This one, from Chip:
I've never seen poo come shooting out of someone's bum before.
Monday, March 31, 2008
observations
I realize that I'm in the doghouse with a few of you... it wasn't so much that I even realized I was drowning. Do you know how that is? (But thank you for being so sweet... really!)
They say that babies go through growth spurts. Growth spurts at 3 weeks, at 6 weeks, at 3 months, at 6 months - you get the idea. These periods of growth mean almost round-the-clock feedings which translate to round-the-clock wakefulness. Chip has been amazing, but with his work schedule it can be hard for him to help out at 2am. Mom and I spoke on the phone a lot in the early morning and my lack of sleep was more than obvious, I guess. She bought a plane ticket soon after. I know that I'm not good at asking for help. Sometimes it's a case of not knowing that you need help, is what I'm saying. Chip reminded me recently that this whole growth spurt thing isn't just for the baby - and maybe I've grown up a bit in the last 4 weeks as well.
With all of these late night feedings, I've been watching an embarassing amount of television (when you're breast feeding at 2am, there isn't much you can do to stay awake other than watch TV).
Without any further delay, I had to share a few observations with y'all.
Sleep Number Beds:
Who in their right mind chooses LINDSAY WAGNER as their spokeperson when they are trying to sell beds that promote a GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP? The poor woman is ...hammered. And that's putting it lightly. If this is the image of someone who has been using a Sleep Number bed for any length of time, it's the last mattress I want to use. Somehow I imagine that the bed is actually making her AGE before our very eyes.
Paula Abdul and American Idol:
We've developed Paula Speak when it is her turn to offer her opinion. It goes something like this: Your voice is like angel wings that glitter and make me feel like I'm going to float into a wave of rainbows up in the sky. The woman is... very loopy. She makes my brain hurt a little bit.
What is up with all the male enhancement commercials?
Sci-Fi Channel Made-For TV Movies:
The Sci-Fi channel goes through a series of movie types. It goes something like this: super natural disasters (10.5 APOLCOLYSE anyone?); aliens; bugs as invading force; men turning into giant bugs (MANSQUITO has to be my favorite); vampires; and giant snakes. I don't exatly know where ROCK MONSTER fits into this model. Any ideas?
Your turn. I want to hear random TV observations from you guys.
They say that babies go through growth spurts. Growth spurts at 3 weeks, at 6 weeks, at 3 months, at 6 months - you get the idea. These periods of growth mean almost round-the-clock feedings which translate to round-the-clock wakefulness. Chip has been amazing, but with his work schedule it can be hard for him to help out at 2am. Mom and I spoke on the phone a lot in the early morning and my lack of sleep was more than obvious, I guess. She bought a plane ticket soon after. I know that I'm not good at asking for help. Sometimes it's a case of not knowing that you need help, is what I'm saying. Chip reminded me recently that this whole growth spurt thing isn't just for the baby - and maybe I've grown up a bit in the last 4 weeks as well.
With all of these late night feedings, I've been watching an embarassing amount of television (when you're breast feeding at 2am, there isn't much you can do to stay awake other than watch TV).
Without any further delay, I had to share a few observations with y'all.
Sleep Number Beds:
Who in their right mind chooses LINDSAY WAGNER as their spokeperson when they are trying to sell beds that promote a GOOD NIGHT'S SLEEP? The poor woman is ...hammered. And that's putting it lightly. If this is the image of someone who has been using a Sleep Number bed for any length of time, it's the last mattress I want to use. Somehow I imagine that the bed is actually making her AGE before our very eyes.
Paula Abdul and American Idol:
We've developed Paula Speak when it is her turn to offer her opinion. It goes something like this: Your voice is like angel wings that glitter and make me feel like I'm going to float into a wave of rainbows up in the sky. The woman is... very loopy. She makes my brain hurt a little bit.
What is up with all the male enhancement commercials?
Sci-Fi Channel Made-For TV Movies:
The Sci-Fi channel goes through a series of movie types. It goes something like this: super natural disasters (10.5 APOLCOLYSE anyone?); aliens; bugs as invading force; men turning into giant bugs (MANSQUITO has to be my favorite); vampires; and giant snakes. I don't exatly know where ROCK MONSTER fits into this model. Any ideas?
Your turn. I want to hear random TV observations from you guys.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
rescue party
Mom flew back up here on Tuesday after my pathetic phonecalls indicated an embarassing lack of sleep. She's been here all week and is leaving tomorrow. We will miss her immensely.
Good news is that I will return to life at The Creamery.
Good news is that I will return to life at The Creamery.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
starfish hands
Her skin is almost translucent. She smells like milk and flowers. Her eyelids glisten like they've been highlighted by the tiniest bit of Vaseline. She spreads her toes and presses her feet against my mouth, making little grunty noises. Her ears are miniature versions of Chip's ears. She has thin little bird legs. Her lips are the color of the duskiest pink rose. She sticks her tongue out all the time. She sleeps with her hands raised high over her head. She has a tiny red birth mark on her lower back. It's a wonder to watch her breathe, to feel her starfish hand on my arm as I feed her.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
a report from the field
What I'm about to say shouldn't be taken for a gauge of where I'm at exactly, more along the lines of pieces of me - and the camp these pieces are visiting on occasion.
It's hard to get back into the swing of life. I don't even know what LIFE is these days. I live in a state of constant reflex - reacting to Alice's cries and snuffles, attempting to get myself showered and dressed on a semi-regular basis. The halls here at home are never as warm and welcoming as they are the second Chip walks in the door, and around 11am when the sun is shining and I can open the curtains to let in the light. I live for these minutes and for the moments when Alice seems to look at me with true recognition in her tiny face. LIFE is a rolling ball of moments swirling in a blur of reds and yellows and blues and grays. Sleep isn't something to be taken lightly. It comes in tiny snatches: a nap sandwiched between feeding Alice and doing a load of laundry; in the witching hour at 2:30 a.m. when I seem to be the only person on the planet; in the pre-dawn of 4:00 a.m. watching dew collect on the windowsill. I'm working on getting out more. It isn't easy. Everything takes so much longer than it used to. I can't just run out of the house. There is a bag to be packed, a baby to be fed, a nap to be interrupted, a mommy to dress. K called me today (yes, the same K from our labor and birth class - we've actually become good friends, bonding over the sheer terror of first-time motherhood) to share her Tuesday thought, which was: what's the point of bathing the baby when she poops and pees all over herself fresh out of the bath and even after clean-up is already covered in milk and spit-up an hour later?
I know that these are the early impressions. The things we live through to get to the next stage: smiling and sitting up and solid foods and teething and preschool and and and... Every single mother I've talked to about all of this says the same thing: it doesn't last forever; hang in there; you will get a system down; things will be easier. And I know they're right. I know it will get better. And it already has. We're getting out more. We went to Babies R Us today and survived to tell the tale. I'm finding that a two hour stretch of sleep actually feels luxurious. I live for her snorfles and hiccups and sighs. One smell of her milky skin is worth every sleepless minute. I adore this tiny girl and everything she promises to be.
Just the same, I think it's important to put everything down. To report what the pieces of me are finding, even in the dark corners.
Being a mother can be incredibly lonely.
It's hard to get back into the swing of life. I don't even know what LIFE is these days. I live in a state of constant reflex - reacting to Alice's cries and snuffles, attempting to get myself showered and dressed on a semi-regular basis. The halls here at home are never as warm and welcoming as they are the second Chip walks in the door, and around 11am when the sun is shining and I can open the curtains to let in the light. I live for these minutes and for the moments when Alice seems to look at me with true recognition in her tiny face. LIFE is a rolling ball of moments swirling in a blur of reds and yellows and blues and grays. Sleep isn't something to be taken lightly. It comes in tiny snatches: a nap sandwiched between feeding Alice and doing a load of laundry; in the witching hour at 2:30 a.m. when I seem to be the only person on the planet; in the pre-dawn of 4:00 a.m. watching dew collect on the windowsill. I'm working on getting out more. It isn't easy. Everything takes so much longer than it used to. I can't just run out of the house. There is a bag to be packed, a baby to be fed, a nap to be interrupted, a mommy to dress. K called me today (yes, the same K from our labor and birth class - we've actually become good friends, bonding over the sheer terror of first-time motherhood) to share her Tuesday thought, which was: what's the point of bathing the baby when she poops and pees all over herself fresh out of the bath and even after clean-up is already covered in milk and spit-up an hour later?
I know that these are the early impressions. The things we live through to get to the next stage: smiling and sitting up and solid foods and teething and preschool and and and... Every single mother I've talked to about all of this says the same thing: it doesn't last forever; hang in there; you will get a system down; things will be easier. And I know they're right. I know it will get better. And it already has. We're getting out more. We went to Babies R Us today and survived to tell the tale. I'm finding that a two hour stretch of sleep actually feels luxurious. I live for her snorfles and hiccups and sighs. One smell of her milky skin is worth every sleepless minute. I adore this tiny girl and everything she promises to be.
Just the same, I think it's important to put everything down. To report what the pieces of me are finding, even in the dark corners.
Being a mother can be incredibly lonely.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
the first two weeks
Once upon a time there lived a girl named Whimsy who met the creamiest boy ever to roam the planet - and he was yummy like chocolate milk and they decided that they would build a little creamy palace together. And so they did. And their life together was blissful and funny and sometimes full of the types of peril that makes a person grow. One day they looked at each other and said, Maybe it's time. Their little home that had felt so full seemed to need Someone Else. So Whimsy and the Creamiest Boy started on a Project to create the Creamiest Baby. And time passed. It wasn't the easiest nine months. There were some very sad times, and also some very happy times. And finally after nine months of waiting and wishing and dreaming of the little creamy baby they had come to call the Bean, it was time for Whimsy and the Creamiest Boy to meet Alice Faye. It was absolute love at first sight. And even though there were days in the beginning when Whimsy felt that she couldn't possibly have the capacity to care for little Alice, there were amazing and gifted friends and family who told her YES YOU CAN. And Alice proved to be the absolute BEST BABY ON THE PLANET. After a couple of weeks, Whimsy realized that she and Alice were going to make it just fine. And the little creamy palace sighed the kind of sigh you make after you've eaten a very large and yummy piece of buttery vanilla cake because it was full to the rafters with love.
And the Creamiest Boy is really the Best Husband in the World, without question.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
gone fishin?
So it would appear that I have been... absent? It's kind of a crazy assumption to think that you all have been checking back here to see what's up with Whimsy - but I do hope you have, and I'm very sorry that it's taken me this long to post.
Thank you so much for all the emails of support and congratulations. I'm very happy to report that we're doing well. My mom and dad left this morning after a week of very helpful (and needed) support. So Chip and I are doing this thing ourselves now, with Alice's help, of course. To keep you interested, I owe you the following (and this is the type of IOU that I'm going to honor, darn it):
- Bean's birth story (including highlights of not one but TWO spinal blocks because the first one didn't take, Chip tricked out in white paper jumpsuit pajamas and blue shoe covers -very sexy-, and Alice's amazing appearance in the OR)
- The two hour feeding schedule we're on to get Alice to gain some weight already (6 pounds is TINY, yo)
- Our new found fear of GIGANTOR BABIES
- The bottle of prune juice that has been residing in our fridge for the past week (helpful, but that's it)
- Alice's helpful induction of Chip into the land of baby poo and pee (he has successfully completed five diapers to date, including some fairly heinous specimens - and yes, he has indeed gotten poo material on his person and he has lived to tell the tale)
- How amazing and wonderful it is to be a mother
There's more, plenty more. They tell me the crying is normal... I think I've only gone through one box of kleenex today (thanks to Emily for giving me four more boxes). I've never been so happy on so little sleep.
Do babies heads always smell that good?
Thank you so much for all the emails of support and congratulations. I'm very happy to report that we're doing well. My mom and dad left this morning after a week of very helpful (and needed) support. So Chip and I are doing this thing ourselves now, with Alice's help, of course. To keep you interested, I owe you the following (and this is the type of IOU that I'm going to honor, darn it):
- Bean's birth story (including highlights of not one but TWO spinal blocks because the first one didn't take, Chip tricked out in white paper jumpsuit pajamas and blue shoe covers -very sexy-, and Alice's amazing appearance in the OR)
- The two hour feeding schedule we're on to get Alice to gain some weight already (6 pounds is TINY, yo)
- Our new found fear of GIGANTOR BABIES
- The bottle of prune juice that has been residing in our fridge for the past week (helpful, but that's it)
- Alice's helpful induction of Chip into the land of baby poo and pee (he has successfully completed five diapers to date, including some fairly heinous specimens - and yes, he has indeed gotten poo material on his person and he has lived to tell the tale)
- How amazing and wonderful it is to be a mother
There's more, plenty more. They tell me the crying is normal... I think I've only gone through one box of kleenex today (thanks to Emily for giving me four more boxes). I've never been so happy on so little sleep.
Do babies heads always smell that good?
Monday, March 3, 2008
Bean Burrito
(Hey compadres, this is Chip)
Announcing the arrival of Alice Faye. She made her appearance this morning at 8:43am weighing in at 6 lbs 12 ounces, measuring 19 inches. Mommy is recovering well, daddy's heartbeat skipped a few times, and Bean graduated to Alice, though she will always be a bean in our hearts.
Love and Hope
Chip, Whimsy & Alice Faye!
Sunday, March 2, 2008
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