Slacking, much?

Seriously, I can't seem to balance out everything right now.  I keep wanting to blog and thinking about all these thoughts and things that are blog worthy, but I'm either too tired, it's 3:00, 4:00, or 5:00 a.m. and I'm breastfeeding, I have a million other things to do or I have my Nola girl attached to me and she really doesn't like computer time.  I keep telling her to give it a try and it'll grow on her, but no dice so far.

My baby girl is 11 weeks old today.  Seriously, time is flying by.  She's doing much better at night, however, she still doesn't want to go down until like midnight.  She's a tiny party animal.  I was always a night owl until the last few years, so I think maybe she's just taking after me.  Anyone with any suggestions on how to remedy this situation is much appreciated.  That is, anything, but the cry it out method.  I can't do it.  Hearing her cry is like nails on a chalk board.  I swear, my brain is like, "Do something, do something, do something!"

We're slowly figuring out this parenting thing at the O house, so things are slowly getting back to normal.  I made meatloaf, maple-glazed carrots, and green beans on Monday night.  I had a screaming baby for most of it, but it felt good to catch a glimmer and feel like my pre-baby self.  I think that part of the parenting thing is figuring out who you are now.  If you're like me, you want to morph your former self with being a mom.  I could never just be a mom or wife.  Those are just two things on a list of things that define who I am.  Kudos, to the people who bend over backwards and give up what they love for the little people in their life.  I may eat my words later, but I have to have some outlet for myself too.

Hopefully, I'll be blogging more often now that things are settling down.  I'll leave you with a picture I took yesterday.  Can you handle all that cuteness?

I sold out

Yes, I sold out to Shutterfly by posting that last entry of Nola's birth announcement. It was all for a $10 off coupon for my next purchase. Extreme Couponing here I come! It doesn't hurt anyone to display a really adorable baby every now and again though!

P.S. This is coming from a blogging app on my phone, so it's not my fault if it's completely messed up when I post. I'm hoping it works, so I can do something productive during feedings. Fingers crossed.

Stationery card

Dulcet Wreath Birth Announcement

Shutterfly cards for Valentine's Day, Easter & Father's Day.

View the entire collection of cards.

Hungry Thighs

Aaron and I always make up songs for everything.  You better believe we've sung a mean song about diaper changing.  One of the most famous (to us anyways) songs we sing is Hungry Thighs.  You guessed it, sung to the tune of Hungry Eyes.  We sing it because both of our thighs rub together.  Even though, I've always been thin or average, my dang thighs touch.  This evening, on mine and Nola's walk, you better believe I was singing it in my head as my thighs tried to devour my shorts. Poor Nola is doomed to sing it too.

I'm cutting myself off

From what, you may ask?  First off, let me start out by saying that I have watched more tv in the past 6 weeks than I have in the past 6 months.  Nursing school sort of did away with my love of television because I never got to watch it anyways.  Slowly, over the past two years, since nursing school (can you believe I've been an RN for 2 years?!) I've stopped watching more and more shows.  You can ask Aaron, even when I'm watching tv, I'm reading a magazine, folding laundry, clipping coupons, etc. 

Well now, with the whole breastfeeding thing, I have to fill my time with something.  I can only do so much looking on the internet, reading blogs, and playing Angry Birds and Words with Friends. So, what have I filled my time with you ask?  The answer is Cold Case Files and I've officially freaked myself out.  It's a heck of a lot better than soap operas.  I really place the blame on Oprah.  She left me with nothing to watch. 

Last week, I watched an episode of CCF and, of course, it was about a women at her sister's house cleaning with her toddler at the table eating cheerios, who was taken and murdered while the child was left there. Hmm, I'm at home alone with my child all day and this women was taken in the daytime.  Then, to make matters worse, yesterday's episode had two nurses that were taken, raped, and stabbed to death.  Nice.

I'm sure you can picture me lying in bed last night wide awake while my baby was asleep.  Yes, a perfect time for me to be asleep too, except, I swear I saw a shadow in the closet and could hear something in the front room.  Should I mention that I have two dogs that pretty much bark at anything?  Yep, they would have been barking if anyone was there, but, that's right, the second episode (yes, they play two in a row) yesterday, the victim's dog was murdered too.  It's like CCF knows how to get into my head. 

Laugh all you want, but this is the same person that used to watch horror films and then walk through a dark house and not turn a single light on and who used to read books on serial killers.  Don't think I'm weird.  I used to want to do forensics before shows like CSI even existed.  Looks like that career would have turned out splendidly with me sleeping with the light on and a weapon. 

You know, I should have known this would happen.  Aaron used to play poker on Wednesday nights and I was home by myself until 11:00 p.m. or later.  I started watching Criminal Minds..and I'm sure you know how that turned out.  I even called him one night because I got a strange prank call and I swear I saw my life pass before my eyes. 

So, I'm cutting myself off.  No more crime shows when I'm home by myself and no true crime shows at all.  I've become weak in my "old" age.  My former 20 year-old forensic loving self would just shake her head in shame. 

Neglect..

I've been somewhat distracted by the new boss in town.

My poor herbs are dying...is it lack of water or lack of love?

These used to be flowers.

I haven't read a magazine in months.

Laundry doesn't put itself away, nor do beds make themselves.

Will you please walk me?

Um, you forgot to feed me. Hello!?

Motherhood, the first month

I naively went into motherhood with the idea that there would be this cuddly baby that loved you unconditionally, was fun to play with, and any experience with our nieces and nephews would make this whole motherhood thing a piece of cake.  I got the wake up call pretty quickly that this was not going to be a walk in the park. 

It's a lot harder than I could have ever imagined.  It's by far the hardest job I have ever had.  It makes me want to call my momma almost every day and say, "Thank you so much."  Thanks for having me, for staying up with me and getting no sleep, for enduring tears and screaming, for allowing me to cover you with my bodily excretions, and for my coming out in the end feeling loved, secure, and happy.  It blows my mind that my mother was only 17 when she had me, she was basically a single parent, and I was colicky.  I don't know how in the world she did it. My momma is pretty amazing.

There are days when I'm covered in spit up and breast milk, I've only slept for 4 1/2 hours of interrupted sleep, and where tears, not the baby's, are part of my day.  I should have known that we had ourselves a firecracker when she came into the world screaming.  She's my little angry bird.  Nola wants to be held all the time and on my breast constantly.  I am an open buffet all day long.  Your body is definitely no longer yours.  Some days all I want is to shower and it doesn't happen at all or not until late at night. 

She fights sleep like no other baby I have ever seen.  Make that, no other toddler, that I have seen. One night she went to bed at 10:30, which is amazing, but woke up around 12:30 and then stayed up until 3:30.  Her eyes would close and she would immediately start crying.   She spends a lot of the day fussing.  I have honestly thought, "This child is miserable and hates us."  Absurd, I know.  Things like this are bound to happen when you are sleep deprived and slowly moving towards delirium. 

Those are the bad days.  I'm not trying to scare any soon-to-be moms out there.  I'm just being honest.  I think the lack of honesty sets up other women for a false sense of what it's like in the beginning.  Now, I know, some people have it easier than others.  If you do have it easy, please don't tell all your new mother friends how good you have it.  Trust me, they won't like it.  Like my mother-in-law, who had babies who slept through the night at 4 weeks old and who had ample amounts of breast milk that just flowed with ease, and has told me all of this one hundred times.  I love her to death, but I swear, I have never wanted to punch someone in the face so much.  I finally told her that I'm happy for her, but after talking with other mothers, I know she was just very lucky.  There's no need to rub that in my face.  Your babies (sorry, honey!) were just weird.  Also, I think the bad times (like labor and my almost 4th degree tearing and episotomy which faded almost instantly when I saw my baby girl) fade out of your mind because the love you feel is just incredible. 

There are good days.  The days when your baby is crying and all you have to do is get into sight or talk and they hear your voice and instantly are soothed.  Aaron has called me the baby whisperer on more than one occasion.  I'm no magician.  My girl just knows her momma.  That love is so beyond anything I have ever felt.  It's beyond anything you can imagine.  This love is so huge that it can't be contained in your body.  It's living and breathing little person that you can grab hold of. 

For all the standing up in the kitchen inhaling your food because it may be your only opportunity to eat and your child is psychic and knows when you are about eat and for all the sleepless nights or constant consoling of tears, there is the tiny hand that grips your finger and holds on for dear life.  For all the unbathed days you spend covered in spit up and poop, there is a baby that sighs with happiness as she latches on to your breast.  Do I need to even mention the baby smell?  It's sent from heaven.  I wish I could bottle it because I would be a millionaire.  For all the bad days, there is the cooing and baby talk, smiling (if only in their sleep), and watching their eyes widen while discovering new things, like the ceiling fans.  Being the first to see them discover everything for the first time is pretty amazing.  Nola laughed in her sleep the other day and I just about died.  Just so you know, it takes one of these things to counter act an entire bad day or, for that matter, turn a bad day into a good day.

My world has morphed into all things Nola.  Gone, if only temporarily, is our life of picnics, bike rides, going out for a beer or a jog or an afternoon movie on a whim, but in it's place is something so much more rewarding.  We are no longer a pair, but a trio.  And years from now, when you mention this blog entry, I'll deny it or say something, "Like I think you've mistaken, it was never bad," because my baby girl will wrap her arms around my neck and say, "I love you, mommy," and all those bad things will fade and I'll only remember a cooing baby, who wrapped her little fingers around mine and sighed when ever she was near me.