teething dream

My daughter is teething, and she's started whimpering in her sleep in the early hours of the morning.
The Result: Mummy has weird dreams.
I had a graphic dream where my daughter opened her mouth, unhinging her jaw like a Hungry Hungry Hippo, and I could see multitudes of little teeth, some just visable beneath raw open gums and some growing from other teeth.

J'Adore Dior... or not so much

Miss B has a better wardrobe than her Momma thanks to huge sacks of hand me downs from the sister of a friend of mine. I don't buy big fashion labels new, but I am pretty easily impressed if I find them second hand, but often dissapointed:

This is a hand me down, and probably at least 5 years old, but I looked it up and similar suits run $59.99-69.99 new.

For clarification, this is a Baby Dior, but it's 100% polyester, which to me is like a fashion oxymoron.

Also, my mom thinks it's super cute, and I do not.

Here's supermodel Baby B modelling her Christian Dior.

And labels for those skeptical as to the authenticity of a polyester Dior:

this is what B thinks of your allergies:

She'll be 6 months old in 9 days. She can pull herself into a standing position, and is getting better at giving hugs everyday.

So, yesterday I sent Baby B off with her great grandparents for the day, and I spent the day cleaning my house, doing art projects and missing her. It was about 8 hours, and was the longest we've ever been apart.
The Great Grands said she was good, and didn't cry that whole time. When she got home, she'd fallen asleep in the car so I took her to bed and took a nap with her. When she woke up, she made sure I was aware of her extreme displeasure and needed to be held for the rest of the evening.
Last night, as a delightful side effect of both our day apart, and I'm sure, the fact that I've been watching the Bad Girls series, I had nightmares about being in prison and having my babies either taken from me, or having them die.

I won't actually need to get used to being apart from Baby B for about 5 years when she starts school, but I was thinking about how if I were American, and unable/undesiring to leave the workforce, my maternity leave would already have ended a whole month ago. This is a psychologically wrenching notion to me. The thought that I'd be relinquishing control over how my child is raised (what if the only Daycare I could afford parks the kids in front of "educational" videos? What if they're so understaffed they can't interact one on one with my baby? What if they teach her to be ashamed of her body and it's functions? What if they re-enforce gender stereotypes (the only princesses in our house carry swords, thanks)) is stomach turning, to say nothing of the timing being right when most babies are just deciding that their Mum is the only gal for them. Baby B. certainly has.
In any case, I really don't need to be apart from my baby. I might let her Great Grands take her for 4 hour stints once in a while, but the 8 hours was a little excessive, at least for the moment.

Anyway, heres the trick she's been doing for the past 4 or so days...

like a dropkick to the eyesocket

So, sometimes when I'm on facebook, I click on the photo albums of friends of friends. Usually if it's a baby album I click it, because I get curious about the stupid things people name thier kids, and because as a new mom, I like to see what the other babies my daughter's age look like (mostly they look pretty generic, but once in a while theres one that looks like someone shaved a chimpanzee, or like krang is thier biological father .)
Anyway, I click on an album that one of my cousins had commented on and I got about 3 images past the photo where she'd given her dutiful "oh isn't he precious" when all of a sudden....
BAM!!!...
...Nutsack!!!
Sweet jesus, I thought! This has to be some kind of entrapment senario! I quickly clicked to the next image, trying to distance myself from the extreme closeup crotchshot assault, but alas, like a dropkick to the eyesocket:
BAM!!!...
More Nutsack
BAM!!!...
yet again, more Nutsack!

Shaken, I gathered my wits about me, and managed to think clearly enough to just hit home, but I still feel pretty scarred.

I wonder what would posess a kids parent to take a picture of his junk and publish it to a public album on the internet? Where ANYBODY, not just bitches like me, but real live scary nutjobs can see it? Correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't the existance of internet crotch-shots be the kid's decision, when he's 18 or older?

Baby B on her birthday

She was due july 30, and I had an appointment on July 29 in the morning. My husband dropped me off, uncomfortable with the idea of being in the room during a pelvic exam. I'd seen a number of obstetricians, they all shared an office, so they saw each others' patients if, say, one doctor were busy delivering someone elses baby.

This time instead of my also-pregnant-lady-doc, I was seeing Doctor charming-but-unsettlingly-young. In light of it being only one day ahead of my due date, the doctor announced that he was going to do a "sweep" to "stir things up" and that I'd probably go into labor within the next few days, and that he'd be doing deliveries on the weekend, so he might see me then.

The cramping started as soon as I left the office. I started copying down descriptions and times of my various pangs. I called my mum, I took a long nap, I woke up. I noticed and noted a small gush of warm fluid, noted it and tried to make dinner. We watched "I love you man". My sister-and-then-roomate went out for the night, telling us to call if anything happened. I called telecare and based on the fluid loss a few hours earlier they advised us to head to the hospital, where we arrived around 1130pm. We'd been reluctant to leave too hastily, as our douchebag neighbors were throwing a party, and we'd lose our parking spot if we were sent home again. we were not sent home.

We left my sister a message, but decided not to call anyone until after the birth.

When we arrived, I was considering forgoing drugs, due to my fear of needles. I was offered the use of a jaccuzzi tub, but I couldnt seem to stop shivering. and got out as soon as I thought it would be polite. I almost immediately changed my mind about drugs. Labour felt like debilitating menstrual cramps while having my legs wrenched out of my hip sockets. I was given an IV, and later an epidural, which only effected the right side of my body. This is when I found out I have scoliosis.

The doctors on duty that night happened to be Doctor Pregnant-Lady and Doctor Andy-The -Student. Doctor Preggo supervised Doctor Andy breaking the amniotic sack. It was super reassuring that he needed to be told which end of the medical instument he was supposed to use.

My nurse told me that if at any point, if I felt like I needed to have a bowel movement, to let her know. She said that when this happened, I'd need to bear down into the pressure. Basically, "wait until you feel like taking a shit, and then try really hard to take that shit"

The contractions, and the tearing are nothing to the feeling of the skin around ones vagina being stretched to accomodate an entire human being. at one point I thought Dr. Preggo must be driving her fingernails into me, when she wasn't even touching me. My clitoris was in searing pain.

They offered me a mirror so I could see what was happening which struck me as preposterous. They also asked if I wanted to reach down and feel her head, which I was also not interested in doing.

I'm pretty sure I felt her blink.

I horrendously abused my nurse and doctors, and they told me I was handling things great. And then at 4:20am on her exact due date she was born.

The first thing she did was give Doctor Preggo a dirty look. She was dark tan in color. She weighed 8 pounds 9 ounces. They asked my husband if he wanted to cut the cord, which he declined. The first thing I said to her was "thats ok, you can pee on me..." We noticed that an electrical storm had started.

I called my parents, and told them to wait until visiting hours.

I lost alot of blood. while My husband held Baby B, the nurse was using her hands to squeeze clumps out of my uterus from the outside. Once the epidural had worn off enough to walk, they removed my catheter and let me shower. My body temperature was low. as soon as I stepped out of the shower, I started shaking so hard I could hardly dress myself. I was pushed down to my room, and my husband and Baby B soon followed. As my nurse was heeling on me I can remember remarking that I really felt like I'd been kicked really hard between the legs.

The rest is foggy. I can remember my husband cradling her in his arms, looking tenderly into her eyes and saying "I'm gonna call you Hotdog..."

Day One:

One Month Birthday:

2 month birthday:

3 Month Birthday:

Her 4 month birthday is next Monday.

And I get to be her Mum

Baby attack

So... This happened today:


Video featuring my Daughter, to be known from here on out as Vanilla Gorilla, and my mother.