Motherhood Uncensored

2nd Child My Butt

I've heard from several second children that parental neglect starts early.

"You just won't have time to take as many pictures."

"Nothing's really as cute the second time around."

"Baby book? HAHAHAHA."

And sure. I can sort of see that happening. Hell. I barely have any sort of baby book for Quinlan. Just a little journal with way too many tear stained pages highlighting what foods I could not eat and what little quirky things she did.

You know. The good stuff.

But with this child, I'm not so concerned with that as I am more concerned about dear #1. As a breastfeed-on-demand mom, I've got a baby attached to me almost constantly. And while I know I'm only in DAY #4 of a very long year ahead, I think a lot about my firstborn. I want her to have things and toys and time that are her own and not always connected with #2. And I imagine when #2 gets older, I'll want the same for him as well.

I know as I am able to leave the house, it will be easier. Cripes. It's just been one week but it feels like one month. And I'm even thinking about a little 2-hour preschool time for her (she's been begging to play with other kids) along with her ballet class.

Any other suggestions? How can I keep track of milestones for him and still maintain my sanity? What are some fun mom/toddler outings? HELP!

Greetings From the Land of Breast Pads and Hershey Squirts

Before you all run off with Gail, I figure I'd better make a comeback. And a damn good one at that!

*ahem lazy bloglines readers... that's the cue for you to click through*

Yes. As you heard through many warm and kind channels, Baby Chalk (aka Drew) arrived faster than my last orgasm.

Heh.

Basically, I woke up on Thursday morning convinced that my water bag was leaking. "Does pee usually run down my leg?" I asked myself. Apparently, it (or the other 140 fluids that leak from a very pregnant woman) does.

And so, I had resigned myself to another few days of rolling around like a large walrus on dry land. But short contractions started around 6pm, I fell asleep through all of them until 1am, and then my water broke at 2am.

Thanks to Google Maps, we got fairly lost, and no thanks to the hospital staff "We've got mapquest up right now, sir. Where did you say you were?", a weird cabbie "Just drive about 15 blocks that way and turn left" (eh, not so much), and finally, a girl talking to someone in a car on the street at 2:30am who actually knew where the hell to tell us to go (no she was not a hooker... I think), we made it.

I was 5cm at 3:00am, fully dilated at 5:01am, Drew made his entrance at 5:11am, and I was sipping mimosas (no lie) by 10am. I'm living proof that all labors (even your own) can be totally different.

The only difficult part, in all of this, is that I had to come home to the in-laws, where no one holds babies or changes their diapers, and no matter how little sleep or running after a toddler you and your husband are doing, you still need to "clean up after yourselfs" (as the post-it note clearly stated on our door).  The situation here (read: my crazy drunk father-in-law who has about 40 years of being pissed at his wife and is projecting that onto all of us and is not speaking to us) combined with my lack of sleep, raging hormones, and a baby who wanted to cry for almost 3 hour straight last night, is almost getting the better of me. To top it off, I'm feeling an incredible sense of loss in terms of time and moments with my daughter.

Basically, I'm just a bit of a wreck - granted, a thinner one, but an unshowered, engorged boobed one who remembered to pack her breast pump but NONE of the accessories...

So, aside from trying to find an apartment and our ticket out of this hell hole, we're thoroughly enjoying baby bliss. Or whatever it is that we're in right now.

Thanks so much for all your warm wishes and thoughtful words. There's something to be said about "the village" at times like this.

Google Vs. The Post-Partum Mother

I think it took me all of 2 hours being home before I was on google searching for the answer to all my ridiculous questions:

1) Newborn sleep patterns (read: holy crap I don't remember my daughter sleeping this much ever in her lifetime).

2) Jaundice symptoms (read: my baby is turning yellow and it's not because he's 1/4 Chinese).

3) Newborn Breastfeeding Poop (read: you'd think after 21 months of breastfeeding I'd know what was normal, but since my daughter never had normal poop, then I really don't know).

I love the internet, but seriously, they should put a lock on WebMD and Google. The ridiculous answers mixed with crazy hormones and fear of pooping is enough to get someone committed. I even, for ONE second, was wishing I had my "What to Expect" book.

I know. Blasphemy.

And if you're wondering why I showed up at your blog 14 times yesterday, that was me, searching for "sore nipples cure."

Now back to trying to figure out how the hell to keep track of all these damn tiny socks. And I'll announce the winner(s) of the baby pool shortly.

Just Drew

Drew Douglas, 8' 10", 21.5 inches, 1/19/07

Did you win?

Apparently This is What My Baby is Waiting for in Order to Make His Timely Arrival: (Read: He's Never Coming Out)

The end of the Donald and Rosie fiasco.

A smile and cheerful word from my mother-in-law.

The Catholic church to accept female priests and gay marriage.

My husband's libido to return for exile.

Bridgette Nielson's timely exit from any television show.

My still sick 18 week pregnant bff being able to eat an entire chocolate cake (or even just a piece) and not vomit.

Johnny Depp himself actually offering to stimulate my nipples with.his.mouth.

Playboy calling to invite me to be their May 2007 centerfold.

Dooce to comment on my blog.

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Added: People to heed my word and put The Blog Exchange website on their regular read list. (The call for the February 1 Blog Exchange is up and running -- you didn't think just because I'm due any second I'd cancel, now did you?).