American Girl

She waits another week to fall apart...

If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. ~ Thomas Paine

Happy New Year, Motime friends!

 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 10:54 | link | comments (20) |

For some reason, some person has been sitting on my blog and reading it from start to finish.  It started the other night, around 1:00 AM.  But why?  And don't you think you should buy me a drink or something?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 14:25 | link | comments (7) |

It would be good to lighten things up around here.  So, presenting: 

Random Funny Stories

 

Nephew:  Why was Baby Jesus born in all that hay?

 

Me:  Well, Joseph and Mary travelled a long way, and her baby was ready to be born, but when they got to the inn, there was no room for them, so the inn keeper said they could stay in the barn, and that's where Mary had her baby.

 

Nephew:  Yeah, but didn't it stink?

 

Me: Um, maybe it did.  The bible doesn't really say

 

Nephew:  Good thing the Bible isn't one of those scratch and sniff kind of books, huh?

 

 

The following was recorded on our answering machine:

 

Brother:  (Top of his lungs) I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas...I wanna wish you a Merry Chri- PUT DOWN THE (blanking) PHONE AND DRIVE, YOU (blankety-blank-blank-blanking-blank....    BLANK!!) ....From the bottom of my heeaaaaaart....Feliz Navidad...  Feliz Navidad....

 

Side note:  Apparently, he didn't realize that he had accidently hit "redial" on his cell phone and called my house

 

 

Nephew, while looking at old pictures:  Hey, where was I?

 

Me:  You weren't born yet when that picture was taken

 

Nephew:    Well, where was I?

 

Me:  You weren't here.  You weren't alive yet.

 

Nephew, with wide eyes:  I was...dead?

 

Me:  Um, no.  No!  You weren't dead.

 

Nephew:  Then where was I?

 

Me:  You were...in heaven, waiting to be born

 

Nephew, with wide eyes again:  With all those dead people?

 

Me:  I'll give you $5 if you go get me a donut from the kitchen table

 

Nephew:  COOL!

 

Ok, now you tell one.  And I'll show you how that my baby can smile!  She really can, it's not just gas!

posted by: AmericanGirl at 12:30 | link | comments (6) |

One year ago today, we drove into a rainforest and checked into this adorable little cottage.  It wasn't the lap of luxury, but it was cute and quiet and secluded and way more romantic than a hotel room.   It had a bed which was rather squeaky, and a small kitchen.

Just now looking at these pictures I thought "Hey, there was a TV!"  We didn't notice it at the time.  We had no idea that there had been a massive tsunami.  We had no idea of anything that was happening outside of those four walls, except for the covered patio out back, which had a hot tub, surrounded by what can best be described as jungle.

There was a thunderstorm that night, and we sat out there and talked and drank more bottles of wine than would be polite to admit to, and we planned our future, so to speak.  When we were getting ready to check out the next day, I picked up a little notebook that rested on the table which was signed by former guests.  I wrote our names and the date, and added "We're going to have a baby!"   I wasn't pregnant, but that night when he said "You would be an excellent mother."  I said "Yeah, I know."  I did know.  And so it began.

 

You're probably not going to like me much after this next part, but so be it.  It needs to be said.  I think we as a society are doing a great disservice to women everywhere when we insist that the days and weeks and maybe months after you have a baby are this lovely blissful time where you are on top of the world and nothing else matters but you and your precious newborn.  And of course I need to add, in case it's not a given, that Hope IS precious and wonderful and we are so blessed to have her.  It's not about her. 

 

It's about the fact that a little honesty would have gone a long way here.  I thought I was prepared for this.  It's not like I'm a young mother who never had a chance to live her own life.  It's not like I don't have more family support than anyone could ever want or need.  It's not that we don't have a wonderful marriage and partnership, or that we're not financially stable or able to easily provide a comfortable home.  It's not that I'm not completely healthy and able to have a reasonably non-complicated pregnancy.  These are real obstacles that people overcome all the time, right?  On paper, we can agree that I am the ideal candidate to effortlessly bring life into the world, yes?

 

Had someone told me how difficult and hopeless feeling it was to suddenly have your world as you know it turned upside down, it might not have been as shocking.  Had one person sat me down and said "Look, you're going to be exhausted, and your mood will be unstable, at best.  You'll cry while reading the gossip section of the newspaper.  You'll cry when you run out of Diet Coke.  Without fail, you'll cry when your baby cries.  No matter how many times you take a shower (when you have the time and energy to take a shower) you'll never feel clean, because bad stuff will be leaking out of every opening in your body.  (Even openings that you didn't even know you had before.)  Your once-flat stomach will look like a deflated basketball.  Any other time you have the unfortunate circumstance of recovering from major abdominal surgery, people would be falling all over themselves to cater to you and insist that you rest, but this time will be different.  This time you'll never sleep for more than two hours at a time, and you'll be forced to entertain a non-stop stream of company who all come and ask you if the baby is letting you get any rest.  In the middle of the night you'll suddenly realize that you're soaking wet, and it will take a good amount of time to figure out whether it's the leakage of breast milk or another one of those insane hot flashes.  Even when the baby is sleeping, you'll be wide awake listening for her breathing.  Once you feel assured that she is breathing you'll be so afraid that she'll wake up the moment you close your eyes that you'll just decide it's easier to stay awake and wait.  You won't even think about food until you start thinking back to the last thing you ate, which was a day and a half ago.  Your baby will cry for no known reason and it will make every cell in your body ache because you can't comfort her.  You will have a sudden surge of guilt hormone, which will prevent you from being apart from your baby even for a short time, and even when she's in hands that are more capable than your own.  The thought of her crying and you not being there to comfort her will make you physically sick.  Oh, and you'll have wild nightmares, while you're wide awake, that involve horrible things happening to your poor little baby, and they'll make you doubt your decision to bring an innocent life into a world filled with pedophiles and terrorists and mean kids and sloppy drivers.  Then that guilt hormone will kick in again and make you feel ashamed for thinking it, however fleeting.  And then, and THEN! you'll finally break down and tell someone how you're feeling like your world is crumbling in, and they'll nod and say "Yeah, that's how it is in the beginning" and you'll want to scream at them for not warning you, and for sitting there and saying "This is the greatest time of your life, Oh!  How I miss the infant stage!" right out of the other side of their mouth, and you'll want to smack that wistful expression right off their smarmy little face."

 

Yeah, if someone had actually said all that, instead of insisting that I would be all warm and glowy inside, sitting there rocking my baby and humming a happy tune, I might be ok today.  But instead, we insist that new mothers are going to be thrilled, and when they're anything less than that, they feel hideous and squash it down, because they're sure there must be something wrong with them for feeling the way that they do.  It's a vicious cycle.  That's a horrible thing to do to someone!  Seriously, if a soldier were going off to war, would you tell them that they'll spend their days flying kites and playing hopscotch?  Of course not!

 

And I'm really not an idiot.  Of course I knew having a baby was going to change everything.  But I also knew that people do it every day, and go on to have more babies, even.  And they adjust and they raise decent human beings and live to talk about it.  I looked at the world and I really had no idea what it was really, really like.

 

The buck stops here.  I'm not going to pretend it's all sunshine and butterflies, because it's not.  That's not to say it isn't worth it, and that I'm not appreciative of my daughter.  It's just honest.  Maybe it means I should just shut up until I'm feeling better, because I know that at some point I will be.  But until I get the hang of this, just don't expect me to ooze sunshine.  And if you should happen to have a child, just remember that if someone tells you that it's the happiest they've ever been, they're totally full of it.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 12:49 | link | comments (27) |

If you pray, please say a prayer for FF Matt Long, who was hit by a bus while riding his bicycle to work yesterday morning during the transit strike.  You may not know him, but if you've seen this widely circulated picture before, you've seen him:

 

Matt is still in critical condition and can use all the positive thoughts you can send. 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 11:08 | link | comments (12) |

I think that over the course of the past three weeks I've developed a case of G.A.D. (General Anxiety Disorder)  Actually, maybe I have E-Gad.  Extreme General Anxiety Disorder.  Extremely General.  So maybe it's an oxymoron. 

 

Last night Ryan decided that he needed to take Hope out to pick out a Christmas gift for me.  Well, I suggested that they don't purchase a thing, because an hour to myself IS a gift.  Especially an hour that coincides with the witching hour.  Wohoo!  I was free! 

 

Yeah, right.  After 30 minutes I was uncomfortabe.  At 40 minutes I was calling his cell, telling him to bring my baby back home, immediately.  I couldn't stand it anymore!  So much for free time, right?

 

Now people are trying to peer pressure me into babysitting services.  And it's all very nice, really, but isn't it too soon?  Doesn't my baby need to know her mom is going to be there each and every time she cries?  She does take a bottle, and I've been able to stock up plenty of reserves, but still...I have this image in my mind of the image in HER mind that she's crying and mommy is gone and never, ever coming back - because surely the concept of time is lost on a newborn, right?  

 

Tomorrow I'm getting my hair cut and highlighted, and leaving Hope with her very capable father, and I'm even squeamish about that.  I tried to convince them to come along, but he said no way.  And I do see his point, it makes no sense to have them sit there and wait, when it's freezing out there and there's a transit strike and all of the comforts of home are right here,  but...Ugh.  See what I mean?  E-GAD.  This can't be healthy.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 14:29 | link | comments (10) |

It's hard to believe that they could be the same child...

Isn't it?

 

posted by: AmericanGirl at 19:42 | link | comments (9) |

Not a creature was stirring...'cept me.

 

The other day Ryan and I were discussing the fact that  my hair needs about nine months worth of highlighting.  Truth be told, I was discussing it, and he was politely listening and offering solutions, like the man that he is.   Of course, it's not so easy to just run out and get my hair done these days.  Not with this extreme lack of energy and/or motivation holding me down, and certainly not with Hope attached...well, it's not easy.

 

"So why don't you do it yourself?  You're good at that." he said.  And he said so with complete sarcasm.  So much so that I had to question it, because I don't mess with my hair color on my own.  Haven't for years and years, and certainly not since he's been around.  So I said so, and he disagreed and said that there was that one time...

 

Only he couldn't have known, because "that one time" (when I turned my hair, or half of my hair anyway, a rather unpleasant shade of orangey-gold) was before we had met, so he couldn't have known the less-than-adorable results.  And then he said it wasn't before we met and he actually remembered it quite well, and now we were both bent on being right.  Hey, we don't get out much these days, and the little things like this suddenly become very important.  Nevermind that sleep deprivation was clouding the fact that he obviously knew about "that one time", so he was probably right, right?

 

So I launched into this whole "A girl remembers the first time she meets her future husband..." routine, and he got up to take a shower and said "Ok, whatever, Sister Golden Hair Surprise."

 

Woosh!  Tidal Wave.  Just like that, it comes back.  My brother's obnoxious, yet appropriate and very humorous nickname for me that summer, after that unfortunate incident with an "easy" "do it yourself" highlighting kit.

 

I thought I was doing ok.  More than that, I thought I had gotten through this whole "I brought a new life into the world and you weren't here to see it or meet her or anything" thing quite well.  Amazingly well, if I do say so myself.  Were you not totally impressed?  I didn't even let out one little whimper!  I want to say that this time, I was able to remember the moment fondly, and laugh at the good times and the silliness, and appreciate them and feel all happy and warm about the fact that we were so lucky to have been blessed with him for as long as we were, just like everyone says will happen some day.  I want to say all that, but I'd be lying.

 

I wonder if it would pass faster if I didn't take the time to write it down.  I mean, why do I always turn this blog into that? 

 

Because I don't think I want it to pass, that's why.

 

And for the love of Pete, in the future if you see me here and it's approaching midnight, please send me off to bed!

posted by: AmericanGirl at 23:54 | link | comments (12) |

1:00 AM and she JUST stopped crying and is finally asleep.

I'm going to die.

Seriously.

At least she's cute.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 00:58 | link | comments (10) |

We're in for it.  We're in for it because Hope woke up from a nice long nap a couple of hours ago, ate, and went right back to sleep.  Nothing we did could keep her awake, and really, we tried.  And now we're in for it because it's almost the witching hour(s).  For unknown reasons, my poor baby cries every night from 7:00 until 10:00, then she goes to sleep, usually for a nice long 5 hour stretch.  We've tried everything.  (Please don't take this to mean that we're not open to suggestions.  We are.  We ARE!)  She's fed, she's burped, she's clean, she's not especially gassy, not too hot, not too cold, nothing is poking her...nothing like that.  I think we need to come to terms with the fact that our child is just miserable -  For three hours every evening.  (The rest of the time she's a perfect angel.)  Tonight we're prepared.  My sister in law suggested music.  I've got U2, Counting Crows,  Reggae (for kids), Bach, ...heck, I might even be willing to try (gasp!) COUNTRY music if it would make her happy.  Maybe she likes Blink 182.  I'm not entirely opposed to that.  Last night we put her in her swing thinking it would save us.  It didn't.  So we looked at our screaming child and Ryan said "At least she's cute".  This has become our mantra.  Thank goodness for small favors.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 18:46 | link | comments (10) |

Is it ever to early to have your name in lights?

 

Christmas lights?  How cool is THAT? 

 

I feel I should update, but there isn't much to say.  I haven't left my house since Saturday.  I think.  (What day IS it, anyway?)  Hope's bilirubin is down to a safe level, but she still looks awfully yellow to me.  She looks even more yellow when she wears yellow.  And when you don't know if your baby is going to be a girl or a boy, you get showered with an awful lot of yellow clothing.  And green.  Of course, when your baby is the child of a firefighter, you get a lot of firefighter clothing too.  Much of it even outranks Dear Old Dad.  Little baby "Chief" overalls are very cute, but I can't seem to put them on her without feeling like I'm pushing a career on her.  And besides, they're not very girly.  No pink lacey FDNY shirts around here.  Maybe I should go into business?  With all my free time. 

 

I'm pleased to announce that I have brushed my teeth every day.  Twice.  I continue to floss.  I have discontinued making my bed, because you just never know when one of us is going to suddenly desperately need it.   My stitches are out, and I can take the steps two at a time to rescue a screaming baby who's just MAD because she woke up.  Or something.  We haven't quite figured out all the reasons why she cries, but she does.  Yeah. 

 

Although I'm not currently working, none of the vendors have taken me off their mailing list and Christmas goodies continue to pour in.  As a result, last night we had brownies and milk for dinner.  Delicious.  Work feels like a very distant memory.  As in, I can't believe it was ever important.  Ryan disagrees and feels that everything exciting is happening now that he's on leave.  On his job, not mine.  If anything exciting has happened in my office, I've yet to hear of it.

 

Exciting is not always good.  I'm kind of enjoying these mellow days.  When they're mellow.  Which is about half of the time.  If I'm honest, I'm kind of struggling with this drastic role reversal that's going on.  Last weekend my sister in law took the kids to a studio for Christmas portraits.  It's something I always do with her, because it's a nightmare, every time.  But this time I didn't even know she was going.  And it's not like I would have been very helpful at all, but still.  Hard to explain.  I've gone from the person that everyone calls when they're in a pinch.  "I need a babysitter, I locked my keys in my car, one kid has a dance lesson and another has a music class and I can't be at both at the same time"...you know.  I'm always called on for stuff like that, and now instead, people are calling me from the store and asking if I need anything.  And when they come to visit, they clean up after themselves and load the dishwasher and ask if I have any laundry that needs doing.  This isn't so much a complaint, I mean - I'd be crazy to complain about it, right?  It's just weird.  It's like I went into the hospital one person, and came out a completely different person, with a completely different family.  Does it ever go back?

posted by: AmericanGirl at 13:11 | link | comments (21) |

Oh ok, if you insist...

 

 

The nice thing about c-sections is that your baby comes out with a nice round head.  You should have seen all those cone heads in the nursery.  It was enough to have me pointing at each baby in there and saying "Let's see...mine's cuter...mine's cuter....mine's cuter..."  Because of course, she is.  (Who's the one with the big round head?)

 

By the way, that's the ONLY nice thing about a c-section.  That's a story for another time.

 

Things are not going as smoothly as we had hoped, because Hope has jaundice as a result of a blood incompatibility with me.  Her biliruben count keeps going up and up, and if it gets to 20, she has to go back to the hospital for light treatment, which will absolutely destroy what's left of my currently very delicate psyche.  Right now it's 17.8.  We have to take her for a blood test every morning, which is just torture all around.  Like it's not hard enough to stabilize your emotions enough to realize that the jab is going to hurt you more than it hurts her, they make you hold her down while they do it!  How mean is THAT? 

 

So, so far poor little Hope thinks that every day on this earth begins with a poke in the foot and the sacrificial squeezing out of the blood.  While her poor father holds her down. 

 

Have I mentioned that my emotions are a wee bit....unstable?

 

In happier news, Hope has also braved her first snowstorm as of last night, and her first pre-school rendition of "Joy to the World", where my nephew belted out "Go Tell It On the Mountain" and "Three Wise Men" at the top of his lungs, and finally forgave me for having a girl baby.  I swear we're not horrible parents.  I wore her in a sling and she slept through the entire thing.  No one even knew she was there.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 09:38 | link | comments (21) |

Hi everyone - we're home! 

 

I don't have the time to catch up properly at the moment, but thank you all for the well wishes!  She is pretty cute, isn't she?  I wish you could feel how silky her hair is, and how her little body just molds into your arms as if there are no bones in there.  I wish you could see her teeny-tiny but perfect fingernails!

 

We have almost two hours alone before the stream of company continues so I need to take advantage of that, but I'll be back soon.  Thank you again!  Your comments made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and it's not just the drugs. xoxox

posted by: AmericanGirl at 10:40 | link | comments (16) |

So sweet!

I dont think AG will mind if we aaawwwww over just one more picture until she comes home.

posted by: rustymadgal at 06:21 | link | comments (13) |

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