She's crafty...... NOT

The Big Dubya is the eldest of three boys. Both of his sisters-in-law are, shall we say..... crafty. They make things like gift baskets, birthday cakes, scrapbooks..... me, I'm a business person, I have no talent... I just go out and buy stuff..... I'm the one that over-pays for the stuff these crafty-types make.

Now, in fairness, I can cook a little..... I'm a Food Network junky and test drive recipes on the Big Dubya regularly.... so I don't totally lack creativity. But, unlike the other girls, I am far more likely to go out and buy lemon scented kitchen soap than I am to grow lemons, make it from scratch and present it to people in pretty sachets over the holidays.

I mention this because the three brothers & their wives are taking my in-laws out for a surprise fancy dinner tomorrow night (limo & all) for their 40th wedding anniversary. To commemorate the occasion, one sister-in-law is creating a scrapbook.... primarily consisting of photos highlighting their 40+ years together, the other sister-in-law is assembling a similar collection of memories in a video to be viewed in the limo en route to dinner.

When asked if I'd like to contribute a couple of pages to the scrapbook, I got oddly insecure.... do I have it in me to produce such items? It's not that I'm not sentimental.... it's just that I picture the pages I could produce to be something out of the 6th grade whereas the other girls are a cross between Martha Stewart & MacGyver.... we are talking about women who can make a holiday dinner out of a can of baked beans and a piece of string..... whereas, I am a master of letting my fingers doing the walking and ordering really, really well. I opted to supply photos from our little collection to be incorporated into the scrapbook/video and sent the happy couple a nice gift package on their recent European cruise (notice the ordering-over-the-phone-skill at work).

I firmly believe that the gifts I give are just as nice and (hopefully) just as appreciated as these home-made ones..... and despite the fact that I feel very inferior, I will just never have it in me to voluntarily buy or use a glue gun.

The Freshman 15, 20, 25...... whatever

So no, I'm not a freshman.... just another woman trying to lose the baby weight, and achieve a shape better than " good for someone who just had a baby". A little more complicated when trying to care for the 'Lil Dubya who seems to be allergic to sleep, but I digress....

As mentioned before, meals which are quick, easy and one-handable are the key. Over the weekend, the Big Dubya and I were watching Fox News (translation: cable news show for Republicans) and they were doing a segment on the book pictured above -- after a bit of nostalgic reminiscing, I got a hankerin' for them noodles -- they were such a staple back in the day. I noticed they were on sale at Stop & Shop and I picked up a few packets.... quick, easy, can be eaten with one hand -- and let's not forget the bonus -- they are a bargain at 6 for $1.

As I was cooking my noodles yesterday (if boiling water is really cooking), I figured I'd see what the calorie content was.... imagine my utter shock

Calories 190
Fat 8 grams
Calories from Fat 70

In Weight Watchers language, that's 4 points -- and.... that's for only half the package. It seems that the tiny little (and apparently anorexic) people who work for Marchuchan think that "1/2 the block with seasoning" is a reasonable serving size. I'll give cash money to anyone who's actually gotten two meals out of these things. For those who don't speak Weight Watchers, someone my size would get 18-20 points for the entire day.... so if I were to walk on the wild side and eat the whole block of noodles, it would be almost half of my points.

Oh, and for you Atkins people... yeah, you are screwed too .. 25 grams of Carbs per serving!!

The Water Boy

Well, not really......

Some guy from the town stopped by today.... wanted to install some new water meter.... yeah, whatever. He needed to get into the basement, then do some stuff outside.... okay, sounds reasonable... he had a uniform.... I let him in.

So, the guy hears 'Lil Dubya melting down over the baby monitor.... the Big Dubya and I are practicing some tough love.... trying to get the little guy to nap.... child does not sleep, gets overtired/overstimulated, gets bloody miserable, pile on some more sleeplessness, more bloody miserable..... the cycle repeats itself until the child is so exhausted that he doesn't even cry he just screams and it actually sounds like words not nice words by the way.... 4 letter words.

By the time the Big Dubya gets home from work I need such a large glass of wine that I think he's very close to arriving home with a one-way-ticket to the Betty Ford Center.

The water guy announces that his wife is 10 weeks pregnant and that her pre-natal vitamins were making her sick..... he's so glad she figured out what it was.... now everything's just rosy. I wanted to wring this guy's scrawny little neck... I went through 20 weeks of all-day-sickness, toxemia, HELLP syndrome, an emergency c-section and now colic and he's trying to sympathize with the nausea associated with pre-natal vitamins!!!!

Do what you need buster, and get the f*ck out of my house! I'm not in the mood

Photo Finish...

Since the 'Lil Dubya arrived, I've gotten calls from all sorts of people trying to sell us stuff.... particularly photo studios. They aren't stupid, they know you want as many good pictures of your tiny bundle as possible. In a moment of weakness, I made an appointment with Sears.... they were having a deal and I figured why not. Well, then the Big Dubya made fun of me, and so I cancelled. He'll deny making fun of me, but he did.... I swear he did.

In the meantime, we've been planning a celebration for my in-laws.... Mr & Mrs Bigger Dubya -- they've been married 40 years today... poor babies are on a European cruise at the moment -- but we'll be doing something for them when they return. Anyway, Big Dubya's sister-in-law (medium J's wife) is making them a scrapbook/photo album of memories that cover the last 40 years and asked us to supply some photos from our wedding, of 'Lil Dubya and a family photo (me, Big & 'Lil Dubya)......

Believe it or not readers, no such photograph existed.... in the twelve weeks since the 'Lil Dubya entered this world, there have been plenty of photos of him, a bunch of the two Dubya's together, a handful of me & the little guy -- but only one of the three of us and it's Gawd awful. What to do...... out of pure desperation I called and made an apt at a photo shop in the mall... did you know they have same-day service????

Anyway, after getting stuck in traffic and showing up 45 minutes late for our appointment ('lil guy was also hungry & tired by this stage of the game) we got an okay family photo and a bunch of really good ones of the little guy.... he really is the cutest thing in the world. I have decided, however, that the photographers that work in those places are the most patient people in the universe. The woman that took our pictures was amazing -- she was so good with the baby and very patient -- seemingly content to wait all day for him to smile.... and for a while, I thought he was going to make her wait.

We left the studio, had lunch & a couple of beers -- went back and voila, the proofs were ready. A crap load of money later, we were on our way home.....

I'll be a typhoon -- I mean a tycoon

Since having the 'Lil Dubya I've come up with tons of great business ideas.....

For example, a cookbook of dinners that can be easily eaten with one hand. Since the little guy arrived, there have only been a handful of meals where I truly had the full use of both hands. Sure, the Big Dubya will help out and cut my steak, butter my toast -- but it makes me feel pretty pathetic. Some meals I can manage with only one hand -- a collection of these recipes in a new mother cookbook would be a great gift idea.....

Next -- how about a workout routine that can be done while holding your colicky bundle of joy. How many times have I started to work out or hopped on the treadmill only to have to jump back off to fetch my screaming son? This morning while I was bouncing 'Lil Dubya, who was in his colicky glory, it occurred to me that for him, the motion would be essentially the same if I was doing lunges, kick-backs or squats..... there's probably a clever way to multi-task here, a video perhaps....

Lastly (and not to go on some more about my recent trip to Florida, but...) car rental places rent car seats -- but most people with infants have those infant seats that snap into the car seat base and then snap into the stroller while the base remains in the car. If you are trying to bring your seat & stroller on a plane with you.... you need to also bring the base for use in a rental car -- but the base has no place in the stroller and it doesn't fit in the too-small-for-anything-basket that is under the seat of the stroller, so you're stuck carrying it (some suggest a bungee cord, but...). Why don't car rental companies just rent the base? Most people want to use their own seat anyway -- I mean, really, who wants to put their baby in a rented car seat? God only knows what some other germy kid did in it? or when the last time it was washed/disinfected.... I want the seat that my germy kid did gross things in!

Where does the time go?

The Big Dubya kind of stole my thunder in his post yesterday, but..... where does the time go?

The 'Lil Dubya is 12 weeks today..... in ways it seems like yesterday, in others a lifetime ago. I remember Granny & Aunt P showing up at the hospital with preemie clothes so that the 'Lil Dubya wouldn't have to go naked.... I remember that even those preemie clothes were swimming on him and that the newborn diapers were huge -- no matter how tight we put them on, there would still be big gaps.... and he was stealth-like in finding those gaps. We had to get a preemie insert for the carseat, and even then we needed to roll-up receiving blankets to add additional support.... couldn't have him flopping around in there. The buckle on the papasan chair which should have secured him mid-upper waist, landed somewhere between his chin & his nose.

Now he's 12 weeks, and up to 7lbs.... he has just outgrown the preemie clothes that were once enormous and he's wearing the newborn size (0-3 mos still way too big). Those gapping newborn diapers are starting to get tight and we'll be graduating to the size 1's soon. We took the preemie insert out of the carseat, and only need a receiving blanket to cover his little legs.

I admit it, I'm a hypocrite..... I tearfully sat in the NICU begging this kid to gain weight, and now as I pack up his tiny little things, I look at my precious little boy and wish he'd stay this size forever.

WooooHoooo He Naps!!

I swore when I started this that it wouldn't be the traditional "Mommy Blog" -- I'm cooler than that -- there is more to my life than my baby. Well, no I'm not and no there isn't!

Since we brought him home from the hospital, my child will not sleep -- he likes to be up all day.... so we end up with an over-tired, colicky baby who screams and cries for hours on end no matter what we do -- and eventually he poops out late afternoon and passes out.

Every few days I come up with a new scheme to get him to take a morning nap and it ends up being a futile battle where we both end up crying -- but today's scheme worked.... not sure how or why, but it worked -- no crying, no screaming -- I put him down while he was awake, kissed him and walked off and he stayed there.... and he didn't cry..... and he just nodded off..... and I'm damn proud of myself.

My kid's got talent

The Big Dubya, 'Lil Dubya & I live in Connecticut...... Granny, Aunt P and many of the other people mentioned in these posts live in the Boston area. As a result, we take quite a few road trips to visit friends and family. One such trip was last Wednesday.... 'Lil Dubya & I picked up Granny and then Aunt P to head to the airport. On the way to get Granny, I stopped at a rest stop off the Mass Turnpike to feed and change the little guy.

After having a baby, you learn all sorts of new things that can be discreetly done in the backseat of your car... breastfeeding, diaper changing, etc. Well, this time 'Lil Dubya's diaper was full, and I mean FULL of the good stuff. It's okay... I'm prepared for such occasions (note to the rookies, a roll of papertowels is always good to have on hand in the backseat). Just as I open the diaper, 'Lil Dubya reaches down, takes a fist full and rubs it all over his shirt.

What??? He's never done that before... he's never even ventured south of the equator before. Now it's on his shirt, it's on his arms, it's on his hands & legs, between his fingers & under his finger nails..... and I have to move fast because he's fond of putting his hands & forearms in his mouth. Thank Gawd for baby wipes & lots of them..... (note to the rookies, another good thing to have handy are plastic bags.... both for the dirty diapers/wipes and for the dirty clothes). Fortunatley, I keep a couple of spare outfits (along with ziplok baggies and a stain stick*) in the diaper bag, so we were changed and back on the road in no time.

* Stain Stick works great, but Shout makes these pre-treat wipes that work pretty well too -- they look like handy wipes and are lighter/take up less space than the stain stick

Back in my day, you got thrown out of a bar after you puked...

Not that I have personal experience in the area, but when I was young and frisky throwing up in a bar was a sure fire way to get thrown out..... apparently not in Disney.

As mentioned in a previous post, we arrived in Orlando late on Wednesday night -- and we were starved. The closest place to get a bite to eat was the ESPN Club, and it was dead so we popped in for a sandwich. 'Lil Dubya was an angel -- we ordered and were served in record time.

Just as our order came, a young woman scurried by holding her mouth.... you've all seen it -- puke spewing through her fingers and onto the floor -- except it's usually in a dark bar, late at night -- maybe around closing time. This was the ESPN Club in Disney, which is about as dark as a carnival and it was about 10:00 p.m., hardly late night. Aunt P & I giggled and really didn't know how to react -- Granny didn't know what to make of it, our little Irish mother has probably never seen such a site -- someone throwing up in public because she had too much of "the drink"... the horrors.

Now again, not that I have personal experience, but usually when someone runs from the bar in such a fashion, they don't come back..... or maybe they do, but they SNEAK back in. Nope, not this time.... a few moments later, this woman sauntered back in. She even took the time to stop and point to the trail of vomit that she had left to a waitress and then she returned to her table and resumed drinking. We were horrified. Our waitress stopped by to see how our dinner was, and I said fine considering we were about 4 feet from a trail of puke. She laughed and said, yeah, usually people choose a discreet corner or a booth rather than the main floor -- not exactly the response I expected.

I remember back in the day, we'd be leaving a bar and have to walk around such a display.... never did I imagine I'd have to navigate 'Lil Dubya's stroller around it......

The day where nothing went right, well.... almost

The wake-up call came at 5:00 a.m., our flight was at 7:55 a.m., we were to finish packing up, feed the baby and get on the road by 6:00 a.m..... it was a good, solid plan.

We were doing great, the baby was asleep, packing was progressing nicely, and then the day took a wayward turn and never seemed to get back on track.....

Somewhere around 5:15, Aunt P announced that our flight was actually at 6:55 a.m., and that we needed to move....... so, the clothes don't actually get folded before going into the suitcase and the baby might get only a little fed, but it was all still doable.

Somewhere around 5:20, Aunt P realizes that her purse is probably still in the brewery where we had lunch yesterday...... probably not open at this hour..... all hope is not lost, ID is in shorts pocket -- many phone calls ensue -- messages are left, not much more we can do, purse will have to be left behind.

To her credit, Aunt P got us to the airport in record time, drops Granny, 'Lil Dubya & I at the terminal and runs to return the rental car -- 'Lil Dubya is now screaming because he really needs to get fed and the time is 6:25. We get in the crazy long line to check in and pretty much accept the fact that we won't make it. 'Lil Dubya spontaneously stops crying as Aunt P scampers through the doors just as we get to the front of the line. Snooty airline worker reminds us that we are late and that our baggage may not make it on the plane -- we begin to run.

As we are running toward the gate, the man yells "Are you Mrs Big Dubya?" -- Granny is shocked -- "How does he know who you are?"....... apparently, we are now famous.

Once we are onboard and settled in our seats, Aunt P decides to call her fiancee to let him know we are going to be arriving an hour earlier than expected (he was picking up Aunt P & Granny, my car is at the airport). Uh-oh, hell-day is not over, cell phone is still in condo...... it's okay, she can use mine.

9:20 am we arrive, Aunt P offers to go retrieve my car.... she knows where it is, and then we realize.....ticket is in her purse. Luckily, I've got the keys in the diaper bag. Aunt P goes to fetch the car, but parking guy will not let her have it without ticket (let's remember that she's the one that dropped it off, she knows where it is and she has the keys). I leave Granny and 'Lil Dubya at the terminal and ride the bus to fetch Aunt P & my car.

Aunt P calls fiancee.... he hasn't left the house to pick them up yet, he was asleep for earlier call... doesn't remember conversation about getting home an hour earlier... feels terrible. We tell him to stay put, I'll drop them off.

Load up the car, and get on the road.... 'Lil Dubya awakes screaming... of course, he's hungry

Live from Disney...

As predicted, Aunt P brought the laptop along to take care of one little thing that would take 5 minutes on Friday morning....... a couple hours later, here we are.

I'll write a longer post when we return, but for now..... 'Lil Dubya has seen drunk girls throw up at the ESPN Zone, has done the Y-M-C-A at Planet Hollywood and has flirted with a cute stewardess to obtain his wings. He was terrific on the plane by the way, slept the entire flight.

His Irish cousins were smitten with him (of course) and Aunt P and Granny are trying hard not to fight over who gets to hold him....

It really is just a pretty face

The last couple of days, I've been fretting about whether or not to bring my breast pump on vacation..... 'lil Dubya has to take an RX 3 times a day -- it's mixed with breast milk and given to him in a bottle just before his feeding.... it would also be handy to have so that I could get some away time and either Granny or Aunt P could give him a bottle -- so, I was trying to figure out the best way to accomplish this without bringing the big bulky pump. I do have a hand pump that I got for free at the hospital -- but OUCH!

Now, when I purchased my pump, 'Lil Dubya was still in the hospital and I was pumping every 3 hours and delivering all the little bottles to the NICU for the nurses to feed him -- I also knew that I'd be pumping every day when I go back to work, so I bought the Cadillac of breast pumps.... the Medela Pump In Style (please note, there is nothing stylish about this medieval torture device). Anyway, it comes in this supposedly convenient back-pack blah, blah, blah -- it's big & awkward. I have the diaper bag as my carry-on, so I was going to pack the back-pack in my suitcase -- which would require me to bring a big honking suitcase in order to fit the pump, my clothes, his clothes, baby blankets, burp clothes, diapers, wipes.... you see where I'm going with this.

Aunt P told me to just bring the big case or let Granny bring the pump as a carry-on...... what's the big deal (she was probably tired of listening to me fret). Then.... in the middle of the night (literally) it hit me.... I wonder if the mechanism that is the pump comes out of the back-pack... enabling me to bring just the pump part and not the whole back-pack. Sure enough, the pump slides out of the back-pack YAAAAYYYY -- I can use the small suitcase and still bring the pump without the damn backpack that has tons of "convenient" compartments... none of which are a size that fit anything useful.

I'm embarrassed that I didn't think of this very obvious solution sooner, I mean DRRRRR it's not rocket science, but... better late than never. Not sure if I'll be posting over the next few days.... depends on Aunt P and her gift of procrastination.... as predicted, she was up 'til all hours of the night wrapping up work..... I'm guessing it'll be around noon when she decides to bring the laptop to do work on the plane, but..... we'll see

In other news, I was thrilled to learn I actually have readers who aren't related to me.... thanks for the comments. Lastly, the Big Dubya deserves props -- he's been very supportive during our battle with colic and he didn't even wince when he put my suitcase in the car this morning before he left for work.... he's a keeper.

Sunscreen, Diapers, Wipes....

So, I'm a new mother -- about to take my first plane trip with my son. I've taken him on weekend trips... not sure if they really count -- those trips were just home to my parents house, I had my own car and could bring as much stuff as I wanted.... just pack it on in and let the Big Dubya deal with carrying it in and out. This time, I have to pack a suitcase (that I'll have to carry myself).... and forgetting something important would be more than just a tiny bit inconvenient.

Fortunately, 'Lil Dubya's clothes are teeny tiny -- because he tends to go through a few outfits per day.... we'll bring a bunch. Diapers & wipes.... he's still only 6lbs 15oz, so he's still wearing the newborn size.... pretty small, don't take up tons of space..... so, we're all set there. His RX for reflux, we'd be screwed if we forgot that..... Granny, Aunt P & I would need as many outfits as 'Lil Dubya. I'm still debating the breast pump.... would be handy to pump off a bottle for Granny so that Aunt P and I could stretch our legs one night (translation: hit the pub), but it's bulky... not much bang for the luggage-space-buck. (Editorial Note: Wouldn't it be nice if places like hotels -- especially family oriented ones like Disney -- had breast pumps for guest-use the way hospitals do.... when 'Lil Dubya was in the NICU, I was able to pump whenever I needed to.... I had my own bottles/tubes.... it was very convenient, and a service that was very much appreciated). Aunt P can't leave home without her laptop (see previous post) so I can just use hers if necessary... I've also convinced her to bring some extra clothes for me.... of course Granny will try to wear them too (the perils of being the same size), but that means I can bring a little less....

Long story short.... gone are the days where I just threw clothes into a duffel bag until it was full and ran out the door.

The Annual Girls Getaway.... With a twist

Granny loves to travel... go new places... see new things... (particularly if there are slot machines involved). Grandad is a total homebody... sees no reason to leave home, unless it's to pop into the local pub for a pint... and I stress the word local. Seems shocking that these two found each other, but here we are 34 years later..... it works for them.

Anyway, after making our own way in the big bad world, Aunt P & I started taking Granny on "Annual Girls Getaways". These trips were designed to give back a little to the woman who did so much for us and to enable her to indulge her adventurous side, a side which Granddad has little/no interest in. We've treated her to long weekends in Disney, Las Vegas, Atlantic City.... and despite the fact that these trips are fun for us..... watching her let loose is the true reward. You'd almost have to know our mother to understand why these trips are such a hoot -- to anybody else, they'd just be a weekend away of eating too much, drinking a little and laughing, laughing, laughing. But our mother is one of those people who did everything for her kids and very little for herself -- so, these little getaways are the first real vacations she's had.

The first trip was to Disney..... getting Granny on the rides was a challenge, but once we got her started there was no stopping her (we couldn't get her off Epcot's test track). The next trip was to Las Vegas..... Granny loves to gamble.... I'd almost go so far as to say that she's got a gambling problem -- except she's a bit too cheap to categorize it as a problem.... Aunt P & I did our best to keep the smut peddlers away from her, but when we wake up at 3 in the morning and she's still not in her bed, there isn't a whole lot we can do...... pry her away from the nickel slots?

As I mentioned in previous posts, we are about to take another trip to Disney..... this trip will be a bit different, as 'Lil Dubya will be joining us (Girls Getaway + 1 young fella) -- but I think he'll just increase the laughter as the three of us try to navigate through the airport with all his gear. In any event, I'm thrilled that the three of us make an effort to spend these weekends together... as the years go by and 'Lil Dubya gets siblings and/or cousins it'll probably be harder to coordinate/schedule, but I hope we keep it going...... it's a rare opportunity for me to spend time with my sister & my mother..... harkens back to those days in the park when she used to push us on the swings... now Aunt P & I spend our time trying to get Granny tipsy

Is it really a vacation....

Is it really a vacation if you bring your laptop with you and login to work every day (multiple times a day)?

As mentioned in a previous post.... Aunt P, Granny, 'Lil Dubya and I are heading to Disney for a little R&R with some Irish cousins. Any time I go away anywhere with Aunt P, she brings her laptop and logs into work. The plans usually start off with her swearing she's not bringing it, then her staying up all night the night prior to departure so that she can finish up that one last thing before we go so that she doesn't HAVE to bring it -- then she brings it so she can wrap things up "on the plane" -- and then it's logging in for just a few minutes (at least an hour) each day to "check-in". We are currently T-minus 76 hours to departure and we are still in the "I'm not bringing it" phase.

In fairness, I can't give her too much of a hard time -- her bringing her laptop means that I can quickly jump on and do some checking in of my own..... and I get crap all the time because despite the fact that I'm on maternity leave, I login to work every day and spend probably an hour reading & sometimes responding to emails. I know I don't need to do this.... there's probably some question of whether or not it's even legal (technically I'm on ST disability) but..... I like my staff and I want them to all still work there when I return to work. I'd hate to think that my absence is causing them any more grief than absolutely necessary -- but where do you draw the line?

I've been toying with bringing my laptop this time so that I can download pictures.... the digital camera is great and the laptop allows us to see how the pictures came out right away without having to rely on that microscopic screen on the back... generally this is where I say naaaa, with 'Lil Dubya and all his gear, I've got enough to contend with. I know Aunt P will end up bringing hers, so..... I'll just give her a hard time for bringing it and then use it when she's not looking :)

M-I-C.......K-E-Y

Irish cousins will be spending a couple of weeks in Orlando -- so Granny & Aunt P suggested we pop down for a few days. Of course Granny pretends to be coming to see the cousins (who she just saw in Ireland 4 weeks ago), but we all know she wants a few days of unfettered access to 'Lil Dubya. I thought about it for a while -- kinda thinking that Orlando in August is probably not worth it, but.... I'm on maternity leave and it's just as easy to sit around a world-class Disney resort as it is to sit around my unkept house in Connecticut -- so hmmmmmm
-- Sit & battle the heat in CT or sit & battle the heat at Disney resort
-- Push stroller around neighborhood in CT trying to shed the last of the baby lbs or push it around DisneyBoardwalk where there are no open-container rules and lots of places dying to liquor me up
-- Spend my days taking care of 'Lil Dubya or spend them watching Granny & Aunt P fight over who gets to take care of him while I sip tropical concoctions by the pool

Ladies & Gentlemen, I have two words for you -- WE'RE IN!

I'd say that traveling w/ the 'Lil Dubya will be an adventure.... he's so young he won't remember seeing Mickey, but Aunt P insists on introducing him..... and I'm not going to deny her the indulgence.

So we are off on Wednesday for a few days away.... the Big Dubya can't make it... he's got some fancy meeting lined up with some Big Cheeses in NYC -- but he won't be bored... he's also got a bachelor party to attend (where he will remember he's happily married to 'Lil Dubya's mother, who is not afraid to open up a can of whoop-ass if he misbehaves)

Oh..... he must be hungry

Why is it that every time a baby cries in public, some well-meaning busy body assumes that he/she's hungry? and feels the need to give his/her mother the "Why are you starving your baby?" eyes?

I can't tell you the number of times somebody has told me that my baby, who is rarely more than 3 feet away from me, is hungry. Is that the only possible reason a baby might cry, whimper, whine or moan? Geez, no wonder most of America's children are (or are on their way to being) obese -- people just stick a bottle or a boob in their mouth everytime they make a noise.

For the record, I take great pains to feed the 'Lil Dubya just before we go anywhere -- primarily because I don't want him having a meltdown in Stop & Shop... or wherever we are going to be. Now, I recognize that I am a rookie mother...... and I definitely don't know it all -- but 'Lil Dubya cries for all different reasons -- sometimes because he's hungry -- but often for other reasons -- gas, getting ready to shock his parents with how gross he can make his tiny little diaper, tired because the gas pains keep waking him...... it's not always because he's hungry -- and I can't always make him stop -- it's truly heartbreaking -- but it's the truth.

Some people are kind though... mostly those who've "been there" -- for example, a kind woman in Stop & Shop gave me her deli number which was many, many ahead of mine -- normally I would decline such an offer -- but I wanted to hug this woman. I hope to return the favor sometime when 'Lil Dubya isn't so 'lil and some other mother's baby is melting down in produce.

Colic.....

WebMd.com defines Colic as:

the extreme end of normal crying behavior in a baby between 3 weeks and 3 months of age

I've been in denial for a couple of weeks, but it's finally time to admit it -- 'Lil Dubya is colicky. He's freakin' miserable -- when we hold him we can feel the gas bubbling up and down his spiny little back -- he cries & cries.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but when he's not having a colic attack, he's a great baby -- it's amazing to me that he goes from being a model baby to being a screaming terror. We've tried just about everything -- those gas drops, work for about 3 minutes....... at most. Gripe water works sometimes -- helps induce "toots" which brings relief -- but it's short-lived and we are back to the crying, crying, crying... have tried the chairs that vibrate -- nothing, the swing -- nope, ride in the car -- useless....

Have been searching the internet, looking for more remedies to try..... slitting my wrists seems like a worthwhile solution.... the pediatrician offered to prescribe something, but I'm hoping to manage this without drugs -- although, the drop of Jameson under the tongue has gotten more and more attractive as time has gone on.

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

I don't want to complain, but when do the thank-yous end?

My sister (a.k.a. Aunt P) threw me a baby shower to end all baby showers..... it was beautiful, the food, the people, the gifts...... generous doesn't describe it. One of my gifts from Aunt P was the thank you notes... envelopes all addressed, all I had to do was write the inside -- it was awesome, and I cruised through them -- and it's a good thing, because as soon as the last one hit the mail..... I had another baby shower at work. Again, the generousity of people astounds me -- I got gifts, expensive gifts from people I hardly know -- and so, there was another batch of thank-yous to write, but how could I complain -- my baby registry was cleaned out, the 'Lil Dubya's room was decorated & furnished and his closet was full.....

Those thank-yous were on the front seat of my car the night I went to the hospital with chest pains and ended up having an emergency c-section. They were eventually mailed sometime after I was discharged but before 'Lil Dubya came home..... I know this because 'Lil Dubya wasn't even home when he started getting mail... and I don't mean junk mail -- I mean UPS & FedEx packages with even more generous and thoughtful gifts.... I was good, I brought the thank you notes with me and wrote them in the NICU -- there wasn't a lot to do while 'Lil Dubya slept.... so I'd write them and then put them in the mailbox at the hospital entrance..... thank-yous to friends, family, co-workers -- people I forgot I knew -- I think I came close to filling that mailbox a couple of times. Then the little man came home and I fell behind, but that was okay -- people understand.... new babies keep you busy.

Now the dilemma, we had 'Lil Dubya's christening on Saturday -- and yes, that means more gifts, and more f'ing thank you notes......

Here's the sticky part -- I owe multiple thank-yous to the same damn people! Yes, some of the people who got shower thank-yous, also need to get a new baby thank-you, and are now owed a christening thank-you -- betcha Emily Post doesn't cover this one! I feel bad cheating anyone out of a thank-you -- especially seeing how awesome the gifts have been, but.... good Lord I'm going to go broke between Hallmark & stamps -- and my handwriting has deteriorated to the point where people are going to think 'Lil Dubya wrote them himself. Isn't it silly to send the same person a second & a third thank you all for the same baby? I suppose it's the right thing to do -- three gifts, three thank-yous.... maybe I'll get the Big Dubya to write some.... at least they won't look quite so similar.

And no (this means you Aunt P) I wouldn't have more time for thank-yous if I didn't spend so much time on this blog

Why Mrs Big Dubya?

Not that any of the three of you readers have asked....(two of you already know) but, I thought I'd tell the tale of how I became Mrs Big Dubya....

Once upon a time, I was at a cheesy bar and not in a very cheery mood -- had pretty much sworn off men. A strappin' fella (Mr Big Dubya) approached me and asked if he could sit down next to me -- I had no reason to say no, so... he sat. We chatted for a while -- he was very polite -- and let's just say.... I wasn't

Mr Big Dubya: Do you come here often?
Me: No, I hate this place
Mr Big Dubya: But I saw you here last weekend
Me: So, you are either super observant or you are stalking me -- which guy do you want to be?
Mr Big Dubya nervously sips beer

To this day, I'm not sure why he continued this conversation -- but he did and being a gentleman he walked me to my car at the end of the night. He asked for my number, and I uncharacteristically gave it to him -- but, I wasn't done being a rude smartass

Mr Big Dubya: So, when's a good time to call you
Me: Gee, when I'm home

Never in a million years expected him to call.... but he did. We went out, had a nice date -- went to a local Irish pub to hear some music, had a few pints..... very low key, but nice all the same. A few days later, I wanted to go into Boston to meet some friends -- and I didn't want to drive.... so I invited the Big Dubya (I know, I wasn't a nice girl at all.... I was using the poor guy for a ride). He agreed to go with me, picked me up and... we had a very nice time. He even helped my tipsy (translation: drunk) friend get home -- she, in her inebriated state, didn't care for his name..... so she said, I'll call you the Big W -- it stuck.

Fast forward to the two year anniversary of that first meeting..... the Big W popped the question -- when I went to work the next day to report my big news, all the girls (who had adopted the name Big W) proclaimed that I was going to be Mrs Big W..... and so it was.

We've been married three and a half years now -- and when we learned we were finally going to be parents -- it only made sense to refer to our bundle as 'Lil W (no, he's not a junior). We toyed with lowercase W, but.... 'Lil W was the name that stuck

Hope you enjoyed my jog down memory lane.....

When a man loves a woman

No, he doesn't send her a Valentine or flowers (well, maybe he does....) he takes a bullet for her -- and today, the Big Dubya took a really big one for me

This afternoon, we took 'Lil Dubya to the pediatrician for his two month check-up (he's up to an impressive 6lbs 15oz) and that meant shots. 'Lil Dubya had spent the majority of the morning miserable, whiney, cranky, needy and a total Mammy's boy -- so bringing him to the doctor was only going to make matters worse. I held him as the nurse weighed & measured him and then the doctor came in to do his examination -- and I held him throughout. Then it a happened, the doctor began preparing to administer the shots -- and with each syringe, the lump in my throat got bigger and bigger, my only hope was that I didn't cry more than my little man -- it was certainly a possibility.

Just as the doctor walked toward me, the Big Dubya stepped in and took the 'Lil Dubya out of my arms -- proclaiming that Daddy would be the bad guy this time. I've never felt so relieved, or so loved -- Dubya didn't have to do it, he could have sat quietly and let me be the bad guy -- mothers take their babies for shots all the time -- but he knew how I was dreading it and how it would break my heart and so he stepped in. He was tough, I know it wasn't easy for him -- but he held our tiny little baby while the doctor stuck him with the shots that made him scream. I couldn't even watch -- I sat in the corner, averted my eyes and cried right along with my tiny little man.....

It may not have been flowers, but..... anybody can buy flowers

A fine time was had by all.....

Sorry for not posting yesterday.... the Big Dubya, 'Lil Dubya & I traveled to our hometown for 'Lil Dubya's christening... it was a fairly stressful day, but in the end -- all missions were accomplished, and I think a fine time was had by all.

The day got off to a bumpy start -- 'Lil Dubya hadn't slept well -- meaning, I didn't either..... fortunately, the Big Dubya had given me the chance to take a desperately needed nap Friday evening, so..... it made the world of difference. Everyone seemed to be a bit out of sorts.... my bro (Uncle R) had some bad ice cubes on Friday night and as a result needed a kind soul to take him to pick up his truck, which had wisely been left behind at a local drinking establishment.... he then had to go purchase a shirt -- as, buying a new shirt is always easier than ironing with a hang-over..... another man-theory I don't understand

Aunt P was doing terrific, until she misplaced her camera, spent an hour looking for it and then found herself way off schedule with no camera. 'Lil Dubya's Granny informed me that her car wouldn't start and that she had called AAA because she doesn't have any "bumper cables" -- I'm just hoping she didn't call them that when she called them for a "bump"..... but in the end, with a little help from Aunt P, the Big Dubya and AAA -- we managed to get everyone back on schedule and where they needed to be.

The 'Lil Dubya's "plumbing" had been a little out of whack the previous couple of days, so I had decided to wait 'til the last possible second to get him dressed..... bright yellow liquid poop doesn't mix so well with the heirloom christening gown belonging to my in-laws.... with all the kids who've been christened in this gown -- it wasn't going to be mine that soiled it.

Almost on cue, 'Lil Dubya had a south-of-the-equator explosion just as we were getting him ready.... so, I changed him quickly and gave him to Granny for a little cuddle-therapy (Grannies are just great at that). On our way out the door, Granny handed him over sheepishly -- there had been another plumbing episode that required immediate attention. I now know why onesies come in packs of 5, because we were moving to #3 in a span of less than 2 hours......

Not wanting to tempt fate, I opted to transport 'Lil Dubya to the church in his onesie -- thinking we could slip him into the gown just before we walk into the church..... and thank God we did.... as onsie #3 wasn't long for this world and would soon be replaced by onesie #4 due to the expulsion of an entire feeding all down 'Lil Dubya's front......

I won't bore you w/ the details of the christening itself, as it was fairly uneventful.... the children in attendance were remarkably well-behaved and the service was lovely. Afterward, we invited everyone to a luncheon at a local restaurant........ and as is the case with large Irish or IrishAmerican families with access to a bar....... there was plenty of laughter, a few tears and some hilarious conversations & storytelling. When the bar bill exceeds the food bill, I think it's safe to assume that people enjoyed themselves..... or drank enough that they won't remember that they didn't.

In any event, we are home now and oh, so happy to be here.....

There's no place like home

Although my parents' house is very comfortable, and they go out of their way to accommodate us when we visit.... there's no place like home.

I'm not even referring to the fact that the Big Dubya and I are relegated to twin beds -- in separate rooms. 'Lil Dubya & I are camped out in the room that used to be Aunt P's and the Big Dubya is in the room that used to be mine..... I packed up all 'Lil Dubya's stuff, and have everything he could possibly ever need (I'm not even sure I have a toothbrush for myself, but...) so it's not like I don't have what we need..... I just feel so scattered.... at home, we have a system -- here..... chaos & confusion

'Lil Dubya senses the lack of structure & routine -- he ended up spending most of the night with me in a twin bed that makes me wonder why Aunt P doesn't have a hump..... we were all up at the crack of dawn.... not because of the baby -- he finally got to sleep around 3, but because of the paper thin shades on the windows....... I miss my room-darkening shades, I miss my kingsize bed, I miss pouring a glass of water and not having an Irish Elf steal it while she "tidies up a wee bit"...... I'll stop whining -- they feed us and let us come & go as we please.....

It's been fun so far -- the Irish Elf (Granny) hung out w/ 'Lil Dubya for a bit last night -- for the first time since we brought him home, I had full use of both my hands while I ate dinner..... it was wonderful :)

Wanted: Godparents for 'Lil Dubya

Tradition holds that the bestman & maid/matron of honor from your wedding will serve as godparents to your first child -- in our case, we're sticking with tradition. For godmother, or as she likes to be called, fairy godmother, we've asked my sister (aka aunt P) to serve as 'Lil Dubya's godmother. For godfather, we've tapped the Big Dubya's brother -- I'll call him Medium J (just to be funny, and because I know he's not a reader).

Like most sisters, P & I have had our fair share of issues -- but through thick & thin (skinny and chubby) I know she's there and that if something were to happen to me, she'd make sure my little man grew up right -- at the end of the day, she's my sister & my best friend and even when I hate her -- I love her -- I think that's the definition of sisters.....

My husband & his brothers have relationships I don't pretend to understand -- I have a sister and a brother -- I speak to P daily..... and I speak to my bro several times a week -- or at least trade phone messages..... the Big Dubya -- can go months without speaking to his brothers -- yet, get them together -- you'd think they were still roommates.

Medium J was kind enough to agree to be godfather -- he has 'Lil Js of his own, but he too would step up and make sure our 'Lil Dubya turned out right. My bro or the Big Dubya's other brother are also excellent candidates -- we are truly blessed to have so many good men to choose from.... (will the sentimental sappiness ever end???)

Just to be sure we made the right selection, we asked Aunt P & Medium J about their child-rearing philosophy -- Aunt P was confused by the question and Medium J admitted that he does whatever his bride tells him to do -- perfect answers -- I'm not sure we could have made better choices :)

When Worlds Collide

This weekend, Mr & Mrs Big Dubya will be heading back to our hometown to host the christening of our pride & joy 'Lil Dubya...... it should be an adventure to say the least.

To begin with (and because I'm a control freak) I booked the church for this event before I even started to show -- I wanted to make sure that I got a date that worked for everyone and that I got a private christening. These days, there is such a shortage of deacons & priests, christenings are done once a month, so there are 10-15 babies done at one time.... meaning 20-30 sets of grandparents, 10-15 sets of parents, countless families, friends, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins..... in other words, it's a bloody zoo -- not at all reverent (or quick).

Fortunately for us, Mrs Big Dubya's family has been very active in the Church for many, many years -- so Granny was able to turn on the Donegal charm, pull some strings and arrange a private ceremony -- meaning that our friends and family need only sit through the christening of one baby in the un-air conditioned church -- rather than an assembly line of all of the babies in the parish.

Sadly, my plans were thwarted exactly one week after 'Lil Dubya's birth -- the church, the beautiful church where I made my first communion, confirmation -- and where I officially became Mrs Big Dubya burned to the ground...... it was a devastating loss to the parish, to the community and to my family -- but.... we must go on. The christening will take place as planned -- in an alternate location -- no, not in the parking lot, although it was tempting.

Events like this are fascinating to me -- it's an opportunity for all of our worlds to collide..... my family, the Big Dubya's family, friends from high school, from college, from our adult life.... all coming together for the christening of our beautiful boy -- mix in some good food and an open bar -- ought to be a hum-dinger.

At this point I will hope that --
My Dad who's entertaining nature can sometimes go to far will behave himself enough to avoid offending my in-laws, who thus far find him to be a hoot -- That 40 lives up to the legendary hype Kara's been hearing about all these years, and that he & my brother wait 'til the end of the night to act up -- That the weather is nice so the kids can run around outside at the after-party my in-laws have so generously offered to host for us -- The food is good & the wine is plenty, Granny's great at helping with 'Lil Dubya :)

The poison known as Tide

When you have a baby -- you freak out about every little thing.... even to go so far as to baby-proof a house for a baby who can't move more than an inch in any direction

Now, I'd like to think that I've been a bit more rational than most new mothers.... yes, at the pediatrician's suggestion I did keep my preemie son away from other small children until he'd gotten a bit bigger -- mostly to protect him from their germs -- but, I didn't make visitors wear masks & gloves, and I have let friends & family hold him.

I did, however, fall into the trap of believing that all his tiny little clothes needed to be washed in the special baby-safe detergent -- as if clothes washed in Tide alongside our clothes would cause him irreparable damage.....

Do you have any idea how much stuff it takes to get a full load of clothes that small???? on the bright side, my child is a genius when it comes to getting the stuff that comes out of his body all over his clothes, his sheets, his blankets.... any fabric that is in close range ends up covered in pee, poop, spit-up.... and the "mystery wet" that is either sweat or some form of the previously mentioned substances.....we just can't always tell or differentiate

In any event, I'll probably continue the madness of baby-segregated laundry -- at least until I've gone through the gigantic jug of Dreft that I bought at BJs -- the rational part (okay, the cheap part) of me can't let it go to waste.... but if there is a 'Lil Dubya #2, I'm not sure we will bother investing in the Dreft

Geee, you look terrific

'Lil Dubya is 8 weeks old -- it'll be 9 weeks on Thursday -- and I am wearing a pair of my own pre-pregnancy shorts -- No, not a pair I borrowed from my thin, but shapelier sister -- No, not a pair I bought to wear in Florida in the early part of my pregnancy last winter -- a legitimate pair of pre-pregnancy shorts that I bought for our Caribbean cruise back in March '04.

I know the shorts don't look fantastic, they are a little snugger than I'd like and I'm not saying that I'm in shape -- but it makes me feel wonderful every time someone tells me I look good considering all I went through (c-section, extended recovery, 'Lil Dubya's extended hospital stay).

Now, the Big W has been terrific -- like a good hubby, he's been very quick to tell me I look good -- and lately, he even says it with a touch of sincerity, which generally means that he is indeed sincere -- but, there is something about a compliment from a stranger that makes you feel greater than great. Whether it be the women in the supermarket or the extended family you haven't seen lately -- it's so nice to hear that you are getting back to your old self.

In fairness, having a small baby also helps increase the number of compliments -- people just assume he's younger than he is because he's so small, but I'll take 'em.