Back from Grandmas

I spent a lot of time fretting over what to do if Sam decided not to be happy on the plane. I had toys, pacifiers and a carefully chosen song repertoire. Luckily, none of it was needed. In his standard form of “showing off for strangers” he slept the entire time. Yes, lady sitting behind me, I do have the most marvelous baby! Of course she didn’t know about the poop explosion 20 minutes before boarding (um, NO CHANGING TABLES in the airport bathroom? Do they want poopy babies on the plane?). And the scream fest on the drive home from the airport (he woke up in the carseat and was starving). My father probably didn’t realize Old McDonald had owls on his farm, but when you run out of barnyard animals you have to improvise.

The trip was great. Grandma and Grandpa had lots of quality time with Sam…especially Grandma. I took complete advantage…eating when I want, going to the bathroom when I want, and even showering on a whim! Heaven.

I even got to go hang out and have lunch with Mrs. T and Pdiddy the day after the shower. And I had a Margarita! Which made me tipsy…. The shower was beautiful, by the way. Mrs. T got loads of stuff. The next day I got the see the nursery and the drawers of already acquired and hand-me-down baby clothes. I don’t think she’ll ever have to do laundry. And if they decide to just have one, she can put the girl through college reselling all the stuff on ebay.

It was so great to see my girls. It always makes me happy, but then it makes me sad. Everyone seems so far away. Luckily Mrs. T lives near my folks, so there is always a trip in the future, but Pdiddy is on the other side of the country. But Sam got some precious time with Auntie P...



and his first photo with his betrothed...she's currrently in utero. Oh, and Aunt Jess (aka Mrs. T...or should I say Mama T).


Yes, I plan to push Sam towards the new little angel to be born this April. Which, of course, will garauntee that they want nothing to do with one another. Sam met another prospect...little Anna. Though by the look on his face, he seems a little weary



So maybe they'll just be friends. Then again, Sam may not like girls at all. We'll have to see how that shakes out. I'm in no hurry. Maybe we'll be one of those creepy mom and son teams that live together and fight over the bath pillow



ok, maybe not.

My boobs are flying!

I'm busy packing for my trip tomorrow. I'm headed to DC for Mrs. T's baby shower!! I can't wait...I get to see Pdiddy too. I'm guessing that Mrs. T will be too busy to check this blog, so...

I knit the baby girl a hat. And some mittens. But then, I thought, hell, she won't be born until April, what will she need with some mittens? So then I knitted some more, some smaller ones. So they can be "Scratchers mitts." Hopefully will some in usefull to keep the little angle from scratching up her face? And the hat? The pattern says up to six months, so I hope it will still fit come October when a hat may be needed. If not...well, maybe she knows someone else who can use them.

It's funny because as I received many gifts I was always surprised at their timing. I got a xams outfit for a 9 month old? Um, Sam was born in December....so, um, he'll never wear it. I also got alot of short sleeved onsies for 3 month olds. We live in Vermont. They haven't seen the light of day. So then I knit a wool hat for a baby to be born in April. Oh well, me not so smart.

Tomorrow we get on a plane. I'll be that mother that all the other people waiting to board will be looking at wondering "is that baby going to cry the whole time." and "God, I hope they aren't sitting near me." I pray Sam will be in a good mood. He isn't a fan of sitting in one spot, so I'm a little concerned. I have two toys packed in my carry-on that seem to entertain him. And then there is always the secret weapon of "Old McDonald"...man, he loves that shit. I figure people would rather listen to me sing than him scream. Ditto for the boob. Of course we're flying out of Burlington, where this happened. Of course it caused such a hub bub, they'll probably smile and fawn over us. Boobs? We love boobs! We are a boob friendly airline!

So here is to hoping it all goes well. I'll be sure to let you know.

Cranky has never been so cute.

Yesterday J, Sam and I had a little get together with some folks from our birthing class. Only 3 couples showed up, but they are the people I connected with the most, so that was ok. All boys were born from these duos so it was Jack, Lucas, and Sam. I must say, Sam beats the other two in size and, of course, cuteness. Perhaps I'm biased.

Because these social soirees are few and far between there is much fretting over fashion choices. Not for me (I still wear pajamas everywhere I go) but for Sam. I look for the perfect mix of cute, hip and unpretentiousness. (Note: I have found that some of the awesome little man outfits I coveted before he was born, or even still in the stores, make him look like a little snobby yuppy when dressed. I guess babies weren't meant to wear sweater vests.) So this was the perfect opportunity for the Crankypants, lovingly knitted by Aunt Amy, to make their debut! Not only was Sam rockin' the Hokie colors, but the soft wool provides the perfect cozy warmth over his legs that are open to the elements in the Bjorn. They were a hit with the other mama's too. (pay no attention to the horribly sewn up orange booties...those are a mama creation).




LOVE them...I need to order some since Sam is growing like a weed. Too bad Aunt Amy is inundated with orders. Yo Amy, we should talk soon. I'll make it worth your while!

Reconstituted

I'm doing much better. I've started a list and this seems to calm my nerves a little bit. There is something about seeing all the chaos I'm supposed to tackle neatly organized on a piece of paper. Due to my interuppted sleep patterns, my memory has been shot. I was stressed and would then have to think about why. It was like I knew I was stressed, I could feel my stress, but my brain could not recall all the reasons why, which was stressing me out even more. Stressing about not being able to remember what I'm stressed about... reminds me of a particularly bad mushroom trip I had in college. Anyway, now I just have to look at my list and be reminded of why I feel overwhelmed. Ironically calming.

I think I'm going to kill the dog. Due to the 3 feet of snow, his normal poop and pee area has been inaccessible. Therefore, he has been enjoying little jaunts to a snow free zone. As a result, he wants to go out constantly. It is increasingly difficult to tell whether he actually has to go out, or merely wants to go sniff the public toilet of the neighborhood dogs. We need some snow soon, just to cover all the yellow, ick. Also, Sam has become sensitive to his barks. What used to be a deep coma of sleep is now a light nap which Tubbs can, and does, shatter. Everyday.
And my response? To yell at the dog. Smart.