Baby Talk

I’m much happier now, thank you all.  Busy still.  Sheesh, someone decided that September 2008 would be like, the nightmare month of all time.  Maybe subconsciously I am struggling with turning 30?  (Consciously I’m truly not, truly truly.)  Or maybe I am struggling with work being a shizzstorm at the mo, plus the busy-ness of baby (that’s busy-ness, not business.  The business is the cause of the busy-ness, if you get what I’m sayin.  Dude.  Leave the daily writing gig for a couple of days and look what happens.  You lose your mind.)

 

So Saturday night I slept 8 hours straight for the first time since Jack was born (and even before, since who can sleep in late stage pregnancy?)  My poor baby-feeders were like hard rocks about to pop off my chest in the morning, but somehow my brain was able to tell them to pipe down and let me get my solid 8 before they tormented me awake.  So Sunday I felt like my mind had removed the sweater that has been muffling my thinking for the past four months.  I was like a whole different me.  It was so wild.  I even calculated a 15% tip in my head.  And I wish it had never happened because we’re back to bad-sleep-in-babyland, and now I remember what I’m missin’. 

 

The cat has never shown an interest in the baby.  Nothing.  Not so much as a sniff.  And then suddenly last night she was desperate to stand on him.  Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, she preferred it be done underneath her massive furry bulk.  She was very insistent on this.  Maybe now that they weigh roughly the same, she has decided he is big enough that she should start taking an interest in his activity.  God knows.  I may enlist her help in dealing with his latest escapade (he’s reached escapade age, I’m afraid.)  Which is biting mommy.  With teeth.  Previous to now, there was some biting happening, usually at the end of a nurse, and clearly because his gums hurt.  I have never been a fan, but I could handle it before.  Now he has sharp sharp sharp little baby teeth buds sticking out of that lower jaw, and all of a sudden we’re talking about something completely different here.  I’ve consulted my good buddy G00GLE to try to find out how to stop the biting-during-nursing, because Jack is going to starve soon if I can’t stop myself from pulling him away from me every 3 seconds because I am afraid of what those little jaws are up to.   Dr. G00GLE had some good ideas, but funnily enough no one has come up with the plan of having your overweight cat stand on your baby’s head every time he threatens to chomp.  I personally think it would be a good deterrent.

 

I am staring down a schedule for the next two months that makes me nervous for my sanity.  Between now and Thanksgiving, we have something going on every single weekend – from baby showers, to moving sisters into their new houses, to shows after shows after shows with the band (this is good – October is The Month of Puritan Rodeo, and I’m glad and also really buttering up the husband in preparation), to a 2 year anniversary camping trip, to a wedding, to a baby niece birth.  Before I know it, October 25 will roll around and Jack will be SIX FREAKING MONTHS OLD.  And I know every parent from the beginning of time, and every parent til the end of time, has said and will say the same exact thing about how quickly the time with your baby goes.  So I’m not being original in the slightest, and I realize this, but as he grows teeth and begins picking things up and looks at me when I talk to him, I constantly think of how just a few short months ago he was a little soft snail without a shell (only much less slimy.) (well, not MUCH less, but some less.)  And Sweet Juniper, is the time flying. 

 

I love it.  I still love it.  Every strained, stressed out, sleepy second of it.  Doldrums come and go, but for the most part I keep the wind in my sails. 

 

I added a new video below.  Tricking the baby hijinks.  Hilarity.  Desperation.  It’s got it all.