After last week’s gloom and doom, I am ready to face this week with more cheer. I guess sometimes, you just need time to hunker down, feel sorry for yourself for a bit and then get over it. The lovely thing about having a baby is that you really can see past the current week. It was hard to be too sad with him cooing and smiling while X and I sorted out our bad news. Arun is 3 months old today and I am still in complete and utter awe of him.........
His sole Gymboree outfit that has managed to stay Poo Free. Stay tuned!
Give That Kid a Newspaper Already: - Rest assured, if the kid’s outfit comes from Gymboree or Baby Gap, he’s gonna take a big ole dump in it. It’s a fact of life that nary an ounce of poo will ever touch an outfit from Wal-Mart.
Hobby Lobbing: When I got pregnant last year, I knew that many of my beloved hobbies would fall by the wayside. To use some really poor metaphors, I fired raku, cut the cord with jewelry making, and turned off several TV shows (The Carver? I hardly knew ye.) The survivors include knitting, reading, and blogging. While I miss my old hobbies, I appreciate the ones I kept even more. I’ve noticed I really cherish the time I get to knit, I relish every book I read and I am now only watching TV shows that I am really interested in (as opposed to having something play for "background noise").
Vocal Yokel: “The Baby” has discovered his vocal cords. He has been cooing for the longest time, but as of late, has been playing with the volume control. At times, it is difficult to tell if the screeching is due to some sort of unhappiness or just extreme excitement that he was able to strong-arm his blue bunny to the ground. Kinda cute. Kinda not.
Pride is an Underrated Virtue: With all the bad news last week, I had one thing to look forward to - Wino Book Club on Saturday night. A book club where we have a wine tasting and then discuss the book. All week long, I looked forward to Saturday. You see, it was going to be my first social outing without the kid. Sure, I have Cousin J coming in 3 times a week for babysitting, but I use that time to workout at the gym and run errands. Anyway - last week, I carefully pumped bottles of breastmilk so that I could drink to my leisure. Unfortunately, I ended up “leisuring away” the evening hovered over a toilet bowl and calling X to come and pick up my sorry, puking ass ASAP. Apparently, I had forgotten about that little known concept called “pacing oneself”. To make matters worse, Arun had trouble taking a bottle that evening - he takes a bottle all the time from Cousin J but doesn’t take bottles that often from my mom or X. I felt like the world’s WORST mother EVER. There I was - drunk and puking with a crying baby desperate to nurse. I haven’t decided yet whether I will be returning to Wino Book Club or not - but I do know THIS: I never, ever want to be in a position again where I can’t take care of my son. That feeling made me more sick to my stomach than the wine itself.