Am I missing something?

So, apparently, babies need a bedtime? I just figured they sleep when they need to just like they know when they need to eat. And in the case of my son, any sleep is good sleep. Does he need to be on a schedule already? Isn't there going to be time for that when bedtime is wedged between soccer, latin, cooking classes and ballroom dancing? Afterall we want him to be a well rounded American citizen and in this country only losers and foreigners sleep, the rest of us consider it to be a sign of weakness like binge drinking or biting your nails only more harmful and much more disgusting. Is the outcry for scheduling a baby so that they will get used to this go go go lifestyle early? Or is it a way that parents can have the evenings to themselves for "Grown-up Naughty Hour"?

I feel this overwhelming pressure to chart feedings, poops and naps just so that in case anyone asks, I can feel like a competent parent. In reality I am a big ole hippie who keeps the baby in bed with me, feeds on demand and refuses to count diapers unless I am doing so while admiring my stash. The idea of weaning and introducing solids terrifies me as I am sure I will be getting even more feed back from the Baby Nazis about those subjects. "Your baby is how old and you are still breastfeeding?" "Jarred baby food is easier!" "Homemade babyfood is best!" "How come YOUR baby can't SIGN for what he wants to eat?"

Thats another thing, whatever happened to letting the baby scream until you guess correctly as to what the child needs? Now we actually have to communicate with them and know immediately!? Where is the fun in that!? As cute as it is to watch a one year old sign for milk, it is a bit disconcerting that the sign for milk is that of milking a cow. I think I want to invent my own signs. Oh, what him? No, sorry, he wasn't being rude, that is his sign for 'Please Change Me'. No no, he doesn't need a Kleenex, he is signing 'Mother, do we have some cheerios for snack time?' Oh the fun we will have with strangers and certain fingers.

Is it weird that I want to post a video of Ollie sleeping?

STOP!!!

Old mothers are famous for telling new mothers "This too shall pass". I don't want it to pass! I don't want him to grow up, find a wife (of whom I will NEVER approve), and leave me. I cling to every day of his babyhood because it is the last time he will be a baby. As excited as I am to see him discover new things - like toes, who knew they were so fascinating - I know that it is just one more thing that I will never experience him finding again.

Here is a good example: I have sort of a hobby with trying to make Oliver laugh. He is soooo almost there. He grins, smiles, does this sorta flirty half smile, and even open mouth grins but just when I think he is about to start guffawing, he stops just short to stare into space. At first I took this personally, thinking it was just because my stand-up was not reaching my audience. So I dumbed it down. Instead of talking about the cluster f*%& that is our "democratic process" that gets tons of laughs normally, I start talking about poop. Well, now CT is laughing, but the baby is nonplussed. So I bring it even further down. My best tricks become saying "Yes! Yeeees!!!" in a really high annoying voice that the baby seems to totally enjoy all the while wiping his baby behind with a warm wipe. This last part is crucial to the all out grin. I mean who WOULDN'T want a warm wipe fresh from the wipe warmer!? I am thinking about getting one installed in my bathroom when we do the remodel. Another trick includes a "goomy" and me "getting it". Not sure what a goomy is or what one would do with a goomy if it was gotten, but I believe it must be located somewhere on a baby's neck as that is where I grab when goomy hunting.

As much energy as I put into making my son laugh and as rewarding as that first giggle will be, it will also be so sad. That first laugh will be the last first laugh. What if the video camera isn't on!? OR horrors of horrors, what if I am not around when this happens!? (Who am I kidding, I am the funniest person I know, of course he will laugh at me and no one else. ) So with every onesie that I put away for his younger sibling, every time I have to put his diaper on a little looser, and for every time I have to readjust his carseat for his growing self, more than anything I want to just squeeze him tight, put a brick on his head and beg him not to grow up.

This is an old video of Oliver waking up. He doesn't do the grunty thing anymore...this video also features my left boob.

My First Easter

Okay, I have to make this quick before The Boob gets back on and starts looking at diapers again. I swear, this woman has some kind of obsession with these things. I don't say anything, but for my money it doesn't get much better than naked...

So, this weekend I experienced something called "Easter". The way I know is because I have a shirt that says "My First Easter" on it. I actually have two. The problem with baby clothes is that there is a limited amount of style. I haven't told these people yet that I absolutely LOATHE the color blue. I prefer pink, but do these people listen!? Anyway, back to the Easter...

Let me get this straight, some dude died in a horrific, terrifying and violent manner thousands of years ago only to become some kind of Zombie a few days later at which time he terrorized all of his friends by making them put their hands in his zombie wounds. There is an entire religion based on this!? So, ultimately, for Easter we are celebrating a dead guy's return with eggs, bunnies and baskets full of plastic grass. I think I am missing something here...but what do I know, I am only two months old.

Some old guy held me and sang me a song called "Tell me a Tory". It was sweet at first and I laughed to show that I appreciated his effort but it continued. It went on for so long that finally I just feigned sleep so that it would stop. What is a Tory? Why would I want you to tell one to me? Who is this old guy? I did like the little fellow (I think he was a boy like me, but he did have really long hair and long nails so it could have been a girl I guess) that came to see me the same day. He was having so much fun, I wanted to get down and join him, but apparently it was bad playing cause some lady kept yelling at him to stop. Poor guy/girl he just wanted to play with the army men! So did I but I won't make THAT mistake...

So, then the big people had dinner at a new house. I don't really get all that stuff big people stuff in their faces. I guess that is why they have all of those white things in their mouth, another thing I just don't get. Don't they know all they need is boob juice?! It seems dangerous to use those sharp things that spear the stuff, boobies are soft and are only dangerous because you might get squirted in the eye, so I keep mine closed.

One thing is for sure, I have a very large village that I will be raised in. Lucky me!

Have Passport, will travel

Oliver went to the post office with us today to get his passport picture taken and he should be a travelin' man in 4-6 weeks! Amazingly, it didn't take the prerequisite 4 days wait in line either! We were in and out in about an hour...just like Lenscrafters! I can't believe I have a son who has a passport...it is almost like he is a real person. I met a woman in line who was far too open with me about her birth and child rearing experiences. Much to her 16 year old daughter's chagrin, she felt she had to share with me 1)the wonders of having three c-sections 2)why formula feeding is best and 3)extremely embarrassing stories about her three daughters. I kept thinking, maybe this woman thinks she knows me...or maybe I DO know her and I just forgot who she is. My proper little mind couldn't conceive of why a perfect stranger would act as if I have known her all her life. She even used people's names in the story for instance, instead of "my older daughter" she would say "Patricia". How should I know who Patricia is!?

I just nodded along until FINALLY my friend called with "Sackal Baby Watch 2008" updates. You see, my friend, Megan, (see how nice it is to explain who someone is before you introduce them in a story!?) is expecting her second baby - any second now - and I have promised to help her with the breastfeeding part. Kinda like a friendly lactation consultant who knows you personally. So she has been calling me to update me on her progress. So after I hung up with her - by the way, she will be holding that baby by the morning - I "had" to call my mom to let her know. The woman, if you can believe it, kept trying to interrupt my phone call to talk! Some people...

Oliver, in true Ollie form, took an extremely ridiculous picture that in no way resembled a smile. It was all they could do to get him to look straight ahead. The picture they took I wasn't privy to take home so I found the closest one I could find in our own stash of baby memorabilia. Looks like he just got caught during a panty raid doesn't it? Thank goodness we don't live in Canada! They would have made us wait to get a picture with his mouth closed. At this rate it might happen right before he enters school. Mouth breather!

The Addiction

So most of you know that we are cloth diapering Oliver. This makes his butt rival that of J. Lo (pre-twins) but it also keeps diaper rash away and is saving us tons of money. Well, sorta. You see, when I started I thought that there wasn't a whole lot to this whole cloth thing. You buy some covers, you buy some pre-folds and maybe one or two night time pocket diapers, Bumgenius for me, and you are pretty much done right? Yea, the POOR people do! (imagine nose in air)

Well, then I found out about fitteds. These are like prefolds but they have snaps or velcro to do the folding and pinning for you. You normally would use a cover with these as well, but around the house sometimes it is okay to go cover free so that air can get to the hiney. Okay, so put me down for a couple of those. But which ones are the best?! After hanging around some websites, I found that there are "Hot" diapers, which at the moment are Mutts and Goodmamas to name a few. Especially Goodmamas-see picture. Here is where it gets complicated.

Goodmamas can be purchased new for $33. Oh but wait, you have to get on a mailing list to be notified when they are stocked. And they are rarely stocked. So onto plan B, stalking diaper trading sites. Very rarely you can find GMs (as they are called by those in the know) for a decent price, if you stalk the site constantly. More people, however, do auctions. Oh, great! Auctions are fun cause you can get something for cheaper than normal. Wow, do YOU have a lot to learn. Some of these auctions drive the price of one, count em, one diaper to $200 and up. I shit you not sir! And remember, these diapers get covered up once you put them on so does the print really matter?! Oh yes, and a baby poops on them.

Don't even get me started on wool covers! These are apparently spectacular but so expensive it makes my head spin. I have asked my friend and neighbor the knitting fiend to make me some, but it is kinda slave labor as I don't plan on paying her...maybe with burned coffee cakes...

Sure, I don't NEED another diaper anymore than I NEED another handbag or pair of shoes. But did that stop me from purchasing three fluffymail fitteds yesterday? (I feel that Fluffys are going to be the newest hot diaper) Really I should be spending my money on some red edged Prefolds for when Ollie grows out of the ones he has now and some more covers, you know, practical stuff. I will do this too, but right now I have auctions to bid, websites to stalk!

Breastfeeding on Sesame Street

I am a huge fan of "The Street" but was saddened by episodes featuring baby Elmo drinking from a bottle. Lets get back to our roots Sesame! WWJHD? - What Would Jim Henson Do? I remember the clip below from my years addicted to PBS, it may have been one of the reasons I walked around with my Burt doll stuck up my shirt "nursing" him. (That, and seeing my baby sister eating the same way!)

If more girls grew up with these positive influences, would more women feed their babies properly?? I also woner why they decided to take this clip off the air...as one of my buddies online said, "Can you imagine the protesting? The "oh my goodness it will turn little girls into lesbians and boys will think boobs are for something other than groping in the dark and drooling over in Playboy" comments? " I would laugh, but it is too sad and too true.

Anyway, while I climb down off my soapbox, watch the video and pass on the booby love!

My Farm Weekend

Sorry folks for taking so long to write about my first Farm trip. As most of you already know, The Boob found it necessary to take me to some bright room that smelled like that stuff they put on my lifeline to make it fall off. Sigh, I still miss that thing. Anyway, I guess I was bad that day cause just when The Boob was really making me smile with some great funny faces, a woman, nay a She Devil came and stabbed me twice in both legs with poison darts. WHY!!! I say they were poison because even after the pain left, I felt yucky. I didn't feel like writing that is for sure.

Anyway, we went to the farm. Great ride there, bumpy, just the way I like it, had a great nap. I woke up once to find that I was no longer moving. I quickly explained to them why that was not okay with me and we started moving again. To think that that they were trying to eat during MY naptime. The nerve. Once there, I noticed, there isn't a whole lot of inside out there. Thank goodness The Boob and that Tall Guy brought my throne so I could quietly vibrate and look out over all my subjects.

It got a little annoying a few times. Yes Boob, I get it, Cows go Moo, why do you think they call them Moo Cows!? I was never left alone though and my trusty pup was at my feet at a second when I called. I have noticed that people really enjoy my company and that all I have to do is squirm a little to get about 6 feet taller. Nice.

It was also a bit confusing. There were several Boobs there, and they were all holding me. I figured, one is just as good as the other and the bigger the better right!? Apparently, not so. Color me embarrassed. I must figure out a way to label all of these Boobs and Tall Guys as to not get them confused with my Boob and Tall Guy. I tell you what though, that country air does a body good...I have never slept so good in my life.

I have learned the following things about the country.
1. It makes Tall Guy With Beard go crazy and roll on the ground. Apparently it was part of a "game". (See Picture)
2. Not sure what The Boob ate on Saturday night but it made my dinner taste like chicken...turkey? Anyway it was good.
3. Something about the country makes Tall Guys build fires.
4. Cows go Moo...jeez enough all ready with that.
5. The tiny jets that zoom through the air are bad...avoid them.
6. Lots of spinny sky things I love so much, who thought of those things, they are brilliant!!