Thou Shalt Not Cut (Your Mother)

Very, very soon, MB, Baby L and I will be on vacation in Las Vegas, staying at a condo with my mom. My mom has graciously assumed the role of designated baby watcher while we are there, considering that MB and I will not only be on our first vacation, but also kind of on our honeymoon. I am super grateful that she has offered to do this. And that she will be there, because I for one, could definitely NOT leave and go on vacation WITHOUT Baby L because I would be stricken with guilt the whole time. And I would miss her little cheeks so much, I’m sure I would be on the first flight back home. That said, there are some things that worry me about my mom watching the baby. Not because she isn’t totally capable and competent, but because this baby is MINE. And I, like my mother, am sort of a crazy control freak. (To my credit, however, I don’t think I am quite as bad as my mom. If I were, I wouldn’t be able to hack my current living situation with the grace that I have thus far.) But two crazy control freaks, in one place, with one defenseless little lady…well, this could be bad. But I know my baby better than my mom does. Whether or not she raised two kids already. That was a bazillion years ago, mom, and my baby is an INDIVIDUAL.

20121011-102107.jpgFor instance, when we started rice cereal a few weeks ago, you first told me that I should mix it in with her bottle at night and it would help her sleep. A couple of things:

1. The doctor advised against giving her cereal in the bottle and suggested I spoon feed because there is less chance that she will aspirate cereal. Aspirating cereal does not sound like fun. Especially for a baby, who cannot say, “HELP! I have aspirated cereal!”

2. Cereal does not help this baby sleep. Infact, quite the opposite. MY baby likes to stay awake for 4 hours AFTER nighttime cereal. Did you hear that, Mom?! FOUR HOURS. For the love of all that is holy, PLEASE DO NOT GIVE MY BABY CEREAL AT NIGHT. I will murder you.

I am sure that when I advise my mom of this, she will not take my word for it but decide that she needs to see for herself. Then Baby L will be up at 3am, squirming around and NOT SLEEPING. And then my mom will bitch all of the next day because she didn’t get any sleep.

And then I will cut her.

The end.


Trying to Maintain

I used to be a little annoyed when my friends started to drop off of the face of the planet because they had babies. In fact, the minute they announced pregnancy, I couldn’t help but feel a little let down. Like, “Another One Bites the Dust” was playing in the background of that conversation, every time I had it with someone. Because, you know, when someone has a baby, they are never quite the same. And, as you get older, one by one, your Happy Hour partners get picked off and start spending time researching carseats and holistic remedies and then there is no one to drink martinis with. And this lady doesn’t like to drink martinis alone.

When I got pregnant, I knew that things would change. And during the pregnancy I became a hermit. Partially because I felt so hideous that the thought of leaving the house made me cringe and partially because I had become “that pregnant friend” who can’t do any of the fun stuff. No Happy Hours. No martinis. No fun at all.

Once I had Baby L, I thought that, at least for the most part, I would go back to being the same person I was before I got pregnant. And I did. Mostly. Only now, I am less concerned with Happy Hour and more concerned with carseats and holistic cold remedies. And there is nothing wrong with that. But I do have an understanding now that I didn’t before. My friends have fallen off the face of the planet because raising kids requires, not only your undivided attention, but also a whole lot of persistence. And patience. And sacrifice. And I’m totally cool with that. At least…I am now.

And I see now, how difficult it can be to maintain friendships when the only time you get to make phone calls is in the middle of the night because that’s when the baby is sleeping. And you aren’t doing laundry. Or sucking snot out of someone’s nose. And I see some of my friends becoming a little resentful. Or distant. And, it isn’t that I don’t care. Its just that I have a lot more important things to think about now. I can’t attend every gathering. Or meet everyone for lunch with a sick, cranky baby. Or drink wine in the middle of the day. And I won’t apologize for that. And I say to those friends, “I ain’t mad atcha” for being a little distant. Because when you had your kids, I probably stayed away. You know, to avoid snot. And crying. And all that shit that mommies deal with. Because, you know, I wasn’t a mommy. And I didn’t want to deal with it.

What does surprise me, however, is that the friends of mine who HAVE kids are the ones who are seemingly the most impatient with me. Like, they are the ones who seem irritated when I can’t attend things because I can’t get a sitter. And that’s confusing. Because, excuse me friends with kids, but remember when sometimes you don’t have someone to watch your kid(s)? Or they are puking? Or your house is covered in slime because everyone has a cold? Remember? Yeah. That’s where I’m at. (Obviously, this isn’t directed at every one of my friends with kids, because some of you rock my face off, regardless of puking or colds or what have you…)

Friendships are hard. And now I understand that I might have been one of the people who made them harder for some of you guys with little ones…because I just really didn’t get it. But I got you now. Loud and clear, universe. LOUD. AND. CLEAR.

And…Now for More SNOT!

So, I don’t really get sick a lot. Sometimes, I go so long in between illnesses that I forget what it feels like to be sick and then when people around me have colds, I find myself cussing them in my head and calling them pansies. (Men, especially. But they tend to be exceptionally whiney when it comes to colds.)

Then, my baby got a cold. And then I convinced that she had everything from swine flu to whooping cough.  And then she got better. And eventually, even though she was still a little stuffy, she was back to her normal, cheerful self. She went back to sleeping all night and cooing at me all morning while we played with her toys.

And then I got a cold.

It started with a sore throat, which escalated to the point that it felt as though I had attempted to eat a few sheets of sandpaper and a headache that felt sort of like the top of my head was going to just pop right off. And a little clown was going to pop out. (I just pictured my head as a Jack-in-the-Box, in case you didn’t catch that…) And I was okay with having a cold, because 1. I had wine and 2. I am not a pansy.

Eventually, though, I realized that wine does not cure a cold. And, though I still was not a pansy, I realized that, “hey. I feel kind of shitty. That’s no good.” and then I went to sleep. And MB’s mom watched Baby L for a few hours in the morning so I could bury myself in my down comforter and pretend that I was living back in those days when I still had time to bury myself in my comforter for several hours and sleep. When I woke up, I felt better. But still not quite human. There was no more sandpaper. And the little clown had kept himself contained.  I finished out yesterday feeling tired, but generally, you know, not like  a pansy.  And then about 1 o’clock this morning, Baby L woke up and sounded like she had taken all the snot from everyone else in the whole house and jammed it into her tiny face. And so I changed her, fed her, slathered her with baby chest rub and turned on that humidifier thing (that everyone tells me to use, but that seems to make absolutely no difference in the amount of snot that my baby keeps in her face). All seemed to be well (except for the fact that now, I couldn’t sleep because I could only breathe out of my left nostril and only if I was laying on the left side of my body, which I can’t do because that’s just not how I roll.  Oh yeah, and because I was obsessing over the possibility that Baby L would suffocate on all the snot.

Because Baby L sleeps through the night, I rarely panic anymore about something tragic happening while I rest, (this is not to say that I don’t sometimes check 47 times at night to make sure she’s breathing…but now it is only sometimes and not, you know, every night…) but let me tell you…after I got done with that bulb thing, I couldn’t imagine there being anything left in there…but there was, internet, there really, really was…So…I broke down at  4:30 when she woke up, practically snorting, and gave her Benadryl (before you get all crazy-pants on me, internet, this is what the doctor TOLD me to do…) and it helped. And she did super good until around 10:30 when she had her second bottle. And then the snorty screaming started. There were saline drops, there was nose-suckage, there were tears. (Many of which were mine.) And about an hour ago, there was another dose of Benadryl.

And now, either my baby is just high, or she is feeling better. Maybe a little bit of both. But how much snot does one person have to endure!?