Monthly Archives: January 2009

Crying like a little girl

People.  I am crying like a little girl.  Instead of letting my baby nap in his crib or bouncy chair this morning, I’m selfishly holding him on my chest, all snuggled up in a little ball by my neck.  I can’t put him down.  My emotions are just under the surface due to, well, the little bundle, but also lack of sleep.  He and I have a cold.  I never get sick, my defenses are down.  I have the laptop on the coffee table in front of me and I’m watching episodes of Desperate Housewives and Burn Notice.  When I have to “Click to Continue” I hit the button with my big toe.  That’s right, my big toe;  so I don’t disturb the bundle of gooey love that is asleep and breathing into my neck.  Why am I crying?  That last episode of DH with Eli Skruggs just did me in.  The bundle just woke up, we had a chat, and now he’s chilling in his chair while I type this note.  Ooop, he’s done chilling.  More later.


Wordless Wednesday


It’s just kudzu, sweetheart- A Queen of Hindsight Moment

I can’t think of a good list to participate in ABDPBT’s Listlessness Mondays, so I’ll leave you with a Queen of Hindsight Moment.  Maybe next Monday I can get on it.

A few years ago Husband and I were living in a house where the backyard consisted of a gravel parking spot for 2 cars separating the house from the ‘wild’.  The wild was the area with a few trees and bushes, lots of vines, and a lot of kudzu.  Kudzu is a nasty vine that grows inches every day in the summer in the south and smothers the trees and other plants that it lives on.  We maintained the ‘yard’ so it didn’t get out of control, but there was no lawn, so it wasn’t like we were hanging out there.  It was nice and green to look at but there was no reason to walk around.  We lived next to a small retail shop with a parking lot in the back, which butted up next to our backyard.  There was a small metal fence there separating our yard and the parking lot, with lots of bushes along it to hide it.  It really looked nicer than I’m describing it.

Anyway, one day my dad and I were sitting on the deck, which was a story above the ground level, and I see a man and woman get out of their car in the parking lot, each with a dog, and they proceed to walk them over to our backyard, somehow get through the fence, and let their dogs to their business.  I see them walking over there and am in shock that they are doing this.  I stand up and say “excuse me, that’s our backyard.”  The man says to me, “It’s just kudzu, sweetheart.”

There were so many things about that statement that bothered me.  The following exchange went something like this:

Me: “I don’t care if it is kudzu, it’s my yard.”

A-hole: “You’re such an f-ing democrat.”

Me: “What?  It’s our yard, jerk.”

A-hole: “What do you care democrat?  What, is your dad going to do something about it?” (My not imposing 60 year old dad is standing up at this point.)

Me: “No, but I’m calling the police so get out of here.”  I go inside and get the phone and call the cops while I’m on my deck so they can see me.  

A-hole: “You’re such a bitch… .blah blah blah.”

This whole time I can hear the woman he’s with trying to talk him back to the car saying to just ignore me, that I’m crazy.  Um, yeah.

I can’t see the license plate from where I am and surprisingly the cops show up pretty quickly, but not before the idiots leave.  I give them the deal and they say they’ll keep an eye out.  I really didn’t expect them to do anything, but I was so angry at this a-hole it seemed the right thing to do.

Queen of Hindsight that I am, after they left, I had all sorts of great comebacks.  Here’s what I remember:

  • ooh, you’re calling me a democrat?  Ouch.
  • I can always change parties, you’ll always be an a-hole
  • Well sweetheart, what’s your address I’ll bring my dog over to crap in your yard tomorrow (I didn’t have a dog)
  • Watch out for the poison ivy!
  • Don’t step on our pet snakes, we let them out for a little exercise

What have you got?

I don’t have the words.

Good morning people.  The stream of family that has been here for the past 3 weeks to help me with the baby (almost 6 weeks old)  has finally trickled to an end.  It was wonderful.  First my sister and her husband.  Happy, recently married people that haven’t yet tiptoed into their 30’s but are very close and don’t have a clue about babies.  I don’t blame them for not knowing anything, neither did I until I gave birth to the little bundle.  

My sister is a wonderful cook and her goal was to make a fantastic dinner for us each night of the week they were here; and she did.  But ask me if we ever all got to sit down and eat it together during any one of the nights.  Yeah, no.  We had elaborate chicken in marsala and mushroom sauce, asparagus risotto, cheesy puffy baked goods… all sorts of things; my husband and I took turns enjoying the meals.  I’d snarf a few bites for 5 minutes, then he’d snarf for a few.  Sister and BIL had no idea what to expect.  I warned them that there would be crying.  A lot of crying. Crying all night.  Some of it by the baby.  Still, they came.  From California.  For a week.  They were brave and naive.  However, BIL brought his fancy new camera so I totally took advantage of him and he took a zillion shots of the little bundle, many ended up on our announcement. Oh sure, they held the baby too.  They weren’t afraid, just didn’t know what to do.  And this was week #2 so I couldn’t offer much advice.  Sister even changed diapers and outfits and tried to solve some crying jags, and they will be a great aunt and uncle to him.   I’m also sure the week with us was more effective than any other birth control.

Mom and dad came out for a week, left for a few days and then stayed for another week.  That was especially wonderful.  Not because of the copious amounts of diapers mom changed and the hours dad spent walking the floor with the bundle; not even the repeated trips to Costco or the grocery store.  But because with them, they brought my sanity.  

I knew this would be hard.  My head and heart knew this would be hard.  My husband knew it would be hard.  But the hardest thing is hearing my baby cry.  Not the fussing, but the whole hearted crying that says something is so wrong and it needs to be fixed NOW.   It breaks my heart.  It hurts and it makes me cry.  

However, this morning for the first time he smiled at me.  Not the little smiles that may be the side effect of something else.  But a smile that was the result of actually looking at me and recognizing me.  I’m still tired, but looking back at little moments like that, and thinking of what is to come keeps me going.


People.  I’m having a meltdown.  Baby is 4 weeks old and I hear it gets easier, it must get easier otherwise people would not reproduce at all let alone have more than one.  Tell me it gets easier!