It's March

Sorry the last few entries have been pretty lackluster. A lot of telling and not a lot of engagement or even decent jokes. For some reason it's harder for me to convey happiness than it is frustration or sadness and lately things have been pretty cool. Sad and frustrated motherhood blogs are interesting because that is the stuff that all moms feel but don't like to admit. That's the stuff that other moms read when they're at the end of their ropes and think "thank god, I'm not the only person who feels that way!" I like being candid, it goes hand-in-hand with being a real human being. I guess it's because typing up a paragraph of how amazing your child is runs the risk of containing a lot of cliches like "light of my life" "my whole world" "my heart outside of my body" and a million other overused momisms. OK we know I love her, we know she is awesome. No reason to bore my readers to death about it, you can find that on every other mom blog ever made; probably on the mom blog with the vegan toddler named Quinoa Chrysanthemum who has never eaten a booger in her entire life.

So

While this started as a motherhood and pregnancy blog it is now simply a life blog as not to limit myself from talking about other goings-on. You see, I'm in the works of having a short story published on an online review and in my bio I have provided the link to this blog, therefore I should keep it fresh and updated so newcomers don't think I've already dipped out of the writing experience.
(If you found yourself here from Ampersandlit.com welcome!) I kind of stopped writing for awhile because I felt like there was nothing left to say about motherhood at this point in time, although I know that the future will bring more. Things have fallen into place. While I'm still far from professional mother figure I feel like I've at least got it down to where there is nothing new to share. Diapers, walks, wipes, and bottles, you can guess how it goes.

As attest to my novice status I will admit that I cracked up while reading nursery rhymes when I found this little gem

"Sleep baby, sleep
father will guard the sheep
mother will shake the dreamland tree...."

And here is where I lost it. What? I most certainly do not shake "dreamland trees" while you sleep. I do nothing of the sort. I am beside you, sleeping as well. So don't kick me in the fat pouch.

another unfinished lackluster post, written in march published in April.

Month 3

Again typing on my iPhone so excuse the typos.

After all the hollering and ungodly screaming of the past, month 3 has arrived like a burst of sunlight through black clouds. All the things I couldn't stand before have faded away and for now, there are no more mysteries. She cries when she has a reasonable need and if you predict them and read her body language, the crying ends before it begins. She has cried for a grand total of 20 minutes today. Combined. No more crying just because and screeching because you sat down in a chair. Dixie is now officially my best buddy.

Instead of sitting in the dark being hollered at we now have a lot of fun together. And not just me, daddy too as she is now recognizing faces!  Now when we go on walks she looks around curiously, sometimes babbling and waving her arms around. I can leave her on her floor gym and she is fine playing by herself, no need to be in my arms 24/7. This little lady talks to herself, plays by herself, and gives herself giggling fits with her toys. She babbles to anyone who talks to her. She smiles like an angel when you kiss her on the cheek. She is my best little friend in the whole world now! Her personality is really beginning to develop.

She gets upset if she's ignored, and being asleep next to her should she wake up first counts as ignoring her. She flails her arms around and fusses until you open your eyes, but once she sees you're awake she beams and giggles and never stops smiling. For some reason she especially loves seeing her daddy in the morning, she won't take her eyes off him and her smile never fades.
She loves pushing herself to learn new things. As you can see in her rolling video on Facebook, she tries really hard to master mobility. She strains, she grunts, she furrows her little brows and rocks back and forth. Sometimes she seems so angry that I decide to aid her in flipping back over and she HATES that! It makes her so angry every single time! So although she gets frustrated, I try to not intervene unless she's really upset.
She likes her cats. She loves to watch them and a happy meow in her direction almost always makes her smile. She has responded with some babbling before too.

Everything else I'm thinking

Night 2. Another afternoon coffee, another tired body and busy mind. Another entry on the iPhone so whatever typos.

Today was my 26th birthday. It was ok. I saw a lactation consultant, drove back and forth across town, and played with Dixie. I have been celebrating my birthday bit by bit over the past few days so the mundanity of today didn't bother me too much. Went to the UC on Friday, hang out at my parents house on Saturday, and had Small House for dinner and a slice of super delicious chocolate cake on Sunday. Overall I can't really complain.

Except I'm going to.

Everything is great. My parents and Grandparents gave me the most wonderful gift I could've gotten. And overall the past few days have been pretty good, but why do I feel kind of sad? I could have done more. We have a little extra cash. My parents offered to watch Dixie for the night but I declined because, simply put, I just don't feel like doing anything. Whatever I think of doing it just doesn't really seem like any fun anyways, either that or it seems like a coping mechanism for an underlying problem.

Birthday aside, I am depressed. I've been depressed. It's not really surprising. All new moms are depressed. You spend everyday in isolation in a cluttered house being screamed at, of course you get depressed.

Now back to birthday, if I had gone somewhere to eat again to cheer myself up I will be eating for the wrong reason and enabling a bad habit of emotional eating. Eating is for sustenance, I'm done eating as a pick me up.

I considered buying myself a gift, but that is just as bad. I shouldn't need to spend money to cheer myself up. Its not right to rely on a shopper's high and waste money when we are so tight with bills. I tried to think of something I truly needed that justified that behavior, but there is nothing so I decided against that.To shake the feeling of unhappiness I did some sit ups, push ups, and side crunches. I figured what does eating and shopping do but release endorphins? I'm just moody because the weather has messed up my workout routine. These helped at the time, but now lying in bed I can't help but face these feelings and it's too late to start working out again I really miss riding my bike.

I'm considering getting rid of a lot of stuff.

It seems like we have a lot of stuff but really  after all the moves we are down to basics. Even still I'm in the mood to purge. The question is what is freeing and empowering and what is gloomy dramatics?   A lot of the things that did make the many moves are craft supplies and I am considering parting ways with them because I don't think I will ever have the time to do crafts again. Same story with puzzles.

I wondered when I got pregnant how I would change once I became a mother. The answer is that you become nothing else.

So happy birthday.

Everything I've thought

Here's everything I'm thinking about as I try to go to sleep: You'll probably see a lot of typos. It's late and I'm using an iPhone, whatever.

Annie was right it's really antnoying when people are telling you left and right how you should care for your baby. It's double annoying because they're just trying to help so you can't really be outwardly mad so you just have to choke on it and wear a tight smile like you've had plastic surgery.

I told myself "if I have this s 2nd coffee right now it won't really mess with my sleep." Now here I am, tired but unable to sleep.

When we will ever get ahead? Things were going good then Josh got downsized. I mean we are doing  ok with help from my family but damn, I guess I just miss having some disposable income. I'm spending too much time  online, looking at all the adverts, getting that greed and jealousy in my heart. Craving possessions when I have all the happiness for free.

I have no real want, or need, of any concern as of today. As far as life goes, things couldn't be better.

Dixie has been an angel as of late. You can put her down and she will hang out by herself. She smiles a lot and babbles, she plays with toys and watches her shows. She holds her head up herself and is working on crawling. She's great.

I got a hydroponics kit at a resale store. I want to get that going soon. I always love to have plants inside but all the apartments that poor people can afford are practically windowless. 1 tiny gnome window per room. Terrible for plants. No plants would be possible if I didn't have the hydroponics kit. Finally, indoor living flowers.

I'm considering cutting all my hair off. I miss my pixie cut.

I love cleaning and fussing over my plants and let's. I wish Dixie would fuss even less so I can do the things I love. I love her and I love to fuss over and take care of her but seeing my bathroom spotless just makes me feel at ease.

I want to start back at school but we are so short on cash I will have to get a job. School plus work plus baby seems a little bit much to just bite off right away. I know. Other women have done it! But listen, I work hard but my spirit is a fragile thing. If I do nothing but school and work and baby all the time and never have moments to enjoy myself I will get all depressed feeling like I'm toiling my life away and I'm just a soulless wraith slogging through endless obligations. Then I'll cry in the shower and lay motionless around the house waiting for my soul to just leave my body in search of fun times.
Bad stuff. I will ease my way back into the workforce, just a couple of days a week, then try and squeak in a class or two.

Finally tired. Good night

month two

Just reread month one.
Still bad.

Except now her hair is fuzzy and she smiles during those rare moments when she's in a good mood. She also now grabs things occasionally, can hold her head up by herself for a good while, she likes to watch me dance, and she giggles sometimes. Mostly she giggles at her own reflection. She has also outgrown some of the newborn clothes and is already wearing some 3 month old things!

At least at this point she only cries when she has a reason to cry. They aren't all very good reasons to cry, ("hold me while bouncing or walking or I will scream! No you can't sit down!") but at least they can always be remedied and it's not just hours on end of screaming just because. So there's that I guess.

Bad, but not as bad. I guess I will keep her lol

The cold weather that everyone was so anxious for is ruining my life. We normally go on walks in the mornings around the nearby park. There is a senior rec center there so there's a little health trail thing with different exercise equipment to use. I will do a brisk lap or two with her, use the equipment do some wall push ups or some squats or basic yoga, you know things you can do while baby wearing. This is usually enough to give a little endorphin boost and keep me pretty cheery. Now it's just too cold. I would be OK in a hoodie and moving to get body heat but what about Dixie? The wind cuts right through those footie jammies. (Of course by the time I publish this the Floridian winter will probably be over)

I do yoga at home when I can but honestly when I'm here the mess makes me not really want to do anything. If I'm inspired enough to work out I'd rather just use that feeling to launch a good cleaning campaign.

There's something nobody touched on during my pregnancy.

Yes everyone says, "just let the house get messy while you take care of baby it's not a big deal"
that's fine advice for most but what about us small percentage of diagnosed OCD moms? I literally can not rest if my house is disgusting. I am embarrassed just looking at it. I think I would feel a lot better to be stuck in the house all day if it was clean. I clean a little bit everyday to keep it from looking like a total disaster but still, it's never at optimum clean anymore and that really irks me. I used to be known by my friends for having the cleanest apartments anyone our age would have. My favorite compliment was from a friend who said "you have the cleanest bathroom I have ever seen!" I think I smiled for that entire year off that.
Now when I'm in the bathroom there's hairs all over! People hair, cat hair! Everything needs a fine layer of chemical mist followed by a 2 hour scrubbing. Not to mention after the move and the baby Josh was laid off so I never got my bathroom organizer. There's nowhere to put deodorant, hairbrushes and dental supplies except right on the bathroom counter which looks terrible.


But luckily for me as long as I baby wear her I can pretty much do any sort of cleaning, except the really good chemical spraying kind.

Baby wearing has really been a godsend. I have the fussy bundle of hell kind of infant who screams at the top of her lungs if you are not holding her. Lugging around 11lbs all day can really put a damper on your spirits, not to mention keep your hands tied for the next ohhh....4 months. For reasons stated above I can't go handless for the next 4 months thus....baby wearing! Looks like baby is 2016's must-have accessory! I won't be caught dead without her on!

We have 3 carriers here. Two Infantino front carriers, one which I haven't used yet and one Moby Wrap. Let me share the pros and cons of each.

I'll start with the Moby Wrap.

Pros:

• First off, she loves it. When she was a teeny tiny newborn often times it was the only thing that helped her chill out. She sleeps really really well in it, I mean REALLY WELL and will sleep there for hours on end.
• It's toasty! With these cooler winter days it's helps to have a carrier that is essentially a giant blanket. Keeps both me and baby warm.
• Something about the tightness of the wrap and the give of the fabric makes it perfectly ergonomic for babies to snuggle into. She gets in that good fetal, frog-squat position and you don't have to worry about her posture or breathing.
• Last, it doesn't hurt my back with prolonged use.

Cons:

• It takes a minute to put on and it's kind of a pain in the ass. When baby is screaming like she's being eaten alive by ants, time is of the essence. It's not really a lot of fun to listen to that mess while making sailor knots around your body with a long piece of fabric. Then when you think you got it and you put the baby in, turns out it's sagging or twisted and now you have to take it off and do it all over again. Not to mention baby's cries have gone up 5 decibels due to being messed with yet again. That really sucks!
• There is no real head support. If you manage to put baby in at the perfect angle and baby is asleep with their head turned inward you can tuck their head into the side and now you're hands free. If baby is taking a minute to calm down, or if baby is wide awake and looking all around you lose 1 hand to keeping that big old potato head up. This kind of defeats the purpose of a carrier.
• It's toasty! Yes this was a pro, but I live in Florida so most days of the year it's actually a con!

Infantino Breathe

Pros:

• Super easy to put on and adjust. You got it on in seconds flat and baby is well on her merry way to shutting the hell up. :)
• Breezy! Only one small section of your stomach gets sweaty! A lot less than the Moby Wrap on a hot day.
• Anyone can do it. Moby Wrap takes practice. This is the thing to hand over to uncles and husbands when on the go.

Cons:

• Not comfy for baby! Baby just kind of dangles there and the super upright position makes Dixie gargle saliva in her sleep. She can sleep in it and she's ok but the noise is disconcerting. She tends to wake and stir more in this carrier than the Moby Wrap.
• Not comfy for mom! Prolonged use and my back is killing me. Like right now she is snoring away in it and I am deep breathing as a coping mechanism.

 Personally I prefer using the Moby Wrap if we're just chilling but when I want to exercise or get things done I go with Infantino. But lately I have been using the Infantino because I left the Moby Wrap in the car and I forget to take it out every single morning before Josh goes to work. ;-;

So there ya go. My second product review. If you recall I did one earlier on the Snoogle body pillow. That thing is so awesome!

So I guess to sum up month two I'd have to say I'm still not exactly having a super great time, but she gets better everyday. Everyday she shows more of her personality, she cries a little less, smiles and giggles a little more. She hangs out by herself without freaking out a little bit longer and we have more fun together.

I can't wait to see how next month will go!

The thing with cosmetology

 This entry doesn't have anything to with Dixie, beyond the fact that it's about careers and babies need money.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J: "Maybe I should work on computers"

K: "I don't know why you don't already. You're really good at it and you seemed to enjoy it"

I could say that to Joshua so easily yet here I am doing beautiful haircuts only for close friends and family because I let my license expire in 2013 and didn't feel like renewing it. Sometimes after doing a particularly great haircut I feel kind of guilty that here I am with a wonderful gift and I don't share it with anyone except my closest. Then when people stop them in the world and say "wow your hair looks great! Who did it?" They can only say "my friend" which translates into "someone you will never have access to because she is a grouchy recluse."

The reasons I didn't bother with renewing my license are numerous. Some more complex than others. The simplest being that at the time of the expiration it was very expensive to renew and I simply didn't have the money, but as of march 2015 the renewal price has been reduced by 20% and now may be reasonable. Besides, it takes money to make money and at this point I have spent more money on corsets that no longer fit. As a side note, as soon as they do fit I'm going back to waist training. 

The most complex reason I didn't try to get back into the business is that, despite my knack for it, the whole industry goes against my beliefs and is, in fact, in conflict with my very being.
Ok so you need a hair cut? Your hair is flopping all over, it's shaggy all in your eyes, hanging down your neck, making you hot and sweaty. It whips around in the wind and hits you in the face and it looks terrible unless you spend at least 20 minutes fighting it. Fighting like strangling with tight braids and elastics, impaling with bobby pins, and drowning in products. All in all, it has because a nuisance. Well for that I can and would love to help you.

You look in the mirror and just feel kind of blah. You feel like your name might as well be Ester. You feel as though your looks resemble a 50 year-old, librarian, mother of 6, but you actually are a vivacious 20 something year-old mother of 1 (or two or three, whatever, not 6.) You wanna do something fun with your hair to spice things up. Maybe shave the sides, maybe dye it purple. Whatever, I would love to!

Now....

your boyfriend dumped you and you want to become a new person by doing something drastic that you have never thought about before and you will seriously regret tomorrow all the while being hysterical and counting on a hairdresser to pretend to be your friend and care about your personal life. No.

You "NEED" to get your hair straightened and your nails done. No.

You sit around all day cramming cheetos in your mouth and watching celebrity gossip shows. When you're not doing that, you enjoy chain smoking marlboro 100's. You tell me you want a haircut that is slimming and makes you appear youthful and hot like Selena Gomez. No.

Your hair is breaking in the comb, like just ripping out in chunks. It's bleached platinum blonde and feels like straw. You tell me you want some more highlights because your boyfriend is getting out of jail. No.

You preface the haircut by saying that you've never liked any haircut you've ever gotten your entire life and you cry every single time because we all know that hair means everything, it will never grow back and it will be the end of you if it's not perfect. No.

You are a preteen girl who has dyed their hair with highlighters and kool-aid. Now you want me to bleach it white. No.

See this is what I mean.

I like normal people who view their hair as just hair and they want no nonsense cuts and colors. I don't like having to decode people who give requests like "you know shorter here, longer here, make this piece curl out like this, make me sideburns out of my hair because I don't have any sideburns."

I mean some people just... you know that's what it comes down to in these scenarios.

I don't like people and I don't like working with people.

Let me tell you a story.

I once cut Joshua's mother's hair. When I was done I thought it looked pretty good for wispy little old lady hair. A few days later he was talking to her on the phone and she said 

"Kristine is just no good as a hairdresser." 

"What do you mean mom? I thought you liked it?" 

"No honey, the haircut was beautiful but she doesn't know how to talk to people."

Now let that sink in.

That's what I mean when I say it's "in conflict with my very being."

Last time I saw a psychiatrist I was diagnosed with 3 things. Depression, OCD, and Social Anxiety. One, helps me make perfect haircuts, even if they take a long time, another makes me not want to show up for work, and the last makes it impossible to be a good hairdresser despite being able to cut hair really well. I know these are considered mental illnesses, but they are a part of me. Just as someone who is physically disabled would accept that their disability doesn't define them, but it's an undeniable part. A key aspect of a great hairdresser is in direct conflict with a part of who I am.
There's no way around that.

I know lately the media has been portraying socially awkward as "cute and funny" but when it's you and your life it can really cause problems and make normal tasks for functioning adults a real nerve wracking experience. In my case, it has caused my career to suffer. 

My conflict of belief is less of a hurdle, it just narrows down the choices for what type of establishment I'll want to work in.  

I don't believe looks are too important and really neither is hair so an upscale fancy pants salon is no place for me. I've already worked at one and a few days was all I could stand. 

I don't know squat about celebrities so I can't join in the salon gossip. I'm not exactly high fashion so often times I would be teased about the way I dress. Working there was probably some of the worst few days of my life. If you want a small example of what it feels like to be an off color girl in a high fashion workplace just watch the first few episodes of Ugly Betty. To top it off most high end salons charge out the ass for everything and their system of advancement is all based on product sales.
I'm a hairdresser, not a salesman. In all good conscience I won't convince someone to spend $50 on hair products they don't need. If I think one would legitimately be of service to you, sure I'll make a suggestion but I'm not pushing anything. It's just hair. There are more important things to spend $50 on, like electricity bills and food. That attitude keeps me at the bottom of the totem pole but that's how I honestly feel.

The beauty industry is a money making machine based off people's insecurities and low self esteem. You don't need anything to be beautiful, but if everyone found that out overnight all the high-end salons would be out of business. All the weave, all the dye, all the makeup, all the spray tans, all the nail polish and acrylics, gone.
I just want to help people look good without all the attitude and snake oil pushing.
Just good old fashioned haircuts.

The closest big name salon business model that nearly parallels my needs was great clips, but I quit via angry letter after having conflicts with management and, once again, not fitting in with the others. I also dislike the 15 minutes or less rule they have there. I mean, some people have a lot of thick hair and 15 minutes just wont cut it. Well it will cut it, but the result wont be that great and personally I don't like to half ass things. I should stick to booth rental or private business.

In conclusion, it is with some resignation that I will be renewing my license and going public.
So yenno, look for me.


I won't talk to you very much while I'm doing your hair, but you can always read my blogs if you want to know what's on my mind.

month one

Can't believe one month has already flown by and now I've taken so long to start on this entry that it's nearly been two months. I know a lot of mothers say things like "it's been too fast oh my god!" let me tell you no it wasn't. Dying of thirst while completely immobile under a sweaty baby, seconds have crawled like eons, sneaking by on tiptoes at witch's hour, your eyes bulge from your head as you choke back a cough that you just can't let escape; all lest you incur the man-cub's wrath. Something smells like poop, is it actually poop? Kicking and screaming, we take off the jammies. No poop just 1 million farts. Dixie turns to rigid wood as we attempt to put the jammies back on. Now thoroughly  enraged, there will be no sleep tonight.

I think we've been raised in a society that frowns upon candid honesty. No one wants to be the monster who says "man I hate this whole baby thing" but I can guarantee there isn't a person alive who actually enjoys being yelled at for no apparent reason for 9 hours straight. I will be that monster. I do not like this whole baby phase. Make no mistake, this doesn't mean that I hate her or wish I never had her, actually I really love her a lot she means everything to me but I don't like not being able to soothe her when she's mad, I don't like having to hold her all day long or else she is mad, and I don't like that she wakes up from naps screaming at 100%. I love when she smiles. I love when she coos and I love watching her play. I love when her big dark eyes meet mine and she lays her little hands upon my chest. I love when we play in the morning and her eyes widen and arms flail. The thing is because she is so young all those sweet quiet moments account for 15% of the time and the rest is outright screaming or trying my best to keep her from screaming, like constantly walking on eggshells. I know it's just a phase, and it's this phase that I hate, not her. I will be honest with everyone, make the distinction clear, and say that. I have pretty much already decided I will probably get my tubes tied in the future as I now know that I do not like babies.

Now I can understand those who do say "oh I miss that! It was so fast!" They aren't psychos, but if they had my baby, they would be. All babies cry, but some cry more than others. Some babies are little dolls, quiet sleepy, you set em down wherever and they are content to kick it by themselves. Dixie is a volatile substance, on the verge of explosion every minute of everyday. Thank god for baby wearing because most days I am literally unable to put her down. I've actually developed tendinitis in my left hand from having to hold her all day. My mom tells me that's how I was as a baby so I suppose this is divine justice. Now that she is over a month old she plays by herself for small, but increasing amounts of time. This time is aggravating, but also precious and thankfully fleeting.

I know this can be hard to believe for some of you because every time I take her to someone's house she's a sleepy angel. That's part of the trick. To make everyone believe she is always so nice. Liar baby, putting up fronts before her friends.

Ok but she's not all bad though. She spends a little more time playing by herself everyday. I've even been able to put her in her bassinet semi-awake now and she can fall asleep on her own, sometimes. She's still prone to start screaming if put down too soon, but that too is getting better. She used to hate baths and scream like we were beating her the entire time, she actually really enjoys them and that's always a really fun time now. As crazy as she's been, there's really nothing she can do but get better. She really is sweet and has a lot of adorable moments as well but I guess at the time I'm writing this blog it really just seems like the angry outnumbers the happy, but this is week 7 and according to every shred of parental literature this is the hardest time so we just have to hang tight.

This entry seems really back and forth as I reread it. The reason for this is because I wrote it over the course of several days. One night she will be a demon and the next morning I'm angrily sitting here like "Man I'm tired on an astral level. Dumb old baby what's her problem? Getting on mah nerves. She need to stop all this bullshit." *squinty accusational glare towards baby* *angry typing* "haha yeah what a little turd!"
But then the next day I reread this while she is quietly hugging my chest, gazing up at me with the sweetest of looks, after making happy noises and playing with her toys and I'm like "omg I don't mean any of this. Why would I say that about my sweet baby? This is horrible and untrue. nooooo." *apologetic frown* *remorseful typing* "awww I never meant any of that!"
So now you know. It's back and forth because that's how it is. That's how she is.

So in summation of this entry: anyone who says it's all roses is a damned liar and they are going to straight to baby hell for that.

Baby hell is like regular hell except I imagine there are inconsolable babies there.

Maybe I am in baby hell.

Meeting Dixie and the First Few Weeks

After reading and rereading my last blog and noticing various typos and areas that could've been improved, I also noticed I left something out that I'm sure a lot of people were wondering about. How did you feel when you first held her? I didn't include that because honestly the entire entry is just the retelling of what happened, to answer how I felt at such a monumental moment actually requires some pretty deep thought, not just recollection. However now at 6:44 AM with coffee at hand I think I might just be able to describe it, or get close enough.

When they first put her in my arms I felt a mixture of wonder, apprehension, heart break, love, and pure dread. Wonder because I had never made anything so perfect before. At the moment she was flawless; small, contained, and perfect in every way. Looking at her felt like I could've been gazing over a canyon, or feeling very small in a boat speeding over the ocean. Both of which also come with feelings of apprehension. Apprehension because, I've waited nine months, what now? I've read the books, surfed the websites, talked with moms and midwives, watched other women care for children out in the world and now suddenly I am completely unsure how to go about anything. Here is a little thing bawling in my arms and I have no means to make it stop except stick my boob in it's mouth, which is extremely effective! She latches on perfectly about the 3rd try or so and all goes quiet. Then my heart breaks because that was a small sample of a noise I will be hearing numerous times and I already know I won't be able to fix it every single time. My heart breaks because her heart will break. I already imagine every hardship she will face just as every girl has: bullies, snotty girls, lying boys, self-esteem issues, social anxiety, and worst of all grief. But as she's nursing she looks up at me with her big, dark eyes shining like black marbles and heartbreak is replaced with love. Despite what may happen in the future, right now all she knows is that she was hungry and she loves me. And I love her. With love comes dread because I love her so much I'm afraid to fail her. I'm afraid that I will be unsure, won't be able to step up, will fall short of the things she needs but just as it was introduced by love, my dread is quelled by love. Because I love her, I will never fail.

Since I had a c-section I ended up staying 3 days in the hospital, and nearly more. Every time I've visited someone staying at the hospital, for some reason, it always seemed kind of fun to stay (having never stayed myself). I mean you don't have to do anything, you get food brought to you, you can watch TV all day, chances are your room is pretty high up so you get to see killer sunrises, not to mention you're probably being fed painkillers. So what's not to like? Turns out a lot.
Turns out not doing anything makes me stir-crazy and restless, turns out that the hospital beds feel like napping mats on top of rocks, turns out that the food is decent at best, turns out that there's still never anything worth watching on TV, turns out that you don't give a crap about sunrises because your back and butt hurt from being in the dang bed all day, and it turns out that nurses and janitors and food service come in and out all hours of the day any night so you never get any dang privacy.
So in short, what I thought what might be kind of fun and relaxing was pretty boring and horrible. Not to mention the fact that my room was pretty small and with all the people filing in and the table on wheels, the big chair, and the clear box for the baby to sleep in the space was very cramped and no matter how many times I limped around trying to tidy up, it always appeared cluttered simply because there was nowhere to put anything. Yes, I was dying to leave with our new baby.

 Out of all the bad though I gotta say that the staff was really nice and I enjoyed going on my shuffling little walks around the mother and baby unit. The food was actually OK for hospital stuff, I only had one meal that looked like vomit, smelled like vomit, tasted like vomit and probably was vomit.

Once we did get home things were pretty stressful. Not because of Dixie but because I had just barely been cleared to go home but I had really high blood pressure and had to monitor it constantly. If it stayed as high as it was I was heading right back into the hospital. I just really really didn't want to go back. Anyhow it caused all kinds of worry but ended up being ok.

The first few weeks weren't really too bad. Kind of funny because I wanted a natural and drug free birth but I ended up getting a c-section and staying zooted on percocets for the first 2 weeks of her life. Ain't that the way it goes sometimes? As I think most babies do (and if they don't, I don't want to know) she was either sleeping, nursing, or crying until well.....this week.

Now she is a little over a month and little fun things have started happening that make it all worthwhile. She smiles now, makes happy noises, and enjoys playing with toys. She hit 1 month and suddenly began to notice her environment. I guess it all gets better from here.

Thank god that 1rst month is over!
I'll be stoked when the third gets here and she starts doing things like laughing and social smiling, but I'm sure part of me will be a little sad that my tiny little squeaky is already not so tiny.