I can haz crotchfruit? Apparently, yes. It wasn't easy getting preggers, but after 20 months and several thousand dollars, CV and I finally managed it (thanks, Modern Technology!). The result is the insanely cute bouncing Baby R:
Mmm... this DNA cocktail is pretty tasty, if I do say so myself. Those cheeks! So nommable! Nom, nom, nom...
Needless to say, I'm totally smitten. And because he's 10 weeks old, it's also needless to say that I am totally sleep-deprived, and every day is pretty much a rollercoaster. This kid is hungry every 2 hours or less, swear to Dog. Maaaaybe 3 hours at night. I have the feeling that I'm trapped in the house with a ticking time bomb; I spend every moment wondering when he's going to want to eat next. I plan each trip out of the house around the possibility that this could be one of those days where he wants to eat basically constantly. For better or worse, this kid is so in love with the boob that it's a major struggle to get him to eat from a bottle, so it's not worth it to try unless absolutely necessary. So I have to be prepared to whip out a boob at a moment's notice, no matter where I am. I find myself mentally mapping out places between my home and my destination where I could conceivably duck in and nurse him if he explodes on the way there or back (for a trip to the grocery store, there's the library and Shoppers Drug Mart).
I figured I should be a Mommy Who Blogs. Why not? My trials and tribulations probably can't be any more or less entertaining than anyone else's, so what the heck?
Hmm... what to blog, what to blog... Oh, here's something weird. On Wednesday I went to the dentist, and I showed a picture of Baby R to the receptionist and a couple of hygienists who were standing nearby. I know the receptionist from years of being a client, but I don't know these hygienists. Anyway, one of them asked how old Baby R was. I replied that he was 10 weeks. They all started exclaiming about how great I looked, and they couldn't believe it, etc. Then one of the hygienists stepped up to me and patted my belly! WTF? I managed to go my whole pregnancy without having my belly rubbed by a stranger, and they're doing it now? Hellz naw.
Well! I'm still recovering from the trauma of having my non-pg belly rubbed by a stranger. Ye godz.
The time bomb has been dormant on the couch next to me, but it's twitching now. How much time do I have? It has been a whole hour and 45 minutes since he last ate... I give it 15 more minutes.
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