The Window Complication

We have officially moved in with my mother. And the dog.

It's a split level with four tiny bedrooms and two point five baths. The bedrooms are tiny because Anna fits in one and my husband and I have to split our basic bedroom gear between two more of them to function.

It's an older house. Needs a little work. All the doors creak. When the toilet flushes it sounds like Chewbacca. Glasses don't stand upright in the kitchen sink because it bows in the middle. Garage doors open and close at their leisure.

But the windows are pretty new. And the slider onto the deck.

There is no Central Air, but two bedrooms and the kitchen have A/C units in them, so we stay pretty cool. The baby's room has no A/C, but it has a fan and it hasn't been unbearable at night.

If fact, it gets into the 50s.

My mom tends to leave the windows and slider open during the day to keep the dog cool. 

And apparently leaves them open all night.

This is the third time I have woken up at fourish to pump and it has been freezing in the house. Not noticable to me because i shut my door. But noticable to Anna, who has been sleeping through the night and who's door can't close all the way.

And thus gets up at 3:30 to interrupt my only long stretch of sleep I get a night.

Did I say long?

I meant medium.

The Exhaustion Explanation

I feel so disgusting. 

I have had less than five hours of sleep,

I worked a ten hour day.

I have been stuck in three hours of traffic.

I have barely seen my child.

I have moved us out of our house and in with my mother.

And now i sit in an old bedroom that smells like dog pee pumping is semi darkness feeling sticky.

The Black Market Proposal

We are almost six months into this adventure, and I am still making breast milk like my life depended on it.

I've heard that in China apparently making breast milk is more of a problem. So much that they actually sell breast milk--sometimes on the black market! 

I could make a killing, if only I lived in China.

Although apparently they also sell BABIES on the black market there as well.

Some parents didn't even see their newborn twins because their doctor SOLD THEM. 

Now thank goodness, they were returned to their parents, but seriously....

WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE? 

This is the type of stuff that scares me about the world. I make jokes and try to take things lightly, but stuff like this makes me want to go all Incredible Mother Hulk on these people and HULK SMASH them into bits of dust. 

The Worst Mom Ever Feeling

When you nick your baby's finger while clipping her nails.

Talk about feeling like an epic failure at LIFE. 

HULK SAD.

The Coolatta Complication

So lately I haven't been getting much sleep.

You might have heard - I have a newborn.

She sleeps through the night now (read: YAY CEREAL!), but unfortunately, my boobs and I are still getting up at least every 6 hours to pump.

That's right.

We're five months into this thing and I'm still pumping.

Plus, for some reason, the baby monitor has found a permanent home on MY nightstand. (Mental note: Disable monitor or unplug and stick under husband's pillow.) So I get up with her if she gets up hurls herself into the side of the crib gets her leg stuck in the crib slats.

So, less than 5 hours a night.

I live for Thursdays and weekends.

And caffeine.

Now while my brain realizes there is no caffeine in Coolattas, my body doesn't (ssshhhhhh).

So now and again, during the week, I treat myself to one to wake me up. Or so I don't crash and burn on the highway.

Anyhoo, part of my work entails learning to live a cleaner, more eco-friendly lifestyle. Which includes one of these babies:

Which they so kindly filled on Monday.

But not on Wednesday. Because he would have to use a plastic cup to make it, then pour it in.

OK.

FIRST - why the hell are you still using styrofoam? They make compostable coffee cups, and styrofoam sucks! If you don't know why - LEARN WHY.

Second, what the FRELL is the point of having a reusable travel container if you are going to make my drink in a separate cup, pour it into my cup, and then throw out the other cup?!?

Is it an issue of sanitation? You can't use your stirrer thing in my cup because of germs? OK, I get it. BUT YOU STERILIZE THE THING EVERY TIME YOU USE IT.

So I harumph on that argument.

You can't possibly be saving money this way. But you are pissing off customers who have these containers for a reason. As the saying goes: "How can it be deemed less effort to drill for oil, ship it to a factory, turn it into a plastic spoon, package it, ship it to the store, buy it, bring it home, use it, and then throw it away, then it is to just WASH THE DAMN SPOON WHEN YOU ARE DONE WITH IT?"

Ok, I might have edited that a bit.

The Hulk Duality

I think when you become a mother you develop a split personality. Maybe even multiple personalities.

There's the sweet, loving, doting person you become around your child. You love your child, and every time they smile at you, it's like a ray of sunshine.

And then you start watching the news. Or you let your obnoxious relative hold your child (reluctantly). Your brain begins to churn over thoughts of "what if?". What if she gets hurt? What if someone hurts her? What if someone tries to take her? What if I was the mother of that child that was hurt by their relative or a complete stranger? What if what if what if what if...? It could go on forever.

The absolute terror that comes with having a child spawns this alternate personality. The Incredible Mother Hulk. The uncontrollable anger and rage that comes at the thought of someone injuring your child. And the insane thoughts of what you would do to that person. At any given moment, you could turn into a giant, angry, screaming being that will just SMASH anyone that gets in your way (you may also unnecessarily turn green).

THAT is the crazy split personality I am talking about.

While I am sure there are other personalities to come, this is the one brought to mind at the moment.

Not because someone hurt Anna. But because someone else I know passed away. Someone young. Ambitious. Caring. Kind. And she didn't have to. We received a letter about how important our institution was to this young woman. How the family plans to remember her.

And I can't imagine what I would do in their shoes.

Except become the Incredible Mother Hulk.

The Dumping Anomaly

So I went into Anna's room the other morning and saw this:

That's right. Those white things are diapers. And that tall white cylinder? We call that a diaper pail. The blue bag? An old diaper pail bag. 

I asked my husband about it. He said, and I quote:

"I can't reach I after I change her diaper so I just toss them there."

What?

Let me introduce you to our little friend, the changing pad strap, which allows you 1 foot of clearance to reach said diaper pail. Also, meet his best friend, the attached crib, also known as BABY JAIL. You put the baby in, do whatever you need to do, and then take them out after they've served their time. Which includes a mandatory potty training until which time they get to WATCH THEIR FATHER PUT DIRTY DIAPERS IN THE DIAPER PAIL.

Oy.