Cathy the Librarian

People have emailed me, letting me know that they actually read my blog! This seems unbelievable, but I’m quite honored. Unfortunately, I have this issue… its called a very active seven month old. You may have heard of these things (people I think some people call them), but its all new to me. I get home from the library, and change a diaper, heat up some yummy *stinky* (cough-cough) peas, feed them to the imp (that is his nickname, since both Jeff and I think he practices looking impish) clean him up, feed ourselves, clean the diaper again, play with him, give him a bottle, change him into pajamas, and put him to bed. By this time I’m ready to pass out and its only 9:30 pm. I also try and fit in some Dance Dance Revolution, so I can be all fit and sexy, so when Jack gets older he has a MILF. Okay, I guess that last part is a little creepy, but I would like to be in shape so that I can keep up with him when he starts walking. So anyway, I hardly get any time at all to myself, but I guess that’s okay because I love Jack to pieces and would do anything at all for him. I don’ t want to be put in this kind of situation, but I understand when moms kill for their children. Not that I agree with killing or anything, I’m just saying that I understand.

People have emailed me, letting me know that they actually read my blog! This seems unbelievable, but I’m quite honored. Unfortunately, I have this issue… its called a very active seven month old. You may have heard of these things (people I think some people call them), but its all new to me. I get home from the library, and change a diaper, heat up some yummy *stinky* (cough-cough) peas, feed them to the imp (that is his nickname, since both Jeff and I think he practices looking impish) clean him up, feed ourselves, clean the diaper again, play with him, give him a bottle, change him into pajamas, and put him to bed. By this time I’m ready to pass out and its only 9:30 pm. I also try and fit in some Dance Dance Revolution, so I can be all fit and sexy, so when Jack gets older he has a MILF. Okay, I guess that last part is a little creepy, but I would like to be in shape so that I can keep up with him when he starts walking. So anyway, I hardly get any time at all to myself, but I guess that’s okay because I love Jack to pieces and would do anything at all for him. I don’ t want to be put in this kind of situation, but I understand when moms kill for their children. Not that I agree with killing or anything, I’m just saying that I understand.

Finally, all that drool has paid off. I spoke to my mom before Jeff and Jack got home, and she had to immediately tell me… JACK GOT HIS FIRST TOOTH! Unfortunately, its mostly still right below the skin. He keeps getting bigger and bigger. I can’t believe he’ll already be 6 months on Friday. Has it been that long already? It amazes me. Anywho. Time to put him to bed soon.

I know I could never be as awesome as these guys are with their kid (you need to click on the title to see what I mean) but I’ve decided I really need to try. I’ve seen so many “teen coming of age” movies where the parents are complete losers who seem to have no idea what these things called teenagers are doing living in their house. The parents are completely out of it, don’t know how to talk to their kids, and if they do talk to them, they never know what to say. After watching all those 80’s teen movies, I don’t know how there are any people alive who are in their thirties.
This whole rant all stems from watching the movie Whatever, which actually came out in 1998, but takes place in 1981. Everyone is completely f**ked up, smoking up, snorting blow and drinking gallon jugs of Jack Daniels. The whole time I watched the movie, I was fascinated by it, yet completely disgusted at the same time. Does anyone talk to their kids? Do parents tell their kids about these great new things called CONDOMS? I mean Gawd! if you’re going to have sex with every friggin person in your school, you could at least make sure that they used a condom!
Jack if you ever read this, I hope that you like me enough when you’re 17 to talk to me about all those taboo teen things that parents and teens don’t talk about. I mean, if I’m going to be honest, I’m not the purest angel in the flock! I’m quite sure that I gave my dad most of the white hairs he’s got right now. I wasn’t horrible of course, but I did some stuff that makes me shake my head even now. ANYWHO! I really don’t think I’m going to turn a complete 180 in the span of time that it takes Jack to become a teen. If I do, well… I apologize now for having to jump off that bridge.
Wow. Talk about rambling.
If you read yesterday’s post about Buster, we did talk it over some, and we decided to return Buster to the greyhound group that we got him from. It really sucks, but I think that we’ll all be happier in the long run. I still feel like shit though.

Okay, I figure with teething, there will be some drool. I didn’t think that there was going to be the Niagra Falls of drool coming out of my son’s mouth. But there is. He drools and drools and drools. I can’t toss him in the air anymore (please don’t call social services on me, I don’t let go of him) even though he loves it. I end up with drool in the eye or drool down the cleavage. Believe me, you have not lived until you have your own son’s drool down your cleavage. I go through HUGE amounts of onesies, and baby blankets and you’ll never see me in a silk shirt (not that I wore that many beforehand anyway). My wardrobe consists of t-shirts in different colors and pants that can handle being peed and pooped on. If I don’t change his onesies soon after they have been soaked with drool, they end up getting mildewy WHILE HE’S STILL IN IT! I don’t know what I can do, but this needs to end, SOON. My son doesn’t seem too upset, but my husband is losing his mind, because he can’t handle drool, and I’m even at wits end. People will hold him and come away drenched. This is not very nice if I get tired of holding him. Anyway… HELP!

BTW, he’s almost 6 months and he’s HUGE! He’s not huge in the fat way, he’s just really big. The last time we went to the doctor (I don’t know if I mentioned this last time) he was 90th percentile for both height and weight. He’s a BIG boy! There’s just so much of him to love! That’s okay though. He loves to play hard already, and he’ll play in the jumperoo until he falls asleep. Ahhh….

I know I could never be as awesome as these guys are with their kid (you need to click on the title to see what I mean) but I’ve decided I really need to try. I’ve seen so many “teen coming of age” movies where the parents are complete losers who seem to have no idea what these things called teenagers are doing living in their house. The parents are completely out of it, don’t know how to talk to their kids, and if they do talk to them, they never know what to say. After watching all those 80’s teen movies, I don’t know how there are any people alive who are in their thirties.
This whole rant all stems from watching the movie Whatever, which actually came out in 1998, but takes place in 1981. Everyone is completely f**ked up, smoking up, snorting blow and drinking gallon jugs of Jack Daniels. The whole time I watched the movie, I was fascinated by it, yet completely disgusted at the same time. Does anyone talk to their kids? Do parents tell their kids about these great new things called CONDOMS? I mean Gawd! if you’re going to have sex with every friggin person in your school, you could at least make sure that they used a condom!
Jack if you ever read this, I hope that you like me enough when you’re 17 to talk to me about all those taboo teen things that parents and teens don’t talk about. I mean, if I’m going to be honest, I’m not the purest angel in the flock! I’m quite sure that I gave my dad most of the white hairs he’s got right now. I wasn’t horrible of course, but I did some stuff that makes me shake my head even now. ANYWHO! I really don’t think I’m going to turn a complete 180 in the span of time that it takes Jack to become a teen. If I do, well… I apologize now for having to jump off that bridge.
Wow. Talk about rambling.
If you read yesterday’s post about Buster, we did talk it over some, and we decided to return Buster to the greyhound group that we got him from. It really sucks, but I think that we’ll all be happier in the long run. I still feel like shit though.

We have a jumperoo, which is a self-contained Johny Jumper. Jack is finally (did I say finally? He’s only three and a half months old…) able to bounce up and down in his jumper.

He’s a little over three months now (June 30 he turned 3 mths), and he eats and eats and eats. I decided yesterday that I had to give up nursing. I was starting to really enjoy the bonding experience and think I’m really going to miss it, but I don’t think I was producing enough milk. If you know me, and know that my chest is quite large, it seems strange, but I just can’t keep up with him! Maybe larger chested women = not good milkers. I talked to a lot of smaller chested woman and they have no problems, in fact milk just seems to squirt on command (and even not on command). It really seems ass backwards, but there you go. Sometimes the world is ass backwards.
Anyway…
Take today for example.
4:30 PM – My mom feeds him 6 oz.
6:45 PM – I feed him 6 oz
8:45 PM – He starts screaming yet again and Jeff feeds him another 6 oz.

This baby of mine is going to be huge! My mom told me that I should give him some formula and mix in a little rice cereal. I thought okay, that sounds good, but you wouldn’t believe how many debates this spurred. Now I have to call the doctor to make sure she thinks this is okay. I just want my baby to stop screaming because he’s hungry all the time!

I am also grateful for the baby sling that I have. I can carry him around without my back giving out and I can feed him while I walk. This is definately a most wonderful invention. While at the Ren Fest in Sterling on Sunday, I spoke to a woman named Amy from Webster and she makes the slings, so I might have her make me another. Yippee! I could always make my own, but that would require me to learn how to sew, so we’ll see.

BTW – He is ADORABLE! I need to post more pictures in the gallery.

Its interesting. People surround the baby when they are first born (well, and the mother too, but the mother is mostly ignored), but at some point after the first few weeks, its like the family has been hit by the plague. I love my son and my husband, but it really gets lonely. I don’t know if other new mothers first first felt like this. I feel like a very lonely milking machine.

My life right now consists of sleeping, working and feeding Jack. There’s so much stuff I want to do (like write some more in this blog) but every spare moment I get is for sleeping or eating.

Right now I’ve found this great book called The Ultimate Smoothie Book by Calbom. I made one with banana, soy milk and peanut butter for breakfast. It was so good, I want one EVERY morning! At first I thought soy milk, ick, but its really yummy. Plus, its quick and I can drink my breakfast on the way to work!