Summer 2011 Bucket List

Today marks the first day of my summer vacation!  This is our first summer with Madeline.  I'm sooo looking forward to it.

Here's a short list of things I plan on doing.

1.) One picnic a week
2.) Go berry picking
3.) Make at least three different flavors of ice cream.
4.) Make a pie
5.) Take Madeline swimming for the first time
6.) Build a sandcastle
7.) Read a non-work related book
8.) See a concert
9.) Buy a house
10.) De clutter our current house
11.) Frequent a farmers' market
12.) Eat Lobster
13.) Eat steamers
14.) Take Madeline on the train
15.) Ride the swan boats
16.) Bring Madeline to Central Park
17.) Go to Vermont
18.) Go to Montaulk
19.) See Harry Potter!
20.) Go outlet shopping
21.) Girl trip
22.) Mini road trip
23.) Cut my hair
24.) Go kayaking
25.) Plan Madeline's first birthday
26.) Ride the trolley
27.) Finish at least one of the arts and crafts projects that I've started
28.) Lose five pounds
29.) Give Madeline her first taste of ice cream
30.) Get a pedicure (Damn my feet are gross!)
31.) Bring Madeline to a parade
32.) Bring Madeline to see fireworks

Here's to a fabulous summer.  Let the fun begin!
(I may add to this list as other ideas pop up.)

Lessons in Bad Parenting Volume One

How to be a Bad Parent Lesson One: Forgetting Your Child at Daycare.  

Yup, that's right, Eric and I forgot to pick Madeline up from school today.  We totally suck.

To be fair, we didn't really forget her.  We had a misunderstanding.  I thought Eric was picking her up, and he thought I was picking her up.

When I walked in the door this afternoon,  Madeline was not in the jumper-roo, she was not on her play mat, she was not sitting with Eric...where he lay napping on the couch....  Wait a second.  My brain stalled.  Something was not quite right.  

"Uh, did you get the baby?" I asked from the doorway.

Eric leaped up with a start and looked at me with slight panic in his eyes.  "Uh, no. Did you?" 

There was a moment of silence between us. Eric stared at me the way one stares at a very hungry lion, clearly worried that I was about to bite his head off.  

"OMIGOD!  We forgot Maddie at daycare?!?  We're the worst parents in the world!!!"  I screeched.

We grabbed the keys and were back out the door in less than two seconds.   "I can't believe we forgot her.  Poor baby!" I kept repeating.  Scenes from Little Orphan Annie, Oliver, and Tarzan played in my mind.  Would no one adopt her because of her red hair?  Would she have to turn to a life of crime?  Would she be raised by a pack of Chimps?

Eric corrected me.  Again, we hadn't forgotten her at daycare.  We both knew where she was after all.  

When we showed up shortly after five, Madeline was the second to last baby in the building, and she was sleeping like an angel in her crib.  The teacher explained that they had tried to keep her awake for us since we were usually there by 3, but she just couldn't keep her eyes open.  Worrying that her parents had abandoned her and that she'd have to earn her keep by scrubbing the floors must have tuckered the poor baby clean out.  (It's a hard knock life, for us!)      

"Sorry," Eric quickly lied, "We got caught up in house stuff.  Buying a house sure does take up a lot of time..."

I guess neither one of us wanted to explain that in reality we are the worst parents in the world.

"Oh by the way," the teacher started, "Do you mind filling out this incident report?  One of Madeline's little friends decided to bite her on the ear today."

Wow.  We had forgotten our baby, and she had her ear bitten??  Her life clearly was turning into a Dickens novel.  Not a good day for the Maddie Bear.  To add insult to injury, it was the ear already scarred from the cat.

Eric and I kept Madeline up an hour later tonight so that we could shower her with love and affection to ease our guilt.

Luckily, she's too young to remember this.

We're the worst.

"Please, sir, can I have some more?"

The Random Thoughts of a Cranky Pants

1. Even though I am not carrying a bowling ball around in my uterus this summer, heat still makes me cranky.  It makes Madeline cranky too.

2. Madeline is wide awake and yelling in her crib right now, and Eric has been out of the house every night this week.  I'll be right back...

3. What's with those baby hairs on the back of your leg that never. go. away?!?  I passed a razor up and down my leg about twenty million times this morning, and they are STILL there.

4. We had more severe weather this afternoon.  (There were tornadoes on the other side of the state last week.  We do not get tornadoes in Massachusetts very often.  Blizzards? Yes.)  This time, I decided to move my storm shelter from our bathroom to our laundry room because, in the laundry room, at least there are snacks. And by snacks, I mean a bottle of apple juice and some cans of beans.  We had some lightning and wind for about ten minutes.  Storm shelter remains unused!  

5.  From now on I'm going to mash bananas in everything Madeline eats.  If it has a banana in it, she will eat it.  Then she will not poop for five days in a row, but at least she's eating.

6.  One, grown men should not be riding on clown-sized bicycles. (Unless you actually are a clown, which he was not.)  Two,  he should certainly not be riding on a clown-sized bicycle without breaks through downtown during rush hour.  Third,  he should not shoot me dirty looks and then hop a fence(?) whilst carrying his bicycle.  Four, it's time to move to the suburbs.

7. I just spent the last twenty minutes in Madeline's room listening to her rant on about what I assume were her thoughts on how to fix the economy.  I'm not fluent in Maddie Bear yet.  I try not to engage my daughter in conversation before bedtime, but it's so hard not to want to play with her when she smiles up at me and tugs my hand closer to her belly.  Good Lord, my baby is cuu-ute.

8. I think the movie White Men Can't Jump is making a comeback because I've had several separate students bring it up in the past week.  I had one student ask me if it was true.

9.  My overly cute baby is still crying overly loud.  La sigh.

P.S. They reset the numbers over at Top Baby Blogs today.  I made it all the way up to 53 and I was psyched!  Please give us a vote if you enjoy us.  Maybe we can make it to the top page for two minutes before all the popular blogs start getting votes :)

Pin Happy

Meet my newest obsession...

Pinterest

It's my new favorite thing. (Besides my child, obviously.)

It's perfect for someone like me who sees something I love on a random blog I've stumbled across, and then am never able to find it again.

Also, I didn't realize how deep my obsession with all things blue and yellow was until I started adding things to my boards and realized EVERYTHING is blue or yellow.

Fun, fun, fun.  

Have a pin-happy long weekend!

Twinsies

 Can we discuss how we wore the same exact outfit today?

I love how Maddie's face already seems to scream, "OMG, I can't believe I'm dressed like my mother..." Yup, we're only one step away from appearing in a JC Penny Catalog.

For the record, Eric was the one who found Madeline's shirt and insisted it was hilarious that it matched mine. (We have matching denim jackets too.)    

For the second record, I notice that there have been a lot of pictures of me wearing this shirt on the blog recently.  There are not twenty pairs of identical blue checkered shirts hanging neatly in my closet...I swear.  I own many shirts.  Shirts that I wear on regular basis.  I promise.  Pinkie swear.

The Good and The Bad

The Good:

Due to a power outage in the building, we got released from work early today!  This was much better than leaving early due to a snow emergency because a.) it was a complete and total surprise! and b.) I didn't have to stress over driving home in a blizzard...in heels...because I'm usually too stupid to wear boots when it snows.  

Eric offered to pick up the baby at the regular time, so I had the afternoon free.  I had a delicious lunch, did the grocery shopping for the week, did some laundry, and made two batches of baby food.    

All in all, a successful day for the Momma Bear.  

The Bad:  

While I was busy having a pretty good day, Maddie Bear was having a no-good, very bad, terrible day.  They called me from daycare late in the afternoon to tell me that she had a slight fever.  

The poor girl looked MISerable this afternoon.  Imagine the saddest face you have ever seen.  Are you picturing it???  Now magnify that by a bagillion.  That's how sad she looked. I was getting teary eyed just watching her.  

Plus, she had an early intervention meeting scheduled at school today.  She usually likes her meetings because she basically just plays with toys for an hour, but from the looks of her the afternoon, she was not in the mood for putting on a pony show.  

The Good:  

When Maddie gets sick, all she wants to do is snuggle with me.  It makes me feel all squishy inside.    

The Bad:  

The poor girl's poops are rock. solid.  Ouch.  (Also, bad news?  I just shared that information with the entire Internets.  She'll thank me for that some day.  I also caught some epic grunting on video this afternoon....Haha, leverage!)  

The Good:  

Eric and I had a yummy dinner tonight!  He caught me a delicious bass.    

The Bad:  

If Maddie's still sick in the morning, one of us will have to stay home with her.  Usually that would be not so bad, but it will probably have to be Eric, which will make me jealous and sad, and make him frustrated.   

The Good:  

Even when she's miserable, Madeline still manages to smile for us.  We're so lucky to have been given the BEST baby in the entire universe.  

That's papaya on her chin, not boogies.  Just in case.  

  

Gold Star for Amy!

***Amy found my lost blog for me!***

There was a time, before God invented the printing press and the Internet, where people learned how to raise a child through word of mouth.

I imagine it sounded something like this:

Neighbor: "Little Heinrich!  He is crawling already!?"  

Mother:  *Clicking Tongue* "Of course!  Only babies who have been spat on by witches don't crawl!"  

Neighbor:  "That's true.  I once had a nephew who was spat on by a witch, and sure enough, he did not crawl..."   

Mother: *Gasp* "How terrible for your family!  What did they do?" 

Neighbor:  *Shrugging knowingly* "What else could they do?  They tied some garlic around his neck and left him in the garden next to the turnips for three days!"  

Mother: "Ah yes, that's very good.  Garlic and turnips do it every time!"  

Neighbor:  "Yes, but it must be for three full days.  Two will not work.  I tell you, my nephew was helping his father in the fields within a week!"      

These days there are actual "doctors" who write books telling mothers what they should expect from their babies at every age.

I have five of them.  Not one, not even two...five.  Granted, one was published in 1968.  

When Madeline was a newborn, I poured over them, excited to find out what she'd be doing at four months, nine months, a year!

Around four months, what the books said Madeline should be able to do, and what Madeline could actually do, stopped matching up.  That made me start to panic.  So, I did what any logical mother would do.  I put the books away and pretended they didn't exist.

Lately, I've been feeling confident about Madeline's abilities!  She's learning so much!  So, last night, I dug out the books for curiosity's sake.  Dumb. Idea.

Actual line taken from one of my baby books: (Note:  This is not an actual line from one of my baby books.)

"If your child is not performing quadratic equations by the time he is six months old, your baby may in fact be a loaf of bread.  If you suspect your baby to be a loaf of bread, get to your local bakery as soon as possible for an expert opinion.  If you don't have a local bakery, use to the following diagram."  

 Luckily, another one of my books is quick to remind its readers that every baby is different:

"Remember, this is only a guideline.  Every baby is different and develops at her own pace.  Many 'late bloomers' go on to have excellent careers pouring beer at Hooters.  With luck, someday your baby will too!"

In desperation, I turned to my baby book.  The one my mom kept and took notes in when I was a baby.  I figured in 1968 all the martinis and second-hand smoke the babies were ingesting during cocktail hour may have slowed down any developmental expectations.

Not so.

"If your baby is not crawling by eight months, it's because you have been paying too much attention to her.  If you want to avoid your child growing up to become a homosexual or a communist, I suggest you leave your baby alone in a room for long periods of time.  Once you make your baby feel that she is unloved and abandoned, she will crawl."  

(Okay, okay, so it didn't say the part about homosexuals and communists.)

While the new books make me panic that my child has some physical or mental defect, the old book makes me think that I'm simply a bad parent for spending too much time with my daughter.

Moral to the story:  Stop reading baby books, Summer.  

My Favorite People

My birthday/ Mother's Day weekend was pretty awesome because I got to see almost all of my favorite people.

First, Eric took me out to dinner on Friday night to celebrate the fact that I'm almost as old as he is now.  I ate the entire restaurant.  No lie.

We were home by 9:30, and I told Eric that the best birthday present would be for him to just let me sleep.  By ten, I was in dreamland.  That's how I know I am now officially old.  I celebrated my 30th birthday by sleeping!

He extended the present into Sunday morning by getting up with the Maddie Bear while I slept in....till 6.

On Saturday, I had a girl date with Amy.  This was awesome because I feel like I never have time for girl dates anymore.   We saw a ridiculously wonderful chick movie...I was so excited!  She brought me a birthday hat and a hostess cupcake to celebrate!  That way, everyone in the theater knew it was my birthday.  Pretty rad.  After the movie, we went out to eat.  I ate the entire restaurant.

THEN, even more awesomeness!  My good friend Sarah was back in town for the weekend, so she came over on Saturday night.  I told Eric to beat it, and because he's the best boyfriend in the world, he obliged and found a bar downtown to watch the Celtics game so that I could enjoy even more girl time.
(There's so much estrogen in my body right now that I think my ovaries are square dancing!)

Eric let me sleep in again on Sunday, and this time, I slept till 8:30.  Ama-zing!

My parents came over for a late breakfast to celebrate Mother's Day.  I cooked without any major disasters, which is reason enough to celebrate.  They also brought champagne, so we got to drink Mimosas!  Good. idea. parents!

 The rest of the day was spent cuddling with Madeline, taking a walk in the nice weather, and napping on the couch.

It was such a fantastic weekend, that if I close my eyes and try reallllll hard, I can almost forget that Mondays exist.

Happy Mother's Day

Today was my first Mother's Day!

Some cards were homemade...

Like this one that Madeline "made" in daycare.  I die!

 Some were heartwarming...

Like this one from my mother  

And others made me just plain laugh...

Like this one from Amy of Everyday A

Thanks for making my first Mother's Day special!  


Happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful mother's out there!  
(Especially to my mother, Nanny, Eric's mother, Hollie, and Dawn.)

Money Maker

I've been thinking that I could turn Madeline's drooling problem into a lucrative new business.

What if I could sell baby drool as an anti-aging face cream??  

Before you recoil in disgust, consider:  

People are willing to do just about anything to appear younger than they actually are. I mean, come on, people are willing to cut up their faces, inject chemicals into their faces, and transplant ass fat into their faces.  Surely, in comparison, baby drool is nothing.  

Also, because babies are quite youthful, (they are babies, after all) I think I could market their drool as containing youth-creating enzymes guaranteed to make the toughest skin as smooth as a baby's bottom.  The fountain of youth in a bottle!    

Also, because this drool skin cream is created by real babies in their natural habitats, I could market it as being environmentally friendly, which is like, soooo in right now.  I could even have a special line of drool skin cream from exclusively breast-fed babies because that drool skin cream would be organic.     

Also, because each baby only drools creates youth-enhancing skin cream for a limited amount of time, that means that I could probably jack up the prices really high.  And if something is expensive, it must be good...right?  All the real housewives of (insert real city) will be lining up around the block for this stuff!  

All I have to do is get one of those bibs with the scoop at the bottom to collect all of baby's messes. If I put it on Madeline first thing in the morning, and let the drool skin cream pool up in it throughout the afternoon, I bet I'd have at least a pint of drool skin cream by the time she goes to bed.  (I won't collect drool skin cream from her during the night....poor girl deserves a break after all.  Besides, she doesn't drool produce much youth-enhancing skin cream at night.)  Since she's now teething, I might even have a gallon.  

Guys?  I'm. Going. To. Be. RICH!  

The only thing missing is a good name. Hmmm, what's a nicer way of saying, "Slather my baby's drool on your face so I can retire early?"    

Before use of Slather My Baby's Drool on Your Face so I Can Retire Early

AND

After use of Slather My Baby's Drool on Your Face so I Can Retire Early

See, having Madeline slobber on my face has done wonders for my skin!

Maddie's First...

...Easter!  

We were quite curious to see what Madeline's reaction to an adult-sized white bunny rabbit would be, but as usual, she was completely unfazed.  She grabbed his hand, pet his nose, and pulled his fur.  She was not shy or scared at all.  (It's clearly because she has the social skills of a ten-month old!)  

Maddie, Katie Belle, and my brother-in-law, Chef Martin

 On our way out for Easter brunch, I hid our Easter eggs along the sidewalk to the parking lot.  I stuck them in lamp posts, under benches, in holes in the walls, and underneath daffodil petals.  Eric pretended he didn't know me.  When we got home from breakfast, they were all gone.  Either someone found them or a possum ate them.  Hopefully no children ate them...although they were hard boiled, so I don't think they would do any serious harm...unless said children were allergic to eggs.  Hmmm....maybe not so great an idea? 

I spent the rest of the holiday watching enough of The Sound of Music, Downton Abbey and The Ten Commandments to drive Eric to heavy drinking during the Celtics games.

P.S.  The Ten Commandments (aka MOSES!) is probably one of my top ten favorite movies of all time.  I don't know why.  I think all the overacting and blue, blue eyes put me in some kind of trance.  Also, this movie and Christmas carols about the Baby Jesus account for the majority of my religious education.  Also, if I don't watch it, I worry that God may smite me with a large pillar of fire.

You may notice that my face looks extra doughy in this Easter photograph.  This is because I lived on a diet purely made up of pastries, french fries, and Peeps over vacation week.

The Easter bunny won this round, that's for sure.  He'll get his when I bite off his chocolate ears tonight during Dancing with the Stars...        

Eggs-cellent!

Today we dyed Easter eggs. (And by we, I mean I.)  

Madeline was more interested in the egg carton than in the dying process, but that's probably for the best.  That last thing we needed was a Maddie Bear covered in purple food coloring.  Although purple does look lovely on her.    

I'm sure next year she'll be more interested in Easter.

I told Eric that I'm going to hide the eggs around the apartment and make him and Maddie hunt for them on Sunday.  He told me that was the silliest thing he's ever heard.  Won't he be sorry when the Easter Bunny leaves his basket empty on Easter morning.  Bah Humbug!

Marathon Mommy Daddy Day!

Because we are horrible, terrible, no-good, rotten parents, we dropped Madeline off in daycare on our first official day of vacation so that Eric and I could go into Boston to have a quality day to ourselves.

(I wanted Eric to get a picture of my gleefully jumping into the air to celebrate our day of freedom, but instead, all he got were my not-so-graceful landings.)

 It may be worth noting that I am not a runner, nor do I  find running particularly interesting.  Every few years I take it up simply because I know it's a fast, easy, and cheap way to lose weight, but I do not enjoy it at. all.  After a few months, I inevitably get bored and lazy and give up.

In spite of the fact that Eric and I could only run for more than ten minutes if a very slow, but hungry, tiger were chasing us through the jungle, we spent our day watching the Boston Marathon.  

Why?  Because those people are fast.  And whenever someone is really good at something, it's always fun to watch.  I could watch someone vacuum his living room if he were the best in the world.

Today's winner finished in 2:03:02.  (A new record, p.s.) Excuse me?!  He ran 26.2 miles in the same time it took me to make my feet ready for sandal weather the other night?!

Fact:  It took us roughly an hour to eat an order of dumplings, two bowls of soup, and some rice with chicken at lunch today.  In that same amount of time that guy theoretically ran 13 miles. If we had eaten two orders of dumplings, added another beer or two, and tacked on dessert, it may have taken us just as long to eat lunch as it did for that guy to run an entire marathon!!

Also, my feet still hurt from walking back and forth across the city and standing on a crowded sidewalk for an hour to see better people than myself run by.  But, I can't complain, because I did not just run a marathon!

The runners get chips?!  No fair!

The craziest part about these people?  On the way back to the train, we saw them walking down the sidewalks on their way to lunch as if they had just finished a leisurely jog.  Every year we've gone to watch the race I've been amazed by this.  I'm pretty sure that if I just ran a marathon, I would be dead...like the first guy who ever ran a marathon.

Also, I watched the majority of the race through other people's mobile devices since whenever a runner went by, thousands of cameras and cellphones lifted in the air to capture the event, thus obstructing any view I might have possibly had.  So, technically, I did not see the marathon. I doubt very much if there was actually anyone there who saw the event with their own eyes instead of through the lens of some kind of machine.

Not that I can blame them, because unlike us, most of the spectators at least knew someone running.  If I ran the Boston Marathon, you'd better believe I'd require Eric get a good photo upon the pain of death.

Maybe I'll take another whack at running.  I did swear on the Internet that I'd get my frumpster off the couch.  I know I won't be running a marathon anytime soon, but maybe next year I can run from the train station to the sidewalk to watch...

P.S.  We also took silly pictures of me....Get it?

  

Vacation!

I wanted to take a celebratory "We're on vacation, Hooray!" picture of the three of us this afternoon.

I was going was going for cute, but instead we got:

We're sure not pretty, but we're still cute in our own way.

The Littlest Rhody

We took advantage of the beautiful weather this weekend with a trip to Rhode Island.

I went to the University of Rhode Island, but I haven't been back to the state for a good four years now. Um, how did that happen??  

I don't get nostalgic over many things in life.  I'm not the kind of person who misses high school, or misses my best friend from second grade.  But this weekend? I had full on flash backs.

For some reason, the clearest of my memories from college take place in the early spring.  It reminds me of walks at Narragansett Pier, visits to Newport, and all-night-paper-writing benders because I'd waited till the last minute to write that twenty-page final...again.    

This Saturday also happened to be Welcome Day for the incoming freshmen.  When we stopped by campus, (because I was dying to see what they've done with the place!) it was crawling with eager high school students warily exploring dorms with their parents.

It brought back memories of my Welcome Day and how I wasn't convinced I wanted to attend URI.  Little did I know that those years would turn out to be some of the best of my life.  

I worked for the student newspaper my junior and senior years.  

  It's weird going back now with my family.  The college students look like kids.  I couldn't remember the names of most of the buildings anymore.  The halls of Memorial Union, where I spent a large amount of time, no longer look familiar.  It somehow looks smaller, older than I remember it.  None of the faces are recognizable, and sadly, I've lost touch with most of my friends from college in the seven years since we've graduated.  In short, it's no longer home.    

I've only got seventeen years to convince Madeline that URI would be a good place for her to go to school.  It's a good thing I've started early.

      

Anniversary!

I just realized that today is my blogaversary!  My first post was on April 6, 2010.

Although, to be honest, this isn't my first blog.  I started my first "secret" blog after we lost Ellis Jane.  It was a really good outlet for me, and I met a lot of people going through the same thing as I was.  But eventually, I felt like I needed to move on.  There were only so many ways to say, "I lost my baby.  It sucks.  I'm sad."  It was no longer helpful or healthy for me.  So, I saved my old blog posts for my own memories, and deleted my first blog.  

I started this blog to keep family and friends updated on my pregnancy.  Now, Madeline is almost seven months old, and she already has a digital footprint.  I often wonder how long I'll keep this up.  Will I make Madeline hold that pink bunny when she graduates from high school?  Will I eventually get bored with blogging and just let it slip away?  Will my blog turn into something other than a "mommy blog" as Maddie grows older and our lives change?

At any rate, Our Little Baby has become a really fun hobby of mine.  It gives me a creative outlet and a place to vent.  It's connected me with other people.  Best of all?  I now have a priceless record of Madeline's life.  

Oh, Bloggy-Blog, where would I be without you?

And where would I be without you, sweet baby girl, wonder of wonders, love of my life?

Teen Mom 2

 I was so tired this morning that I hit the snooze button on my alarm about ten times before finally dragging myself out of bed.

I wish I could say these dark circles under my eyes are the product of motherhood, but they're not.  (At least not my motherhood.) Nope, they are due to my guiltiest of all pleasures...Teen Mom 2.

I don't know what it is about this show.  I know it's trashy.  Eric constantly points out that these are real girls with real problems being exploited on MTV.  I'm aware of all this.  And yet, I. just. can't. turn. away.  Which is why I stayed up way past my bedtime last night to watch the finale special with Dr. Drew.  

This is what Eric had to listen to last night, bless his heart:  

"Whoa, her hair is blond!  Omigod, Adam!  ADAM!!  Arggghhhh!  What is wrong with you?!  Dump him, Chelsea!  Dump Him! No, you don't even understand!  Why isn't Dr. Drew telling them to break up?!  Dr. Drew www!  You don't even understand, Eric!  He's so mean.  Stop laughing.  He's mean!"

"Oh Leah and Corey, you guys are cute even if you did have a Camo themed wedding."

"Gah! What happened to the original Orbits girl?!  This new one sucks.  Fab-u-lous!"

"You shouldn't speak to the mother of your child that way!  Why does he always grab at his penis when he's yelling at her?  What's with guys who do that?!  'Look at me, I'm a tough guy!' Eric, why do guys do that?"

"Doctor Drewwwwww!!  I just want him to tell them all to stop being idiots!  You, stop being an idiot.  You, stop being a D-bag.  Problem solved!"

Eric chirps in, "You're thinking of Dr. Phil.  You want him to grow a mustache and start loving Oprah."

"The world would be a much better place if everyone loved The Oprah."

"Oh Jenelle.  Ohhhhh Jenelle.  I know your mom is bat-ass crazy, but come on, girlfriend!  Dr. Drew?!  Fix her!"

"Wait, that's it?  Dr. Drew didn't even do anything.  God, I hate this show!"

Hot Momma!

A lot of my favorite baby blogs feature pictures of moms sporting the latest fashion trends.  These new mothers are hip, cute, and stylish.

Meanwhile, I usually look like this:

Jealous?

Yup, I'm just one delicious guacamole dip away from a pair of mom jeans.  (Pretty soon, I'm going to start wearing this.)

I spent nearly an hour huffing and puffing over having "nothing" to wear this morning.  I think the freaking April 1 snowstorm had something to do with my bad mood, but also, I really do have "nothing" to wear.   

Maybe if I started actually folding my laundry and putting it away, I'd be more inclined to dress myself. 

Or maybe...if I could start getting my frumpster off the couch and into a gym, I'd actually have a body I'd want to spend time dressing again.  

Seriously, having a baby does weird things to your body, yo.  And after two pregnancies in two years, including six months of I-Lost-My-Baby-So-Pass-Me-Another-French fry-Bitch! moping, my body in no way resembles its former self.  No joke; when I got pregnant with Ellis, I weighed 127 lbs.  When I got pregnant with Madeline??? 157!  Yikes!  

My thighs won't quit.  My butt is at the same time ridiculously wide, and yet, nonexistent.  (My rear end is a paradox!) I went from no boobs, to Whoa! Boobs!, to hm mm...where are my boobs?  Oh wait, I found them!  They were busy hanging out with my belly button.  

P.S.  I think I dropped my cell phone in my belly button last week, and I still haven't found it!  

All of this means that I don't know how to dress myself anymore.  The kinds of clothes that used to look flattering on me no longer do.  

I also feel like I'm at an odd age for fashion.  Thirty is right around the corner!  I'm getting too old to rock the clothes I used to wear, but I don't feel mature enough to start roaming the aisles of Liz Claiborne.  

Furthermore, new clothes cost money.  Gone are the days where I could just drop fifty bucks on a new shirt just because ommigod, it's soooo cute!  Now when I see a cute shirt, the little voice in my head whispers, "Summer, your daughter needs to go to college someday!  Do you really need that shirt?"  

This is probably not a bad attitude to have except for the fact that none of my clothes fit me right because, as I mentioned, my body is weird now.  

And this, people, is how frumpy mothers are created!  All those moms I've watched on shows like What Not to Wear?  I totally. get. it. now.   

I'm whining.  I know that.  If I don't like what I see, I should fix it.  Right?  Yet, the thought of fixing all the problems I see with my body and/or terrible fashion sense, is a bit overwhelming.   

Which is why I'm posting this on the Internet.   Hopefully the thought of readers looking at my pictures and tssking, "Wait a second, I thought she wanted to lose thirty pounds, not gain ten..." will be enough motivation to drop the Dunkin Donuts.   

I'll get there.  I will get there.  As God is my witness, Ms. Scarlett.  

But, seriously, it's Friday, so we just ate steak and cheese subs.  Diet starts Monday.  

Nice shirt, Maddie Bear

Breastfeeding: A Love Story

I've realized recently that my relationship with breastfeeding closely resembles that of a romantic comedy.  (Although I'm not sure if Katherine Heigl would play me or my breasts....conundrum.)

Starring Katherine Heigl as Summer's breasts

 Like most rom coms, when breastfeeding and I were first introduced, we couldn't stand one another.   I hated it to the point where I would cringe, cry, and throw temper tantrums every three hours when Madeline was ready to eat.  The only reason I stuck with it is because I'm as stubborn as a big toe.

Then, something happened.  I don't know when, or how, but breastfeeding and I became friends. We realized we wanted the same things, stopped fighting one another, and got busy feeding Madeline.

This is the part in the romantic comedy where there is a montage of our blossoming friendship.  We take long walks by the river.  We eat ice cream and wipe it off one another's noses.  We go shopping together.  We keep one another from drunk dialing our exes after long nights of karaoke.

But what really makes this a romantic comedy is the fact that I didn't realize how much I had grown to love breastfeeding until it was (almost) gone.  My supply is just about tapped out.

Going back to work took a real toll on our relationship.  There's not much time to pump in my day, and I worry that a student is going to knock on my door in the middle of the whole thing.  The door has a deadbolt, but I just don't feel comfortable.  I stopped pumping at work soon after returning.

Then the dreaded cat incident happened.  Both Maddie Bear and I were put on antibiotics, so I couldn't breastfeed her for an entire week.  I pumped as much as I could, but it wasn't enough.  Breastfeeding started to feel neglected.  True, I had taken it for granted, but I didn't expect it to just walk out on me like that.

Since then, our relationship has been strained.  I can feel breastfeeding slipping through my fingers.  When I was sick last week, my supply dropped again.  Now, I am down to nursing Madeline twice a day, but even then, I have to supplement with a bottle of formula in order to satisfy her growing appetite.

I know I could try really hard to repair our relationship, but there just doesn't seem to be time in the day.  When am I going to fit in extra feedings?

Which makes me realize that this story isn't a romantic comedy at all.  I can't give breastfeeding a long, romantic speech on New Year's Eve about how I want to spend the rest of my life with it, and expect that will just fix all our problems.  No, our story is a tearjerker romance a la The Way We Were or A Love Story.  (Maybe Barbara Streisand should play my chest??)  

Maybe this would be better casting??

In short, I'm really glad I stuck with breastfeeding instead of giving up in those early, frustrating days.  Now that breastfeeding is breaking up with me, I realize that I've grown to love it.  It did, in fact, turn out to be a wonderful bonding experience between me and my child.  At least I'll always have those misty, water-colored memories...

Diary of a Mad Sick Woman

 I haven't blogged much this week, so in case you're dying to know what we've been up to, my week looked something like this:

(Warning: it's pretty exciting stuff.  Read at your own risk.)

• Monday:  Annoyed by my cough, but still functional. I go to bed at 6 pm.     
• Tuesday: Uncontrollable crying on kitchen floor....just because.  Eric laughs at me, hugs me, then laughs at me some more.  He manages to make out the words, "I'm gonna get the baby siiiiiiiiicccck," between sobs. 
• Wednesday: Attempt to go to work.  Leave work early.  Spend the night begging for mercy.  Do not emerge from my bed again for over twenty-four hours.  
• Thursday: See Wednesday.   
• Friday:  Finally accept the need for medical intervention.  Turns out I am not dying from the plague, nor do I have pneumonia.  Hizz-ahh!  Doctor gives me antibiotics anyhow.  Hizz-ahh!    
• Saturday: Recovery in process.  The couch is my friend.  At least I'm not in bed.  

Madeline has a runny nose today, but otherwise seems okay.  We're still hopping she dodges this one.  Eric still feels fine as well.  He very rarely gets sick.  He insists it's due to his daily glass of orange juice and bowl of Cheerios, which he eats without milk because he's a weirdo.

P.S.  I love Eric.  He has been taking care of me and baby all week.  He's a fantastic dad, and a fantastic partner.  I don't know what I'd do without him.