Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Treats treats treats

In a fit of post-pregnancy insanity (I can't stand any of my clothes and I feel like a flabby blimp and I can no longer leave the house and I want to feel pretty again) I went shopping in the states a couple of weekends ago. I blew quite a chunk o' change and bought several tops, a cute skirt, a bunch of non maternity underwear (a big deal) and a pair of seven jeans. I'm loving every minute of my new clothes, but apparently I hadn't scratched that shopping itch enough. Last week I bought myself a much desired pair of Camper shoes. I hadn't even taken the tags off yet as I wasn't sure of my worthiness when my mother-in-law insisted we go back and look some more at the place of my new found obsession. Next thing I know I'm sitting on the bus with another Camper box tucked under my arm.

I need a support group, clearly.

Yesterday Nate turned four months old. His grandma and grandpa were totally over the moon and took a bunch of 'four month birthday' pictures. Being not a bright girl I bitchily pointed out that he would kinda look the same if we took them the day before or after or even two days before and after. I should have just eaten my Campers.

So here are things I have actually said around my conservative very straight-laced Singaporean in-laws who have been forced to accept me even though I have way too many tattoos (is there a spell check on this thing?), dye my hair funy colors and am way way too chubby for my mother-in-law's tastes. They love me--I know--but definetly against their better judgement.

  • "let him have the knife, how else is he supposed to learn how to be a knife thrower in the circus..." (on Nate's possible occupation)
  • "maybe he'll be gay..." (on girls finding Nate a heartbreaker when he grows up)
  • "I mean, I experimented with all kinds of drugs when I was young, and I turned out okay," (on raising a teen)
  • "he doesn't have to be a doctor when he grows up--as long as he's happy" (again occupation)

You see, I just can't help myself. Partly it is an urge to get under their skin. After all, my mother-in-law is fond of saying things like "Is that what you are wearing out? I thought you were going to wear something pretty." Partly it is just me being me.

I do love them.

One month and a half to go.

They are lovely people.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Chirpy

Not much new--well at this stage everything is new but there's so much going on all the time things just mush together and you forget the newness. Like the kid is now almost rolling from back to front, and spends much time on his side. Like his newfound adeptness for reaching for, snagging, and shoving just about anything in his mouth and gnoshing away on it.

With these cool changes comes the nighttime discontent apparently. He is waking up many times a night, not to feed, but just up and pissy because he is up and can't get back to sleep. Needless to say this causes us much consternation and to me personally some fairly major no sleep rage.

The no sleep rage is pretty scary actually cause it comes from an uncontrollable place within me that doesn't see things in a reasonable way. So after the third time that I've put him down and his eyes pop open and he starts to fuss, I want to scream, jump up and down, or just dump him in his very loudly snoring father's lap (I hate it when I can't sleep and my husband is soooo obviously enjoying his slumber in a freight train sounding way) and go sleep out in the alley where I will be comforted by the shrill sounds of the drunk crazy people, dramatic angsty couple fights, dramatic but serious fights between cats, and some not so nice "domestic disputes".

I love my neighborhood.

Anyhow, the next morning all is wonderful and my perfectly well rested child beams up at me in the most angelic way (god, I hate that I just used that word, but it is true) and he is chirpy and shiny and bright and I wonder what I would do without him.

fucking parenthood will get ya every time.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Some days...

Have I mentioned how much I adore my child? I do...really. So much so that when there is something bugging him and he cries, it breaks my heart.

He was having tummy troubles today and I sat with him all afternoon while he slept and cried and slept and cried and slept and felt terrible. I felt awful. It is the stupidest thing cause really how's that going to help? And I feel like "hey, tell me whats going on and I'll make it better" but that's so a lie cause I can't, can I?

I mean, I don't want to sound all stupid and smushy (I am tho) and all, but it's kind of crappy to not be able to help the little dude. Not always-- like when he scratches himself in the face and I'm like "well don't do that" or when he gives that obviously fake cry meant to make me pick him up or not put him to bed (does that cry ever work?). It's when he is so obviously in distress and there's not a goddam thing I can do to help.

That cry sucks.

On the not sucky side, there's all this stuff that's great and communicative about the little 'un these days. He can actually grab stuff and get it to his mouth now. I know it may not sound like much, but for a long time now you could see the determination in his eyes as he would look at something and try to will it into his hand or mouth. The intensity was pretty nutty and nothing would happen or his hand would just sorta jerk out. Now it's a way more controlled grab for it, and most of the time he actually makes it.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

First Message

So...today I set up our new computer. In honour of this I decided to try this whole blogging thing. The idea being that those of you who care can have a looksee at recent pictures, hear about the most recent adorable (or horrible) thing my son has done, or listen to one of my rants (I'm not the Tirade for nuthin) about anything I decide to talk about. Don't expect anything too clever though, because I'm not sure I got it in me.

I actually didn't spend a tonne of time with the little dude today other than my normal dairy queen duties. How you may ask can a new mother accomplish this? Parents-in-law. They are here for three months--we are nearing the end of month one.

They adore my child.

Did I mention they are staying for three months?

With us?

The end of month one.

Anyhow, not much time with Nate today as I was setting up the computer and generally looking forward to going out this evening with a friend (all by myself-no husband, no baby, no parents-in-law) where I consumed TWO drinks (or so). I fear that some damn spy from the Le Leche League is going to pound on my door any second, bitch slap me and paste a bad mommy sign on my ass.

The sad thing is that I was a very tipsy girl after just two drinks. I ran into a woman I used to work with on the way home and I think I scared her. I was all cheerful and way too chatty and she kind of had that 'back away slowly' face on.

There it is--tipsy.