Monday, April 24, 2006

I guess I WAS made for these times.

I am just not cut out to be a single mom or a stay at home mom. I can’t handle it. I need a break. Not a long one. And I don’t even need to get away. I just need to have someone else be in charge of the boy for a while. This weekend was hard on me. Mr. b was in the recording studio all day Saturday and all day Sunday. Sure he was home Sunday morning, but by the end of the night, the effect of his assistance had waned. It’s especially hard for me in the evening. I need time to wind down on my own. I need to make food for my own damn self. I’ve already spent all day playing and going for walks and feeding and caring and naps and diaper changes and bottles and everything and I need a break.

Of course it didn’t help that Kirk was out of sorts much of the weekend, starting Friday. My sister reported that he had been quite crabby that day and sure enough, he was quite crabby for us at home. No matter, he went to bed before my dad even got there to watch him while I was at Mr. b’s gig. But before I left to see Mercurial Rage play, Kirk woke up. My dad was naturally excited to get to see his grandson even though he was being naughty by being up past his bedtime, after having gone to bed already. When I got home from the gig I found out that Crankenstein had stayed up crabbing and crying until 11pm. Teeth? Insomnia? Fucking with Grandpa? Who knows. But my dad finally got to see what a bad bedtime is like. We had previously just smiled and nodded when he would remark that Kirk never fusses up a storm. He finally got to experience the little guy’s not so little temper. Which he gets from the paternal line. Definitely.

But it’s not to say that Kirk was a pain in my ass all weekend. He was adorable at book club on Saturday. And he was alternately a cute bully and a sweetheart while playing with la’s adorable daughter on Sunday. But I’m still just exhausted. I’m burnt out from being the sole caregiver. My hat’s off to all those parents that stay home all day every day. And to those that don’t have someone else to give them a hand. I couldn’t do it.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Bus Stop Baby

I’m 0 for 2 for normal mornings this week. Kirk had his first ride on the city bus.

Whenever Mr. b meets me at work on his bike, it’s my key in the car ignition as I’m the one that unparks it. I’ll grab my key back from him when we walk in to my sister’s place to pick up the boy and that’s that. But yesterday afternoon we had to go out to the government center where she was picking up her marriage license. So everything was weird and I never got my key back.

This morning Mr. b called me at about 6:30am to say that he had my car key still. Hooboy. Before we had a kid that wouldn’t be an issue. But now? So I started brainstorming. What time does Shogunmoon go to work? Would he be a willing courier for us? Maybe I could take the bus with the boy to Mr. b’s café and then bus back home with the key and then drive back to the café to fetch the boy. Or we could just wait until the next person comes on shift and hope they’re not such a moron that Mr. b couldn’t just leave them behind the counter for an hour while he rides back home and then we drop him off. But Mr. b’s idea was better. So I took the bus to work with Kirk and my sister picked him up here after A1 got on her school bus.

My sister was worried that the bus wouldn’t be safe for a baby. Feh. There’re kids on there all the time. Kirk really liked the bus. There was lots of good people watching! He didn’t even fall asleep until we were on the south side of downtown and there were far fewer riders to distract him. And then he was the star in the office! He got passed around from adoring lady to adoring lady and cooed at and just generally treated like a total rock star.

Thursday is slated to be weird again because my sister has a doctor’s appointment that morning. I’m still not sure what our Plan B will be. Hopefully tomorrow and Friday will be normal at least!

Monday, April 17, 2006


I’ve seen some freaky ass shit on the highways around town, from burning cars to 480˚ spinouts to my (not a cop) dad directing traffic on an icy on-ramp. But I’m just now coming down from the adrenaline high of the supreme weirdness I saw on my way to drop Kirk off at my sister’s house this morning. I was driving west on Highway 7, between Louisiana and Texas. There’s that slight hill before you get to the Texas light. I was almost at the crest of the hill when suddenly, a red SUV started coming over the 5 foot tall concrete barrier separating oncoming traffic! What the fuck?!? I swerved, and thankfully there was no one in the right lane or I would have hit someone. I was just tripping out. How do you drive up a vertical barrier? My brain just can’t wrap around the Newtonian physics of such a sight. Waiting to turn left at the next light, I could see traffic piling up in my rear-view. I heard the sirens on the way as I pulled Kirk out of the car in my sister’s parking lot.

I thought maybe the SUV got rear-ended in order to have enough force to get up the barrier. My sister’s theory is that the SUV could have ridden on top of a smaller vehicle for that lift. When I called Mr. b he figured that the small amount of slanted footing at the base of the barrier would be enough for a vehicle to ride up to the top. I’m sure I’ll never really know. Normally you can only see the tops of cars on the other side of it. Not their front wheels coming at you. But if there hadn’t been the wall? I would have been hit front-on. At high speeds.

So I just sat at my sister’s house for 20 minutes or so before taking an alternate route to work. I needed to hug and kiss Kirk. Cuddle him. Calm myself down from the adrenaline shakes. I felt bad because I was threatening to change his name to Cranky Mr. Crabby Pants this morning. I love him so much.

Thursday, April 13, 2006


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Late on Tuesday night we were awakened by a horrible choking noise. Both Mr. b and I bolted, thinking something was wrong with the baby. My sleep addled brain thought Kirk was on the floor next to my side of the bed, since that’s where the noise was coming from. Turns out it was the cat, beginning her process of horking up a hairball.

So we’re not the worst parents in the world. We are mindful of our child’s safety. Yet his current favorite toy? A very long green ribbon. Total strangulation hazard. But he loves chewing on it and swinging an end around and sucking his fingers through it. We never let him play with the ribbon unsupervised. Though we do call it the Poison Ribbon because when Kirk first started putting it in his mouth, Mr. b was worried that it was toxic. Since the ribbon had originally been wrapped around a giant stuffed dog his aunt bought for Kirk I pointed out that, “She didn’t get it from the Poison Ribbon Manufacturers of America.”

Yet Kirk is definitely entering the getting-knocked-about stage. An hour before going to his 9 month check up he pulled the Playstation down on top of his head. Left a nice mark for Doc to notice. And Monday night I had him in his walker out in front of the house. He was having a great time running around on the concrete but kept backing up until his rear wheels were stuck in the soft dirt of the hastas bed. I would free him and he’d be off again. Then he managed to get both right wheels into the dirt and over he tipped. It was total slow motion and I couldn’t get there in time to stop him. Of course he didn’t start crying when I set him back upright. No, he started wailing as soon as Mr. b tried wiping the dirt off his face. That boy hates having his face cleaned.

Monday, April 10, 2006


Last night I switched my nose ring. I’d been thinking of doing it for a while now. Kirk had been grabbing at the hoop lately. He’s been very interested in jewelry, grabbing at necklaces and my watch and Mr. b’s earrings and my earrings and whatnot. So switching to something smaller was definitely a factor. Now I’m wearing a tiny 6-petal flower stud. Well, not a stud in the Mall sense, it’s an Indian one so it’s coiled. I also have a little carnelian, but that looks like a zit when I wear it. I think I want to get something with a bit of bling, but I don’t know if the Indian dress shops around town have that good of a selection. I had planned on shopping around before switching but decided to just get it over with. It still feels strange. I had been wearing the same hoop in my nose since 1992. Sure, I changed it for my brother’s wedding and a few other occasions, but still, that’s a long time. I was used to that particular shape in my periphery. But it was time. I’ve been feeling it for a while and I just had to admit it to myself. I want to climb the corporate ladder so that Mr. b can be a stay-at-home-dad. And while I don’t have to give up the piercing itself to do so, it frankly is more professional to have it be smaller.

I’m also thinking of changing this blog’s name. I’m not knocked up anymore. And I’ve noticed that on a couple of my male friend’s blogs, they are linked to me by “belsum” and not “Knocked Up”, so I wonder if that’s too girly of a title? Heh. But really, it just isn’t quite accurate. And I’m also considering lightening up on my self-imposed rule of only writing about baby and preggo and parenting stuff here. I had been putting all other random thoughts on MySpace but, as Jon so eloquently pointed out already, that site kinda sucks. And it’s not like I haven’t been loosely tying in non-reproductive topics already. I don’t know. Bueller?

Friday, April 07, 2006

9 Month Well Baby

Kirk had his check up today. Both Mr. b and I were very pleased to see that Kirk's weight and height percentiles switched. Last visit he was in the 50% for height and above the 70% for weight. Now he's in the 50% for weight and the 70% for height. Doc said his weight percent might go down even more next time since he'll continue to burn more calories as he begins to crawl and/or walk. As usual, she was very calming and reassuring. She laughed while watching Kirk flap his arms the way he does constantly these days. She wasn't in the least worried that he's currently too lazy to crawl and would rather just flip over on his right side since he's good at that direction so it's the easy way out.

Doc was also glad that we're starting to give Kirk so many regular foods for him to self-feed. She laughed and laughed about him eating a pickle (great suggestion, thinga!) and said that it's just fine to be letting him try what we're having. She also said he could have oranges, though orange juice is out, and strawberry flavored foods, but fresh strawberries are out. I'm not sure why. The other main allergy paranoia foods--honey, nuts, eggs--we're supposed to wait until he's one year. One year is also when we start the switch off formula and move to whole milk.

It's like Kirk is in a transition period right now. He's not yet a little kid because he isn't walking. But he's not really a baby either because he's sitting up and doing so much on his own. I find it very interesting. Mr. b is bemoaning the loss of his little baby. I guess I should start the count down to when he starts begging for me to get pregnant again.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Red Carpet Preggos

I’ve been trying to avoid the horrible Britney birth statue thing because I hate her so much anyways and it’s just…but then I read the Go Fug Yourself take on it and yes. That’s it. It’s not even accurate! She had a fuckin’ C-Section! An elective C-Section! And here’s the thing, I am so fed up with celebrity pregnancies. Do these people even care about the lives they are creating? Do they understand that these little publicity stunts will become whole people that will need love and attention? Or does that not matter when you have nannies to raise your children and chefs to cook your post-partum diet foods and personal trainers to help you loose the 5 and a half pounds you allowed yourself to gain? (Sure, Diablo’s girlfriend Kate Hudson said fuck it and gained as much weight as she fuckin’ felt like it when she was up the spout, which was awesome, but she still had wealthy person assistance to loose it all.) I don’t understand it. It’s not like half of these women even conceived naturally. Yeah, you had twins by accident. Sure you got knocked up “accidentally” with your first child in your mid-forties. We believe you. And now the insipid TomKat silent birth is upon us and I can’t escape the horror of that whole scenario. I’m not so jaded as some to still believe that she’s just wearing a belly prosthetic but I also fear for that poor child. Next will come the Brangelina baby—and I like them as a couple but the over-exposure is already painful. And there’s the whole Jessica-wants-to-adopt-an-entire-country-and-then-get-immaculately-concepted thing brewing. I guess that’s why I was so happy to hear about Heath and Michelle during Oscar season. They just seemed like real people. I could relate to their emotions and decisions. They were genuinely excited about being parents. They were truly in love with their beautiful little girl. They denied help from their families because they wanted to spend time with their own new family. They were in love with each other even more so after seeing their amazing creation. And Michelle was so matter of fact about the labor and delivery process, talking about how trusting it is to be naked and pooping and in pain and still be supported and loved by your man. It was the most honesty I’ve ever sensed from “Hollywood types” and it was magnificent.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Dinner Party

We had Kirk out at a friend's house past his bedtime tonight. It was the first time since he was a really little guy and just slept in his car seat all the time. It worked out surprisingly well. He was only fussy when we were all eating dinner and not paying attention to him! But the rest of the evening he played toys, ate his supper, got into jammies, had a bottle, and fell asleep on the couch. We could have stayed out even longer! He woke up as we were leaving but fell back asleep in the car and again when he was being transferred into his crib at home. We had been apprehensive about being gone anywhere during nigh-nigh time because he does so much better when he's following his usual schedule. But it seems that he's old enough now that we can just transfer that schedule over to another location. I know I sure as hell fell asleep at all my parent's friend's houses when I was a kid. It's part of growing up. And that's what the Pack n Play is for.