A few things I've learned since becoming a mother

Just thought I'd share a few words of wisdom (?).....

Velcro bibs are a great idea -- that is until a) you try to take them off a sleeping baby (NOISY!!!) and b) until you put them in the washer/dryer...... they tend to stick to and snag everything else in the load... those nice knit blankets in particular.

Baby food (pureed fruits and/or vegetables) stains like crazy. On the bright side, I've saved more than one cute outfit with the Clorox Bleach Pen! (I'd like to thank Cape Buffalo for that tip)

Baby wipes..... are great at taking stains out of our clothes -- they even help rub out deodorant and toothpaste!

The written word

When the Big Dubya and I started dating, much of our courtship was conducted via email. In some ways it sounds quite impersonal -- but it really wasn't.... it more harkened back to the days of letter-writing, which in my humble opinion is a dying art.

In the beginning I remember fretting and laboring over every word -- didn't want to sound disinterested, didn't want to sound over-interested.... didn't want to sound too serious.... didn't want to sound like a flake. I suspect similar consternation was happening on the other end of the carefully worded emails I received in response.

As time went on, we got more comfortable with each other -- and the word/phrase choice became less important. As a result, on more than one occasion one of us would dash out an email and the other would read "voice" or "tone" into the message that simply wasn't there .... and sad to say, a few times it escalated into a full blown argument. "What the hell does "fine" mean, huh?"

I bring this up because, I think many times as bloggers we tend to project "voice" or "tone" into some of the posts and/or comments we read. A perfect example -- it appears that MIM has unintentionally been pissin' off all the fat people out there (just kidding) and she's been getting attacked from every side (hello people, it's a blog.... if you don't like the topic, don't read it!) In some ways, I think she made a big mistake by just posting a couple of thoughts rather than a 750 page dissertation of all the reasons why people gain/lose weight, why people may or may not get depressed and why spouses may/may not mind when their partner balloons up after marriage. Why people can't just take it as food for thought, I don't know -- she has some great arguments -- which are just that...... arguments, theories.... not the rule of law (she's good, she's not that good). I don't agree with everything that she wrote -- but it was thought provoking none the less and made me stop and think about the health of my own body-image and the motivations behind it.

Anyway, the Big Dubya thought he was being a good guy and posted a comment..... intending to throw her some support -- when what he actually ended up doing was insulting the author of a blog that we both really enjoy reading. I'm so glad she got in touch with him -- apparently, what he meant and what he typed were not in the same galaxy at all... and he implored her to remove the comment before he insulted anyone else we like! (Husbands, they just shouldn't be left alone). Anyway MIM was, as always, very gracious -- she removed the post, and accepted his apology -- hopefully we are all good and the international incident was avoided.

The moral of the story.... let's be careful how what we type might be received, 'kay?

Too Cool.....

Our 'lil man has decided that after several months of loving being in his excersaucer..... he's too cool for the inside.... yeah, all he wants to do is walk around the outside.

Sniff, he's getting so grown up.

Adam, how could you do it?

As a sports fan, I'm fairly loyal to a few teams.... my parents came to the United States in the late '60s and their first real exposure to American sports were the '69 Mets. My mother talks of being amazed by the ticker-tape parade and the people of New York celebrating in the street. After moving to the Boston area in the late '70s, my mother became a RedSox fan.... my Dad, he stayed loyal to the Mets. The fall of 1986 was tense in our house....... but we survived.

My Dad took us to a few RedSox games and we got to see the many of the greats play..... I remember him saying that when I grew up, I'd be able to say that I saw Yaz play. That was back when it wasn't all that unusual for a player to spend their entire career with one team.... I think that time has passed.

As fans, we expect the players to be as loyal to their team as we are..... but for them, it's a job -- they are loyal to the team that pays them..... whatever team that happens to be. Cognitively I understand that.... and seeing one player or another depart the home team..... I don't always like it, but it's a fact of life. But some players..... some players you just expect more from.... you expect them to always be there..... when they leave, it's personal.

Which brings me to Adam Vinatieri.... how could he leave us???

Let's make a list of the things I can't do....

Okay, I'm sure I've gone on enough about the mouse.... which still hasn't been caught by the way -- so, instead, I thought I'd highlight one of my shortcomings.....

I cannot fold a fitted sheet..... yes, for some reason, I am unable to learn this task -- which sounds absurdly simple. By the way, apparently I'm not alone -- as I searched for this picture, I found several websites claiming that they could teach me how to accomplish this feat..... who'd a thunk it? what did we do before the internet, huh?

There are many, many more of course, but..... wanna share what you can't do?

Sunday at the Dubyas

11:30 am

Mrs Big Dubya: Honey, wanna beer?
Mr Big Dubya: No, I think I'm all set for now
Mrs Big Dubya (to 'lil Dubya): No sweetie -- Daddy's not a Mary -- Honey, did you teach him that?

Disclaimer: The 'lil man's teething and has kept us up all night for three days..... time of day in our house is irrelevant at this point in time.

I'm being stalked

Okay -- so, I know..... enough about the mouse, but.....

All the traps are empty... it's been over a week. The Big Dubya saw the 'lil bastard on Friday night, but he got away.... we set more traps, but still nothing -- enough already!

So, Saturday, we took the 'lil man to get his 9-month photos done.... I know, picture overkill, but my plan is 3 mos, 6, mos, 9 mos, 1 year, 18 mos, 2 years and then annually after that...... it's just that they just change so much during this first year. I was recalling his 6-month photo session and that he couldn't really sit up on his own.... several boppys were involved in keeping him upright. Here we are, barely 3 months later and he's standing (with the help of a stool of course, but.... standing people!)

We went to the photo place and the 'lil man slept in the car -- when we woke him up he had huge red cheeks and was drooling like water-works, but..... such is life with a teething baby. We got inside and the photographers that work with children are great -- so patient. She got some great shots -- so, we were going over them -- trying to decide what to buy (by the way, black & white remedies much of the red cheek issue -- but doesn't do much for the drool) when a mouse ran right by where we were sitting. HELLOOOO -- what the fuck did I do to the mouse gods, huh? what's next? my car? my office? huh?

Tales of an amateur photo shoot....

So, my parents are right off the boat from Ireland.... our child has a very Irish name (FYI the 'lil Dubya is really just a pseudonym). As a result, I decided to take a St Patrick's Day photo of my 'lil man in his Irish gear..... easier said than done.

The results:

We'll try again later, but in the meantime -- Happy St Patrick's Day!

The Internet.... a blessing? or a curse?

A few years ago, my little Irish mother came to me and said "teach me dot-coms, I want to learn dot-coms" -- apparently she'd been hearing a lot about the internet and email and she wanted to join the fun.

In some ways it was great, it opened up a whole new world to her.... she started emailing her sisters and old friends that she'd lost touch with. Aunt P and I bought her a computer for Christmas and she started monitoring the stock market.... she selects stocks and follows them religiously.... she doesn't buy them, but she keeps an eye on all the prices..... she gets excited when they go up, sad when they go down..... she emails us regularly and I send her pictures of the 'lil man.... all this is terrific.

The problem is the junk..... you know, the chain letters, the jokes, the stuff we all categorize as spam..... this is my mother's bread & butter. Not a day goes by that she doesn't send me some sort of joke or cartoon -- granted, this is a little annoying -- but the part that is really funny is that most of the stuff she sends is smut. That's right -- my little Irish mother sends me dirty, dirty, filthy emails..... AND she sends it to my husband too! She's even taken to sending this crap to my in-laws UGGGGHHHHH.

To add insult to injury.... most of the time, she's so naive and innocent -- she doesn't even understand the joke -- but she likes to be part of the fun, so...I suppose it's harmless.

This is was in today's somewhat vanilla batch....

EEEEEEEK! (Part III)

Okay..... so here we are.... 97 hours since the last critter sighting..... and.... still nothing.... all the traps are empty..... UGGGHHHHH

I apologize for the vulgar language used in my last post.... I like to think that it's atypical..... I don't like to let that side of me slip out..... I've been making an effort to clean up my language, apparently -- I haven't been all that successful..... but, I've got a 9 month old baby who loves to play, lie and/or roll-around on the floor.... and for the past 97 hours, I have not wanted him down there. The only thing that gets me more freaked than the fact that a mouse may or may not be living in my house.... is the thought of that fucking thing getting anywhere near my precious little boy.

Okay.... anyway -- the traps are still empty -- and on some level that should make me happy..... but no, I'm just pissed off..... all the time.

I'm paranoid -- I'm constantly thinking that I see something, or hear something -- but it's a shadow, or a sheet of paper, or the ice shifting in a glass of water. The Big Dubya has been very kind during my hysteria..... he pretends that I'm not being over the top, but I know it.... I am.....he knows it too. I've even gone so far as to make him inspect my shoes before I put them on.... I've heard mice like to live in or burrow in shoes.

EEEEEEEK! (Part II)

So, here we are.... Saturday morning.... roughly 40 hours since the last sighting, and..... the traps are still vacant. Part of me is relieved.... if the traps are still vacant, that must mean that there's only one.... maybe two......, or maybe there was one, and he left.... they can do that, right? Hey you, stop laughing -- You just shut the fuck up, this is how my logic works and I'm not in the mood for your pin-head comments ass face.

But the other part of me is saying...."the fucking traps are still fucking empty.... that fucking little bastard is still running around my god-damned house!"

I'm jittery.... I'm constantly thinking that I see something, but.... it's nothing..... I think I need a tranquilizer.

EEEEEEEK!

I was shocked to see that the topic of Big Dubya's post was the 'lil guys simulated sex thrusts, rather than our new tenant.... the one that doesn't pay rent and is very, very, very unwelcome. Yes, last night while I was sitting on the couch tapping away on this very laptop, I let out a shriek that is usually reserved for cartoon damsels. I saw a mouse scurry across our kitchen.

I swear to God dear readers, our house can get cluttered from time to time, but it is not -- I repeat it is not dirty...... Aunt P, Cape Buffalo..... they'll vouch for me, they've been here. But, I know what you are thinking..... it's the first thing I think of when I hear about mice, or bugs.... I think the house must be dirty. In reality, we just live in a rural area -- so these types of things are to be expected from time to time..... but it is UNACCEPTABLE!

So, I'm sitting on the couch and I see the 'lil buggar..... I screamed.... and then I screamed some more.... the 'lil man was asleep on the couch next to me..... I scared him..... the Big Dubya was upstairs, but came running.... I scared him too. Of course by the time he got to me, the rascal was gone.... gone where? I don't know.... just gone. The Big Dubya ran to Stop & Shop and got some traps..... while he was gone, I called Aunt P...... hoping to distract myself..... but while on the phone with her.... I saw him again...... this time he ran to the fireplace.

The Big Dubya got home and set the traps -- and so we went to bed. This morning, all the traps were vacant...... and as you know, I work from home on Fridays. The Big Dubya left for work and I hid upstairs for as long as I could...... but at some point I had to come downstairs.... the 'lil man needed to be fed.

There have been no more sightings.... the Big Dubya checked the traps again when he got home and nothin'..... so, now we wait.

Maid of Honor..... Matron of Honor..... Chief Bride Slave

So, Aunt P is in the process of planning her big day......

Between our hometown church burning down and her general tendency toward procrastination..... it's taken her quite a while to figure out when and where she was going to get married..... but it appears that she's got her ass in gear and is going to move forward.

She's hoping to keep her wedding small..... and so I wasn't sure if she was going to bother with attendants. I mean, really..... what is the point? Do you really need to dress your closest friends up in matching outfits and seat them down front just so everyone who actually made the "cut" knows who you like the very best? So, I let her know that I'd run her shower & bachelorette party even if she didn't put me in the fluffy dress with the rest of her friends...... I really wouldn't be offended.

Anyway, we've gone wedding gown shopping a few times -- she made her decision and ordered a gown a week or so ago.... but, there was no word on a bridal party, so I figured she'd decided against it. Then, when I arrived home on Sunday.... there was a big box of chocolate covered strawberries on my front step. These weren't just any strawberries.... these things were huge..... ginormous...... these were the size of my head! The Big Dubya read the card aloud:

"I'm not sure if you are free or not, but if you are available on August 12, 2006, I was hoping you'd be my Matron of Honor. No pressure though... Give it some thought. -- your sister"

Of course I am honored to be asked..... but there was no need for a gift.... they were delicious by the way... I'm only a little ashamed to say I had a couple for breakfast on Monday morning...... but, is this the way things are done now? I must have been an awful hillbilly when I planned my wedding..... I took aunt P to lunch and asked her to be my maid of honor..... I think we had a couple of beers.... certainly not as decadent as the beauties that I found on my doorstep.

Anyway, I wasn't sure the proper etiquette for a response respond..... so I sent her back some berries (not nearly as nice I'm sure, but....) of her own with a card

"Yeah, sure"

Well, the week from hell is over

So, we made it through the week..... Granny came to the rescue and took care of the 'lil man so that the Big Dubya & I could get back to work.

I hate to complain about my mother coming to babysit -- she totally bailed us out of a huge jam, but.... you all know me -- even when someone drops everything, drives 3 hours and spends 2 full days watching my sick kid for free..... I can still manage to be snarky and find something to complain about...... so, here it is -- Why is it, that when Granny comes to visit, she feels to the need to show me all the things the 'lil man knows how to do? and then tell me all his likes and dislikes?

I mean, she acts as if this is the first time I'm meeting him..... "Oh Mrs Big Dubya, he really likes apples" and "Oh Mrs Big Dubya, if you hold your hands like this -- he'll reach out for you" and of course, my favorite "Mrs Big Dubya, he isn't feeling well -- he has no appetite" -- Well, geez Ma, why the hell do you think you are here????? He's sick!!

But in the end -- he loves her, and she loves him and everything worked out wonderfully, so....

Nobody loves you like your mother...

So, lately I've been feeling the pull.... the 'lil man's been under the weather. If I'm at work and he's at home w/ the Big Dubya, I feel like a bad mother. If I'm home with him.... I feel like I'm a bad employee.....

It's probably odd that it's taken me so long to get to this point -- probably due in large part to the Big Dubya who's taken the hit every time the 'lil man's needed one of us -- Dubya's dutifully gone to his aid every time..... and I've remained at work. This week was just the perfect storm.... we are both just stretched too thin and can't miss any more work, but the 'lil man -- although much better -- isn't 100% and should stay home.

I'm so bad at asking for help -- I like to think I'm independent, that I can manage my life.... but yesterday, I got to the breaking point -- I didn't know what else to do....... so, I did it, I broke down and called my mom. Who else would answer such a call with a, "I'll be there by dinner time, and I'll stay 'til Saturday" When she arrived last night the only thing she was missing were her tights, mask & cape -- Super Granny to the rescue!

I think I'm about to be fired

Well, no, not really, but......

I'm a type-A..... it's annoying I know, but that's me. I've been in my current job almost 3 years and have never once called in sick..... not even during my 9 months of pregnancy which included 5 months of all-day-sickness. I get close-to stellar performance reviews.... I meet my due dates and my deadlines -- my clients love me -- I'm generally a model employee...... low maintenance.

That all ended about a month ago. I thought I had the whole working-mother thing nailed -- I really did. The 'lil man's had some head colds and some tummy bugs...... and anytime he needed to stay home, the Big Dubya handled it. He works in the family-friendly non-profit world..... he works in a place where people put their families first and they understand that children get sick, and parents need to stay home with them.

I work in the corporate world..... the man's world. I've been somewhat successful in my career and have worked my way up to what I guess you could call upper-middle-management.... if there is such a thing.... almost everyone at my level is a man.... or a woman who has, for one reason or another, has decided not to have a family. All of these men have wives who stay home with their children -- so staying home with a sick child is a non-issue for them.

Well here we are..... the 'lil man is still fighting this tummy bug.... we've been to the doctor.... it's just a virus and needs to run its course. The Big Dubya has started to feel the strain.... even in a family-friendly workplace, you don't want to go to the well too many times..... and he feels he's at that point. So, I stayed home on Monday -- I wanted to keep him home yesterday, but we sent him to daycare --- only to have him sent home and I'm home with him today. Normally, I wouldn't feel too bad about calling in twice in one week.... but did it have to come on the heels of my Vegas debacle? or did it have to fall the week they are finalizing bonuses & pay raises?

I guess the bottom line is that my job is important to me.... and being a top performer is important to me, but neither will ever be more important than my 'lil man...... so, I guess if I get penalized for missing too much time.... well, that's the way it goes, huh?