Bored mama

Baby's name?
Mason David

Birthday?
May 25th, 2008

Time?
9:04 pm

Weight at birth?
7lbs even

Weight now?
16lbs, 11 oz! Whoa, chunker! :)

Length at birth?
20 inches

Length now?
23 1/2 inches

Was your baby early or late?
Two weeks early.

How much weight did you gain?
63 pounds. It was ridiculous.

How much of it have you lost?
Not enough. Only 50 pounds.

How was labor?
Long, painful, and exhausting.

What's the best thing about being a mommy?
Hearing his cute little baby noises, seeing him smile and laugh, and knowing that he's brand new with so much ahead of him and so much potential.

What's the worst thing about being a mommy?
Finding poop under my fingernails.

What's the hardest part?
The nights. And getting ready to go ANYWHERE.

What are a few things you've learned so far that you didn't know before?
How to do everything with one hand, how to get poop out of the carpet, and that 9 times out of 10 as soon as I put something hot in the vacinity of my mouth he will cry.

Does your baby sleep well?
Sometimes. At first, not at all. Now, he has his good moments... but there are still nights where I feel delirious from lack of sleep. People tell you how hard the nights are going to be and you know it's true but you can't really understand how true it is.

What have you done that you swore you never would?
Breastfeed in a restaurant. At the table. While I was ordering.

What do you worry about?
Pretty much everything: SIDS, paying for college, how he'll feel when a girl breaks his heart someday, and the fact that there may not be forests/beaches/polar icecaps/various forms of wildlife for him to experience when he grows up.

Do you miss being pregnant?
In a word... no. Everyone said I would, and they were all wrong.

How many more kids do you want?
Maybe one more.. maybe two, I don't know. I'm starting to think I'd be okay with Mason being an only child though.

And finally if your baby could talk, what would he/she say?
"Vote Obama"?

First traumatic event - check

Mason's two month checkup was today.. I've seriously been dreading it all week. All I could think about were those big needles they were going to stick into my precious baby's chubby thighs. I dreamt about it last night. I couldn't sleep. I was up more than Mason.

Every time I looked at him this morning, I was close to tears. He was so happy and I was about to ruin his day in a bad way. The little cut I put on his finger with the nail clippers was nothing compared to what was about to happen. All week I was saying, "I'm not going in the room with him, I can't watch that happen" but I went in anyway. No way was I letting him think that I'd abandon him like that... especially just because I'm the biggest baby ever. I felt like he had to know I was there for him. So I went in.

Mason loved the doctor. He was smiling at her while she weighed, measured, and poked at him. My chubby little guy is 23 1/2 inches long and weighs 16lbs 11oz! Huge. She said he held his head up like a four month old. If I wasn't so terrified of what was about to happen I would have been so proud of my little guy. But I knew. I felt bad for him because he liked her and he had no idea what she was about to do to him. He didn't know and it wasn't fair.

She explained the shots and I teared up. I calmed down, she left, the nurse came in and I teared up again. George held Mason's little hands down and I sat in the corner, staring at the wall. I couldn't watch. I heard nothing and then I heard the loudest most painful baby scream I've ever heard. When I picked him up, his little face looked so sad and so scared. He cried, but only for a minute. I cried too. It hurt... really bad.

Worst Mommy Ever

I never remember to cut Mason's nails until I see a scratch on his face. This morning, he had a little scratch by his eye, so I made a mental note to cut his nails when I got a chance. He woke up in the best of moods this morning, laughing at the good morning song I sing to him and smiling at the animals on his play mat. I knew I needed to get to his nails while he was in a good mood. If you've never cut a baby's nails before, let me tell you how not easy it is. First of all, they're tiny. Super tiny. Second, they're paper thin and really bendy.

So fast forward to about twenty minutes ago. I had just changed him and he let me get the boogers out of his nose without protest, so I knew it was now or never. I get out my tiny little nail clippers with the tiny little magnifying thing on them and start cutting. One.. two.. three.. one hand done, without a peep from Mason. He's happily kicking his feet and laughing at nothing. Six.. seven... Seven. On nail number seven he stops laughing, pulls his hand away, and lets out a scream. I grab the hand back, pry open his tiny fist and there's a drop of blood. Real blood. And my baby was crying real tears.

His first injury ever, and it was my fault. He's in his swing now, napping, but his little fists are all clenched up and his lip is pouty, and I'm pretty sure he's mad at me.

61 days later...

Yes, it's completely true. Yesterday, Mason turned two months old. To the surprise of absolutely no one, Mommy spent the day taking pictures. Here's my little guy with his big blue eyes and super neck muscles:

He can't roll over yet, but he sure can fly:

Looking a little mad, but I just wanted to show that I do put clothes on my kid every once in awhile. Hey, it's hot out, and clearly he hates it:

And finally, his bath:


To celebrate his two month birthday, Mason decided to do the unthinkable. Yes, the best baby ever, who got nothing from his mama but clean diapers and a really off-key rendition of the Happy Birthday song, gave me two of the best presents I could have asked for: he didn't poop on the carpet, and he slept for 6.5 STRAIGHT HOURS.

See why I love him?

This shit isn't funny

By 10 o'clock this morning I had already changed Mason's outfit three times, on account of him pooping up his back. I don't know what it is, but he has this thing with not wanting to poop in his diaper. Maybe this means early potty training. Hey, I can hope.

Anyway, the third time he did it, he laughed at me.

Seriously, we were both covered in poop and he thought it was the funniest thing ever.

Turn and face the strange...

George is giving Mason a bottle on the couch and I'm typing with two hands. It's one of the few times in the past two months that I don't have a baby attached to me. If I had my camera on me right now I'd take a picture of what's going on over there. Mason with the bottle in his mouth, milk running down his chin. Totally normal... he's not that good with the bottle. What's not normal is that now he's looking at me out of the corner of his eye, watching me, probably wondering why this hard plastic thing is in his mouth and how he's eating when he's not with Mommy. At least that's what I think he's thinking. In any case, he won't stop peeking over his shoulder at me.

I've seen so many changes in him lately. For one, he's huge. This is him and his girlfriend, Madelynn:

Madelynn is three weeks older than my little baby. I won't find out how much he weighs until his appointment next week, but everywhere we go people are telling me how 'healthy' he looks or saying 'my god, what do you feed him?!' (The great advice and helpful comments moms get from strangers don't end after pregnancy.) Yes, he's getting big, and it's sad. I can't picture him as a 7 pound newborn baby anymore. Before I know it he'll be off to Harvard or off repairing the ozone layer or finding the cure for cancer or landing his spaceship on Mars.


He's developing his own little personality too. He's not just either eating or sleeping anymore. He's on his play mat or in his swing. I show him his reflection in the mirror he's amazed at the people in there that look just like him and Mommy. He loves the music that his mobile plays and he's smiling all the time. We were at the Olive Garden picnic the other day and he was smiling and happy (until he got hot and cranky and tired) while everyone held him... and I wasn't even upset. I can finally hand him over to someone and know that he won't forget about me. Finally. And now he's watching me out of the corner of his eye because he wants to make sure I'm still here. I hope he knows I'm not going anywhere.

Time well spent

Yesterday, I left Mason for four hours. FOUR hours. And, really, I needed it. I needed to have real conversations with people my age and get some sun and have a beer. God, I needed a beer.

So I ended up downtown at Arts Fest and on the deck at Champs drinking the most delicious Blue Moon ever poured. I went to the mall and bought a few things for myself and I didn't even feel (that) guilty. I didn't even PEEK in the general direction of Gymboree or Baby Gap. For those four hours, I was completely baby free.

And all I could think about was Mason.

The thing is, sometimes I get frustrated with how he clings to me. I swear he wants me to hold him twenty out of twenty four hours a day. But when I got home yesterday, I didn't want to put him down. I guess I needed to get out by myself more than I thought I did.

So maybe in 18 years I'll be able to do things like eat a hot dinner, have a pair of clean white pants, or poop with the bathroom door shut.

I can wait.

Happy 4th!

Mason took his first overnight trip out of town for the fourth. We stayed at my dad's and had a cookout and fireworks. There were a ton of people there, and nothing has ever been more terrifying than seeing Mason being passed around all day.. all those dirty hands, kids with sparklers standing dangerously close, Mason dangling above the concrete, smoke from the fire blowing in his face... I didn't even know where he was half the time. I was pretty sure I was going to have a panic attack.


But then I got to sit down and eat. While the food was still hot.

What a great weekend.