Sleep: What a Beautiful Dream...
Saturday, June 30, 2007
I have not gotten more than three hours of sleep in a row in more than three weeks (since two nights before delivery of Sasha). In fact, most nights, I TOTAL three hours. It is like the worst case of insomnia I have ever had. Sasha is a normal baby; it's par for the course that she doesn't sleep more than three or four hours at a time. She usually sleeps from midnight to 3 AM and then is up until about 7:30, bright eyed and alert. And, evil mommy is just not a morning person. Listening to the tinkle of the same nursery songs over and over on the playmat is not a crazy funhouse of delight. Overall babies do sleep twelve or so hours a day but Jimmy is an overachiever and wants to do errands and clean the house while she is asleep. I feel guilty and lazy about wanting to take a nap all the time. Being tired makes me shirk all responsibilities and duties...Jimmy has been stuck with 92% of all household chores for the past month. The worst part is he is equally bleary and zombie-like.
Last night, we met with two couples who also have daughters within a few weeks of Sasha age-wise. We all have rings under our eyes but one of the couples recently was afforded a full night's sleep due to a very generous and sympathetic relative. Eight straight hours sounded so decadent to us...kind of like hot monkey love and fudge sundaes with extra whipcream. We were starved for details and kept asking things like was it a deep sleep or did they get to have dreams? Was there that delicious moment of dozing and luxuriating under the covers before you knew you had to get up?
Jimmy has been asked almost on a daily basis whether he has been getting any sleep. Usually the question is accompanied with a knowing smirk. So cruel...so very, very cruel. But the books assure us that it should only be for a couple months longer, right?
A Visit to the Pediatrician
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Sasha had her 2 1/2 week appointment today and she has gained 13 ounces already!!! She now weighs 7 lb 3 oz. A good little eater although maybe I should stop feeding her everytime she fusses- smile. She has also grown nearly an inch. It seems like each day she changes slightly- her face has filled out a little bit more, her eyes focus better, her hair has grown, etc. I feel like I have always got to be alert for the next change because I really, really don't want to miss a thing.
Sasha had to have a blood test today. They pricked her heel and filled five large circles with blood. It is some government test to make sure she doesn't have polio or anything. The nurse was complaining that the test was very old fashioned and they should have something less painful for the baby to endure. I completely agree- it was hard to watch Sasha bawl her little eyes out for nearly ten minutes while this test was done. The next pediatrician visit will be even worse because she will have immunization shots. Yikes!!! Maybe I'll just have Jimmy deal with it on his own. Anyway, Sasha quieted once a bandage was put on her foot. What a little trooper.
My mom left last night after a four day visit. I don't think she put Sashi down once.
An Original Poem
Friday, June 22, 2007
Yesterday Sasha's umbilical stump fell off. To commemorate the event (someone made a unilateral decision to put the stump in the garbage with a soiled diaper instead of saving it forever and placing it in Sasha's baby book), I have composed a little poem:
An ode to baby's umbilical chord-
And to the nutrients it once stored.
For nine months, the fetus grew and flourished-
From the pulsating line 'tween us that nourished-
Until birth when it was clamped and then cut.
Now my dear's on the breast to satisfy the gut.
All that remained was a stump black as ash-
Which soon fell off and was thrown in the trash.
Was it wrong to want to save that shriveled skin?
Or was dad right in chucking it in the bin?
As for my thoughts, here is the skinny-
I thank god her belly button's an innie!
Ok, Sasha, You Get The Crib & I Get This....
Monday, June 18, 2007
The battle over territory between Bodie and Sasha continues.
Sasha Is Here!!!
Sunday, June 17, 2007
It has been a crazy week and a bit- an emotional rollercoaster of love, insecurities, fear, and exhiliration! We finally got to meet our daughter (you can read about her birth story if you click on the link on the left hand side) and are getting to know her quirks and likes which change on a daily basis. At the beginning of last week she decided that she hated my left boob, feared it like it was Satan's spawn. She would see it coming and scream bloody murder. This was a problem because that breast was slightly less torn up than the right and disuse only made it swollen and extremely leaky. Then on Wednesday, she decided it was ok to drink from again. No rhyme or reason as to why. It's not like I treat my left mammary gland different than my right. No preferential attention, I swear. Actually breastfeeding has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. My friend, Diane, thinks it feels a lot like a carrot grater. After my precious baby tore my scab off during a feeding and I watched in horror as her mouth filled up with blood, I decided to go to a lactation specialist. That has helped immeasurably. They advised me to change my position to the football hold so Sashi could latch on correctly and gave me the most amazing things ever: Medela Soft Shells for super sore nipples. They are kind of like athletic cups for boobs but with sponges for drips (which I don't think jock straps have....although who knows with boy stuff).
They make my chest look funky (Jimmy calls 'em wierd fembot boobs) but I don't care. I can finally wear a shirt without shrieking in pain. Yay!
Off the subject of my ta-ta's and back to Sasha, it has been going pretty well. She doesn't fuss too much (except when she is hungry or gassy, both of which occur with alarming frequency) and has the cutest collection of expressions. Already she has more depth and range than Keanu Reeves and Ben Affleck. Plus better head control. And she is a good little kicker.
Jimmy has been coping with the lack of sleep and a messy house admirably. I think he is making the bestest father. Very gentle and kind and he has developed some terrific diapering skills. He has withstood a barrage of projectile pooping. With the quickest of reflexes, he has used a soiled diaper as a catcher's mitt when Sashi (the naughty minx) tinkles in the middle of a changing. And, he does this fabulous thing with he baby's legs which allows her to fart easily. I thank god that Jimmy is in my life. Happy father's day to him!!!! He may almost be as good as my own father who used to diaper me!!!!
This Administration Believes in Torture Lite
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Yesterday we woke up to find that ants had crawled into the living room from outside to feast upon Scout's puke (our cats throw up alot due to a healthy diet regimen of plastic, dental floss, house plants, toilet water, fur, and occasionally the extremely expensive cat food we get for their intestinal problems). We each handled the situation in our own ways: I by screaming, flailing my hands, and then running back into bed so I could rock under the covers in a fetal position and Jimmy by getting out the Raid and using it like a hose. This particular type of insecticide doesn't KILL but STUNS the ants. My vegan, animal-lovin' hubby refuses to destroy one of God's creatures. Instead, he tasers the bugs, vaccuums them up, seals them off in a garbage bag, and whisks them to the closest dump. The ants must wake up battered and think, "What the hell just happened?????" Not that I care; I hate the critters and would be fine with mass homicide. Jimmy sealed the hole they were getting through and he was careful to make sure no ants got stuck in the caulk. He did a great job because there were no ants this morning. Of course, going back into our house must be as appealing as an arab breaking into Guantanamo Bay.
BTW, the Archives page works now!!! Go me.
Obssessing
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
No signs of baby yet. Not...one....single....sign. Meanwhile, my other pregnant friends have been completely proactive and have popped 'em out in a no fuss, no muss manner. One woman was due three weeks after me and she had her son May 25th. So, so unfair. I feel like the last kid picked in gym class. And the most annoying part??? I can't stop talking/ thinking about it. I walked with Becky yesterday and monopolized the entire two hours of conversation...because being overdue is a *very complex* situation to grasp. Like astrophysics. As if Becky doesn't suffer enough from my rantings, she also gets it at her job; her colleague can't stop inappropriately bringing up her barren womb in every work-related conversation. Example:
B: So, I think going over this section would be fruitless.
C: You mean, kind of like my uterus????
Frankly, I am surprised Becky isn't feeling vaguely homicidal from this constant barrage of overripe and barren wombs.
I could probably take my mind off of it if I kept myself busy with the list Jimmy drew up of things I NEED to get done before the delivery like getting my oil changed, selling and organizing the rest of my crap rotting in the garage, finishing websites, etc. etc. Blech, I'd rather complain.
I did see "Knocked Up" (yes, I am slightly masochistic- didn't you read the above????) over the weekend. B+. Some pretty funny parts. I loved the intense gynecologist. Jimmy wanted me to mention that there is noooooo way the schlubby protagonist could get Katherine Heigl. We had an argument whether that was more unrealistic than the delivery scene.
Cranky Pants
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Still pregnant. Still hotter than Hades in Phoenix. I went to yoga this morning to try find inner peace and set some good intentions. That lasted about 5 minutes. So, I ate some vegetarian sushi (read: an entire package in less than 3 seconds while driving back from Trader Joe's) and that provided some solace. Emotional eating is healthy and fun! Overall, I think this picture of our high maintenance, drama queen cat, Scout, best describes how I feel:
Jimmy keeps suggesting that I might need a nap.
