Here is what has been going on in my house for the past two days, day and night by the way. I will show you what it looked like from both my and Oliver's perspective.
Me: Please stop crying! Please?! Seriously? Again? You want to eat again. Sure, since I have nothing left to give! Can I get a granola bar first? No, okay, what about going to pee really quick...please? I will be fast!! Okay, fine you win.
Oliver: Foodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfoodfood.
First of all, I would like to apologize to everyone for my absence of blog in the past few days. You see, I have had a baby attached to my tit. I can not pee, eat, drink or get off the couch without Oliver raising holy heck about it. He has been eating every hour for two days now. I was hoping this would mean sleeping through the night, no such luck, it was every hour during the night as well. Given that I nursed him for 20 minutes each time, I got 40 minutes of sleep at a time. I had to get up at 6am this morning to fit in a shower, because my big important husband couldn't be bothered to stick around in the morning to allow me to bathe so I fit my hygene around him. All in all, I got around 4.5 hours of sleep or 280 minutes of sleep. This isn't counting the rocking, burping and waking up because the baby was groaning in his sleep.
I tried walking the block with him slung around me which was a good idea, except that I brought the dog. Sadly, we ran into some kids playing which scared the dog so much she pulled off the halter and went speeding down the street back home. I guess I should be thankful for the fact that she stayed on the sidewalk but at that point I was kinda hoping for a hit and run. My ever so helpful neighbor nicely suggested that my dog may have gotten off the leash. REALLY!? Thanks for the newsflash sherlock!! She just stood there and laughed as I trudged after my (dead) dog with my infant strapped onto my chest. I wonder how she would feel if she got a flaming bag of poo on her front step and then I stood across the street and said, "Hey, I think your welcome mat is on fire." and then when she stepped on it, "Hey, I think you have crap on your shoes." Heres your sign lady!
So desperate were we that we went to Target as soon as CT got home to buy a swing. He hates it. Not surprising, as he hates everything except boobs. I guess this is good practice for the teenage years (yuk yuk). In fact, I am torturing him at this very moment by forcing him to swing in the evil thing. Well, at least it was expensive.
Oh yea, and the crying infant that is sucking my soul out through my nipples? He lost his umbilical cord. That WOULD have been news if I wasn't so tired. He really does have the cutest bellybutton though!
2 comments:
I'm on my way!
:)
My Mother
~Ann Taylor
Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hushed me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.
When sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet hushaby,
And rocked me that I should not cry?
My Mother.
Who sat and watched my infant head,
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.
When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.
Who dressed my doll in clothes so gay,
And fondly taught me how to play,
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother.
Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.
Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God's holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?
My Mother.
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who was so very kind to me,
My Mother?
Ah no! the thought I cannot bear,
And if God please my life to spare,
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother.
When thou art feeble, old, and grey,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.
And when I see thee hang thy head,
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed,
My Mother.
For could our Father in the skies
Look down with pleased or loving eyes,
If ever I could dare despise
My Mother?
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