Perfect.

Sometimes I just look at my kid and he breaks my heart. He's sitting on my lap right now, fighting sleep, and he's making the most hilarious/adorable faces.

And then I think: I made that!

And then I want to kick my own ass for being so self-centered.





Oh, God. He just laughed in his sleep. I think I may pass out.

Four weeks old!

PSA

You cannot watch Jim Gaffigan and breastfeed at the same time.

Mooooo

When I was pregnant I didn't think I could feel more like a cow. I was wrong. Know why? Because when I was still pregnant I wasn't being milked like a cow.

Now, of course, I am.

I don't begrudge my child his need to eat. That's fine with me. I'm happy to help. But the truth is, my boobs have taken on a life of their own. Since I started pumping it's been even crazier - I'm producing double what I was before. This is both good and bad. Good because I'm creating a stockpile of milk so the Android can take the wheel (or nipple, as it were) on occasion. Bad because if I miss a feeding by more than a minute, I spring a leak. I don't like being soggy.

Wanna know what an engorged breast feels like? Okay. Take a balloon. Fill it halfway with pebbles - all about the size of a half dollar. Then, fill the balloon with warm tapioca pudding until it's about to burst. You think I'm kidding? Try it. I dare ya.

I'll admit pumping is now a bit of a game for me. I like to guess how much I can get in one session (Most - 4oz. Least, 1/4 oz). Shut up. I'm weird.

Braggin' on my husband.

I meant to write and Ode to the Android on my pregnancy blog, especially after I had given birth. Now I have more ammunition for a LUV-post because this man is like, the best father ever.

When I was pregnant he rubbed my feet, and he got me glasses of water when I couldn't roll my perfectly spherical self out of bed, he let me whine about pretty much everything, he took the childbirth classes very seriously, and used that information in labor and delivery!

I never had the movie/sitcom childbirth moment where I screamed at him "You bastard! You did this to me!". I never had to. He was lovely and supportive during the whole ridiculous process. However, at the end (when the epidural wore off for the third time) he started to panic. His three phrases "You're doing great! Breathe, honey! You can do this!" were coming as hard and as fast as my contractions. I finally looked at him and said "You have GOT to calm down! You are freaking me out!"

Poor guy. I've never seen him that panicked in my life. To his credit, he pulled it together.

When our baby made his appearance we were both overwhelmed. This tiny person caused me s much pain, and I wasn't mad at it in the slightest! Normally I'm one to hold a grudge, but not this time. The Android was obviously smitten at first sight, and so far this has continued on.

He learned to change a diaper in the hospital, and he was the only one who did it for the first three days. He figured I get to feed him, so he may as well bond with Baby over the Diaper Champ. That was a sweet setup for me since I couldn't really move much without bleeding everywhere.

Now that he's back at work, he doesn't get as much time with the Czar as he would like. He makes up for it by coming home and immediately cuddling the guts out of our boy. And the Czar loves him. He's fascinated by the blonde guy with the hairy face who talks to him and makes faces and is generally goofy at him.

So, my husband, I salute you.

One less thing to worry about.

When the Czar was 24 hours old the hospital gave him a hearing test. His right ear failed not once, but twice. This is relatively common as newborns have spent the last nine months floating around in amniotic fluid, and some of it is bound to be wedged in small spaces like ear canals.

They gave us the number for an audiologist and we made an appointment for today. He passed with flying colors, thank goodness.

I kinda figured his hearing was fine because the other day I was nursing him on the couch in the living room (way at the front of the apartment), and the Android came home from work through the back door (all the way at the back of the apartment) - he called out "I'm home!" and the Czar whipped his head around (nearly taking my nipple with him - luckily he let go) and looked around for Daddy.

He is a daddy's boy. I am merely a food source.

Reasons I'm Loving Not Being Pregnant

10. I can sleep on my belly.
9. I have to pee about one tenth of the time that I used to.
8. I can take a HOT bath without boiling my kid's brain.
7. My wedding rings fit again!
6. No more tent-like maternity tops!
5. I can shave my legs without having a giant belly get in the way. ('Course, I haven't had time to shave my legs, but the point is I could.)
4. No one touches my stomach without permission.
3. My feet are no longer bloated beyond all recognition.
2. Hey! I can see my feet!

And the number one reason I am LOVING not being pregnant:
I haven't had heartburn in three weeks.





It's the little things.

I fell in love with a boy.

Seventeen days ago I had a son. "Had" is a gentle term for what I actually went through.

No matter. He's perfect and gorgeous and smells GREAT.

This will be my forum for talking about being a new mom and just generally bragging about my kid. I will try not to make you want to puke.

Just a short note today - it is 9:12pm and I am about to pass out from sheer exhaustion. Good times.