There's a Child Out Here, People. That's the Reality.

Join me on my journey through parenthood. BYOHelmet.

Andrew’s Check-Up March 31, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — aggieonboard @ 11:25 am

We had his two month check up yesterday and he weighs in at 13 lb 12 0z.  He’s in the 95th percentile for length, which is pretty remarkable considering he’s got stubby little legs like his mommy and daddy. He was a little fussy during the visit and we knew it was only going to get worse when they gave him the dreaded shots. I was nervous about it all day long, but it actually ended up not being that bad. He screamed like a crazy person for a couple of minutes, but by the time we got him back in the carseat he was calm. He was just looking at us like “What the heck just happened to me?!”

I was worried he’d be a fussypants all night, but we kept him on a strict schedule of baby tylenol and he slept like a champ. We had Nibbles wear him in the Moby wrap (I should’ve taken a picture) and I went to take a bubble bath before retiring to bed at 9:00. I only woke up for one of his feedings and slept through a thunderstorm. Actually, he and I both slept through it, and he only woke up for one more feeding than I did. It was blissful.

Tomorrow: daycare.


Why my birthday sucked

Filed under: Uncategorized — aggieonboard @ 10:03 am

Disclaimer: I am going to come off as a spoiled brat here, and I am.

In order to appreciate the magnitude of FAIL associated with my birthday celebration it is necessary to appreciate the level of expectation associated with it. At that time I was still under house arrest and the hours ticked by ever so slowly. Even though I absolutely cherished special moments with Stinks, every day felt like a week. Sure, I’d lose entire weeks in the sense that I didn’t know what month it was, but every moment stretched on. It was disconcerting to say the least. Thus, I had plenty of time to fantasize about what my special day would bring; I knew at least it would bring some time out of the house because Mr. Aggie’s parents were coming to babysit.

So the day finally arrives. Mr. Aggie has made plans for us to go out for a nice dinner, necessitating a shopping trip on my part. I am able to find a nice outfit after much searching so at least I’ve got that going for me.

After I got back (sidenote: sorry for the shift in tenses but present-tense storytelling annoys me)  the Mr. had to go out for a little while to get me a card. It kind of takes the fun out of a card somehow when the person has to leave at the last minute to pick one out but it’s not really his fault. He knew that he was not allowed to deviate from his commute one bit while I was home alone with the babe.

At that point, I was also eager to find out what my actual gift would be. I told him previously that I wanted to be surprised; that I hated having to tell people what to buy for my birthday. I’m high maintenance like that I suppose, but there’s just no fun in picking out your own gifts. As the day wore on I got less patient (which was cause for concern since I have a remarkably low supply to begin with.)

So eventually we get ready for dinner, the babysitters arrive and we hit the road on the way to unknown culinary delights. I still don’t know what the present is, but there’s a stack of birthday cards now waiting for me to open them when we get back from dinner (one from him, one from Andrew, and one from his parents).

We’re a little late leaving for dinner so Mr. Aggie calls the restaurant to let them know we’ll be arriving about ten minutes after our scheduled reservation. The hostess then informs him that we don’t have a reservation. Mr. Aggie made one–we have the phone records to back us up–but that doesn’t change the reality that it’s 7:00 on a very important Saturday night and chances are I’m going to be way overdressed for my romantic interlude at Dairy Queen.

–Freaking present tense. Gets me every time.–

We decided to soldier on to our original destination because they promised to get us in as quickly as possible and because he let me know it was seafood (!). We were told to wait in the lounge area while they tried to work us in; it ended up taking an hour to get us a table.  In the lounge, food was served, drinks flowed, and a moderately talented piano player lambasted his captives with Muzak-esque interpretations of eighties classics. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard Ace of Base, John Tesh-style. The lounge was quite small and the piano we had to almost yell to even have a conversation.

Eventually we got a table, and since this is getting so long and boring I’ll simply say the server was extremely odd (she made an awkward joke about dancing on the table) and not very good at her job and the food was only adequate. It was at this point that Mr. Aggie informed me that this was my birthday present and that I had told him that a nice dinner out was all that I wanted. He could  very well be telling the truth, though if I ever said such a thing it was obviously a blatant lie. How ‘s it a present for ME when someone else gets to eat/drink as much as I do? (Picture me stomping my feet while I say that in a high-pitched whine).

The whole debacle took so long that I didn’t even get a birthday dessert (tear) because I had to get home and pump before I died.

The End.


An update in few words March 30, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — aggieonboard @ 9:13 am

Last week: Fine.

This weekend: Nice.

Last night: Sucked hardcore.

I’m reading a book about how to help Stinks sleep longer and in his own bed. I’m not as concerned with the sleeping longer; there are few things we can do at this stage. Still, there are several things we are doing wrong (keeping him up too late, no routine, etc) that might be costing me some winks.

The first step in the process was to keep a log of his naps and overnight. The nap log looks great. The overnight not so much. Observe:

6:30 nurse (short)
6:45 play
6:55 fusses
7:10 asleep on me
7:20 put in swing
7:30 awake
7:40 swaddled
7:45 nurse 
8:05 place in swing
9:45 wake up, nurse
10:15 place in snuggle
11:30 wake up
11:35 asleep
12:00 wake up, nurse
12:20 asleep (back)
1:00 awake (tummy ache)
1:10 asleep
1:30 awake (rock)
1:40 asleep
2:00 awake (rock)
2:15 nurse
2:40 awake, barf, change
2:55 nurse
3:05 rock
4:20 wake up, nurse
4:30 sleep on Nibbles
5:40 wake up, nurse
6:00 asleep in swing

If I make it through the day without causing bodily harm to a child it will be a miracle.

In other news, Stinks has his two month checkup today, which means shots. My stomach is in knots. Also,we took his two month pictures right on time yesterday. Behold:




And so it begins. March 23, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — aggieonboard @ 10:14 am

Today I became a working mom. I don’t know yet how the label fits. I’m glad to be back doing something with my day, but I miss Stinks like whoa. Now before the SAHM get all up in arms about the ‘doing something’ comment, allow me to explain. All I mean is that the hours seemed to blur together at home (feed, sleep, poop, repeat) and I would lose entire weeks without noticing. Every hour or two I would have to mentally recalculate what day it was. Now my days will have definition and structure, and I’m a freak for structure. When the principal welcomed me back on the morning announcements, he also warned my kids to be careful and told them it was time to get to work. He wasn’t kidding.

Stinks is at home with Nibbles (doesn’t that sound like the beginning scene in a weird cartoon?) and I’ve called to check in only once. Both parties seem to be faring well. I think I’ll be okay to as long as el principe is getting one on one attention. The idea of him having to compete to have his needs met at daycare next week breaks my heart. Must not think about that now.  Here’s two happy images to make me (and you, oh empathetic interwebs) feel better.




Yay for adults! March 21, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — aggieonboard @ 4:50 pm

We’re going to dinner tonight and no one will barf on me. I am stoked. Stinks is staying with Mr. Aggie’s parents while we go to dinner with friends. This dinner will hopefully make up for my birthday dinner disaster last weekend. I’d fill you in on the details, but I’m just too exhausted. I’m a few lost hours of sleep away from talking to the furniture, and there’s not much relief in sight.

What doesn’t kill me just makes me more delusional.


Basketball is dumb. March 18, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — aggieonboard @ 9:10 pm

This isn’t baby related  so it will be a welcome detour for some of my more testosterone-prone readers.

I hate basketball. This is not an issue since most other people seem to ignore it except for a couple of weeks in late March. Now every Tom, Dick, and IT Guy are standing around the water cooler, suddenly transformed into expert analysts as they painstakingly fill out brackets based on extensive research or, more likely, alphabetical order. Luckily for me,  Mr. Aggie realizes an actual sport looms on the horizon and is generally immune to the hype. I did find a bracket on the dining room table today, and I must admit I had a pang of “I hardly know you!” at the betrayal.

Because my TV has momentarily been hijacked by a Celtics game (that is almost over, thank goodness) I bring you an extensive diatribe about why I hate this “sport.” A more pointless athletic event I cannot imagine, save for perhaps the shot put. Ten guys run back and forth on a small court trying to get a ball through a hoop as many times as possible. It’s a game a monkey can understand with minimal explanation and no visuals. Not even a smart monkey; I’m talking about the dumb poop throwing variety.

But what irritates me most about the slighty-evolved track meet isn’t the simplicity, it’s the duration. When points are scored rapidly and few variables are present, there is no reason for any athletic contest to last sixty minutes. Unless it’s the Celtics vs. Special Olympics, every single game comes down to the last two minutes. Why can’t we just start there?  Basketball is the Chinese water torture of sports.

Baseball–now that’s a real sport. It takes 22 guys to make it work (ok, you don’t have to count the guy out in left field, but you know what I mean). Entire games of basketball can be won by one out of ten guys (see: Kobe). Baseball takes an entire fleet of finely-tuned athletic specimens and a potentially overweight pitcher. Every pitch changes the game in some way; it’s a hitter’s count or a pitcher’s, baserunners are going or trying to fake you out. You don’t know how long the game will last and the better team can always lose.

There’s a whole other element to baseball that basketball lacks: the weather. No one’s ever going to lose a critical basketball game because of an influx of flying bugs. No one’s going to slide in mud or try to keep his pitching hand dry in the rain. That’s another thing that irritates me: basketball players don’t even get dirty. You shouldn’t get paid millions of dollars to play a sport in which you could just febreeze your uniform and wear it again the next day.

People who love baseball, who really love it, are scholars of the game. You can study it every day for decades and still not understand all the intricacies or know all the stats. Baseball is an art; basketball is fingerpainting day at preschool.

Dear Lord this game is in overtime. Shoot me now.


Yay for Nibbles the clown! March 16, 2009

Filed under: Uncategorized — aggieonboard @ 6:46 am

My mom (aka Nibbles the Clown, so named for how she tries to nibble Andrew’s face off every time she picks him up) is coming to spend the day. That means I get to go shopping alone and take a nice long nap in which I sink into a deep sleep that only comes when you’re not constantly waiting for someone to start wailing. I’m serious about that PTSD thing–I really hate to go to sleep because my stomach drops when he cries.

I’m not as excited about the shopping, only because I have to buy work clothes for my funhouse-mirror-esque physique that I don’t plan on keeping for long (the physique or the clothes).

For now we’re just hanging out, since SOMEONE woke us up by pooping at 5:45 and deciding that was a good time to get his day started. He’s strapped into his bouncy chair grinning like a loon while I wait for my chocolate chip muffins to finish baking. Yum!