Just wanted to share this photo of me and Nico. He's finally getting over the sickies and getting back to his usual goofy self... he even put some peas and noodles in his ears at lunch today.
Wednesday, May 7
Mr. Nico
Just wanted to share this photo of me and Nico. He's finally getting over the sickies and getting back to his usual goofy self... he even put some peas and noodles in his ears at lunch today.
The pits
My husband has this goofy love for plants. He even puts up a fuss when I weed the plants we keep on our deck. It's upsetting for him to see me yank "the little plants" out of the pots.
The other day I was putting laundry away in our closet when I noticed an avocado pit in one of the cubbies. I asked him about it, and he was like well what's it to you, I want to keep it there. I was so confused. Why keep it in the closet? Some ancient Peruvian good luck charm? No... he just wanted to keep the pit. It's now accompanying the other avocado pit that's been sitting in the dirt of our basil plant on the kitchen counter. He also hides coins everywhere. All our potted bamboo plants have quarters and nickles buried in the stones. Open a cabinet and you might find a little pile of change on one of the shelves. If we're ever hard up for cash, all I have to do is make one sweep through the house to collect all the loose money. I could probably pay the mortgage with what he's got hidden in the bathroom closet.
So that's today's weirdo fact about life at La Rivera's house... the plants get to keep their weeds, and they all get a 401k plan.
The other day I was putting laundry away in our closet when I noticed an avocado pit in one of the cubbies. I asked him about it, and he was like well what's it to you, I want to keep it there. I was so confused. Why keep it in the closet? Some ancient Peruvian good luck charm? No... he just wanted to keep the pit. It's now accompanying the other avocado pit that's been sitting in the dirt of our basil plant on the kitchen counter. He also hides coins everywhere. All our potted bamboo plants have quarters and nickles buried in the stones. Open a cabinet and you might find a little pile of change on one of the shelves. If we're ever hard up for cash, all I have to do is make one sweep through the house to collect all the loose money. I could probably pay the mortgage with what he's got hidden in the bathroom closet.
So that's today's weirdo fact about life at La Rivera's house... the plants get to keep their weeds, and they all get a 401k plan.
Tuesday, May 6
Business as usual
Well I managed to dress myself this morning. It's a step in the right direction. It's 4:20 in the afternoon and I'm about to brush my teeth after enjoying a grape popsicle. The excitement never ends, does it?
And don't think for a minute that I'm not wearing blue granny undies with my white yoga pants. I said I'm wearing real clothes, I didn't say I made any effort to coordinate them with my undergarments. Luckily I don't have to go anywhere.
Speaking of pants... Miss Fussy Pants wanted to be held most of the day and she finally fell asleep for real about an hour and a half ago. Nico is still napping. *OW pause one brief moment for uterine-shrinking crampy stomach pain* Nico has gotten himself into the habit of running from one side of our L-shaped sofa to the other, and today he finally fell off. We've been warning him but he never listens; he prefers to laugh in the face of danger and look at us like we're crazy. It happened all too suddenly, too fast for me to move the baby off my lap and dive to catch him. Luckily he's fine.
It's late. I should go in and wake him from his nap. I'm just enjoying the peace and quiet so much that it hurts to think of doing anything but lying down on the sofa until he wakes on his own... even if that might not be until after 5:00.
And don't think for a minute that I'm not wearing blue granny undies with my white yoga pants. I said I'm wearing real clothes, I didn't say I made any effort to coordinate them with my undergarments. Luckily I don't have to go anywhere.
Speaking of pants... Miss Fussy Pants wanted to be held most of the day and she finally fell asleep for real about an hour and a half ago. Nico is still napping. *OW pause one brief moment for uterine-shrinking crampy stomach pain* Nico has gotten himself into the habit of running from one side of our L-shaped sofa to the other, and today he finally fell off. We've been warning him but he never listens; he prefers to laugh in the face of danger and look at us like we're crazy. It happened all too suddenly, too fast for me to move the baby off my lap and dive to catch him. Luckily he's fine.
It's late. I should go in and wake him from his nap. I'm just enjoying the peace and quiet so much that it hurts to think of doing anything but lying down on the sofa until he wakes on his own... even if that might not be until after 5:00.
Monday, May 5
I finally started doing it again tonight!
Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about shaving my legs. It's been... hmm... many a month since I've had smooth legs. I think I gave it up some time around Thanksgiving. Or maybe it was Halloween. It was right after the last time I wore capri pants, which I think was at my sister's bridal shower. So that was actually pre-trick or treat.
My poor little pink razor had no idea what hit her tonight when I decided to get a shower. It took two rounds on each leg, but the results are impressive. I'll tell you what prompted me to finally start grooming myself again. I was about to get in the shower when I decided to check my post-partum body progress. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and I was surprised at how good I'm looking. Not to sound snooty or anything, but I'm really happy with how I'm healing up and shrinking down. My scar is nice and smooth, and my tummy isn't doing that oh-so-unattractive flop over thing, meaning I no longer have to lift up my tummy to see my scar. Might not sound like much, but to me it's a huge deal.
To celebrate my progress, I shaved my legs. A weird way to party down, but I feel like a whole new person. I think I'm even going to get a hair cut. A new style. I want to feel completely unencumbered by excess hair. It's time to rock and roll.
My poor little pink razor had no idea what hit her tonight when I decided to get a shower. It took two rounds on each leg, but the results are impressive. I'll tell you what prompted me to finally start grooming myself again. I was about to get in the shower when I decided to check my post-partum body progress. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and I was surprised at how good I'm looking. Not to sound snooty or anything, but I'm really happy with how I'm healing up and shrinking down. My scar is nice and smooth, and my tummy isn't doing that oh-so-unattractive flop over thing, meaning I no longer have to lift up my tummy to see my scar. Might not sound like much, but to me it's a huge deal.
To celebrate my progress, I shaved my legs. A weird way to party down, but I feel like a whole new person. I think I'm even going to get a hair cut. A new style. I want to feel completely unencumbered by excess hair. It's time to rock and roll.
Saturday, May 3
The sick and the tired
So Nico is sick. He's got an infection in his mouth, a viral type of thing, and he's got a spotty rash on his cute little face. His throat is sore and his gums are swollen and red. We're just trying to keep Olivia from catching any of it, washing our hands like crazy and changing our shirts after we hold Nico. After two outfit changes, we decided Frank would be in charge of Nico and I'd take care of the baby since I have to feed her anyway. She's been fussy all morning and is finally napping. Today is the first day she was awake all morning, which is good since we want her to get her nights and days in the right order. But I really wish she had been sleeping more today just so I could have gotten some rest. I'm so selfish.
Poor Nico is so uncomfortable. The doctor did say he'd get worse before he got better since yesterday was only the second day. Hopefully tomorrow he will be on the road to feeling much better. I'm just so tired. I miss those nice long nights of sleep. I could use a good six hour stretch right about now. Nico can go to bed at 8 and sleep through until 7 the next morning. I feel all screwed up now that I'm up and down during the nights again. I'm in this tunnel of no sleep, and not knowing when I'll be able to sleep, and I'm just not used to it and it's making me miserable. I'm about to drown my sorrows in a big bowl of pasta with Mom's sauce and meatballs. a-boo-woo-woo.
Poor Nico is so uncomfortable. The doctor did say he'd get worse before he got better since yesterday was only the second day. Hopefully tomorrow he will be on the road to feeling much better. I'm just so tired. I miss those nice long nights of sleep. I could use a good six hour stretch right about now. Nico can go to bed at 8 and sleep through until 7 the next morning. I feel all screwed up now that I'm up and down during the nights again. I'm in this tunnel of no sleep, and not knowing when I'll be able to sleep, and I'm just not used to it and it's making me miserable. I'm about to drown my sorrows in a big bowl of pasta with Mom's sauce and meatballs. a-boo-woo-woo.
Friday, May 2
"Rufus is a T*t Man" (at least that's how they write it on iTunes)
One day, years ago, I was at work checking in on the latest iTunes had to offer. One of my favorite things to do was go through the celebrity play lists. Rufus Wainwright had his up, and one of his songs was a little tune by Loudon Wainwright III called "Rufus is a T*t Man". Rufus's comment on this song was that he believed himself to be the only person with a song written about him breastfeeding. I'm still entertained when I hum it to myself. I looked it up just now on iTunes, though, and only found an acoustic version which doesn't hold the same charm as the track I originally heard and still have stuck in my head. It's got to be the most original way I've heard of for memorializing that special time in your baby's life.
While it's fine to write a song for or about your kid, I have a certain opinion about artists including their children's actual voices in their music. At least the music they sell to me. Even now, my thought on the topic of putting your baby's voice on your record is thus: please, God, no. But they all do it anyway. Everyone from Stevie Wonder to Outkast to Tool has at one time or another ruined a song for me by bringing a baby (not necessarily their own) into the studio and having that baby cry, coo, talk, or curse (ok sometimes that's funny) into the microphone, and then they think it's just so darn spectacular that they just have to work it into a song somewhere.
I can understand wanting people to think your baby is cute. I'm certainly guilty of sending out photo after photo of my own, but this whole music thing is different. With a picture, people see it, say "aw", and that's it. With a song, the baby's voice is right there every time. You're forced to hear it over and over and over again. It can be the best song in the world, but throw a kiddie giggle in there and it's ruined forever. So please, all you musicians out there with kids... stop putting your babies on your records. I believe you that they're cute. I just don't need to hear it every time I listen to "Isn't She Lovely" -- which incidentally would be a perfect song if you'd just remove that ten minute chunk of baby sounds.
While it's fine to write a song for or about your kid, I have a certain opinion about artists including their children's actual voices in their music. At least the music they sell to me. Even now, my thought on the topic of putting your baby's voice on your record is thus: please, God, no. But they all do it anyway. Everyone from Stevie Wonder to Outkast to Tool has at one time or another ruined a song for me by bringing a baby (not necessarily their own) into the studio and having that baby cry, coo, talk, or curse (ok sometimes that's funny) into the microphone, and then they think it's just so darn spectacular that they just have to work it into a song somewhere.
I can understand wanting people to think your baby is cute. I'm certainly guilty of sending out photo after photo of my own, but this whole music thing is different. With a picture, people see it, say "aw", and that's it. With a song, the baby's voice is right there every time. You're forced to hear it over and over and over again. It can be the best song in the world, but throw a kiddie giggle in there and it's ruined forever. So please, all you musicians out there with kids... stop putting your babies on your records. I believe you that they're cute. I just don't need to hear it every time I listen to "Isn't She Lovely" -- which incidentally would be a perfect song if you'd just remove that ten minute chunk of baby sounds.
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