napkin. As fate would have it, we had none of the above.

It's funny how life doesn't give you what you want, but gives you what you need. As I'm debating with myself about whether the grounds might sneak through the perfs in toilet paper, my eyes fall on the Swiffer. A quick run to the tap shows good water flow, excellent wet strength, and just an imperceptible amount of initial linting. Fabulous.

Ghetto fabulous.

And as I sit here enjoying my rather delicious cup of coffee, I realize that a Swiffer pad costs about 20 times as much as an actual coffee filter. And the realization that it actually costs more to look this degenerately deprived seems sadly ironic. Like paying half a mill for a double wide. And buying dents as an option.

Vanity Fair

I'm not a big fan of people that pose their kids into little themes for the sake of a not-so-funny-to-everyone-else picture.

Apparently, I don't have to do that with this child. This is exactly how I found him next to a stack of magazines in my office:

What can I say? The kid loves his Fair.

Waaaahhhhh

I'm recovering from a helluva chest cold/head cold/deathwish that I've had all week. It started on Tuesday with me wondering why the kiddo was so sick and then realizing that I was just as sick as he was. To top it all off, while I was Swiffering the baseboards in the dining room, I ended up getting the worst back strain evah! Evah, evah. Seriously, I'm walking around like I have some kind of stunted spinal injury problem. I can't stand up straight and it hurts to do anything but sit in a fetal position. Gah.

I've also been drinking tea with sugar. Sugar! Whenever I get sick, I eat a whole bunch of carby shit and it just goes straight to my head. I just can't do starches, man. Whenever I give in to the sinful goodness of the white stuff, I cannot stop. Seriously, CANNOT. Crazy.

What else is new....... doing a weightloss thing at the gym with another trainer because, yes, I still have about 30 pounds to go until I'm at pre-baby marathon weight. A weight that was still about 30 pounds heavier than my perceived ideal. But hell, at this point, I'd be THRILLED to be there.

The one thing that NO ONE told me about having a baby was that there was a possibility that I might not lose the weight. I want to find each and every person who said that losing the weight would be easy with breastfeeding (HA-if only I *could* have breastfed, you awful, wretched beyotches). It's enough to make a girl go insane. I watch those makeover shows sometimes---you know, the ones where the chicks are all beat-up looking right after coming out of surgery---and I used to laugh at how stupid they were for taking the 'easy way out' and having someone cut off their fat or sculpt their jaw. In some way, I still feel that way, but let's just say that there's a teeny, tiny part of me that's envious when I see the final 'after'.

The work to get this eat-all-you-want-while-you're-pregnant fat off is INSANE. And I'm super-pissed that more people (or ANY people, for that matter) didn't tell me while I ate JARS of peanut butter at my office desk every day.

I still remember lapping up ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery while I was large and in charge and telling John about how I'd heard that you lose the weight within 6 weeks and not to worry. Where did I get that shit? Where?

Better go to bed so I can get up early and drag myself out for a walk/jog....

It's been a long time, I shouldn'tna left you...

...without a dope beat to step to.

So, I'm willing to bet that I now have ZERO readers. I've been working my ASS off with HateMail Greetings. I have quite a few brick-n-mortar shops carrying the cards and I'm marketing like hell to spread the love/hate. So, any support that anyone can offer is riduculously appreciated.

Mama's Day

So.... it's gonna be my first 'real' Mother's Day this Sunday. I don't know how to feel about that. On one hand, I want a huge to-do.... breakfast in bed, massage, chauffering around town, y'know, typical Mother's Day fare. On the other hand, the kid's only 8.5 months old and I don't think he's quite mastered the stove or the toaster.


I'm not sure if John has plans or not. A couple weeks ago he asked me if I wanted anything and in a moment of weakness I stupidly replied, "Oh, just more time with you would be awesome."

{banging head on my desk}

I don't think he took me seriously because it looks like he wants to spend the day at HIS mom's working in her garden.



Good times.



So, in preparation for receiving nothing, I bought myself this:

It's from Etsy and the designer is SandySimone. It came all packaged in a nice, little wax-stamped box. I'll wear it proudly on Sunday.

Killing Me Softly

The babe is not sleeping at night. I'm tired.

Last night was Friday night---this means that it's John's night to wrangle the midnight demon should he arise. Baby woke once around 3-something...maybe earlier... and proceeded to wail. I was particularly concerned because he's been fighting a fever for a day or two due to teething and I've been trying to keep a close eye on it. I heard John get up, say a few soothing words, take a temp and then mumble something about 'we're not bringing him back into bed with us anymore so I guess we should let him cry it out'. John prompty began snoring. The baby continued his pleading. I laid there for a few minutes trying to remember what all books say regarding this situation. Do I check on him every couple minutes and then leave it alone? Do I pick him up and rock him? Do I ignore him all together?

The problem with my monster is that if you go in to try that whole, 'give him some reassuring words and leave with progressively longer gaps in between' game, he knows he's winning. His shreik will hit monumental levels when you 'reassure' him and when you leave, you'd think someone or something was ripping off each and every one of his toes.

I fell into his trap.

I went in, rubbed his little sweaty head (from crying, not fever) and shhhh'ed him. Nothing. I held his little fingers. Nothing. I snuggled the sleep sheep next to his face so he'd think is was me (ummm, nice try,dumbass). Nothing. So I did what any tired, new mommy with no backbone at three-o-clock in the morning would do. I picked up Mr. SwollenEyes and brought him to the couch with me for some slumber, albeit shitty. He just thrust his tiny fingers into my hair, twirled it for a minute or two and was snoring. The little bugger WON!

So, I sit here, at 9:00p with my second cup of coffee trying to stay awake. John went out for a while with his friends (I was invited, too, but declined the invite due to lack of sitter-age. Besides, I wanted him to have fun with 'his' friends and get a chance to really hang with them. I've been so busy with work lately, it's nice to just be home for once) and this is my first night alone with the bebe since he was a week old. We had a bit of a tussle after his bath when he didn't want to go down for the night, but I stuck it out and I'm proud to say I won that battle. For now.

But I gotta say, that crying really does tear a little hole in my heart. Does it ever get easier? Will he ever sleep all night? Will I ever be a size two? Oh, sorry.....

On that note... I'm starting another BFL challenge tomorrow. Totally vanilla. I'm doing it to get ready for a prospective vacation in August and on Jack's one year birthday, I'd like to be something of a spectacle, thankyouverymuch. Still deciding on whether I want to submit photos and the official package. I suppose it wouldn't hurt, right? I could use a million or so bucks.