Just another WordPress weblog
Courtney: We should go sledding tomorrow. My Mom would babysit Nora! It’d be so fun!
Moment or two of silence
Larry: How’s your cooter?
C: hesitant Fiiiiiine…why?
L: Well I didn’t know how it was doing. You know, if it’d be okay to be bouncing down a hill on a sled…
C: Oooohhh…I wondered why you asked…I thought maybe it was ‘Ask About Courtney’s Vagina’ Day…
L: Everyday should be ‘Ask About Courtney’s Vagina’ Day…
Dear Nora,
I’m not sure how many of these updates will start with, “Wow! We made it another week!”…but at some points during the week it seems questionable as to whether we’ll survive the next hour, let alone the next week. At the beginning of this week things were going kinda crappy…what with the crying all the time and all. It seemed like you had a belly ache every night. I scoped out a book I have that’s written by a bunch of doctors…I checked the colic information and found a few suggestions. The number one thing to try was eliminating dairy and caffeine from my diet. It said that half of colicky babies can’t tolerate the dairy and/or caffeine in the mother’s breast milk. I tried that for a few days and noticed a world of difference in your temperament. Your Daddy and I totally felt like rock stars when we had you in bed the next few nights by 10:30. Last night you had a belly ache again…way to bring us back down to Earth!
You’ve been out and about a lot more this week…partially because you sleep so well in your carseat…and partially because we have s.h.i.t. to do, child. Since you’ve been feeling better it’s been easier to take you places…we haven’t ventured out to a quiet, sit-down restaurant yet…we’re thinking of trying that when you’re ten.
I get a weekly email update on how my child should be progressing and stuff. It says that babies don’t actually cry tears until they’re older…that at this point you don’t have real tears because your tear ducts aren’t developed at birth. Know what I think? That’s bull crap. What exactly are real tears? You cry and cry and cry, and liquid comes out of your eyes. Perhaps you shouldn’t be crying? We don’t want to overwork your underdeveloped tear ducts, do we?! Try and work on that less crying plan and we’ll see what happens, okay?
The biggest and most coolest thing that happened this week is that you started smiling when people talk to you…not just when you’re filling your diaper. We weren’t sure at first, but quickly confirmed that you were having real smiles. Your Daddy talks to you and you get the biggest grin on your face. Of course I talk to you and you get a big grimace on your face. It’s so amazingly fantastic to see you smile and make giggling noises. We just love seeing you grow and change. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s been four weeks already, and other times it seems like you’ve been with us forever. Don’t forget…less fake tears…more real smiles!
Love,
Mommy
I have found something that Nora excels at. I know, she’s barely four weeks old…I’m sure you’re wondering what on Earth a tiny baby can be so excellent at…so fantastic, in fact that I’d venture to say she’s the best baby on the planet at this one thing she does so well. What is her special skill, you ask?! Why, pooping while she has her diaper off, of course. Not only does she poopie while her diaper is off…she gets distance. I’m sure you read the WalMart poop episode, right? The very next day Larry was changing Nora’s diaper in our bedroom. She was laying on our bed…on a waterproof changing pad, thankfully. This situation was much like the previous times (at least four thus far) that she’s pooped while diaper-less…except that she shot the poop so far that it got on the edge of her Pack ‘N Play. Please understand that this is easily three feet from where her butt was. Not only did she shoot poop onto the Pack ‘N Play…but she shot poop all over Larry, too. The worst part is that it’s so surprising when she does it. She doesn’t grunt. Her face doesn’t get red. She’s simply laying there, content as can be. The next thing you know there’s poop everywhere and you’re standing there with your jaw on the floor like, “Um…excuse me? Where exactly did this fecal matter come from?!” Once Larry recovered from his immediate shock he handed the situation off to me to finish diapering Nora so he could scrub himself with Lava soap and a Brillo pad. I think that if “Sneak Attack Projectile Pooping While Diaper-less” was an Olympic sport, I’d be grooming the USA’s next gold medalist.
I have photographic evidence that Nora likes her Daddy more than she likes me. It’s simple, really, see how non-pissed off she looks with Larry? Now look at the photos with me…see how she looks at me?! I get a sideways glance where it almost looks like she’s rolling her eyes. Check out the first photo of the two of us…that’s an evil look…directed right at me. I like how she has one hand up next to her head…makes her look bored and pissed off. She’ll smile someday, right?! Unfortunately I fear that all of her smiling photos will be when Daddy’s holding her…
Today I thought I was going to pee my pants for the second time in the last month. For the record, the first time this month I peed my pants was the day after Nora was born. Those catheters can sure mess up your ability to judge how soon you need to head to the bathroom, let me tell ya. Back to today. Today I was laughing so hard that I was pretty sure I’d need a clean pair of pants. The trip really started out innocent enough…but it quickly headed South…and then even more South…
Mom, Larry, Nora, and I went to Walmart. Larry went in to get the few things we needed. Nora, in her daily attempt at forcing me to nurse her in public, was hungry. I nursed her in the car. Up until now, you notice, things are fine. Larry finished up shopping and Nora finished up eating shortly after he returned to the car. Handing her to him to be burped I noticed that her diaper was hanging off of her butt…like two inches of baby bootie crack was hanging out…so Larry checked to see if she was wet and decided we’d just change her instead of readjusting the current diaper. Still no problem.
Mom handed me the diaper accoutrements…including the plastic covered changing pad…which we put under Nora…who was now laying on my lap so Larry could change her. He easily removed her dirty diaper. The problems began when we didn’t get the new diaper on soon enough. I think things went awry because Larry said, “Just don’t poop on me, little girl“. In baby-translation this must mean, “Poop away you nasty poop machine“…because that’s precisely what Nora did. We’re talking runny breastmilk poopie…on a changing pad that’s not on a stable surface. Nice, huh?
Imagine the picture if you can: I’m holding Nora straight up and down trying to keep her shirt out of the poopie, although her feet are dipped in the poopie because she’s so dang long…Larry’s trying to wipe her off…the three adults in the car are laughing their heads off…the poopie is running all over the changing pad. What happens next, you ask? We run out of wipes, of course. Never fear though…we have restaurant napkins in the glove box. One problem with the napkins is that they are dry. Mommy to the rescue…I handed Nora off to Larry and spit on the napkins. Maybe not the best thing in the world, but I had a poopie-footed child on my hands. Desperate times call for using spat-on napkins as baby wipes.
Don’t worry…the story gets better. I’m holding Nora…who, for the most part, is poop-free…but not yet diapered. Larry said, “Well as long as she doesn’t pee…” Nora took this to be a request…and she promptly peed everywhere. By now I’ve got tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard. I think this was a situation where you laugh so you don’t cry. We managed to keep ourselves pee and poop free…we only had minor pee spillage into the cup holder. Finally we got Nora re-diapered and re-dressed. Amazingly enough she didn’t cry throughout this whole ordeal. I figured it’d be prime scream time…what with her butt hanging out and the two of us man handling her and all. Larry disposed of the evidence while Mom got Nora back in her carseat.
Dear Nora,
This week has been a gazillion times better than the last two weeks…in fact it’s almost like you’re a normal baby now. These days you get up, eat, get changed, and lo and behold…you go back to sleep…usually within a half hour. It’s fan-flippin’-tastic! Your Daddy and I get normal amounts of sleep now…which to two adults with a newborn means we get 3-4 hours of sleep at a time. I find that if you sleep longer than 4 hours straight I wake up wondering what’s wrong with you, because there’s just no way you
would sleep for 5 or 6 hours without something being wrong. But then I poke you, see that you’re still breathing, and go back to sleep. Of course when you sleep for 5 or more hours straight I wake up with the world’s most engorged and leaky boobs…which is not exactly pleasant…but it’s also not exactly something I’m going to complain too much about because these days sleep is much more important than…well everything. Waking up with breast milk splotches all over my t-shirt just means we’ve had an extremely successful night of sleeping…that makes Mommy very happy!
I still think you like your Daddy more than me…but perhaps I’m starting to grow on you. Just so you know, he’s planning on making you wait until you’re 30 to date boys…I could be persuaded to take your side and allow you to date sooner…if you play your cards right and start to like me, too. The only thing you seem to enjoy that I do for you is feed you. You look like a little carp with your mouth hanging open and bobbing your head all around trying to latch on to my nipple. I’m mildly ashamed to admit that I find this hilarious and call you My Little Carp whenever it’s feeding time. But, really, it is hilarious. You still like it much better when Daddy changes your diaper and changes your clothes than when I do it…but some days, sweetie, you don’t have a choice but to have me do it…and on those days, you cry.
We’ve been taking you out of the house more this week. This is partially because I get bored staying home all day and partially because we’re trying to get you sick. Your Daddy says this is to strengthen your immune system. Really we’re not trying to get you sick…in fact I find that I don’t like it when people breathe on you and these days I can hear another child cough or sneeze from a mile away…and I feel the need to cover you up so their germs can’t get you. I wanted to buy you one of those bio-hazard suits but I’m not sure I’d get it under the straps of your carseat. I’m sure you’ll get sick one of these days…I am just not looking forward to it…it breaks my heart when you’re sad and not feeling well.
Love,
Mommy
A few nights ago Nora had her first bath…we tried this hoping that it’d help calm her during her witching hours of 8 pm to midnight…we also busted out the bath because she was starting to get some stink on her. She wasn’t overly impressed with the bath…in fact I’d say she pretty much despised it…but at least she smelled better when we were finished. One thing I learned quickly is that a wet baby is super slippery…and a wet, flailing baby is twice as difficult to hang on to. We did the bath quickly, but did manage to get a few photos.
Awww…my little cutie’s first bath picture ever…this is the photo she’ll be thrilled is on the internet…for all of her future friends to see…
Now we’re really getting the full-on “you’re a bitch” scream…she gives me this scream when I’m changing her diaper, changing her clothes, bathing her, trying to get her to go to sleep, oh yeah…and when I’m breathing in her general direction…she doesn’t like that either.
A little post bath snuggle with Daddy in her Pooh bath blanket. Doesn’t she look so much happier? If she could talk I think she’d be saying, “Dad, did you see what the hell she was doing to me in the other room? She had my clothes off and she was getting me all wet and cold…stupid bitch…”
Finally, another shrill encounter with Nora’s lungs. I just had to get a good shot of this bath blankie though…I did pay $5.50 plus shipping for it on eBay…
Recent Comments