Who was it who said, “It’s five o’clock SOMEWHERE”? Blackbird, dear, was it you? Because if ever I needed that sentiment, today was one of those days.
The Remora cries – a lot. Colicky-a-lot.
[Side note: I am developing this theory that a baby’s labor and birth is indicative of traits that will emerge later in the child; it fits my boys fairly well. My high-maintenance man, Primo, was a finicky, fiddly, endless, and painful labor: induction, hallucinations, epidural not working, the works. Seg’s was dogged and steady, just like him: my reliable, to-be-counted-upon boy. Terzo was what I call a drive-by, and so is he: easy-going and relaxed. Unfortunately Quarto’s labor was a repeat of Primo’s, complicated by some medical issues, the perfect storm of labor and delivery, only culminating in, thank God, a healthy baby. A cranky, colicky, screaming baby, but healthy. Any other moms care to weigh in here on this theory? I think it’s got legs.]
My brother was here this weekend so I am recovering from the orgy of eating that always occurs, because I have NO self control. I swear I could feel my thighs and butt growing by the minute (even though I went for my first run in ten months on Tuesday). Does fat itch?
I cracked a molar on one of those ridiculous cinnamon candies I am addicted to and the dentist can’t fit me in till next Thursday – since I am not in any pain and therefore it’s not an emergency. There’s a substantial chunk of my tooth gone missing, and I can eyeball the silver filling inside, but it’s not an emergency.
I am yearning to vacuum my filthy floors, I have a dissertation to wrap up tomorrow morning, I can't seem to finish a novel, and I need a shower desperately.
[On the other hand, Seg spent the morning with a friend so the two youngest and I strolled outside in the sunshine with Terzo’s new Easter-egg-shaped chalk, leaving colorful trails of flowers, smiley faces, Penguins logos, and other artwork throughout the neighborhood, in a path leading to the coffee shop and the most delicious brownie I have ever eaten (shared with a most delicious two-year-old), accompanied by a nice steamy latte for me and hot chocolate for him (with TWO helpings of whipped cream). Then after school I took all four boys plus one of Primo’s friends to the park where they ran wild for two hours, The Remora slept in his carseat, and I stood around and chatted with my mommy friends, all of whom had had the same idea. Also, H and I have hockey tix for tomorrow night. Also also, my new Nigella book (How to Eat) came in the mail today, along with the newest Mary Doria Russell novel. So. Life is not all bad. It just makes for more interesting copy...]
*********
Bonus round: Reason number 16,346 why I can’t be bothered to watch TV anymore - “Jon & Kate + Eight.”
Are these people for real? Tonight’s episode featured the pancake breakfast and potty training, complete with photos of the kids with their poop. Please. I am as inured to poop talk as the next mom, but honestly, why? The parents are beyond annoying, and the kids weren’t much better although one can hope they’ll at least grow out of it. Oy.
I turned off the TV, propped The Remora on my chest, and attacked the latest round of Scrabulous instead. Now I am off to bed with Devil in the White City.
************
* Luis Bunuel
10 comments:
Yes, fat itches.
I don't know about your theory. My easiest labor produced my most contrary child, but she can usually be talked out of it, so that's something.
My most colicky, fussy baby is a joy, so there's hope!
I'm too tired to think about each labour and each child's personality, so I'm just going to agree with you because it sounds good.
If it is of any consolation - I found Grover in those early months to be needy, hard to settle, hard to sleep, awake and constantly feeding. There was the occasional colicky outbreak but not a patch on Felix. Anyway, I was taking to describing him as high maintenance and intense and then I realised I was giving him a bit of a bum deal - it was actually just the scale of the operation that was high maintenance and intense, not really him. I know because he still wakes at midnight and 4 am but is easy to settle (with a boob or bottle) but it is still just as hard as in those early months.
Four dude, what can I say.
But the afternoon at the park? I was doing that and my goodness did it take the edge of everything. Keep that up - it involves less calories than sitting at home drinking while they kill each other .
I think I did say "it's five o'clock somewhere." Though, bear in mind that it is NOON somewhere too - and some days are just that bad.
I had A DAY yesterday, but today seems a bit better. Whew.
The theory sounds good but with my kids works in reverse -- my son was a somewhat difficult labor; he was an easy kid. My daughter was practically born on the way to the hospital -- I got there, got undressed and had the baby all within 45 minutes -- she, however, can be very very difficult. She's never listened and she refused to take naps and often didn't sleep at night.
Hm, I will be interested to put your labor theory to the test in August when I produce our firstborn.
Re. Jon & Kate -- heh. I had the same reaction and I think I saw the same episode. It also seems to me that Jon and Kate might secretly hate each other.
6 babies x 6 poopy diapers a day (minimum) x 365 days x 3 years
Do the math I would memorialize poop on the potty too!
Is that Scrabulus thing the Scrabble game you and I started on facebook? Cos I can't for the life of me find how to get back to it and have my next turn.
Signed, your technically dyslexic pal,
Suse.
x
ps. I miss you.
I hope you are getting some restful sleep right now. My fingers are crossed for you.
My guy was colicky and fussy, but it turned out to be food intolerance related.
Oh the joys of a newborn. And did you ever post a labor story? I don't remember reading one.
suse, click on the scrabulous link, and then "your games"
i love you anyway, my tech challenged friend : )
caro - i never posted a story...should i? hmmm....
Post a Comment