Keeps

More and more I look at Sebastien and at how far we've come from day one.  This boy, who once weighed only 8 pounds now weighs in at 17. A once scrawny floppy-necked little lump is now a babbling, chuckling, smiling little boy who whimpers when he bops his nose on his hand and wears number 3 diapers and is all full of personality and lard. He's  cute. And he lets me take him to the studio and on the airplane. And he lets me stay in bed most of the night...I think I'll keep him.

Music Motherhood Misc

This kid is going to have an interesting life.

Hard Knocks 101

First-time parenthood is not for sissies. Not for lazy romantics who romanticize laziness. It will kick you in the ass when you think you have no ass left to kick. Its main philosophy is that there is no better cure for whiplash than MORE WHIPLASH!!! Except you can't file an insurance claim against parenthood for rear-ending you, then get it to pay for your acupuncture treatments.

You start off fighting the way your life has completely changed. Praying certain things will go back to how they were before (i.e. lady parts). Then you accept it fully...You will be tired forever. Not cute for a while. Completely powerless at times. But full of this exquisite pain, and the kind of gratitude that can only occupy one who is presently standing in the former shoes of their mother, or father, or whoever...

HAPPY (early) MOTHER'S DAY ALL YOU MOTHERS OUT THERE.

Time In Flux

A week's worth of minutes blows right by. Yet I can't find the time to cut my nails.

4-22: Roaming Chinatown. Found Heaven. Contracted serious case of building envy. 

4-23: One Rufus Love Machine - saving my spot.

 

4-24: First day back in the studio. Oooo pretty buttons. How I've missed you.

4-25: Rufus - Babysitting

4-26: Swimming lesson.

4-27: To the sea!

4-28: Why I wake up when I really don't want to wake up.

4-29: Mine and mine all mine.

Goose53 Makes My Day

No sleep will come tonight. Sebastien - even though his eyes are closed - is not really sleeping. As in he's half awake because he's SICK. At least I think he is. Congestion, excess drool, grumps (also in excess), restlessness, sleeping with one eye open...it must be a cold. His poor little whines sound like rusty hinges. And since I couldn't get an appointment for him until tomorrow, the first thing I did (after frowning at the receptionist through the phone line) was go online to search for something...anything that might be of help to him if his stuffiness got any worse. Because if I know anything, it's this:

No. 1: Breathing is essential to continuation of life. I know this one first hand.

No. 2: For how minor an ailment stuffy noses are, they irritate the living crap out of me. At least I can complain and then feel a little better. All he can do is cry, which makes stuffy noses even stuffier (I also have first-hand experience with this one).

Most forums I found on the subject suggested steaming the snot out of him (like a sauna for his nostrils), as well as employing the ever-popular bulb aspirator and saline solution trick (a.k.a. nose douche). Decided to hold off on that last one...

Then I found this forum, which reminds why I love the internet so much. And here's why: 'MarionR' had a 6-week old with congestion that could not be cleared up by any of the standard remedies. Her doctor (whom they'd visited twice) sent them home with no prognosis/remedy, other than 'it's just a stuffy nose...deal with it'. The posts that followed were mostly encouraging MarionR to see another doctor, get another opinion, and stress the importance of her daughter's need to breathe to her care-giver. Well, she did just that, and it turns out the baby was re-tested, then diagnosed with acid reflux. The mother was relieved that she could finally help her baby get better. Yay for happy endings...

The posts then congratulated MarionR for going with her instinct and getting the 2nd opinion. And then 'organic_fernando' enters the fray. Stage left. And I quote: "most patients don't realize that most of the time, the problems in diagnoses stem from an inability of the patient to understand the problems at hand, or communicate them in a non-hysterical, quasi-scientific manner...as the non-medical son and husband of doctors, I can tell you firsthand that overwhelmingly, the problems with most misdiagnoses have more to do with the patients than the doctor'. 

First of all...WHAT!? Could this be true? Yes we see doctors because we are having trouble understanding the problem. But it's MY fault if they don't understand it too?! And isn't the patient a NEWBORN?! AND, if your wife is a doctor, WHY ARE YOU LURKING ON THIS FORUM?!

'coleenoz' retorts in favor of 2nd opinions: 'Ladies, trust your instincts'.

'organic_fernano': 'Parenting is nervewracking, and makes you feel sometimes like you're just sitting there watching someone asphyxiate. But you're not (mostly). And thank God we don't just "trust our instincts". If we did, we'd still be burning women at stakes for "witchery" and bleeding people when they sneezed too loud at parties.' 

Okay...even though my nerves have been thoroughly wracked by parenthood, I doubt I'd find myself just 'sitting there' while my baby chokes. Which is a sure sign that my instincts are to be trusted.

And then out of the blue, 'goose53' diffuses the whole situation: 'did you two notice this post is over SIX years old? get a life!'

Ha! I always knew I liked poultry.

The Pants - Circa 2008

A couple years ago, some guy asked me how I got these pants up past my ankles. Instead of kicking him in the breakfast I paused and realized 2 things: He has a point because these pants are tight and severely tapered at the ankle...and if I did in fact kick him in the breakfast the pants might rip at the crotch, giving the guy reason enough to say: Dude she totally fondled me AND let me see her underwear.

Skills?

My shoulder smells like cheese. Don't think anyone could appreciate this more that my good friend Johnny Helm. Several times a day I find myself wondering....how can I get this shirt off without smearing Sebastien's barf all down my arm and across my cheek? I've actually gotten pretty good at avoiding altercations with his splooge. One of the things I've mastered since becoming a Mama. That and dodging the golden shower.