Baby Blues

They say that after a woman gives birth, with all of the residual hormones raging in her body, she is likely to have postpartum depression. I think that it should be known as Baby Burnout. I'm not depressed...just overwhelmed, easily annoyed and overall a bit cranky due to severe lack of sleep. In fact, I am crying as I type this. Mike just went on one of his first outings alone with our son. If anything happens to them my life is over. Oh happy day!

The Forgotten

I am such a sleep-deprived space cadet lately. The other night, we went out to our favorite Teriyaki place for noodle bowls for dinner. I purposely left half of my meal so that I could enjoy it the next day for lunch-even taking great care to leave the proper ratio of the meat and vegetables. I got a take out container and meticulously scraped my luscious leftovers in and then walked right out leaving my treasure behind on the table. I was so ticked off when I got home empty handed. And even more unhappy the next day eating dry toast for lunch.

Zombie

I can't get much shut eye around here anymore. Between getting up 2-3 times per night to feed Lucas and the fact that he is a bit of an insomniac during the day, makes it tough for me to get my proper amount of beauty sleep.

Today durning one of his catnaps, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to make a quick puddle of drool on my pillow. I joined him in a few magical moments of slumber. I was so nice and relaxed and the spittle was just forming in the corner of my mouth...oh sweet bliss. And then Arnold Schwarzenegger called and woke me up followed by a delivery guy ringing the doorbell. No rest for the wicked weary.

Banana?

Recently I was shopping at Wal-Mart with my parents and Lucas. I had Lucas in his stroller and was pushing him around. A group of women surrounded the sweetie slumbering in his stroller and excitedly said, "Chiquita, chiquita." I smiled and wondered why they were calling my son a banana. He's not jaundiced or cone headed anymore. Sheesh, cut the kid some slack, ladies.

Question

Why is it that babies drink all their meals, yet they still produce poop?

Pollock Jokes

Our church meets at the Polish Community Center in town. I jokingly told my mother-in-law that we have to be Polish to attend there. “We told them that our last name is “Lomonacowski.” I think that she believed me for a second.

Hypochondriac

I got my hand slapped by the pediatrician this week for stopping in. I happened to be in the building for my own doctor's appointment and wanted to see if someone could quickly check out the lump that I discovered on little Lucas' head. Does this growing tumor require a visit, I wanted to know? The nurse told me that I need to call in such questions (not just pop in at will) and that the lump was normal.

Normal. What is normal? Everything seeming out of the ordinary freaks me out. We were just in last week because of his flaming red rump and enlarged breast tissue (caused apparently by my hormones in the breast milk...oh and the same hormones give him baby acne, too). My hormones SUCK!

Today, I got up the courage to call the office again because Lucas has been stuffy and struggling to breathe at night since Saturday and then screaming like he is in pain when I am feeding him. It's been a long few days of excessive fussiness. And it turns out that the problem is possibly with me. My diet, actually. I am now to avoid all dairy (WHAT, no ice cream, milk, cheese or yogurt?!), acidic juices, caffeine, carbonated beverages. Life as I know it is officially over. All of my little pleasures have been taken away from me...sleep, showering in peace, and now ice cream and orange juice). What next? I just wanted a little nasal spray or something not an evil diet.

Note to self--Don't call the pediatrician anymore. He has it in for me.