Saturday, January 9, 2010

Confession...

When people without children tell me how exhausted they are from work or partying all weekend, I want to throat punch them.
Mean? Yes. Insensitive? Yes.
True? Absofuckenlutely.

Baby Free Time

I realized last night that I have TWO weekends away planned in the near future that do NOT include the caveman. Is it bad that I am practically giddy with excitement over this? Even if it's bad, I am.

In less than an hour, my hubs and I are taking a much needed weekend away in order to reconnect and, hopefully, have lots of sex. As I am typing this, the caveman is whining and pulling on the leg of my jeans. All I can think is that I CANNOT wait until my parents arrive to take him away. Don't get me wrong, by Monday I will be dying to see him. It's just that today I am ready for a break.

I am sure that the same will be true in a little over a month when I leave him again for a quick trip to the frozen tundra (otherwise known as Milwaukee). That will be a mostly girls' only weekend - also much needed. Will I be pining for the caveman (or the hubs) much as I drink micro brews and eat cheese? Probably not. At least not until I get back on the plane Sunday afternoon.

It's funny. My sister always brags about how her son is almost 2 and a half and she's never left him more than overnight. I'm not sure that's a good thing. In some ways, I think my time away from the caveman makes me love and appreciate him that much more. Or that's what I'm going to tell people who judge me for leaving my son now and then anyway.

Monday, December 28, 2009

I will introduce myself with this:

Hi, my name is Mo.  I'm 5 months pregnant, and in the process of buying a house with my husband.

I don't need the two goddamned cents of every single person that I come in contact with between the hours of 8 and 4:30 pm about either fucking topic.

Happy Monday.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Gifts

Gifts for a baby- sounds so easy. They don't make a huge list for Santa, they don't sit glued to the TV watching for commercials about new toys and yell, "I need that!", they don't throw fits when you wheel down the toy aisle of Wal-Mart or Target because they're going to DIE, DIE I TELL YOU! if they don't get Barbie Princess Fairy of Whompaland Collector's Edition with extra wings. So, it should be easy.

Should be.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Being the Mommy of a Boy

I always wanted to have a girl. I have a sister and lots of girl cousins and really don’t know the first thing about little boys. I shed a tear when the ultrasound tech told Mr. Plummy and I we were having a boy. Not because I was disappointed, but because I literally didn’t know what I was supposed to do with a boy. It took me about 10 seconds to come to terms with the idea of having a boy and now….well now I wouldn’t trade my Monkey for 100 girls.

But being the mommy of a boy has some particular challenges. For example, last week I noticed that Monkeys’ junk looked a little red. Further examination revealed it was really red. I called the pediatricians’ office to get some advice on how to treat it. The conversation went something like this:

Me: My son’s penis looks a little red.

Nurse: Is it on the shaft of the penis?

Me: Yes

Nurse: Or is it at the base when you pull back the foreskin?

Me: Ummm….Yes?

Nurse: Well, it is more at the base near the testicles or near the tip?

Me: Ummmm….Ummmm…Ummmm

Clearly, I am going to need a refresh course on male anatomy before we get much further into Monkey’s childhood. For the record, it turned out to be a simple diaper rash that was cleared up with a little Desitin and a pep talk with myself about the importance of not ignoring Monkey’s little boy bits.

Bi-Polar Baby

I just love those times when Munchky looks up at me, and I smile, and she smiles back. Or when I smile at her and talk to her, and she laughs. These are the moments that make my day.

However, lately, she's been a bit of a bi-polar baby. She'll be laying on the couch beside me, playing with her toy, chatting away. All of a sudden she will whine and start to cry (no tears, mind you), and I'll look at her. Here's the rub- she's looking at me, and as soon as I look at her, she laughs. Ummmm, yes Munchky, I'm still here and paying attention to you.

It always reminds me of that video on youtube, called "Toddler Throwing A Funny Tantrum".

Friday, November 20, 2009

Getting sick

Getting sick sucks at any point. But I'm learning that it sucks even more when you have a baby. The only sure-fire thing that works all the time for me when I'm sick... is sleeping. A lot. I mean, a LOT. Yeah, not really possible with a 5 month old.

My hubs is pretty good at taking care of Munchky when I want to go out and play poker on Tuesdays, or go out for a girls night. But if I'm at home, sick or not, he just expects that I'll be helping and feeding and changing. UGGGGGHHHHHHH! It just sucks. Do I want to help? Yes. Do I want to hold my little girl since she spends all day at daycare? Yes. But what I need right now is sleeeeeeeep!