well, one of them, anyway. she may be a rightie.
a few milestones and observations:
- ripley laughed today, on the four-week anniversary of her transition to being an outside baby. as of yesterday, she still isn’t a huge fan of babywearing, but remains all about the babycarrying.
- she’s gaining weight like a champ. she’s a third heavier than she was when we brought her home. i, on the other hand, am twenty pounds lighter. booyah.
- her dad and her grandmother gave her her first bath on friday, as i was catching up on some much-needed sleep. her highness was not amused. in the slightest. she did smell much better afterwards, though, which suggests to me that there is more to baby-wrangling than just feeding, changing, and burping. i may need to look into that.
- snuffy remains mostly disinterested, unless ripley starts squalling. then he tries to comfort her the best way he knows how: licking her face, bringing her his toys, and as a last resort, bopping her on the head with his tennis ball. we’re trying to discourage the last one, at least until her skull hardens up.
- it is very difficult to knit when caring for a newborn. it is also very difficult to shower, eat, sleep, or have adult conversations that don’t revolve around the intricacies of caring for a newborn, or even just comments like, “we went through three diapers in two minutes – the one she was wearing, the one i tried to put on her when she decided to take another massive shit, and the one she’s wearing now. what’s that? she just took another dump? that’s. just. great.”
- grandmothers are awesome. all newborns should come with a set.
- other things that newborns should come with, but don’t:
- a milk gauge
- an air gauge
- a temperature readout
- a self-cleaning option
- a user manual (yes, i would read it. maybe.)
- a usb 2.0 port (got to download the hundreds of iphone photos of her somewhere.)
- oxytocin: the love and xenophobia chemical. i am totally googly over my daughter. she is amazing. she is awesome. she can do no wrong. (this all may be linked to the fact that she is pre-verbal, non-ambulatory, and so far can only communicate through coos, sighs, grunts, and screams. oh – and a giggle!) i am also filled with rage at the carelessness of other drivers. the shortest drive anywhere has become a test of my willpower to not jump out at every stop sign and traffic light and haul an offending driver out of his or her vehicle, screaming “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? MY OFFSPRING IS IN MY CAR AND YOU’RE DRIVING LIKE A TOTAL MORON, ENDANGERING MY PROGENY! DIE! DIE! DIE!” while strangling them with a spit-up soaked tshirt.
- spitup. oh, wow. that stuff is gross. and i think it multiplies on its own.
most important observation so far, though? sticking it out through the IUIs, the IVF cycles, the years of trying – best decision i ever made. Ripley is, hands down, the coolest thing i’ve ever done. and that realization surprises the fuck out of me.
more later. she just let rip with two huge, wet farts. i should probably see if she needs to be changed.
1535: henry viii declares himself head of the english church.
1780: continental congress establishes court of appeals.
1879: harperâ€™s weekly runs first cartoon portraying donkey as the symbol of the democratic party.
1934: babe ruth signs contract for $35k.
and most important of all:
1944: my dad was born.
happy birthday, dad!
it’s been five years, what a surprise
five years, since you left this side
your face, your race, the way that you walk
i miss you, you’re beautiful, i want you to talk with me
another fall you didn’t see. this year, your first great-grandchild. half a decade, and i can still smell your house when it rains; still see you working in yard, bending at the waist yoga-style, pulling violets out of the driveway. it doesn’t hurt anymore. much. i can smile when i think of you now.
i miss you, you’re beautiful…
love you, oma.
i don’t usually swear in this blog. at least, not in the post titles. but it’s friday morning, and i don’t want to get out of bed. and i’m ANGRY.
why don’t you want to get out of bed, my dear readers (all six of ‘em) ask.
because, i answer, due to our Fearless Leader’s wartime plans and use of stop loss as a back door draft (the better to hide the effects of this war from the general population and control public response), 3200 soldiers from fort drum (NY) have been forced to extend their tour in afghanistan by at least four months.
, my dear readers say, that’s not good. but how does that affect you? Continue reading