For a compulsive blogger such as myself who formerly posted something new (even if it sucked) every single day, this lazy posting schedule I’ve adapted is very guilt-inducing. And kind of horrifying at the same time. But I assure you I do have many, many good excuses. Some are obvious, some are… less so.
- Liam - Like…duh! I should have been more aware the impact a new baby would have on my ability to post or do simple things like brush my teeth. But the fact remains that Liam is accountable for about 90% of my slackage these days. I guess I can’t call it slackage, since I am doing *something* (taking care of him), but the rapidness with which the hours melt away is sort of frightning. As he’s getting older, it’s easier to put him down, both to sleep and during alert time as well. He’s really taking a shine to his Kick n’ Play bouncer seat. It’s his favorite spot to sit in in the evenings. The whole thing lights up and plays music when he kicks and it’s so cute to see his amazement at this. But more often than not, he’ll fall asleep in it within about 10 minutes. Then it’s back to the Pack n’ Play for naptime for him!
- Pumping - Ugh. Yes, still with the pumping. Not so much with the breastfeeding. Though Liam is getting a lot bigger these days. He had his one month appointment on Tuesday and weighs 7 pounds 8 ounces now. This means I need to ramp up the breastfeeding practice. I’ve been very negligent in that area but I’m trying to get in at least one session a day, if not a session each time he’s hungry. Pumping takes a LOT of time. It’s not just the pumping time, but also the time needed to deal with the pumped milk (be it transferring to the fridge, or transferring from fridge to freezer, or transferring from fridge to bottles), the cleaning of the bottles, containers and pump parts… whew! Which reminds me… time to pump again! Be back in a bit…
- Lost Wallet - I’ve returned from my pumping and ready to get on with the list. Alas, it’s a very sad entry; I lost my wallet on Sunday. Entirely stupid on my part. But with my scattered brain these days, is it any wonder? I’ve ditched the purse for the diaper bag in recent weeks so it’s been an adjustment. On Sunday, at the mall, I wanted to use a gift card I had for Keva Juice to get a smoothie for the three of us to share. I left Kile with Liam in the stroller and got the wallet out of the diaper bag while Harry and I went to get the smoothie. We returned, moments later and proceeded to share the smoothie amongst us before moving on to browse a few other stores. Except that I? Had left my wallet on the bench we were sitting on. And I didn’t realize I was missing my wallet for several HOURS. We went back and looked all over for it, left our phone number at mall security and at several stores. But now, four days later, I have to admit that the wallet is long gone. Along with $11 in cash, all my credit cards (including my beloved PayPal card), Harry and I’s social security cards, Harry and I’s insurance cards, my checkbook, my Smith’s grocery discount card, library card, driver’s license, and a good collection of portraits of Harry. AUGH! I’m just sick over it. I’ve never lost a wallet before and it sucks something fierce. (Let’s not ask about how I’m driving around without my license right now.)
- My Desicated Toe - Do you remember me saying something well over a month ago about me hurting my toe? Yeah, I didn’t break it, but I made it awful mad. The nail turned blackish and it seemed to be then a magnet for stubbing it on things. I’d bang it into anything that jumped in my way. So last night, the nail decided enough was enough and started the seperation process.
Ick! I’ve put a bandaid on it because it’s not ALL the way off and it totally freaks me out. And don’t ask what this (and the wallet, for that matter) has to do with me not posting… but there you have it. Oh well, at least the stupid toe doesn’t hurt so much anymore. Leave it to me to bust a perfectly good toenail in the middle of summer.
That’s all. Or at least all I can think of right now. Because Liam is stirring and probably is jonesing for some milk and I’m all distracted and trying to finish this up before he completely wakes up and starts to cry and we all know I just can’t take that. We can only hope that I’ll be able to post again soon (and with pictures) and have something far less lame to talk about.
Eight years ago, I woke up in San Jose, California, in my parents house, in my old bedroom. It was still dark outside; I was the only one awake. I was way too excited to be tired. I had things to do, after all. I took a bath in the tub, using some fantastic smelling bubble bath a good friend of mine had given me. I shaved my legs and forced myself to take my time, to soak and relax. It would be the last relaxing moment I’d have to myself for hours. After the soak, I put on some jean shorts, and a button down short sleeved blouse. Downstairs, I realized I should probably have some juice and a bagel. I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but I didn’t want to be passing out from hunger later on. By then, my father was awake and my mother and sister were stirring. Good thing; we needed to leave the house soon. My dad drove my sister, mother and I to the hair salon in the rental Lincoln Town Car. That felt pretty luxurious. The sky was overcast with fog, a common occurance in the Bay Area during the summer months. The hair salon had just opened, special for us. I already knew what I wanted done with my hair, we’d been in a few weeks prior and had a “dry run” on my hairdo. We had the veil with us, of course, so it could be incorporated.
My tummy started to ache. Nerves. That often happens when I’m over-excited and today was as exciting as anything I’d ever been through. Getting my hair done was a blur. It was a short time later that my sister and I were bundling into the Town Car yet again for the ride to the church. Was the dress in the car? Yes, in the trunk. Had anyone heard from Kile? No, not yet. At the church, we found my friends and I started to get ready with their help. I didn’t realize how much of their help I was going to need to get into that dress, get the stockings attached to the garter belt, applying makeup without spilling any on my dress. We were running behind when the photographer came to see if we were ready. Kile was there and ready for our pictures. My mom hadn’t arrived yet, and she had my pearl necklace that I was going to wear. I was worried about not having the necklace on in my pictures. Luckily, she showed in the nick of time and I had my necklace.? The pictures were done outside of the church, surrounded by greenery and our family and friends.? As soon as I saw Kile, my nerves settled.? Once again, he was my rock.
After the pictures, I was hustled back inside the church.? Guests were starting to arrive and last minute preparations were in full swing.? Right at 11 o’clock am, my father knocked on the door of the room we were waiting in.? It was time.? As we walked around the building to the doors we were going to enter through, the sun peeked out from behind the fog.? Perfect timing.? The rest?? Was a fog in and of itself.? I vaguely recall walking down the aisle.? It was a catholic mass, so I have some recollection of sitting, standing, listening… the ceremony seemed to go on forever.? But I do remember how good it felt when the priest announced, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”? And seeing all the happy faces of our friends and family as they applauded us walking back down the aisle.? Stepping out into the sunshine, I felt as happy as I ever had up until that moment.
Recovering from BlogHer is apparently more daunting than I had first thought.? Though I can hardly blame adorable little Liam.? We’re not up at night near as much as we would be with most babies.? But Liam is Special.? In fact, Wednesday night he slept from 11 until 4 in the morning!? And then through from there until 7:30, when I woke up ON MY OWN.? That is, without the sound of grunting and/or crying to wake me.? Do you have any idea how delicious that is??
