i know so many library science majors who are very disappointed in me.

I've been checking out books at the library lately and it's been a good thing.  I'm still reading New Yorkers from July, no!  August!!  but I've wanted to start Henry on good library etiquette at an early age. 

Here's the thing.  I suck at libraries. 

Wait. 

I suck at deadlines. 

And libraries have these things they like to call, "due dates."  I am a procrastinator by trade so I always wait until the last minute to read the book and then I wait until I get the email telling me my book is late and then I go online to renew the loan and then I get really pissed when someone else placed a hold on my book and I can't renew it and I'm only on page 150 of the 900 page book. 

The really bad part is that my local library does not have late fees.  This is good because I can still afford to read books.  This is bad because I'm probably going to be the reason they enact late fees when they make their budget for 2012.  Maybe if the library threatened my credit score I would read the book on time? 

The last couple times I took Henry to the library we had to leave because he thought he could enjoy the library like he enjoys his bookshelf at home.  I have a feeling the only thing I'm teaching Henry is how to get banned from his local library.

things i don't understand. today.

Why is it that different brands of string cheese are different?  I believe string cheese should be string cheese.  Are you listening, Kroger?  Your string cheese sucks.

How is it that I can go through most of my life feeling confident and able to raise my son and then I think of one person and feel worthless?  I'm pretty sure I'm not able to take care of myself, let alone raise my son on my own.  I can't even buy the right string cheese.

Why does Henry think it's hilarious when I throw his stuffed animals on the floor?  Will his little friend that was here yesterday ever want to come back after witnessing this act of hilarity and not understanding it? 

Where do all the babysitters go around Christmas?  I just need one.  That's all.  Just one. 

my favorite thing.

Sometimes when Henry is playing he will stop, crawl/walk over to me and give me a big cuddle and kiss, laugh and then go back to playing as if nothing ever happened.

Best thing ever.

livin' on the edge.

But not in an Aerosmith kind of way.

In an, "I'm so tired and stressed and alone (as in single parent) and wound up that one more teeny tiny thing will make me lose my shit and it will not be pretty" kind of way. 

Seriously.  If anyone is listening, please, for the love of all that might be holy, cut me a fucking break.

Also, if anyone is listening, please, I don't want anyone else to die.

a beautiful way to start the day.

I'm not a big John Denver fan but this song has become my morning prayer. 



My friend is sick and last night she survived surgery that will give her weeks, maybe months, to live as opposed to days.  She re-introduced me to this song and every time I listen I am reminded that I have much to be grateful for and I give thanks. 

All this joy, indeed. 

i can't sleep because my son is adorable.

Every day I am amazed at what Henry understands.  Like a few weeks ago when my friend was visiting and I asked Henry if he wanted to show her his bird book and he immediately crawled over to his bird book. 

Or lately I ask Henry if he's hungry and he walks/crawls over to his chair.  I have to be careful about this one because he'll always say he's hungry, even if he ate a few minutes ago. 

Or this evening I mentioned he might get a bath and he got this huge smile on his face and took off for the bathroom.  I wasn't sure I wanted to give him a bath tonight because I was exhausted and it can be a lot of work but after seeing how happy he was, I had to do it!  Then as the bathtub was filling up, he totally tried to take his clothes off but that didn't work very well and he just got stuck.  But he was still happy because he knew he would be playing in the water soon. 

Or when he does stuff just to make himself laugh.  I love that the most.  He thinks it's hilarious to turn off the music on one of his toys.  He practically begs me to turn it on so I do and then he immediately turns it off and screams with laughter.  The more surprised I am the harder he laughs. 

Tonight I can't sleep because I'm thinking about all the wonderful things Henry is doing and the little boy he is turning into and oh yeah, he's snoring super loudly and I'm considering turning off the monitor but his snoring is really adorable so instead I'm listening to it and laughing.

I am the luckiest woman in the world.

parades are exhausting. or not.

Henry has been sucking at taking naps in the afternoon lately.  Wait.  I take that back.  If I lay down with him, he's all about taking a nap.  Who has time to take a nap with their kid every afternoon?  Seriously.  I wish I had that kind of time.  Anyway, he's feeling a little better today, not as snotty and he doesn't have a black eye like I thought he would (that's another story for another post) so I decided we'd get a start on our Christmas shopping this afternoon. 

We went to the mall and I'm pretty sure Henry thought we were a one float parade.  And his stroller was the one float.  He waved at EVERYONE.  It was hysterical and I couldn't stop laughing.  At one point he wasn't waving at anyone, just waving.  I started calling him Miss America and he didn't even care.  Then I realized duh, he's exhausted.  I knew he wasn't going to get any sleep at the mall so I decided to cut the trip short and head home.  He was so tired he fell asleep while I put his coat on him.  It was pathetic and adorable.  He woke up when I put him in the car and stayed awake for the ride home.  I was okay with that because sometimes he falls asleep in the car for 5 minutes and thinks that is a good enough nap.  So we just got home and he was all cuddly and snuggly and I changed his diaper and sang him his lullabies and laid him down in his crib and he's been jumping up and down and singing ever since. 

Seriously. 

Maybe I should go put his coat on him and he'll fall back asleep? 

overheard in a kitchen today...

niece:  what are you looking for?
grandma:  an ice pack.
niece:  a what? 
grandma:  an ice pack for boobies.  I mean boo boos.  Not boobies.  No.  That would be ... I don't know what that would be.  Boo boos.  Boo boos.
niece:  oh.  I don't think we have one of those. 

and tired.

Today started out great.  Henry stayed in bed and relatively happy until 6 a.m.  We had a lovely breakfast of waffles and cottage cheese and peaches.  Somewhere along the way we got sidetracked and he got snottier and crabbier and I got snottier and crabbier and pretty soon we were both miserable.  You know the kid feels like shit when he finds the saline and tries to shoot it up his nose on his own.  It was adorable and pathetic all at the same time. 

He wanted to go to bed at 5 tonight.  He can't talk yet but I knew he was telling me he was ready when he reached through the slats of his crib, pulled out his blankie, and laid down on the floor with it.  Again with the adorable and pathetic!  He has only gotten up once since then and it was relatively easy to get him back to sleep.  I'm hoping for a good night for both of us.  My back is killing me where I got that stupid, useless epidural.  It burns so badly I can hardly sit up.  Picking him up out of his crib damn near killed me. 

We were supposed to go visit his cousins tomorrow but I am pretty sure we'll remain quarantined at home.  Hopefully I can come up with some fun stuff to do so we don't get too bored.  I'm really hoping for a miracle and I'll wake up to a happy healthy kid and find that I too am happy and healthy. 

sick.

Henry finally got over his cold at the end of last week.  After several nights of sitting up with him and worrying about him and watching him, I was so happy we were both able to get some rest. 

He came home from visiting with his dad yesterday and was snotty again.  He's sick.  Again. 

I feel so bad for him, he can barely breathe out of his adorable little nose.  He can't sleep because he wants that goddamn pacifier and he can't breathe with it in his mouth so he spits it out and then he wakes up because he wants it again.  His pediatrician stopped by tonight for unrelated business but she checked in on him and gave me some suggestions to make him more comfortable. 

He'll be fine.  I will stay awake for the rest of my life to make sure he's fine. 

I just hope I make it through this without losing my mind.  Stuck at home again with a sick kid and no sleep... I guess this is what parenting is all about.  The good is oh so good and the bad, well, I'll tell myself it isn't so bad and eventually I'll believe it.

He is more than worth it. 

snow day!

Henry is way excited about not having school today.  Also, as soon as he gets up from his nap and eats some lunch, he's going for a toboggan ride.  So far, he's enjoyed toboggan rides but he thinks they are missing a little something...

Many thanks to his Grammy Anne and Grampy Peter for the fantastic birthday gift!

much thanks giving.

I can't believe Henry and I celebrated our second Thanksgiving with our family!  Time has flown by at warp speed.  We had a blast and there was lots of reminiscing about how things were last year - the good and the bad. 

Unfortunately, Henry started coming down with a cold the night before Thanksgiving and he is still not feeling well.  I thought he was a lot better this afternoon but tonight has been an absolute nightmare.  I've been up most of the night with him every night since Wednesday so I was really looking forward to a quiet night tonight.  He's so congested and his poor little adorable nose is so stuffed up that he can't sleep when he is laying down.  He will sleep in his car seat for a little while but it must be pretty damn uncomfortable because it doesn't take long for him to wake up and yell, "Mom mom!  Mom mom!!  MOM MOM!!!" until I come get him.  Then I bring him to bed with me and cuddle with him until it's time to get up in the morning. 

Instead of complaining about the lack of sleep for four and now probably five nights in a row, I am going to focus on the good parts. 

When Henry doesn't feel well, he only wants me to hold him.  Not his gma, not his gpa.  It's mom mom or he's not happy.  There is nothing better than that! 

When he is sleeping on my chest or next to me, I just stare at his beautiful face and am amazed that I had a part in it.  A pretty big part. 

As he falls asleep, he usually needs to be holding one or two of my fingers.  He plays with them and I can tell when he's asleep because he stops playing and just holds on for dear life.  I'm not sure how he has figured out how to have a death grip while fast asleep. 

When he wakes up in the morning next to me, he is really well rested and one of the most cheerful people you will ever meet.  Lots of smiles and giggles and mom mom's. 

He likes to fake cough.  If he hears me cough, he totally mocks me and coughs and then cracks up.  This has come in very handy while he's had this cold.  I can hear his little chest rattle and I can tell he needs to cough but he hasn't quite figured that out yet. All I have to do is cough and next thing I know, he's mocking me and coughing and yay!  The rattle in his chest is gone. 

Even though he doesn't feel well and is coughing and snotty and sometimes has a fever, he is happy.  He plays and laughs and smiles and pretends to feed you a Cheerio but at the last minute takes it back and sticks it in his own mouth and cracks up.

He's more cuddly.  I hate cuddling everyone but him.  I actually wish he was more cuddly.  I really wish it didn't take him being sick to make him more cuddly. 

Henry and I have a lot to be thankful for, even being sick.  I guess. 

little birdie is about to leave the nest.

Henry loves walking around the house with his alphabet train.

From November 2011

I apologize for the shakiness, I was walking around with the little handheld camera.

no photos today.

Every once in a while the lack of sleep catches up with me and I have.  to.  sleep.  Today is one of those days.  This afternoon I had my mom watch Henry for a little while so I could run about 5 bags of his clothes to a local homeless shelter for families and pick up some paint for a little furniture project.  On the way home I was sitting at a red light and thought, "I'll just blink extra long.  Just for a second..." and then the car behind me was honking because the light turned green and I was still blinking.  Ooops. 

So no birthday party photos today.  Sorry! 

This morning Henry called the cat over to him by making his version of a "meow" sound and patting the couch, just the way I pat the couch when I want her to come over.  It was adorable and amazing all at the same time.  And it worked.  She was stupid enough to fall for it.  She came over and was immediately tackled with a face-full of Henry right into her side. 

and then one happened.

I felt like I was doing so well with posting.  Every day.  Sometimes twice a day. 

And then Henry turned one.  And I am pretty sure I have spent every moment since then chasing him and laughing with him and having a blast. 

Hopefully he'll actually take a nap sometime in the near future and I'll be able to post photos of his party and some photos of him playing with his new toys!

I still can't believe that just one year ago my life was so different than it is now.  Everyone told me, "Everything changes when you have a kid.  Your life will never be the same."  Because everyone said it, I got annoyed and told myself I would be the same person, just with a little version of myself and more luggage when I traveled and less sleep.  The thing about these cliches about parenting is that they are right.  The other day I almost punched myself in the face when I was talking to a friend who doesn't have kids about changing diapers.  She said she would never be able to change a poopy diaper because they're so gross.  I came very very very perilously close to saying, "It's different when it's your kid."  I caught myself and instead I told her that poopy diapers are disgusting and shit is gross whether it is your kid's or somebody else's kid.  But when it's your kid, you do it because they need you to do it and you will do anything for them.  I can't even begin to list the things I have done that I never thought I would do.  But when I look at Henry, I'm 100 percent sure the list hasn't even begun. 

It's so crazy to think that a year ago, I was in a hospital bed waiting for my life to change.  Wanting him out of my body and so excited to meet him.  But I had no idea what I was in for.  I couldn't begin to imagine what my life, our lives, would be like in one year.  Even if I tried, I never would have imagined it would be this good.

sigh.

I'm planning a little get together for Henry's birthday on Saturday.  I am so excited to celebrate the first year of Henry's life and I know he is going to have a blast with his friends and family.  What I didn't expect was that it would bring up so much stuff for me.  So much has happened in the past year.  So much good and unfortunately, so much bad.  Most days I can focus on the good because it is really damn good.  I still have moments where my breath catches in the back of my throat because I still can't believe this is my life. 

The first year is obviously full of firsts.  Most of these firsts that Henry and I have experienced together have been amazing and thrilling and terrifying, all at the same time.  Some of them have been laced with sadness and while I put on a happy face for Henry and those around us, I'm dying inside.  This isn't how it was supposed to be.  And then I feel bad for feeling that way because truthfully it has been really fucking good, so what do I have to complain about?   

Nothing.  Everything.  I've decided that life is like that.  I am not in a place where I can say I'm glad this happened and that it's how things were supposed to be.  But I can happily say that I have done the best with what I was given and the sad moments occur less and less as time goes by.  I also feel like getting through his first year with flying colors has given me confidence and hope and faith for the future.  And really, all that matters is that Henry is happy.  He is healthy.  His cuteness is not a fucking joke.  He is everything to me and I would do this all again to get to spend one moment in his presence.  Well, maybe not all of it... 

Anyway...
 
Now I just hope I can get everything on my party planning list done before Saturday afternoon.  I'll be sure to post photos of Henry eating his first cake!  Yummmmm....

what a difference a year makes.

This photo was taken one year ago today.  I was so tired of being pregnant.  I kept going on walks to try to get something going.  It was really cold that day so my parents and I ended up going over to the conservatory on Belle Isle.  By that time I wasn't going to work anymore because I was so uncomfortable.  And yes, I'm wearing leggings in this photo.  I wore them a lot.  Did I mention how uncomfortable I was by this time last year?  This is one of the few photos I have of me while I was pregnant.  After my life changed in August, I didn't want anyone to take photos of me.  I just felt ugly and gross and it wasn't a time I wanted to remember.  Luckily a few people told me to shut up and smile and I'm so glad they did because I look at them and am amazed at how different and wonderful my life is now!  I don't wear leggings anymore!

 

(Okay here's a small confession, two weeks after Henry was born I was able to get back in my regular clothes.  Yay!  But I kept those damn leggings thinking I could get away with wearing them.  They were soooo comfortable.  But no.  I couldn't.  So I didn't.  I swear.)

And here we are today.  This morning at 5:30 a.m. I was entertaining my almost 1-year-old son with Cheerios towers.  I made the mistake of stacking some Cheerios a couple days ago and now he wants me to do it all the time.  I guess it wasn't a mistake because he loves it but have you ever tried to stack Cheerios up one by one?  It isn't as easy as you might think.  Oh and you have to do it really quickly because a little hand is about to come and knock down your hard work and eat it and then laugh really hard.  My record is a 7 Cheerio tower. I didn't get a photo of it.  Bummer.

And then here is a photo of Henry and his best kitty friend, Barbaro Garbey.  She was just minding her own business watching her chipmunk friend on the front porch when Henry decided to join in on the fun.  He usually likes to watch the chipmunk too but if Barbaro Garbey is there he'd much rather practice "gentle" by smacking her upside the head a few times.  Don't worry, when he gets too rough I yell, "RUN BARBARO!  RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!" and she usually just gives me the stink eye and waddles away.   

dear henry,

I'm not sure why your internal clock is telling you to wake up between 4 and 5 a.m. every day and then practically fall asleep in my arms after breakfast, but I am asking you very nicely to please reset that internal clock.  Mom-mom isn't very good at falling asleep lately, she has lots of crazy shit going on in her brain, and she usually falls asleep around 3 or 3:30.  I know you don't wake up because you are hungry or because you go to sleep too early in the evening because there have been a couple nights this past week where you have stayed up late and eaten late and you still wake up at 4 a.m.  So yeah.  Please look into that, especially since clocks are changing on Saturday so 4 a.m. will be the new 3 a.m.  I seem to remember there was a time in my life where an extra hour was the best thing ever.  Now it's just another hour I don't get to sleep.  So let's just wake up at 7 and forget that morning nap!

One more thing, the next time you decide to blow raspberries in my face with a mouth full of rice cereal/squash/corn mixture, I probably won't laugh so hard.  I mean, I might because it was so unexpected and the looks of surprise on both our faces was funny.  And it's just rice cereal so it's not like I minded when specks of it dried on my face and hair and hours later I was still picking it out because jumping in the shower seemed like too much work.  Seriously though.  It's cute but it's not so cool.

Wait.  One more thing.  I promise this is it.  I know you had a rough night tonight and I'm not sure why.  I know you don't have words to tell me your tummy hurts or your mouth hurts or you just feel like kicking someone's ass.  But here's the thing, when you're supposed to be going to sleep and you're in your room screaming bloody murder, I'm not going to go in when every few minutes you take a break from screaming to say in the sweetest voice ever, "la la la la mom-mom la la la."  That little break there let's me know you're fine and that you're a big faker and you're just pissed that you spit your pacifier out for the 10th time and I stopped replacing it.  And don't try to convince me you weren't tired because you could hardly stand up and you tried to cuddle with the big plastic container that holds a bunch of your toys.  And when I finally did take you a replacement pacifier, you fell asleep before I could run out of your room again. 

Henry, I love you more than anything and you make me so happy to be alive. 

Love,
Mom-mom

hipster haven.

I recently took Henry to Impression 5 to check out their baby play room.  It was a really cold, rainy afternoon and we just needed to get out of the house for a while.  I was really impressed by the room.  It was full of fun things for him to do and he wasn't shy about exploring the different areas.  Since it was such a shit day outside, many many other parents decided to bring their babies to the play room.  I was miserable.  It has been really difficult for me to meet other parents.  I have found that being a parent is very lonely.  At a time when I feel we as parents need to support one another, instead we are constantly eying each other up and judging everything the other does.  I wish I could say I don't do it but I do.  Worse yet, I feel it from everyone I meet.  As you may know, hipsters hold a special place in my cold dark heart.  Let's just say it isn't a good place.  Hipster parents are even worse.  I had to make a new compartment in my cold dark heart just for them.  At least 5 parents told me how advanced their child was.  I didn't even have to ask!  Then one of the hipster dads who had a few minutes before nonchalantly mentioned that his kid is way too advanced for this room, asked me how old Henry was and I told him 11 months.  He said, "Oh that was the age my son was when we started to worry that he wasn't crawling.  So much for milestones!"  Wait.  He's advanced but now you tell me he didn't crawl at 11 months?  There I go judging.  But really?  I just said, "oh" because what I really wanted to say was, "It's okay to teach your kid that taking a shower and washing your hair is a good thing you dirty dirty hipster."  I thought maybe I would make a connection with a mom who was wearing a Detroit Lions shirt.  Yay!  My people!  Wrong again.  Her hipster friend came over and made a snide comment about her shirt and I heard her say, "It was only a quarter at Goodwill!" (Nothing against Goodwill, I just love the Detroit Lions and I thought maybe we had something besides Goodwill shopping in common). 

Basically it was an awful experience for me.  I wanted to hide from all the parents because each time I tried to say hi or make conversation, I think they sensed I was judging them too and had nothing to add to their conversation about latching and home births. 

Maybe it was because while Henry was playing with this toy, I couldn't stop talking to him about all the balls bouncing to the left and to the right.  I was cracking my shit up and he thought it was funny too although I think by the time I took this photo he was a little over it.  Hipsters don't think balls are funny maybe?

I realized that I was okay with not being one of their crowd when the father of the advanced kid who couldn't crawl when he was 11-months old pretty much yelled for the entire room to hear, "ISHMAEL!  We have to go now because daddy has to get back to work on his thesis!" 

Oh blue-eyed, blonde-haired Ishmael.  If you ever need to have some fun, feel free to come over and talk balls with Henry and I.  Good luck kiddo.  You're gonna need it.

(I do plan on taking Henry back to Impression 5 because there really is a ton of stuff for him to do and he had a lot of fun.  I overheard one of the employees say that the room was basically empty until 10:30 so maybe we'll go at 10, have some alone time and then when more kids come Henry can play with them for a while and then when I lose my shit at 10:35 and want to roll my eyes very dramatically right in the faces of all the parents and instead we should just leave, at least he's had some interaction with other kids even though they are dirty dirty miniature hipster kids.  I think it's okay for hipster kids to be dirty though.  Kids should be dirty.  Well, I mean, I guess there's a limit there, too.  There I go judging again.  Maybe I just don't want to admit that I have more in common with the hipsters than I think?  No, I'm pretty sure I had nothing to add to any of the conversations I was eavesdropping on.  And I'm pretty sure I'm okay with that.) 

(The next weekend I met up with some friends from high school and their kids.  We were going to to Boo at the Zoo but didn't end up getting in because the line was so long.  We ended up hanging out at a huge pile of leaves outside the entrance while their kids, I think the youngest one was 5, played in the leaves and we stood around and chatted.  I mentioned that Impression 5 seemed to be hipster haven and one of them said, "Oh so that's where they all go."  I wasn't sure if that meant they wanted to join them or not so I added a very tentative, "Yeah I didn't really fit in."  and another one said, "If you want the opposite go to Hawk Island (a park where I love to take Henry) and there you'll find a ton of single parents screaming at their kids."  Me:  "Great!  I'm a single parent!"  Them:  "Oh.  Uh. I mean a bunch of women with kids from different dads."  Me:  "Awesome!  If I have another kid it will have a different dad!"  Them:  "Oh no, I mean like, FOUR different dads."  This is why I hate people.)

where i write 'box' far too many times.

Today I sorted out a bunch of the toys Henry is too old for and put them in an empty diaper box.  He has a toy box in the living room that is exploding with toys and I know he doesn't play with all of them anymore and I wanted to make room in case he gets one or two or twenty new toys on his birthday.  I was still trying to figure out where I am going to store the box of old toys when Henry woke from his nap so I just left the box in the living room.  He came out and as we were playing, he decided to climb on top of the box in order to get to the cat on the couch.  The box buckled under his weight and he kept sliding off but he kept trying.  Pretty soon the box started to tear and fall apart. 

Imagine my horror when I heard these words escape my lips:
"Oh Henry!  You are destroying mommy's box.  Please stop shredding my box, I don't have another box to put the toys in!"

I stopped.  Thought about what I said and just about died laughing.  Henry stopped climbing and just looked at me like I was batshit insane. 

Then I tried to explain that he wasn't in trouble or anything and that since I had a c-section he didn't really destroy my box and yes, it's true, I don't have another box but it's okay because mommy's box is just fine. 

And then I laughed some more and he took off to play in the street.

happy halloween!

I haven't been this excited about Halloween in a very long time.  When I lived in Detroit it was almost stressful because it didn't matter how many ginormous bags of candy I bought at Costco, I was going to run out.  Also, leaving my house pretty much open for several hours at night was a little unsettling.  I mean, kids in costumes.  You just never know.  They might ask for candy or something.  I know, I'm an asshole. 

Henry must have also been excited about Halloween because he actually took an afternoon nap when I wanted him to so he would be awake for trick-or-treating.  It was a Halloween miracle!

Here we are practicing trick-or-treating.  We don't get very many trick-or-treaters, hence the full size candy bars.  I know he looks annoyed but it's just because he is so advanced that he didn't need to practice and just wanted to hit the road. 

We had a great time and got to see lots of the neighbors and kids and it was a perfect night for trick-or-treating.

This is Henry saying, "Really, mom?  Gluten free cheese crackers?" as he was checking out his loot.  I guess those are the 2011 version of the popcorn balls of my childhood.  Henry is already starting to learn life's difficult lessons. 

i have been a bad mom.

My good camera is broken and I haven't taken as many photos as I probably should have and it makes me sad.  So I've been trying to make up for it by taking at least a photo every day.  In the meantime, I know I haven't posted many photos here so I'll try to catch up.  Here's a couple from September...

I especially like this one because you can see his two bottom teeth. 

big day.

It was a big day of firsts around here today.  First trick-or-treating.  First hair cut.  First scary movie marathon while napping on the couch with Uncle D. 

I know all I talk about is how tired I am but holy shitballs, Batman, mama is walking dead right now.  I would love to go to bed right now but first I have to post photos of such an amazing day with Henry.  Then I have to read the library book that was due today and I scandalously did not return it because I'm not done reading it!  I know the right thing to do would have been to just return the book and check it out again later but here's the thing... I tried to renew it online but I can't because someone else placed a hold on it.  And I was supposed to get the book at the end of September because I placed a hold on it and I didn't get it until a couple weeks ago because someone didn't return it when they were supposed to.  At least that's what I thought until when I really looked at the book, I realized it is brand spanking new.  So why should I return the book on time when the library will just buy a new one for the next person that has the hold?

No.  I don't really believe that will actually happen which is why I will stay up late tonight trying to finish the book so I can return it tomorrow and it will be there to be handed off to the next person on Monday morning.

Whatever.  I know you're only here for the photos of my kid and not for my library existential crisis.

We started off our morning with this beautiful sunrise.  Oh wait, no we didn't.  We started off our morning at 5 a.m. when it was pitch black.  Then we took a nap at 6 a.m. and got up again at 8 and then we saw this beautiful sunrise.  What?  I'm not bitter. 

We met my sister-in-law and her kids and headed to their local mall for some trick-or-treating hell just because you know, I loooooove huge crowds of screaming kids all on sugar highs.  Henry's cousin, Jonas, wanted to push Henry in the stroller but his mom wouldn't share.  We're working with her on this sharing concept.  I'll let you know how it goes.  

The mall has a carousel and Henry's g-pa sent money along with me to make sure the kids got to ride.  The carousel was in the food court which was also where the costume contest was taking place which meant all of the screaming sugar high kids were in one place with mingling fast food greasy odors.  Luckily the screaming brats didn't care about the carousel so we had it almost all to ourselves.  I get motion sick pretty easily but I have never had a problem on carnival rides or any kind of rides until today I realized that I hadn't ever been on a carnival ride inside a building.  I normally wouldn't post such an awful photo of myself but this pretty much sums up how I felt.  And the photo makes me laugh and I never want to pass up an opportunity to laugh.  

Henry had a long day which was mostly his fault because instead of napping, he would lay in his pack n play and SCREAM bloody murder until someone went and rescued him.  He finally fell asleep on the couch and when I went to get him later he and his Uncle D were watching scary movies.  Well, his uncle was watching scary movies and Henry was facing the other way making faces and blowing raspberries at his uncle.  Because it was such a long day I didn't think we would have time to cut his hair but I'm pretty sure his loooong hair was driving his aunt coconuts so she decided to cut it after he ate dinner.  I'm glad she did because he really was getting the beginnings of an SABM (Sweet Ass Baby Mullet).  This is the before...

 This is the during...

And oh.  Sorry.  You have to wait for an after photo!  I was in such a hurry to pack stuff up and hit the road to head home, I didn't get an after photo with just Henry and I'm not sure his aunt, uncle, cousins and their dogs would be so happy with me posting their photos.  He did really well during the haircut and didn't cry at all!  And I know it seems difficult to imagine but he is even more handsome than he was before.  Awwwww...

Shit.  Pretend you didn't see that other photo with Henry's cousins.  I'm too tired to go back and photoshop them out. 

baseball and religion

Me: Josh Hamilton said God told him he'd hit a 2-run homer last night.

My dad: Did God also tell him they'd lose the game?

Me: Nope. Dad, don't you know the lord works in mysterious ways?

something i miss about my past life that i never considered i would miss.

Cooking.

I miss cooking.

I had a great kitchen.  There was lots of room.  I had lots of spices and crap to cook with and an internet full of recipes to try.

Most of the time I was frustrated by cooking for two, there were always way too many leftovers and cooking just seemed like an awful lot of work for just the two of us.  My kitchen stuff is in boxes in the basement and I miss it.  My parents cook almost all of the meals for us which is great because I'm busy chasing Henry and playing and having fun.  Even if I do cook, it isn't the same because I am using their stuff and it's old and it's not the same as my stuff and I find myself looking forward to having my own kitchen again. 

I think if I had my own kitchen tomorrow, I would make spicy macaroni and cheese.  It was one of my favorites.  I'm too lazy/tired to find the recipe and link to it right now but maybe I'll do that tomorrow and someone out there can make it.

Yummmmmmmm!!!!

wait. one more thing.

My epidural site has been hurting more and more every day.  Is this normal?  I would go see a doctor but I'm about to lose my health insurance and I don't want to find out I'm about to be paralyzed and not be able to do anything about it.

It's a good thing Henry is the best kid ever or I'd be really pissed that the stress I was under when growing him in my uterus and then getting him out of my uterus and then raising him alone has wrecked my body.  I have never been so unhealthy in my life.  Ugh.

sick.

Henry is sick.  I am getting sick.

I'm not having any fun.

well, duh.

This afternoon I walked in the kitchen and my mom had Henry on her lap and they were playing with a calculator.  I asked how the math lesson was going and my mom said, "We aren't doing math.  We're texting.  Just because our phone isn't as fancy as your phone doesn't mean what we have to say isn't important."
 

another post about sleep. i mean no sleep.

I hear every noise Henry makes during the night, usually I'm still awake because of the crazy bad insomnia but when I am asleep, I sit up and wait to figure out whether or not I need to go in and soothe him or if he can do it himself.  Last night I actually fell asleep earlier than usual and was a little frustrated when I heard him start to cry at 1 a.m.  It was one of his more desperate cries and I knew that if I waited too long, he'd wake up all the way and it'd be difficult to get him back to sleep.  I went and grabbed a clean pacifier and by the time I went in his room, he was starting to stand up in his crib.  I stuck the pacifier in his mouth and picked him up to give him a cuddle (I usually don't do this because I don't want him to think he's always going to get cuddles if he cries!).  He wasn't really awake, just kind of awake.  I was kind of frustrated because I was so tired I could hardly stand up.  Then, as he snuggled under my chin he started whispering, "mom-mom-mom," which wasn't so easy to do with a pacifier in his mouth.  He reached up to stroke my hair and fell asleep and I wished I could stand there with him in my arms forever. 

tired thoughts

Most days are good.

Some days are bad.

I can't sleep and it's making me physically ill.

Today I am having a "I can't do this alone" kind of day. I just look at Henry and am overwhelmed by his awesomeness and how it's happened despite me and not because of me. My heart breaks at all the ways I could have done better for him and he isn't even a year old.

I wish autocorrect on my phone would stop changing "me" to "ms."

Henry appears to really enjoy Coldplay. I'm not sure how that happened or how I feel about it.

Our best dance party yet (we have one almost every day) has been Queen. Bicycle Race.

dear henry's teeth,

Please come in soon because I am tired of my sweet baby being in pain. I do enjoy all the cuddling he needs but I know he'd rather be playing and feeling good. Also, the drooling is gross and I could use a break from that. And the chewing on any and everything he can find is also getting pretty old so yeah, could you please hurry?

Love,
Henry's mom-mom

p.s. How adorable is it that he calls me mom-mom? Ugh I can't get enough of this kid and I just want him to be healthy and happy. So yeah. His mouth needs to feel better. Now.

so where was i?

This is the beginning of my labor and delivery story.  It's been a long time since I've even thought about it but something came up today and my mom and I were reminiscing about some of the crazy shit that happened.  I realized I never finished telling my story.  Part of me thinks I should just drop it, nobody cares anyway.  Part of me wants to tell it because I'm forgetting parts of it and that's okay, I'm sure there are parts that I want to forget.  I also want to remember because it's the beginning of Henry and I.  The good thing for you is that since I have forgotten a lot, it is possible this will be a very short story.  Or not.

So here we go...

It seems like I went from not having contractions to all of a sudden I had them all the time and they hurt really bad.  I'm sure it was more gradual than that but they came on pretty quickly because of the drugs.  I told the nurse very early on that I didn't want any pain so give me drugs.  Apparently it was a busy night in L&D and everybody wanted drugs because the anesthesiologist took her sweet time getting to me.  When she finally showed up, she apologized for taking so long and said I was the last one on her list and man she was exhausted.  I probably should have accepted her apology but instead I strangled her with her fanny pack.  I didn't care about apologies or explanations or excuses, I just wanted her to stick that damn mile-long needle into my spine.  They kicked my parents out of the room and for those of you who have been through this, you'll remember the oh-so-fun part of bending over your ginormous belly and not moving at all even if a contraction comes because the needle is going to paralyze you if you even blink.  The first needle, a local anesthetic to numb the area, hurt but that's cool, I really didn't want to feel the mile-long needle going into my spine.  Except for some reason, when she stuck the mile-long needle into my spine, I could feel it.  And I don't even know how to describe it because I have never felt anything like it before.  It felt like a needle being stuck in my spine.  It hurt and it felt awful.  Thankfully it didn't hurt for very long and then the pain of the contractions went away so I wasn't so pissed anymore.  My parents came back in the room and all was well. 

It was a black leather fanny pack.  

And this is where things get fuzzy for me.  At some point, it could have been an hour, it could have been 3 hours but I don't think it was that long, the epidural stopped working and I could feel the contractions again.  And they were getting stronger and closer together.  I kept trying to tell the nurse that something was wrong and she seemed to think I was just feeling pressure and not the contractions.  At first I agreed with her because what the fuck did I know?  Almost all of this process was new to me, I didn't know what I was supposed to be feeling or how a contraction felt vs. pressure from a contraction.  All I knew was that I was in pain and it felt like the nurses and anesthesiologist didn't believe me.  And because it was a busy night on the floor, it would take forever for the anesthesiologist to come back to check on me.  I just remember that I was miserable.  There were times that I could manage the pain and get through the contraction and there were times when I thought I was dying.  Eventually I found that if I could look directly into my mom's eyes and focus on just her eyes during a contraction, I could get through them.  It was the weirdest thing.  I tried focusing on other things in the room, the wall clock, the curtain, the wall, but nothing worked except my mom's eyes.  My mom is an amazing woman and stood by me as much as she could.  Once in a while she'd have to move out of the way of the nurse or dr. or whatever and I could tell she hated to leave my side.

At some point in the very early hours of the next day, the anesthesiologist came back in and I was exhausted and in pain and I remember that during several contractions instead of looking into my mom's eyes I gave up and just begged for help.  The anesthesiologist unlocked the little case with the bag of drugs that was going into the epidural and she said, "Oh.  This is supposed to be empty," as she held up a very full bag.  I think I had mentioned in my previous post that the hospital had new IV pumps and apparently this one wasn't working like it should have been.  And instead of getting a steady flow of pain meds into my epidural, I was getting a teeny tiny amount.  And the anesthesiologist also admitted that because there were so many patients that night, she had run out of meds and had to get mine from Urgent Care and she suspected their meds weren't as strong as what L&D uses.  I would have killed her again with her motherfucking fanny pack but I was too busy having contractions and when that happened I needed both of my hands to grip the railing on the bed and attempt to rip it off and throw it out the window.  She said she would get me some lidocaine right away and that would help.  She shot the lidocaine into one of my IV ports and ahhhhh... instant relief.  I was so happy I think I smiled and laughed about something. 

Unfortunately, that was very short lived.  I was fine one second and then all of a sudden I was puking and everything was going dark.  I think I said, "something is wrong..." and then I couldn't talk but I could hear the nurse say "60 over 40" and the anesthesiologist was yelling at the nurse to flush the IV line but because there were so many the nurse couldn't tell which one it was and I remember the anesthesiologist threw something on the bed because it landed on my legs and then she screamed, "I DON'T CARE PICK ONE NOW!" and then that's the last thing I remember until I opened my eyes again and the nurse was standing there messing with my IV lines and I asked her if my baby was okay.  She said my baby was fine, his heart rate hadn't changed a bit.  I asked her if I was okay and she said I was and that for some reason my blood pressure had suddenly dropped.  Gee.  Ya think?  Then I looked over and saw my parents cowering in the corner.  Because everything happened so quickly, they were blocked in and couldn't get out of the room.  Later I found out that for a minute, they thought they were watching me die.  I cannot even begin to imagine what that was like for them.  Ugh.  The nurse stopped the oxytocin and my contractions pretty much stopped.  I remember being confused about the puking because I couldn't remember the last time I ate.  Isn't it funny the things you think about and the things you remember thinking about?  Eventually I remembered that I had eaten at the hospital right before they started giving me the magnesium.  I asked the nurse to please get me a toothbrush and some toothpaste because yuck.  The magnesium already made me super thirsty and gave me dry mouth and I had just puked.  She said no because you can't eat or drink anything when you're on magnesium.  Are you kidding me???  Did you not just see me puke hospital food all over myself???  I promised to just brush my teeth and not swallow one drop of water and she finally agreed and I could have kissed her with my nasty, dry, magnesium, puke mouth.  I didn't because I think she really wasn't supposed to let me do it.  Even though I was so thirsty I would have drank the toothpaste, I was good and was very careful to not swallow anything. 

The anesthesiologist came back and tried to adjust my epidural pump and someone in an official looking medical outfit checked to see how far I was dilated and I was at 7 centimeters.  Seven.  It was around 5 a.m.  They turned the oxytocin back on and hoped that the epidural would work.  It didn't.  Well, maybe it worked some because who knows how much pain I would have been in if I didn't have it at all.  I could still feel every contraction and I was having a hard time getting on top of the pain because I was so tired.  I just hoped I was dilating and that I would have enough energy to push the kid out once it was time.  Luckily I was focused on getting through each contraction and hadn't even considered how bad it was gonna hurt to get the kid out. 

Around 9 a.m. the famous Nurse Ratchet came in (you'll have to check out the first part that explains who she was) and I remember I was laying on my left side, facing the door to my room.  I was hanging on to the bed rail for dear life and was back to begging anyone, no one in particular, everyone, to help me.  She bent over and looked me in the eye and said, "Miss Leaf, I hear you whining.  You've had an epidural."  This is the part where everyone assumes Nurse Ratchet is dead.  Nope.  She's alive and well.  Actually, I don't know that for sure but I know I didn't kill her.  I was so exhausted and in so much pain that I just looked away and started to cry.  She then asked me what was wrong and why was I crying.  I refused to speak to her.  The night nurse had left a while before this happened and the nurse that had been on duty when I first came in was back.  Both the night nurse and this nurse were so nice to me.  I still remember their names, Laura and Laurel.  Laurel came over and I told her I needed a different doctor and that I was not going to talk to that woman anymore.  She had heard what Nurse Ratchet said to me and very kindly explained that she thought Nurse Ratchet used the wrong word and that English wasn't her first language and she most likely didn't mean that I was whining but that she (Laurel) understood if I needed to see someone else.  Laurel was so awesome that when it might seem like she was making excuses for Nurse Ratchet, it didn't feel like it.  I think she was just trying to make me feel a little better about the whole shitty situation.  I told her I needed a different doctor.  I was done.  I never saw Nurse Ratchet again.

The on-call OB/GYN came in just before 10 a.m.  I knew my regular doctor wasn't on call that weekend but I was still disappointed.  I loooooved my doctor!  The on-call doctor checked to see how far I was dilated and I wanted to die when he said, "You're 7 centimeters."  Five hours of contractions and I hadn't dilated any more.  He told me that I could either have a c-section right away, or he could wait an hour to see if I started to dilate.  He said he would go check on a couple patients and would let me think about it for a few minutes.  After he left I called Laurel over and I asked her what she thought the chances were that I would start dilating again after not making any progress for the past 5 hours.  She said she didn't think it was very likely and she was concerned that I was so tired that even if I did get to 10 centimeters, pushing out a baby would be almost physically impossible.  I told her to bring that man back and let's have a baby.  The best part was that they turned off the oxytocin again and my contractions slowed waaaaaay down.  Aaaaahhhh...

Once the decision was made everything happened really quickly.  They had a scheduled c-section at noon so needed to get me in as soon as possible.  I remember they told my parents only one of them could be in the room with me.  My parents asked me if I had a preference and I told them to duke it out.  My mom must pack one hell of a punch because almost immediately my dad left to go to the waiting room and the nurses were taking my mom to get her suited up for the OR.

A really perky anesthesiologist assistant came in to get me ready.  She was so friendly and nice and complimented me on my nail polish.  Another anesthesiologist came in and he was old and didn't have a fanny pack and I liked him instantly.  Once they got me in the OR they tested my epidural site because they wanted to use that to numb me.  It didn't work so they had to take out the epidural, which I could feel, and put in a spinal block.  I was still having some contractions so it was still really difficult to sit perfectly still while feeling like my body was being ripped in half.  But the spinal block was worth it.  Oh sweet spinal block.  I couldn't feel anything lower than my arm pits.  I loved that spinal block.  I wanted to marry it but I was still legally married and was about to become a single parent and didn't need anymore drama in my life. 

The c-section was quite possibly the weirdest thing I have ever experienced.  First of all, even though I couldn't feel anything lower than my arm pits, I was freezing.  I could not stop shivering.  And it wasn't just that my teeth were chattering, I actually felt cold.  So weird.  The perky assistant started rigging this hot air blanket thing over me while the surgery started.  They forgot to tell me that they would be cauterizing shit so I was pretty mortified when I smelled burning flesh and realized oh my god that was me.  Gross.  My mom said they did give her a heads up before they brought her in.  I couldn't feel anything except some pushing and pulling, also weird, and I really wasn't thinking about it too much because I could smell me burning and the perky assistant was taking forever to put together this hot air blanket and was it all a plan to keep me preoccupied?  I don't know but if so, that's pretty shitty because I was freezing the entire time.  Finally she got it in place and warm air was all around my shoulders and I started to feel warm and it was nice and then at 12:09 p.m. the dr. said "Here he is!" and he was out and I couldn't see him and I just wanted to see him but they took him over to the warming table and my mom got up and went to see him and she was ooo-ing and aaaah-ing and oh my god he's so beautiful and in my head I was screaming "BRING ME MY FUCKING BABY RIGHT THIS MINUTE" but I knew that they were still sewing me up and putting my guts back in and I didn't want to disrupt any of that action.  I heard my mom saying, "she needs to see him now can she see him now please let her see him right now" and they let her bring him to me and I saw his face and I know this is cliche but he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I couldn't touch him because my arms were still tied down and then I couldn't see him because I was crying and I couldn't wipe my eyes and my glasses were all foggy and I just wanted my baby. 

After I was all sewed back together and they moved me back onto a bed, I realized that one of the people in the OR was Patrick the intern, who was also introduced in my first post.  He congratulated me and wished me the best.  I was sincerely happy to see him and thanked him for everything.  Later my mom told me that the dr. had Patrick stitch me up.  This sounds crazy but I was glad because I felt like he cared about me and would have done a good job.  He was there with me and Nurse Ratchet from the beginning and he checked back in on me a couple times.  Maybe he had to because it was part of his job but even if that was the case, he made me feel like it was because he really wanted to make sure I was okay.  This whole thing was so fucked up that I made an intern that reminded me of Doogie Howser, my hero.  Anyway, apparently he had a big job to do in stitching me back up because my mom told me that during the c-section, she heard the dr. say that he needed to make the cut bigger to get the baby out.  Yuck.

So finally someone handed me my baby and at that moment, and from then on, my family felt complete.  I couldn't stop looking at him.  He was supposed to look all gross and newborn and wrinkly and alien-ish but he was staring at me with those ginormous eyes and he was beautiful and I felt like I knew him and I told him he was grounded for punching me in the bladder and in my right rib so many times and I just couldn't believe that he was mine and did I mention how fucking gorgeous he was?

The rest, as they say, my friends, is history.

(I know I just recently posted this photo but it is the only one I have of Henry and I on the day he is born where he's awake!  I just looked through a shit-ton of photos from his birth day and he is sound asleep in all the other photos with the two of us.  Also, I think it pretty accurately depicts what I was feeling at the time: drugs, exhaustion, and happiness.  And Henry, he's still pretty chill)

dear henry, part ii,

I feel I must also apologize for some of that laughter being at your expense. Some day you will watch the video of you trying to crawl on the tile floor in your fleece footy pajamas and you will hear mama howling with laughter while yelling, "He can't get any purchase!" and my hope is that you too will think it's funny. Until then, I'm sorry for taking video and cracking up instead of helping you move out of one spot. Oh, and also thank you for cleaning the floor right there. Swiffer has nothing on you.

Love,
Mama

dear henry,

Thank you for making me laugh every single day.

Love,
Mama

dear friend of the court,

You clearly don't have a kid in diapers. If you did, you would understand how expensive they are and would have sent my child support already.

Love,
Jen

nighty night

I am so tired. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

Drained.

Remember when I used to think being a single parent of a newborn was so exhausting? Yeah. I was wrong.

Single parent + mobile 10-month old + teething = exhausting

I just want Henry to feel better but the second he feels better he takes off and the chase is always on and oh my god I need a nap but first I have to do all the chores and now I have to add "clean the floors" to the list because Henry is all over the place and why am I always saying, "no Henry, you may not lick the tile floor" when I never in a million years thought of stringing those words together in a sentence but now I say them several times a day.

So I crawl in bed tonight thinking positively about kicking some insomnia ass and I put the book down and take off my glasses and turn off the light and hey by the glow of the baby monitor lights I see something on the wall so I turn the light back on and holy shit sweet mother of god it is a ginormous spider crawling up the wall right next to my bed and it's so big I could see it in the dark. Without. My. Glasses. so I grabbed a handful of tissues and I slayed the giant spider and am now wide awake drawing up plans for a spider barrier/moat/electric fence so I can sleep at some point in my life although my time would probably be better spent looking for a job so I can afford to get my own house that will probably also have spiders but maybe I just won't see them until after I get some sleep.

And yes I am aware that my grammar sucks but damn I rock a run-on sentence or three and it's more the fucked up tenses that are bugging me but not enough to go back and fix them because I'm just too tired to give a shit and I just want Henry to stop trying to lick the goddamn tile floor and all I can think of right at this moment is an awful and awfully inappropriate joke about cocaine and floors and my baby and now I'm thinking about spiders again and I'm never going to sleep tonight so I should probably go watch the train wreck that is Dance Moms not that I would ever watch that but if I did it would only be because of a giant fire-spitting spider sighting. In. My. Bedroom. Without my glasses.

i have a desk again

It's nice to have a place to keep my computer and my external hard drives and I even have a chair so now I don't have any excuse to not post more often. 

Except I'm still a single mom and am still crazy busy and now it's even worse because the boy can crawl and boy can he crawl! 

I haven't uploaded any photos in a couple months and my dslr seems to be broken which makes me very sad but here's a photo anyway.  It's from my phone so it isn't great but hey, it's something!

i don't believe in signs.

This afternoon I was at the grocery store and the back of the man's t-shirt in front of me read, "Fuck them and their rules." My first thought was, "wow, I'm surprised that shirt has the correct 'their'," and my second thought was, "wow, why can't I find me a man like that?" One with long flowing greasy (wet?) hair and unafraid to just put it out there. The hair. The rebellion. Fuck the rules.

Then he turned around.

Hmmm...

He looked familiar.

Of course! It was a dude I totally had a crush on in high school.

I think it's a sign that I need to start believing in signs. And since I now believe in signs, this sign says I totally suck at picking men and for Henry's sake, I need to stay single for the rest of my life.

i have all these important things to write.

But then when I have a second to sit down at the computer I write emails and attempt to catch up on my rss feed and check Facebook and then I have to cut my nails and oh shit I forgot I put Henry's laundry in the dryer last night and he's going to need a bib for when he gets up from his nap and is hungry and oh double shit I have to pack his diaper bag because he has his 9-month well-baby visit with the doctor this morning and it sucks to show up at the doctor appointment without required baby supplies but how will I pack his diaper bag when he is sleeping in his room and where did I put that diaper bag anyway? Hmmmm.... of course, the trunk of the car.

Anyway, the other problem is I know nobody wants to read and just wants to enjoy photos of the boy. I think I have explained before that my photos of the boy are on an external hard drive and since my "office" is the kitchen table, I don't always have the external drive readily available.

Here's a photo anyway. I can't believe my son is 9-months old. This seems like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time.

I've been trying to get out of the house with Henry in the early morning hours. If he's going to be up so damn early, we might as well get shit done. Yesterday we went grocery shopping. Today we went to a sidewalk sale at a kickass shoe store. The sale started at 6 a.m. and we were there by 7:15 a.m. and it. was. crowded. Henry loved every minute of it. There is a second floor balcony so we went and stood and watched everyone moving around and he just jumped and squealed with excitement. We also stood and watched the tropical fish tank for quite a long time. I could see his reflection in the glass and he looked really drunk. So funny. He was clearly the star of the sale, better than any 75% off of anything deal.

Here's a hint, if you go to a crazy busy sale with a baby strapped to your chest in a Baby Bjorn, you will get all the help you need from multiple sales associates. This store is known for above and beyond customer service but I kind of expected it to be difficult to get help when there are one million customers and not one million employees. Nope, instead I was almost getting annoyed with the offers to help every 5 seconds. I have a feeling they didn't really want to help, they just wanted the opportunity to say hi to the most adorable baby in the world.

And now here's a photo of something completely unrelated to sidewalk sales. Henry got to play in the sand for what I think is the first time (I have no idea what he does when he is with his dad so for all I know this was not a new experience at all)!

other times.

On my long list of chores is to make a bottle for tomorrow morning. My parents recently returned from a vacation with a shit-ton of food that all got stuffed in the fridge. They then turned around and left for vacation part ii about 20 hours after they returned from part i, leaving me with a shit-ton of food that I won't/don't eat and will probably end up throwing out after a couple days anyway. I went to put his bottle in the fridge and could not find one place to put it. Not one. What to do? Henry does not like to have to wait for his breakfast so I always have a bottle ready for him. Because I am a problem solver, I quickly realized that if I just drank a couple beers, there would be plenty of room for a bottle.

Whew!

That was a close one.

sometimes.

After a long day of just the kid and I hanging out without any outings planned, I am tired of trying to figure out how to keep him amused. We already played with every toy in the house. We tried to go for a walk but the sun was too bright and he doesn't like having to squint the whole time. We went to the store and he got to ride around in the seat in the shopping cart (he's so proud that he doesn't have to sit in his car seat in the shopping cart anymore. Such a big boy!). It feels like so much work. When he finally tells me he's ready for bed, I kiss him goodnight and lay him down to fall asleep, he rolls over and cuddles his blanket and I run away to do my chores, happy to not have an extra 18+ pounds attached to my hip. Then about 5 minutes later I miss him terribly and would do just about anything to see this face again.

sigh.

I have a million posts that I have written. In my head. And lists. Lots and lots of lists, and one of the things on one of the lists is to write some, or one, of the posts in my head. Seriously, I make lists like they are going out of style. I think it's the only way I get anything done. Everything related to the kid is important and must get done, so I make lists. The other day I realized I might have a list-making problem when I was driving and caught myself making a list in my head of all the lists I've made lately.

I also go back and forth about what I should and should not post. And is anyone really reading anyway? I originally wanted to post updates on the kid for his extended family in other states. I have no idea if they are reading and I'm not sure if anyone else is reading and I guess it doesn't really matter but there are probably a shit-ton of other things I could be spending my time doing while Henry takes his afternoon nap and would you like to see the list?

But back to what should and shouldn't be posted. The kid. The interwebs. I don't want them to have a tumultuous relationship before he even understands that the interweb is useful for more than just watching Oceans on Netflix on mama's computer while she hurriedly makes breakfast at oh-dark-thirty in the morning before he starts yelling real loud. I don't think I've written anything embarrassing for him. Yet. I'm trying to have a filter. It's hard because I have never had a filter and I'm so tired most of the time so I probably even have less of a filter than when I'm rested (when was that? I don't remember).

Anyway...

I'm sure I have gone through this little crisis of whether or not I should continue to blog in the past. And apparently I've worked it out by continuing to blog.

Here's something not related to my blogging existential crisis. The other day I decided it was time for Henry to go in the hot tub (the temperature of the water was 96 degrees so don't worry, I wasn't trying to cook my kid) for the first time. Please disregard his scary mama in this photo and focus instead on how adorable he is in his plaid swim trunks.


He really liked it!


Until I dunked him under water. He didn't like that too much. He didn't cry, but he rarely does. Instead he just looked at me like, "Really mama? Really?" I don't have pictures of it and it's probably better that way.

Ummm... I think I probably just embarrassed him by posting these photos.

Parenting is so hard.

april.

Things have been a little crazy around here. Crazy good. I thought I'd share some April photos before it gets to be November.

Speaking of crazy...

My niece came to visit and she brought her monkey. It was the weekend before Easter and we all had a blast.

Monkey had too much fun.


The boy, aka Henry, has really taken to Barbaro Garbey, aka Boom Boom. It can be 4:30 a.m. and the boy is crabby and hungry and really angry that his mommy won't get her lazy ass out of bed to make him some damn breakfast but as soon as Boom Boom enters the picture, he's all happy and cooing and excited. Now if I could just teach Boom Boom how to make him breakfast...


I don't want Willie Horton to feel left out. She's still cute.


It seems like the boy is learning new things every day. April was full of reaching for things and getting to know how to use his hands.


Easter happened and I found out the boy isn't very good at finding his basket. He is almost always more interested in looking at the camera so maybe if I hadn't been taking photos he would have found it right away.


We went to Frederick Meijer Gardens to see the butterflies. It was toward the end of the exhibit and I think most of the butterflies had already kicked it. The morning we went was super rainy and gross but by the time we finished eating lunch, it had stopped raining so we ventured out for a stroll. Henry fell asleep but here he is napping under the giant horse. The kids in the background were hilarious. When they got up to the horse the little boy, probably about 8 years old, said to his sister, "Look! It's a boy! He has giant balls!" Of course I cracked up because I'm also an 8 year old boy. And since I was laughing he had to say it a million more times. But then I felt a little bad because his mom totally yelled at him for continuing to talk about the horse's giant balls.

We walked by the pond and I saw this fish. It's this big and it isn't swimming right toward Ernie. I'm not sure if this fish is hibernating, hiding his head from embarrassment, or dead.

I liked this plant.


The boy got a new bathrobe and I wish every night was bath night because, well, to quote a friend of a friend, "this cuteness is not a fucking joke."

lesson from a 12 year old girl: i need to get out more.

A girl from church comes over once in a while to "help" with Henry. She's a really good kid and I'm hoping one day she can babysit. I enjoy spending time with her but apparently I need to get out more and I'm more lonely than I thought.

"I was telling my mom how you talk to Henry all the time and you answer for him."

"Yeah?"

"I told her I can't wait til he can talk so you don't have to talk to yourself so much anymore."

life.

Earlier this evening Henry and I fell asleep on the couch while watching the Tigers game (he's decided 5:30 a.m. is an appropriate time to start the day so we were a little tired). When I woke up with him all snuggled under my chin I thought about how different my life is than what I thought it would be. And at that moment, listening to him breathing and looking at his arm wrapped around my neck to the back of my head so he could hold on to a bit of my hair, I realized I don't want it any other way.

Well, maybe a 6:30 a.m. start would be okay.

dear henry,

Mama's birthday is coming up soon. Oh! And mother's day. I thought I'd help you out with the shopping by giving you a suggestion or 34.

I'd really like this in sterling silver. Your initial and birth date, of course.

You can always check out my Amazon wish list which includes several Lane Smith books for you. And I think I added some toys for you as well.

And if none of those things look good to you, I could really really really go for a good night of sleep.

Love,
Mama

i am a rockstar.

It is 8:05 a.m. and I have already done the following:

Fed Henry cereal and bottle
Changed his diaper
Played lots of games
Made my bed
Showered and dressed
One load of Henry's laundry, folded and put away
Made 4 bottles for the day
Cleaned up puke from couch
Put Henry down for morning nap

Henry has been waking up at 5:30 so I guess he deserves some credit for my rockstarness.

wow.

I can't stop laughing.

This is amazing.

Hall of Fame, indeed.

no kids allowed. in this post.

I cannot believe I only post about kid-related shit. Who am I? What have I become? Yeah, yeah. I know. I've become a mom. I've been racking my brain about non-kid-related shit to write about and have come up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Big. Fat. Goose. Egg.

I lied.

I came up with one thing. But it makes me want to punch myself even more. Wait. Two things. And since I really don't have much self-esteem left in me anyway, I'll go ahead and share with you.

1.

I saw this car on the road yesterday. I don't know why but I hated it. I wanted to run over it with my big ass granny Camry.

That's all.

See why I want to punch myself? That's all I came up with.

But wait. It gets worse...

2.

I went shopping for clothes. It was awful. I didn't even know what size I wear. I hated every minute of it. First of all, I don't have money for new clothes. Second, have you gone shopping for new clothes lately? It appears the ruffle monster has the flu and has vomited ruffles all over everything. Third, I don't have a job yet so I didn't even know what kind of clothes I should be buying. I decided that I should get stuff that I could wear at home and out and about. The most important thing was that they needed to fit.

After much stress and sweating and bitching and moaning, I came home with some nice new clothes and they even fit. And some of them have ruffles. Punch me now. I realized that it has been a very long time since I have worn clothes that actually fit. It feels kind of nice to not have to hike up my pants every few minutes. The problem now is that I have to get a belt that fits. Henry likes to tuck his toes into my belt and stand up while I'm holding him. I tried my belt on with my new clothes and I can see daylight between the belt and the pants.

Shit. My non-kid-related post just turned kid-related.