Bye bye boobies

On Sunday, B and I decided that it's time for me to give up nursing. The little dude just wasn't into it any more. He would nurse for a couple of minutes (fussing the whole time), then pull off and start crying. I don't know if he wasn't getting enough, wasn't getting it fast enough, or some combination of both. Even when he would nurse, he'd still act hungry when he was done and would take a four ounce bottle...obviously something wasn't working for him. Even though I hated nursing, I'm still - inexplicably - a little sad to be done. And I feel horribly guilty about it. I was really hoping to make it to at least six months, which was still far short of my original goal of a year, but this is really going to be best for all of us.

In case you were wondering, drying up your milk supply sucks. My boobs are rock hard, sore, and leaking. If I ever thought I might escape the curse of mom boobs, I know better now. Hell, I'll be lucky to get out of this without stretchmarks, at this rate. The ladies currently look like bad, bad, uneven implants. And did I mention they hurt? A stiff breeze blowing in the wrong direction is enough to almost take me down right now, and holding the baby is pure torture. He keeps squirming his hands, elbows, feet, head, and other assorted body parts into my poor mammaries. It's so bad that I would give just about anything for the sweet relief that comes from letting the baby nurse. But I've been strong and haven't caved to my desire to be milked. I cannot wait until this passes.

Sweet freedom

The bebe stayed at Grandma's last night. I asked my mom to take him because I only slept about three hours on Wednesday night, I spent almost 13 hours at work on Thursday, and I'm getting sick; I needed a solid night of sleep. She was more than happy to oblige.

Oh, the joys of being baby free. B and I had forgotten how sweet the child-free life was. After work, we took a nap. Then we made dinner and caught up on stuff on the DVR...WITHOUT INTERRUPTION! After that, we spent some quality time together, and stayed up too late just talking and having fun together. And we still managed to get a full eight hours of sleep. Oh, and I took a long, luxurious shower, complete with leg shaving. I couldn't tell you the last time I shaved my legs...I just don't have the time for it any more. The whole 18 hours has been heavenly.

Unfortunately, it's time to get back to reality. I'm off to pick up the wee one in just a bit. *Sigh*

Legal hilarity

Today, LagLiv, whose blog I thoroughly enjoy, introduced me to Courtoons. According to B, it's all lame lawyer humor, but, OMG, some of these things crack me up. A few gems that I've come upon so far:

Hilarious.

Is it working?

Days like today, I really wonder if my happy pills are actually working. It's been just over a month now, and, overall, I've been feeling much happier. However, the deep, underlying despair that consumed me for months is still there, lurking right below the rainbows and puppies surface, and it still comes to the forefront much more than I would like. For example, I just told a friend who said she could never imagine giving up her baby for adoption that I could (and would) do it in a heartbeat...especially if they let me do it with my five month old. That's not normal.

I was sorta hoping that the medicine would be all I needed to snap the hell out of my funk. Unfortunately, it hasn't quite worked that way. I don't know how to fix this, either. Different drugs? Higher dosage? Tropical vacation sans baby? (I like that option best). If I figure it out, I'll let you know (if I don't run away from home first).

I changed my mind

As I was showing B my newest set of claw marks this morning, and we were discussing the baby's peculiar habit of being sweet, fun, and lovable during the day, but an absolute terror at night, B came up with the obvious answer...the baby is part werewolf. But not the go-crazy-during-the-full-moon kind. Oh, no. He's a special breed that goes crazy as soon as the sun goes down (and gets better slightly before dawn). That would explain so much. The claws, the nastiness, the inexplicable gnawing on my shoulders/jaw/nose, and the fun new trick of chomping down on my nipples while he's nursing (you gotta watch your body parts around this one). We couldn't quite figure out how he got the werewolf DNA (I don't remember having sex with a werewolf, but B could be hiding something from me...he is a pretty hairy guy...), but it's the only explanation that makes any sense. So forget the Wolverine thing. I'm now convinced that the kid is part werewolf.

Baby Wolverine

You're looking at the aftermath of a recent nursing session. The bebe has recently started flailing like a madman while eating. Add that to the razor sharp talons that are apparently hidden in his fingertips (a la Wolverine from the X-Men), and you get mommy-carnage. I've got scratches on my chest, neck, and face. Clipping his nails doesn't seem to do any good. Some days, that actually makes in worse. I'm hoping he outgrows the flailing soon. My skin has enough problems without the added gashes.

I'll leave you with a recent picture.

Just kidding (bet you didn't know there was an actual baby Wolverine out there). Here's the real one.

Isn't he cute???

Before and after

Before I was a mom...I was well rested. I was intelligent and fairly competent at my job. I have a memory like a steel trap. I weighed about 20 pounds more than I do now. I was mentally stable(-ish). I had free time. I had (some) disposable income. My house was reasonably clean the majority of the time. I showered, ate breakfast, and relaxed without interruption. Bodily fluids were never a concern. I could happily cuddle babies knowing that I could give them back. I didn't have any baby love in my life. I had sex.

After I became a mom...I'm constantly exhausted and unable to sleep more than three or four hours at a time. I've become an incompetent moron. I can't remember anything. I'm getting much closer to my goal weight. I'm mentally unbalanced to the point of needing to be medicated. Every spare minute is taken up by a screaming baby. All my money goes to diapers and formula. I live in a sty and can't find the time or the free hands to clean. I shower at warp speed, don't eat breakfast, and don't usually get more than a few minutes to myself before someone is demanding my attention. There's rarely a day when I'm not covered in someone else's pee, poop, puke, and/or drool. I'm the sucker who has to take the baby home at the end of the night. I get a healthy dose of gummy baby smiles, sweet baby giggles, and cuddly baby snuggles on a (mostly) daily basis. Sex? What's that?

No real point to this post, I suppose. I was just thinking about how different my life is now, and I'm still not sure it's changed for the better. The best thing I've gotten out of this ordeal has been some serious weight loss (now let's hope I don't gain it back when I quit nursing). I struggle with motherhood on a daily basis, and no amount of melt-my-heart smiles, giggles, and hugs can truly make it better. I still hold out hope that I can make the adjustments that need to be made, but it's hard, and very slow going. Anyone who's reading that loves motherhood needs to say a special thank you to the Big Guy upstairs tonight...you have no idea how much better and easier it makes the motherhood journey.

The baby needs a blog name

I've been trying to come up with one for awhile, but I'm not getting anywhere. I'm not a fan of using his first initial (reminds me too much of our disaster of a former president), but I haven't come up with anything much better. All I've thought of is DB - stands for Demon Baby - but that really only applies between the hours of 7:00 PM and 7:00 AM. I need something a bit more universally appropriate for him.

Any suggestions for me?

Fucking liars

This is part of a chart in an article from WhatToExpect.com. Please note the second sentence in the "Amount of Sleep Needed" column.

So why is it that my four-month-old only sleeps for maybe six hours a night and four or so hours during the day? Since I get in trouble when I blame the baby for being awful, I'm going to blame the article authors for being liars. Assholes.

Need sleepy

Sorry for the recent absence. Since the bebe decided about a week and a half ago that he was boycotting sleep, I've been spending every spare second while I'm home trying to catch some ZZZZs. It's not working too well. With a baby who's waking up every two or three hours all night long, I feel like I've got a four-day-old, not a four-month-old. That doesn't work so well when you're working and can't take naps. It's killing me. So, for something mindless that my sleep-starved brain can handle, I present you Me (via Flickr).

To do:

1. Type your answer to each question into Flickr search.

2. Pick an image from the first page.

3. Copy and paste the url for each pic into this mosaic maker (set the boxes to 3x4. Or 4x3. Whichever you prefer).

The questions (bonus points if you can guess my answers):

1. What is your first name?

2. What is your favorite food?

3. What high school did you go to?

4. What is your favorite color?

5. Who is your celebrity crush?

6. Favorite drink?

7. Dream vacation?

8. Favorite dessert?

9. What you wanted to be when you grew up.

10. What do you love most in life?

11. One word to describe you.

12. Where do you live?