Can I draw attention to something very disturbing that really has my granny panties in bunches all over this piece?
Have you read a children's short story lately? If so, did it make you uneasy and downright fearful for tomorrow's youth? Yes?! Then we're on the same page.
Specifically page 15 of Lucy Kincaid's "Now YOU can read... The Ugly Duckling" and I quote, "He flew down to the pond and settled on the water. He called to the swans. 'Please come and kill me. I am so ugly, and I am so lonely I do not want to live' ".
...........
I'm sorry wha?
IS THIS AS INSPIRATIONAL AS YOU CAN BE, LUCY? For real? Oh hell no. I actually got to this page and said, "The End, Griffin!" Poor kid has no closure. And that's what he's going to pay some therapist thousands of dollars to tell him when he's 30 and hates his mother.
And that's why Reading Rainbow is Satan's spawn.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Last Post Cont.
3. Bring rambunctious, wild, crazy, annoying dog along. Because you're already screwing with Mother Nature here, why not really piss her off?
4. Allow parents to tell everyone and their neighbor's best friend that we are coming to town and to all come over to see the new baby! Translation: come over and wipe your grubby, dirty hands all over the clean, brand new baby with no immune system.
5. Stay up way too late entertaining family with baby and proceed to attempt to go without sleep for the entire trip home.
6. Get Mastitis (just wait till I post about this one!), aka massive red swollen breast requiring antibiotics for 7 days. Fun!
7. Separate the Marital Twosome, thereby allowing outside forces like extended family and friends to intertwine themselves in baby rule decision making.
8. Lose all track of feeding and sleeping schedules and replacing the orderly system with new system of "Who the hell knows, just stick a boob in his mouth if he's crying" System*.
*This is a faulty system. We as a unit do not endorse this system.
9. Try to hold onto a shred of protectiveness over newborn infant by squirting everyone who comes within two football fields of your son with Purell Hand Sanitizer. If they resist, squirt them in the eye.
10. When everyone's thoroughly exhausted and cranky, strap 6 week old infant back in car seat and back track across Ohio, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and finally New York to your place of origin, mastitis in tow.
Summation: It's going to be a while before we do something this stupid again. Like maybe a week or two. At least.
Day 6 of being home update - Everyone's still alive. And I've only bathed the kid 234 times. I swear he likes it, see?
Monday, September 29, 2008
Raining, Pouring Etc. Etc.
One would think that life, though perpetually full of motion by nature, would at times slow down and catch it's breath from time to time. Now I'm not saying I'm a fan of stagnation. Quite the contrary, I adore change, I embrace change, I preorder Change's Christmas gifts in September, I'm so in love with change. However... Eh he hem.
The kind of change that adds shitshow to existing shitshow is not the kind I like. Let it be so noted. And so follows the list (you know how I like lists) of actions and reactions G and I committed in the last week that added up to the shitshow of shitshows of shitshows.
1. New Idiotic Parentals decide to strap their 6 week old son into a carseat and travel 8, no 9, no 10, no 12 and 1/2 hours from New York to Columbus for their own selfish needs of visiting friends and family while trying to save a buck and screw The Man by avoiding outrageous airline fuel charges.
2. Proceed to stop as little as possible en route and keep stop time to the utter minimum thereby pissing off said 6 week old and causing much screaming and gnashing of the teeth by all involved.
{Pause: screaming baby alert}
{Intermission: This post to be continued until tomorrow, when I will also start my new series, "Impressions of The Ugly Duckling and other short stories".}
The kind of change that adds shitshow to existing shitshow is not the kind I like. Let it be so noted. And so follows the list (you know how I like lists) of actions and reactions G and I committed in the last week that added up to the shitshow of shitshows of shitshows.
1. New Idiotic Parentals decide to strap their 6 week old son into a carseat and travel 8, no 9, no 10, no 12 and 1/2 hours from New York to Columbus for their own selfish needs of visiting friends and family while trying to save a buck and screw The Man by avoiding outrageous airline fuel charges.
2. Proceed to stop as little as possible en route and keep stop time to the utter minimum thereby pissing off said 6 week old and causing much screaming and gnashing of the teeth by all involved.
{Pause: screaming baby alert}
{Intermission: This post to be continued until tomorrow, when I will also start my new series, "Impressions of The Ugly Duckling and other short stories".}
Monday, September 15, 2008
Favs From the Spam Folder, cont.
"Enlargement with PERMANENT Effects!"
- For a second my postnatal brain read, "Engorgement with Permanent Effects!" and I swiftly peed my pants, passed out, and threw up at the same time.
- For a second my postnatal brain read, "Engorgement with Permanent Effects!" and I swiftly peed my pants, passed out, and threw up at the same time.
The Harvest
I am a proficient gardener. I can efficiently grow the hell out of house plants and window boxes. I'm the Dali Lama of urban gardening.
Witness The 2008 Harvest:
Say it, you've never wanted to gorge yourself on 5 Grape Tomatoes like THIS before.
*Note: no grape tomatoes were harmed during the filming of this add.
*I'm Teresa and I endorsed this message.
Today in My Life, Take 2
Below is an ever growing list of things I have done or am doing currently with a baby in a sling attached to my abdomen:
1. (Obviously) Pee.
2. Run the sweeper.
3. Eat lunch.
4. Blog/ Retrieve email/ Post pictures to Snapfish/ Edit pictures, etc (You get the idea, I'm on the computer.)
5. Clean.
6. Walk dog.
7. Do laundry.
8. Basically anything that I did before I had a baby that requires me to be upright.
Me thinks he may possibly be taking advantage of his free ride. The first 9 months were on the house, but the next 18 years are gonna cost you, Mister!
And since he's not cute when he smiles...
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Weight Loss: I'm Sorry, Who?
The affair has ended. It was brief, ye 10 months, and it was hot but now I'm back to the old ball and chain: healthy eating. The bitch.
It started off slow, I was still eating healthy the first 4 or 5 months of the pregnancy. I had small meals, about 4-5 times a day. I avoided most junk foods and used fruit as my sugar savior. I attempted to eat all of the correct servings from each food group that that smutty book, What to Expect... suggested. My weight gain was low, awesome, and everyone was complementing me on my figure. I had a few checkups and the doctor was very complimentary.
Then the French Fries happened. Then the Salt & Vinegar potato chips happened. Swiftly followed by the Vanilla Ice Cream obsession, and the Molten Chocolate Cake fiasco. Eventually, Fast Food became a food group and instead of a pyramid, my plan resembled more of a cluster diagram. Pounds were coming from everywhere, I could sit and type at the computer for a half hour and gain 4 pounds. Late in the pregnancy, I actually gained 6 pounds in one week. My inner psychologist doesn't think I'm quite ready to tell you how much total weight I gained. She'll let me know when I can.
The first few days and weeks after Grif was born I heeded the words of every nurse and boob doctor encouraging me to eat, eat, eat and even to eat carbs, carbs, carbs. I was a very good patient. A little too good. Now these remaining er-several pounds that were not part of my pre-pregnancy self are sticking to me like Gen X'ers to Barack. I can't shake'em.
Enter my new diet plan: 500 Calorie Meals from Fresh Direct and cantelope.
Vom-town U.S.A.
It started off slow, I was still eating healthy the first 4 or 5 months of the pregnancy. I had small meals, about 4-5 times a day. I avoided most junk foods and used fruit as my sugar savior. I attempted to eat all of the correct servings from each food group that that smutty book, What to Expect... suggested. My weight gain was low, awesome, and everyone was complementing me on my figure. I had a few checkups and the doctor was very complimentary.
Then the French Fries happened. Then the Salt & Vinegar potato chips happened. Swiftly followed by the Vanilla Ice Cream obsession, and the Molten Chocolate Cake fiasco. Eventually, Fast Food became a food group and instead of a pyramid, my plan resembled more of a cluster diagram. Pounds were coming from everywhere, I could sit and type at the computer for a half hour and gain 4 pounds. Late in the pregnancy, I actually gained 6 pounds in one week. My inner psychologist doesn't think I'm quite ready to tell you how much total weight I gained. She'll let me know when I can.
The first few days and weeks after Grif was born I heeded the words of every nurse and boob doctor encouraging me to eat, eat, eat and even to eat carbs, carbs, carbs. I was a very good patient. A little too good. Now these remaining er-several pounds that were not part of my pre-pregnancy self are sticking to me like Gen X'ers to Barack. I can't shake'em.
Enter my new diet plan: 500 Calorie Meals from Fresh Direct and cantelope.
Vom-town U.S.A.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Today in My Life
This will start a new series of my own invention: Today in my life...
Today in my life, I applied conditioner to my hair immediately after soaping it with shampoo.
And voila! Pert plus! Who knew?
Today in my life, I applied conditioner to my hair immediately after soaping it with shampoo.
And voila! Pert plus! Who knew?
Breastfeeding: WTF?
Yes, I have touched briefly on the trials and tribulations associated with breastfeeding your first child. Boys, you should read on for the sake of your relationship when your spouse decides to torture herself with attempting to breastfeed your children, I'll keep the specifics to a minimum.
Let it be said, that one would think after centuries of evolution babies would enter the world with at least some clue on how to secure a food supply in order to survive. Now this is not asking much, I believe, because we're not asking them to be potty trained, or be able to clothe themselves, or even to avoid dangerous predators. Just f*$%ing eat when we give you food! Whoops, earmuffs.
Now, not all the fault lies with the baby here. Mother Nature, the spiteful bitch that she is, throws several more curve balls at First-time Mommy. Not only does your little one have no idea what to do with a nipple, oh no, as an added bonus you don't have any milk in your nipples for at least 2-5 days. So basically you're saying, "Here Baby, here's your method of obtaining food. Only hang out for a few days, because they're empty". If I went to a restaurant, and I'm not an obnoxious consumer, and after ordering my food the waiter hands me an empty plate and says the food will arrive in 2-5 days? Me? Not so happy. I'd have the BBB on that restaurant's ass faster than you can say Health Violation.
Let's refresh: A. Baby has no idea what nip is for. B. Nip is empty. And C. when nip begins to fill, it fills so fast and so much that Baby can no longer latch onto it and therefore starves and everyone dies a bloody death.
[Sidebar: I'm pretty sure they left that chapter out of La Leche League's "Art of Breastfeeding" book. But I'm sure as hell not done talking about it.]
After several days of hell on Earth, you go visit your pediatrician who delightfully tells you your baby is starving to death and why aren't you feeding it you bad, bad, BAD LADY/MOTHER. Oh right! I'm supposed to feed it? Like I haven't spent every minute of every day since it popped out of my uterus trying to suffocate it with my gargantuan breasts in every attempt to feed it? Oh, silly me. I totally want my money back from Childbirth Class.
So in the end, you wind up feeding your baby formula from a bottle, EVIL OF ALL EVILS. And then you stupidly wait a week before contacting the proper authorities* to get you on the path to breastfeeding success. Because ultimately, you are as dumb as a prehistoric cave mom. Congratulations!
(I'm thinking of saving that last paragraph for a pitch to Hallmark.)
Let it be said, that one would think after centuries of evolution babies would enter the world with at least some clue on how to secure a food supply in order to survive. Now this is not asking much, I believe, because we're not asking them to be potty trained, or be able to clothe themselves, or even to avoid dangerous predators. Just f*$%ing eat when we give you food! Whoops, earmuffs.
Now, not all the fault lies with the baby here. Mother Nature, the spiteful bitch that she is, throws several more curve balls at First-time Mommy. Not only does your little one have no idea what to do with a nipple, oh no, as an added bonus you don't have any milk in your nipples for at least 2-5 days. So basically you're saying, "Here Baby, here's your method of obtaining food. Only hang out for a few days, because they're empty". If I went to a restaurant, and I'm not an obnoxious consumer, and after ordering my food the waiter hands me an empty plate and says the food will arrive in 2-5 days? Me? Not so happy. I'd have the BBB on that restaurant's ass faster than you can say Health Violation.
Let's refresh: A. Baby has no idea what nip is for. B. Nip is empty. And C. when nip begins to fill, it fills so fast and so much that Baby can no longer latch onto it and therefore starves and everyone dies a bloody death.
[Sidebar: I'm pretty sure they left that chapter out of La Leche League's "Art of Breastfeeding" book. But I'm sure as hell not done talking about it.]
After several days of hell on Earth, you go visit your pediatrician who delightfully tells you your baby is starving to death and why aren't you feeding it you bad, bad, BAD LADY/MOTHER. Oh right! I'm supposed to feed it? Like I haven't spent every minute of every day since it popped out of my uterus trying to suffocate it with my gargantuan breasts in every attempt to feed it? Oh, silly me. I totally want my money back from Childbirth Class.
So in the end, you wind up feeding your baby formula from a bottle, EVIL OF ALL EVILS. And then you stupidly wait a week before contacting the proper authorities* to get you on the path to breastfeeding success. Because ultimately, you are as dumb as a prehistoric cave mom. Congratulations!
(I'm thinking of saving that last paragraph for a pitch to Hallmark.)
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Pretty Sure Hef Co-Wrote These Lyrics
I didn't realize until Grif was born that I do not know many nursery rhymes or at least, the correct words to many nursery rhymes.
Witness:
Hush little baby, don't say a word. Momma's gonna buy you a Mocking Bird (Okay, you're with me there right? Well, read on...)
And if that Mocking Bird won't sing, Momma's gonna buy you a Diamond Ring (Still okay...)
And if that Diamond Ring won't shine, Momma's gonna buy you a New Cheese Rind? (Wheels falling off...)
And if that Cheese Rind starts to smell, Momma's gonna buy you a Bucket and a Well? (Anxiety starting about rhyming off the cuff...)
And if that Bucket and Well runs dry, Momma's gonna buy you an Apple Pie?
Let's just say from there the list of things Momma got him included a Dog named Rover, a Four Leaf Clover, a Washing Machine, a Playboy Magazine, a Date with a Model, and also some imaginary things that I can't remember anymore.
Yikes Griffin, yikes.
Witness:
Hush little baby, don't say a word. Momma's gonna buy you a Mocking Bird (Okay, you're with me there right? Well, read on...)
And if that Mocking Bird won't sing, Momma's gonna buy you a Diamond Ring (Still okay...)
And if that Diamond Ring won't shine, Momma's gonna buy you a New Cheese Rind? (Wheels falling off...)
And if that Cheese Rind starts to smell, Momma's gonna buy you a Bucket and a Well? (Anxiety starting about rhyming off the cuff...)
And if that Bucket and Well runs dry, Momma's gonna buy you an Apple Pie?
Let's just say from there the list of things Momma got him included a Dog named Rover, a Four Leaf Clover, a Washing Machine, a Playboy Magazine, a Date with a Model, and also some imaginary things that I can't remember anymore.
Yikes Griffin, yikes.
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