Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Ticka Ticka Ticka....

That is the sound I make when I tickle bebe E. Ticka Ticka Ticka, she laughs so I Ticka some more. She has most definitely found her voice. She lies in her bed most mornings at 6:30am and gets her grudge on. Meaning, she sounds like the dead Japanese lady who makes that scary noise on The Grudge. Who thought up that and who thought that would scare me? The sound never scared me, it was that weird slinking down the stairs creepily with a dead face thing she did. And who thought a pale face Japanese boy would be scary looking at you from the stairs? Also, who told Sarah Michelle Gellar she could act?

I'm off track as usual, sorry. But she loves to talk now. I say to her all day, "Momma...Dadda...Momma...Dadda...Momma...Momma...Momma" ...see where I'm going with this?

I think her first words will be "Previously on 24".

Jack Bauer can rescue me any day.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Ahhh...and it tastes so good.

Momma, thanks for Sophie. She's the bees knees.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

I miss bubble lips.

That is what Wilson lovingly refers to our baby girl as, bubble lips. She likes to make spit bubbles and drool from head to toe. She's a train of drool. "Hop on the Spit Train. Next stop, Toe Town." See, it drops from her mouth to her toes.

Anyway, I miss that little drool face right now as I sit at my desk daydreaming about taking a little nap with her and just watching her grow. Sometimes I feel like she is growing up too fast and I'm missing out on something, even though I see her everyday and just work 2 days a week. Today I had to greet the nanny since Wilson was out of town (he leaves for work later than I do). It was hard. Real hard. I didn't think it would be. I think it was because usually I head out before Elizabeth wakes up or sees me and this time she watched me walk out the front door. Waving goodbye and telling her I love her and blowing her kisses. I felt horrible as I got in the car. But she didn't blink an eye, she smiled and watched me and was so happy. Which I am so thankful for. She is good with other people, she is not a clingy baby, but she is still 4 months so she hasn't hit that stage yet.

But something inside me wanted her to be sad. To need me. Not that I want my baby crying and screaming and kicking the floor for Momma, just a little reach out, a little "maaaaa...wwaaaaa". Nothing. I will always want her to need me, and I will always be there for her.

I want to go home and see her smile.



I'm waiting for you Momma!!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

I hate frogs...

Literally ... to tired ... to write. But I will!

I work 2 days a week. 2 days!!! that's nothing. It's a cakewalk compared to all those other jerks out in the workforce.

I think what's making it hard is I have to get up before 6am (if I can hear my alarm and make myself shlump out of bed) on my 2 days of work, plus get up the rest of the week early, sometimes the same time or earlier to either feed, roc
k, sing, bounce, whatever the girl wants at that ungodly hour of the night. I'm not complaining, I asked for it when I took that ovulation test and it gave us the green light. 3 weeks later I was with child and my sleepy fate was sealed.

What? It's 4am. You don't want to talk right now? Look at me, I'm bursting with gossip!

I've never been so tired in all my life. It's a tired like no other I have ever felt, sucking the awesome out of me. I dream of sleeping even when I'm asleep. Take last night, I slept horrible, waking up in a sweat, but not wanting to get out of bed or move the covers for fear she would know I was up and want to talk about it. I wake up in the middle of the night even when she doesn't, that's how light of a sleeper I am now. I lie awake in bed even while my husband feeds the baby or quiets her on those nights of the days I work...I think
because I'm a mom and I can't relax enough to let someone else take care of her. It's her father dammit! Geez! Eh, it's normal I guess and annoying. My back is paying for it too, stressed and in constant knots.

I feel guilty sometimes for wanting to take a vacation. A sleep vacation. I don't dream of going out at night, taking in a movie or dinner (even though a dinner that doesn't involve holding a baby or watching someone else hold the baby would be nice). I dream of cold pretty beds with fluffy comforters, sleep till noon, breakfast in bed and naps....not in my house. It's too messy and full of dust and dog hair to relax.

I thought once I was able to stay home I could get something done around there for a change. Have some "me" time...I knew I would be tired, but I would be productive. But like so so so many people told me...babies are a 24/7 job and there is no "me" time, there is no sleeping, or cleaning time and you won't be home cooking glorious meals every night.
What happens is you try to do a load of laundry but the baby doesn't have that plan in store for you, she wants you to look at her, hold her, feed her...and she might let you walk away for 5 minutes, but the minute Momma gets right in the middle of a task she really can't leave to finish later...baby wants your attention again. She's a hot mess. A blazing mess of baby cuteness I can't help but run to when she calls out "maaaaaaa...waaaaaaa". Or when she's had enough of that damn spinnin' frog on her walker.

I should just blame the frog.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Golden Girls

Ready for the winter storm. Or maybe just waiting for mom to stop taking pictures and get on with making me some milk, geez!

I have to admit it...my baby rocks! She's totally cuter than yours. Just kidding. Well, ok...just kidding. I mean, we all think our baby is the cutest thing since slice and bake cookies. Which I wish I was eating right now. mmmm, warm gooey cookies. Or cold raw dough. Either way I'd eat a whole roll, slap my fat ass on a couch and...wait, is that Salt and Pepper I hear. "Ooo baby baby, baby baby...ahhhh Push it!" Yes, it was. Sorry got sidetracked by my coworkers ring tone. Who chooses that as a ring tone, really? and he's a 50 year old man. Totally thrown by that.

So, I'd slap my fat ass on a couch and watch some Golden Girls reruns. Does anyone else love the Golden Girls like I do? I'm obsessed with them. Me and my two girlfriends have said that if one day we all end up alone when we are old we will move to Miami and drink coffee out on our lanai and thank each other for being a friend.

I'd rather be the dumb one. She's not a slut, a giant man or a small chihuahua. Look at me, I'm the Saint Olaf Butter Queen!

It comes on the Hallmark channel for like 5 hours in the morning and then for like 5 hours in the mid day on Lifetime and then on again at night for god knows how long....eeeeeEEEEEeee!!!
You could watch every episode ever made of these grannies in like a week. Or you could get a life.

But I'd much rather watch Rose make potato bacon and lettuce sandwiches, see Dorothy hit Rose with a newspaper, hear about Blanche's latest fling and watch Sophia carry her purse from the kitchen to the living room. They comfort me, like a cup of tea. Old musty tea, steeping in wrinkled laydee leaves. I can't wait to be old sometimes.

Eh, come to think of it, I'd rather spend it with my hubby than in a house in Miami with two horny old women. It's humid here, but that humidity in Miami can suck it.




Friday, January 8, 2010

No daughter of mine...

I tried to reason with a 4 month old today. I told my daughter that under no circumstances is she to go and get pregnant at 16 and then have the aftermath taped for television.

I don't know what
is more disturbing. That I'm watching this show Teen Mom on MTV, no, taping this show so I don't miss it, or that I am talking like an adult to my 4 month old and telling her about the dangers of teen pregnancy. It scares the crap outta of me. The TV show does, not talking birds and bees to my daughter. I think I'll be able to handle that when the time comes.

The show follows 4 teenage girls. Each girl has a unique experience giving birth (at 16 y'all) and raising their children. One gives hers up for adoption, a loss so great I don't know how she had the strength to do it. The other 3 kept their babies and each has a different (ridiculous) family structure, not one I am envious of . Each freak me out differently and I am so glad I never had to go through what these girls are having to go through. Raising a baby at 30 is hard. Raising a baby at 16 makes me want to kick balls. And that ain't easy when you're holding a baby.

Of course, she didn't listen to word I said. She laughed, drooled and slapped her knee.


Laughing at my teen pregnancy speech

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Reaching new feet

She's found her feet! Tiny toes and fingers stretching and reaching and vying for my attention. I'm watching little girl and I'm taking a picture!

"Dude, it's just feet."

It's more than just feet to me. When she first pooed I was thrilled and talked about it for days. Why is it that parents gush over our little ones bodily functions? I don't do a jig every time I relieve myself and then talk about it's color and how many times a day I went, throw a party and mark it on my calendar as the Great Poop of 2010. I do however marvel at the fact that Liz can sometimes poop once a day, every other day or twice a day. Why? Why not just everyday. She likes to switch things up I guess and keep us on our toes.

Toes. Oh, right, back to the feet.

Those feet that kicked my uterine wall, jumped up and down on my bladder, played footsie with my spine...are now in her mouth.

She's simply amazing!

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

This one...

Vulli Sophie

This cute little giraffe. This soft sweet baby giraffe that I must have. Her name is Sophie and she's by Vulli. "I have to buy this now!", I scream with delight.
My daughter will be teething soon and as I sit here and stare at its cuteness on Amazon.com, I'm tempted to buy 2 because the first one might a) not make it to my front door through the fine US Mail, b) deflate on the way here, c) the mailman might feel the need to take Sophie for ransom due to her cuteness, or d) the dogs might get to her and chew her ear off. D is the most likely outcome. I click "Add to Shopping Cart".
Sophie is not just a teether, she is so much more. She is my whip to my cream, my a la mode to my pie, my chocolate chip to my cookie...my fat to my ass. She is all that and more and I know it will become Liz's favorite toy. Right? If I love it that much, she will too. She will. SHE WILL!

Ok, she might hate the damn thing. She might put it to her baby lips, gum it and throw it to the floor. I'll fall to the ground to rescue Sophie and Liz will just laugh her evil baby laugh which mostly involves a fake cough. She is a faker, that baby is. She'll raise her no haired eyebrows and smile, stick her little turtle neck out and shoot Sophie the finger.

See Elizabeth here, right before she flipped off the driver who cut in front of us.
He had it coming, he just didn't know know how cute it would be.


Damn that baby is a genius! She's only 4 months. I know, right. She could be applying for scholarships but I have her on a strict routine. Eat, play, sleep, eat, stare at dog... So maybe next month.
With 420 reviews on Amazon, all positive, this friggin' toy better step up when it hits my mailbox or heads will roll. Will ROLL!