Showing posts from July, 2009

200 is such a daunting number.

Ta-tas. Ta-tas with talent. I have ta-tas with talent. They give my little one life and it is all because of me. Not Enfamil. Not Similac. Not Publix brand formula. M-E. Little E and I have twenty minute meetings seven times a day. It's a wonder I get anything done. By seven, it is more like six. But, if it is anything over four... what is the difference?!
If you know anything about me, I like planning. Correction, I love planning. And I like Excel sheets. I am terrible at math, but I love numbers. For instance, before giving birth an excel sheet was created for the best price of diapers in the area. THEN, that just was not good enough. Husband said that babies grow 10 grams a day for the first x weeks, and 10 grams equal x percentage of a pound and newborns diapers go up to eight pounds... based on this nugget of knowledge, 6.5 pound Eileen would be in newborn diapers for.... 5.5 weeks (and use approximately 11 diapers a day, exceeding 400 diapers total) And she was. To the date.…

Babies in bonnets, nothing is better

Little e and I went to church this morning. I was proud as a peacock dressing teeny in her Feltman Brothers dress and sweet bonnet walking down to St. Marys. Her in her stroller and I making the walk down McDowell- March of The Catholics- we headed to church.
Eileen was fantastic, sleeping in my arms throughout mass. The couple next to me, with their two hellions were in a constant battle keeping them quiet, forget tepid. Seeing what I had to look forward to in the coming years, I put a small kiss on her forehead thanking God for a simple miracle of a sleeping babe in the silence between prayers.
In a very un-ladylike way, she released a gas pain. The mother of the two children looked at me & like 10 year old girls, we both giggled quietly.
Two readings later, a pause between song and words... E had something else to be heard.
The pregnant woman in front of me, dashing in her white slacks, sassy haircut, and turquoise necklace... obviously her F…

Back in the Kitchen

My favorite thing to do is make a HUGE meal and invite 18 of our closest friends over for wine, appetizers, and supper. I spend all afternoon making a disaster in the kitchen whipping up something a little over average, a little less than amazing and Husband swoops in ten minutes before the doorbell rings and all hell breaks loose to make it absolutely sparkling. I zip in the shower & the fun begins.

A minimum of five bottles of wine & 36 dirty dishes later, the night comes to an end. Husband and I revel in what a great time we had. Our friends leave with full stomachs and the mildest of morning headaches.

Since being pregnant, my headache in the whole process has disappeared. But since being super SUPER pregnant, my good times in the kitchen have subsided. The idea of spending more than 240 seconds on my feet unless I absolutely HAD to was more than painful.

Husband and Wife had dates that involved chicken salad (store bought), Campbell's soup, and lots and lots of grilled…

Brad Merry, Baby Whisperer

I have a good baby. I really do. She eats every 3-4 hours. She almost sleeps through the night- only one feeding. She spits up a lot but at least she is consistent. But sometimes, sometimes, she starts crying in the afternoon- her fussy time- and she. just. won't. stop. Nothing. Not one thing can calm that little Bob Marley Wailer. We feed, we change her diaper, we try "tummy time" (something my brother, of all people, told me about), we swing, we walk outside.... we try every trick I have learned in the last five weeks. Just sometimes though, it will not end. The little Stay Puft Marshmellow Man tells it like it is. And it is, apparently, loud and painful.

But, oh, Brother. Not "oh brother" but "oh...Brother"-- my Brother is the baby whisperer.

She will not stop crying because it is so blasted hot- poof! Brad swoops in with those big arms and voila! my baby is quiet. She will not stop because it is too freaking cold- baddabing! Brad finds a little cr…