The world famous, awesome comedian, Kerri Pomarolli!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Letters to Lucy - SuperStar!
Dear Love Bug,
It's July 19th and I'm pretty sure this book will have about 10 pages by the time you're ten. Every time I try to get to the computer to write I'm stopped by clothes to clean, food to pick up, diapers to change or an impromptu game of "let's chase Lucy" around the house. Luckily our place isn't that big because you're super duper fast Ms. Mario Andretti. (I know you won't know who that is..look him up in your history book.)
You're literally almost walking. I'm not lying. I knew you were advanced when you rolled over at 3 weeks and started trying to climb out of your crib at 6 months. In fact to this day every time we put you in your crib you immediately make a break for it as if you're about to be put in prison, which is how you refer to any crib or enclosed environment. You're almost 9 months and you not only can cruise all around the furniture unassisted, you can balance all by yourself with no hands. Then you fall down and eat it on the floor. Then you repeat the process. You're a tough little cookie.
Your favorite thing is to go next door and have Uncle Danny hold your hands and let you run around their kitchen over and over and over and over. He has not quit the gym because you're enough cardio. He and Aunt Anne are expecting baby Sydney in a month or so and I'm not sure you're going to like sharing his and Auntie Anne's attention. You've had them all to yourself your whole life. I laugh because Uncle Danny seems terrified of children and babies in general. But when you're around he's the one you want to hang out with. He babysat for you last night and he said all you did was want to run around their place with him holding you for 3 hours and then sit on the couch with him. You won't sit still for many people but when you're over at their place you're totally chill. Ok, maybe it's their big screen TV ? You seem to like the food channel and I hope that parlays into some child genius cooking skills so we can be a well fed family. I'm still not cooking. I have cookbooks out and they sit there and stare at me like some homework assignment I will never get done. Ironically, I'm making your baby food though. I think that's more because I'm cheap and competitive and I want to save money and also brag that I did it homemade to other moms and your Nana especially.
But this walking thing is pretty amazing. I know I'm not supposed to compare your milestones to other babies but everyone does it. And since you're ahead of the curve I'm totally ok with it in this case. I just love it when other moms ask me "Is she crawling yet?" And Dad chimes in like a proud peacock but trying to seem humble "Yes she's also trying to walk by herself" We try to seem like it's no big deal when they ask "How old did you say she was again?" It's fun!
In other cases like weight and height since you are lower on the % , I take no stock in any of those statistics. You are 50% in height and 25% in weight. My friend referred to that as "Average" and we just don't say that word in our house. Ask your dad about his Asian upbringing. There was no average. That's why he's so stinkin' smart! I asked him one time "Honey do you think Asian kids are genetically smarter?" He said "No. Our mothers just beat it into us!" Isn't that sweet? So now I'm that mom. Just Kidding.
But seriously you're awesome. I don't have to push you. You are going to walk by yourself any day now. I, on the other hand, didn't walk till I was 15 months and your father was at least a year old. Yes, I was telling jokes at about 1, but we see where that got me. No health insurance. I used to try harder to get you to talk, but basically you just say" Ba Ba Bu Bu" and that's because you learned that from your friend Alexa. We try to pretend you're saying Ma Ma so we can record it in the baby book that you talked and said your first words. But I can't find any word that sounds like Ba Ba so we're stuck on the talking thing. But that's ok Daddy talks enough for all 3 of us!
We thought for sure you'd be this big talker and fat and lazy like your parents were when we were babies. But you've been a mover and a shaker this whole time. I think you're planning your escape somewhere more exotic than our little home. I'm no more allowed to sit at this computer while you are in the room. It's much more fun for you to make me watch you run around and try to eat things like coffee table handles and pieces of paper that you've stolen from all over the place. Speaking of stealing, you have this obsession with tags. Do all babies have this? You love tags on everything especially clothes. When we took you to Macy's the other day as I was holding you, I noticed you had systematically ripped off the price tags of three items and had them in your hands. If I was raising you to be a thief I'd say you have a bright future. But let's see if we can do something else with those fast hands of yours. How about sculpting? Naa...no way to get scholarship with that. What about cards? Professional gambler? Well your Nana does like the slots, it might be in your blood. Well we have some time still to decide your life's calling and what it is exactly that is going to pay for your college. With your amazing physical agility at such a young age we're now thinking track or cross country running or the ever faithful Korean Irish Italian super model route. You have choices, honey. You have choices!
Love,
Mama
Labels: Letters to Lucy, Lucy, Mommyhood, Motherhood
Monday, June 23, 2008
Letters to Lucy - He Snores, She Snores
Dear Little Piggy,
Well he's done it again. Another one of your daddy's traits has made it's way down the gene pool to you, my dear. Yep, you're both in there now snoring away like two little piggies. It's darling when you do it now. But if you follow in his footsteps, I'm afraid your wedding night will be like daddy's when mommy almost smothered his face with a pillow!
It makes me laugh how our children take on our genes and little tendancies. You really do snore little one when you're really tired. But that's ok because as a first time mom it always lets me know you're breathing. I sometimes when you were first born would run into your room in the mornings or in the night to make sure you were breathing.It sounds crazy but I guarantee you'll do it yourself. I even pulled the car over once because you were so quiet in the back seat. So I'll just take this little snoring thing as a gift from God to let me know you're A ok! Now if I could just do the same with your father…
Labels: Letters to Lucy, Mommyhood, Motherhood
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Letters to Lucy - Working
Dear Munchkin.
I'm trying to be a good mom and write this book so you can have something to look back on and realize that you were loved and cared for and every moment with you was sacred. Well I've done a bang up job so far because every time I think I have something profound to write about I can't make it over to the computer to record it. I'm too busy cleaning spit up out of my couch, washing and drying baby clothes stained with brown iron supplements or most recently chasing you around the house trying to explain in your language why it's not a good idea to chew on electrical cords or eat paper. You're so into eating paper while we were in the security line at LAX airport the other day you ate my boarding pass. Literally you ate it. I felt like a kid with no homework when it was time to show it to the security officer and I was sitting there holding my puppy/baby trying to explain why I didn't have a boarding pass! Nice Lucy..really nice.
Today you are 7 months old and in the past three months I've not done much writing in this so-called book I vowed to author. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I, after all, am a professional writer and I've written entire books before, believe it or not. But something happened after I gave birth you and all of my brain cells have somehow been sucked literally out of my body. I'm sort of a walking robot that breastfeeds and cleans and changes diapers and manages to sing a song or two once in a while and then collapses at the end of a long day and wakes up to do it again. Is this motherhood? Is this what they were talking about when they told me it was the best, most difficult thing I'd ever do? The joke with me is that I've attempted to keep my job. I've attempted to convince other people I can do anything else but be a full-time mom. Because no matter what, every mom is a full time mom. Just some of us are crazy enough to think we can handle other obligations. Maybe some other women can handle it, but I'm going stark raving mad! I love you to pieces and I wouldn't change having your cute little face in my life for anything in the world. And when you become a mom someday you too will wonder how it's all to be done and you'll probably call me and ask "Mom how did you survive?" I'll tell ya when we get there!
Love you.
Mom
Labels: Letters to Lucy, Lucy, Mommyhood, Motherhood, Working
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Letters To Lucy - Top Ten Things To Do While Breastfeeding
1. Plan your next vacation-sans children.
2. Wonder who Pamela Anderson and Madonna hired as their "Wet nurses" and how you could get their numbers.
3. Ask God why if women carry the baby why couldn't He have men do the breastfeeding? Then remember it's because men are usually late and would forget to feed the children.
4. Play the minute game with the clock closing your eyes and seeing how close you can come to 60 seconds without peeking.
5. Remember what it was like to wear tiny lacy bras and wonder who Pam Anderson and Madonna hired as plastic surgeons and how you could get their numbers.
6. Think of all the chores that need to be done around the house and shout them off to your spouse loudly one by one starting each sentence with" Honey, since I'm breastfeeding your child could you..."
7. Make important business calls knowing this will be the one time your baby is quiet.
8. Realize your exotic dancing career will probably never happen now and being that you're a woman of great morals rationalize you're ok with this fact.
9. Vow never to do a topless scene in any movie even if Matt Damon is your co-star and the money will send your kids to college.
10. Look lovingly at your baby remembering that you will remind them weekly for the rest of their lives all the sacrifices you've made for them as their mother and they owe you big time!
Labels: breastfeeding, Letters to Lucy, Mommyhood, Motherhood
Friday, March 28, 2008
Letters to Lucy - Home
Lucy,
You won't understand this until you're a mom. But if you met me before you were born you would have seen a Type A (or type triple A as your dad calls me) woman. I was a go-getter. A "get it done" kind of gal. I had multi-tasking down to an impressive science. You name it, I did it! I took lessons, I read books, wrote books, traveled, lunched with friends. I was a woman with goals and those goals got accomplished. Now I can't even seem to find time to bathe! Yes you heard me! Bathing has become somewhat of a luxury activity, one in which the entire time is spent with me peaking out of the shower to glance at the video cam making sure you are still sleeping and alive. I just don't need the papers writing some story about me someday as the mother who took too long a shower and her child got out of the crib and starting eating glue or something.
But today I had chocolate cake for breakfast standing on one leg in the kitchen and forgot to brush my teeth completely. I managed to remember to feed you 30 minutes later than scheduled and now I've realized I lost your baby book that has never even been written in. How's that for "get it done?" I've turned into this walking breast-feeding machine that runs from the couch to the laundry and back to the couch for more feedings and then to the kitchen to clean dishes that have been there for two days. You daddy is a big help I must say. I've convinced him that all men have to do kitchen clean up and dust so he does it. But I just didn't think I'd be so "out of this world" when you were past 3 months old. Surely, I should have the hang of this new role in my life by now right? Not even close. I went back to work in December and you and I did some fun comedy shows together on the road and we made it back alive. Mind you we had "Auntie Karen, Aunt Lilly" and others to help but we made it. It's true when they say," It takes a village to raise a child." I guess they meant you, huh? I know God knew what He was doing when He gave me you. You're so mellow and even in the midst of life's craziness you have this calm cool look in your little blue eyes as if you're saying, "Mommy it's going to be all right!"
I'm a terrible flyer I have to tell you. I get so scared up in the airplanes when it gets bumpy and I keep praying to God to save my life and I make promises that I'll be a better person all the time. I think I've found true religion on many airplanes. But the other day when you were laid out on that little meal tray and our plane began to bump and thump. I was freaking out. I grabbed your dad's arm and tried not to turn it blue from my grip of steel. He just smiled and told me it was going to be all right and then gave me some made up scientific reasons we weren't going to die. I didn't believe him anyway. But in all the up and down bouncing you just laid there right below me with this very collected grin on your face. You stared me right in the eyes the entire time without looking away. I tried to keep calm and you just kept smiling. I could almost read your thoughts. I think you were saying "Mom, we've got this covered. I'm here with you now and it's all going to be ok." Lucy, you as my daughter have that effect on me every day. I came home after we landed and walked into our little home completely exhausted. I looked around and compared to your grandparents 8500 sq foot mansion, our 900 sq ft place looked cluttered and dirty. My type A personality was rearing its ugly head and I started to despair on all the cleaning I'd have to do right that minute.
There were things to put away, bags to unpack, clothes to fold. I was miserable already. Then I looked down, as you gleefully played on our big red couch happy as a clam. You exuded a radiance of pure joy to be in your perfect little home. I know you knew right where you were. You were at peace in all of the clutter. Because you knew you were in a place filled with love. So I threw everything down and played on that big red couch with you and your dad. We all cuddled up and watched two episodes of "I Love Lucy" on the television. Yes I let you watch some TV sometimes and I'm sure all the parenting books will tell me I'm a terrible mom but I don't care. The show had your name in it after all. I felt at peace. I had everything I could ever want and I'm not just saying that. I really felt content. I was happy to be home. Thanks Lucy.
Love,
Mom
Labels: Home, Letters to Lucy, Mommyhood, Motherhood
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Letters to Lucy - Mommy Magic
Dear Little One,
I realized I have magical powers tonight. You were so sad and crying uncontrollably. People would say you were "teething" or have "baby gas" or a myriad of other issues. But all I know is that when I stuck my pinky finger in your mouth you happily accepted it and then sucked and sucked with all your might. You smiled at me as if to say "Thanks Mom!" and then you closed your eyes in pure bliss and drifted off to dreamland. I realize I have that power in my little finger and also in my very own bosom as you nurse for your food. I can make it all better very quickly. If only I could keep that "magic finger" for when your first boyfriend breaks up with you with a note in gym class, or the other girls don't pick you for their kickball team, or any of the other terrors I fear you will have to face before you make it through adolescence. Oh it can be so hard. I know this from firsthand experience. I pray to God of course you will never have to go through any pain or trial whatsoever. But unless Jesus comes back first I'm pretty convinced every day of your life won't be a total cakewalk.
You'll probably be blessed with my sense of humor which has been described as "inappropriate or lethal wit" at times. That can get you into trouble. The rule of thumb my dear is "sometimes we think things that are funny in our heads but we don't have to say them out loud!" As I watch you sleeping and kiss your forehead. I wish there was a way for me to permanently attach my lips to your soft little brow for the next 20 years or so. I wonder if my mom felt that way about me. I wonder if she thought her kisses could bring healing throughout my childhood and growing up years. I know there is nothing quite like a mother's hug or even now a mother's encouraging words. I think that is why so many daughters just crave to hear the words "I'm so proud you're my daughter" from our moms even when we're all grown up. Because you my dear will always be my little baby.
I will always want to be there to make the bad things in this world go away. I'll use my pinky finger, my lips, my mind or my whole body if needed to shield you from harm and heartache. I wish my kisses could be contracts to promise that you'll never be hurt. But alas I don't think that's completely true. I just wanted you to know as long as I'm able and on this earth. I'll keep kissing you, singing you made up lullabies because I don't know the words to the real ones. I'll keep pulling the car over to make sure you're still breathing in the back seat when you're quiet. I'll keep rocking you at 3:00am and doing whatever I can to make your tears go away, even when you're 33.
Labels: Letters to Lucy, Lucy, Mommyhood
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Letters to Lucy - Sugar Sugar
Dear Lucy,
Here I am again. It's like old times. I'm sneaking into the kitchen reaching to the very back of the freezer to find the Ghirardelli chocolate mint squares that your daddy brought me. I was trying not to eat candy and so I put them far away out of my reach. But I could hear them calling to me tonight. They were calling my name so I had to get out of bed to sample them. On the way to the comedy show last night your Auntie Karen brought dinner. We had Pepperidge Farm Milan Chocolate mint cookies. Then at the show I ate eclairs with chocolate frosting for dinner. Then tonight after dinner of pizza and Coca-Cola I stopped at Starbucks and had a large hot chocolate. This is not good.
I'm supposed to be cutting back on all the bad stuff. I'm working out in the mornings at that beach boot camp for mommies. I'm burning calories and slimming down so I can once again wear my old pants. But I can't seem to get a handle lately on the sugar addiction. Yes that's always been a vice in our family. Your nana and grandpa in Georgia are the worst. They raised me with a major candy addiction because our house was filled with it. Everywhere I looked there would be bowls of M & M's or mini Snickers. I so don't want you to inherit this craving that I always seem to have for chocolate. I call it "stress eating" but I must be stressed a lot because I eat it allllllllllllllll the time!
People tell me to go on a sugar fast but then I say, "what would I eat?" I think you're young enough I can master this bad habit before you're old enough to want to eat like mommy. I do realize all my little treats have been getting into my system and feeding you since you were in the womb and now through my breast milk. I bet my breast milk tastes like chocolate. Lucky you! But I read I'm not supposed to feed you any sugar at all until you're at least one. The other day when daddy was gone and I had eaten some chocolate gooey candy I came back to bed. You saw the leftover morsels on my lips and you were just crying out to me for a kiss. So I gave you a big old "chocolate kiss"! Maybe you tasted some of it then? Who knows? But this madness must stop. I don't want to raise you to be 200 pounds and end up on some talk show about childhood obesity. I don't want to be that tree-hugging, granola-eating, Whole-Foods-market, organic-only-eating mom either. If I raise you like that, you'll end up at some other kids birthday party freaking out the first time you eat cake. I'll come home and you'll be on the ceiling. So there has to be a happy medium.
There's no way you're my kid and you won't love the taste of Godiva chocolate covered cherries. They are healing. That is just a fact. But maybe it won't be so abundant around our house? Maybe I'll shop at Trader Joe's sometimes and get some vegetables for you eat? Maybe I can learn to cook healthy food for you? I really would like that. I would like you to be that kid that actually likes salad. I think most lettuce tastes like soft cardboard but that's just me. In this instance we must re-train our brains and start some better habits. I bet every mom sets out this way when her children are so young. That's why I'm breastfeeding. I want you to have the best nutritional start possible. Also I'm not into the guilt you'd give me later if I didn't at least try to nurse you. But I'm also an avid watcher of the food channel. My new challenge is the actually take some of the healthy information I've gleaned from Rachel Ray and Paula Dean and put it into practice. Ok, seriously who are we kidding? You'll find out someday that there's nothing healthy about Paula Dean's down-home southern cooking. That's why it's so good. But I'll keep trying.
My mom was a great cook and she had some awesome southern recipes that started with a stick of butter and a pound of cheese. She fed me the all-American breakfast when I was a child of Flintstones Fruity Pebbles cereal and a Flintstones multi-vitamin and grape Hi-C. Then in my BeeGee lunch box (They were a great band that mommy used to roller skate to her in basement. Roller-skates were these things with 4 wheels...yikes we'll talk later about history like this). I'd have Grape Hi-C juice box, a hostess chocolate cupcake, peanut butter and jelly on white bread or a ham and Kraft cheese sandwich. I never ate the crusts I would throw them away before I got home. When I came home my snacks would be Fruit Roll Ups, Chips Ahoy cookies Oreos, or whatever else sweet was in the house. We didn't have any huge restrictions on what we snacked on. I always felt sorry for those kids. The ones who's mom's only let them snack on fresh fruit like my friend Kelly would come over and eat a whole box of ice cream and binge at my place. When my dad would come home the first thing he would do was reach for the bag of salt and vinegar potato chips and then drink Coca-Cola from the bottle in the fridge. We weren't allowed to do that but I'd sneak drinks from the bottle anyway when I thought no one was looking. It was a big 2 liter bottle and my dad just drank right from it. I know it's gross but he worked hard all day and no one questioned him. He'd stand in the kitchen and talk to my mom and me about our days munching on potato chips. It was a fun treat when he'd take me to the convenience store sometimes to pick up Salt and Vinegar chips and a video rental. So what do I love to eat now? You guessed it...Salt and Vinegar Chips and M & M's. It's a dream come true when I'm suffering from PMS. I hope you don't suffer from that my dear. But if you do, that'll combo will do ya right up. Sweet and salty never fails. Oh what am I saying? You're not going to eat that stuff. You're going to munch on carrot sticks and other organic specialties that are overpriced at these gourmet markets because we're all convinced that the food they tell us is "organic" is healthier.
I was so stressed today I told your daddy I needed some "mommy time." I was driving around and then I turned into the McDonald's drive through. I thought of you as I ordered my chicken McNuggets. I thought, "I don't want Lucy to like fast food! I don't want her to end up like me with my eating. It's terrible!" I have this relationship with comfort foods from my childhood. It's simple. I find them comforting. I'm sure I could find a way to make something else comforting but I must confess to you I absolutely love McDonalds Chicken McNuggets and their Coca-Cola. I'm also a sucker for a beef mexi-melt at Taco Bell? So should I deprive you of those joys when you are young? I don't know. Am I a bad mom if I don't let you try it? Am I a bad mom if I let you eat it too much and then you become a terrible eater like me? I was raised on "Restaurant Row" as kid. It was McDonald's, Burger King and Long John Silver's on Michigan Ave. I loved all three. I loved going with mommy to Burger Chef too. We had some fun times there.
I try to cook honey but honestly I'm not the best at it "on the fly". I just buy sort of pre-made meals and then eat them on the couch like I did tonight. Dad was gone so I got out the "Stroganoff Steak" and put it in the microwave. It was meant to be served with veggies and some noodles. But I ate it right out of the box it was heated up in. On a scale of 1-10 it was a good solid 6. I don't know the solution. But I've been eating dinners like this for years. When I was single and bored I'd go to the grocery store and by cheap caviar, crackers, expensive cheese and prosciutto and pate. Don't ask me why I'd buy that combination of foods. Maybe I was having my own little party and I wanted to make a platter? I don't know but it was good at the time. But when you grow into eating solid foods I can't have you eating meat out of a box or liver pate on crackers for dinner. I also can't have you eating all the sugar cereal I'm so in love with. I've started buying Gorilla Crunch at Trader Joe's to transition from the Cookie Crisp cereal.
Well I'm trying honey. I really am.
I love you,
Mom
Labels: eating habits, Letters to Lucy, Lucy, Mommyhood, nutrition, sweets
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Oh Baby, Baby
Remember the immortal words of Britney Spears' pop single "Oh Baby Baby, What am I supposed to do?" Who would have thought she'd be taking those lyrics literally as a full-fledged mom of two small children? It's been the talk of Hollywood with the custody battle between Britney and Kevin Federline. I never thought I'd be rooting for Kevin as the better parent but with the recent events surrounding Brit's behavior, he seems to be the lesser of the evils. How sad. Since becoming pregnant with our own little starlet my view of the Hollywood jet-setting parents has become more scrutinizing. I'd like to think these children should be cared for in the same loving manner as any child anywhere would be.
I believe celebrity parents are getting a pass and who is it hurting? After all, they're just kids and they don't care if Mommy is on the cover of magazines and all over television, especially if she's all drugged up at the photo shoot and stealing clothes as in Britney's case. Instead of holding her accountable as an unfit parent, the media decided to make a spectacle of the incident and keep digging deeper for more mistakes. They called her old assistant to get the details of her late night parties. They didn't do this to help her but to sell the story. When is it enough? If this type of woman were your neighbor anywhere else would you not report her to child services? Would you not care what her post-baby abs looked like? It's getting ridiculous the way we're treating celebrity parents such as Nicole Ritchie who will be pregnant in prison and others with kid gloves. No wonder many stars have moved their families outside of Hollywood. Michael Douglas and his family live in the Caribbean. Demi Moore bought a ranch in Idaho and many others have followed that
trend. Is that the answer? Abandon ship? Or is it that we start taking these situations with celebrity parents who are unfit as serious and getting them help. And I'm not talking 30 days in a posh rehab center.
The best punishment for someone like Britney would be that she would be forced out of the media's watchful eye, banned from producing more records and doing more photo shoots until she gets her act together as a mom. I think we as a culture have made a mockery of motherhood when it comes to these careless, party-loving parents in Hollywood. People magazine brags when a new mom is out at a "Club Premier" 3 weeks after giving birth calling her "A Modern Day Glam Mom!" What about the rest of us up at 3:00 AM breastfeeding who haven't showered in 4 days?
As Christians what is our responsibility, if any, to these pop culture nightmares and how we react to them? Do we just pretend Hollywood and all its debacles don't exist and mind our own business? Do we pray for them? Do we believe our prayers would be fruitful to people that seem so lost? I myself am living here in the thick of it and find that I am getting desensitized to the severity of the possible dangers of these "Glam Babies" might face. I pray I can have a more compassionate heart to take time to pray.
I'm not sure what the answer is but I believe it's important that we as Christians pose the question. What do we do?
We're concerned for children in other countries because they're far worse off than we American's are. I hope we can be concerned for children out here in La La land when we find out their parents are on drugs and neglecting their basic needs as well. It's not the charmed life the E Network makes it out to be.
These are real kids not movie characters and for their sake I pray we take that fact seriously.
Labels: Mommyhood, Parenting, pop culture, The Chronicle
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Happy New Year to Me...Me and Lucy McGehee
Ok admit it, New Year's Eve is anti-climactic. It's this overrated so-called holiday where most of us just make grandiose plans to compensate for the fact that we're obsessing about all we want to accomplish in the new year and all we didn't get done in the one that's passing. We paint on our "Party Smiles" and go to some crowded place and toast with everyone else while secretly wishing we were somewhere else and in some cases with someone else. I know this because for years I've struggled more on this day than any other. It was the cause of many "break downs" evaluating my life and where I was on the journey or my case "Rat Race". If I was single I wished I was married when I was married I wished for a baby and so on. I made 5 pages of detailed resolutions last year in every category of my life from Spiritual to physical and then I lost the notebook. I know I wanted to have a baby in 2007 and also lose 10lbs among other desires. Well this past year I gained 40lbs and one 10.6 oz baby girl.
Instead of going to some lavish party I spent this New Year's Eve with my new daughter. It was me and Lucy McGehee from morning till night. It's actually 5:01AM as I write this. Daddy had to go to Texas so I decided to treat this like a "Snow Day" back when I was a kid. I didn't draw the curtains, I didn't get out of my pj's and Lucy and I had a grand old time watching Lifetime Movies and the Food Channel drifting in and out naps on the couch. It was truly glorious.
Finally at about 4:30 I decided I'd venture out to get us some munchies (ok she's breastfeeding but I didn't want to leave her out of the decision making process. After all she's 9 weeks old). I have to admit most of our trips involved daddy basically doing all the heavy lifting when it comes to car seats, baby slings and strollers. I don't even know how to use our stroller yet unless it's already set up and the baby sling hurts my back. I bought this "wrap" contraption but it's a total mess and when I tried it out it looked like a bad unsafe scarf swaddled around my body and no baby would want to come near it and I don't blame them. I can't believe I spent $70 dollars on that thing just because Tori Spelling had one for her baby! But I was getting hungry so I vowed to myself I could make this trip out alone. I got Lucy in her little "Bear" blanket that I'm sure causes heat rash with all that fur bundled around her in southern California, but I'm a first time mom and I'm obsessed with her being too cold. I got her to the car and with the help of my trusty friend the pacifier she got in her car seat and buckled up and it only took 20 minutes. I'm learning, ok? I spent 10 minutes speculating if the car seat was properly in place before I drove off. Then I realized I didn't bring her sling so I'd have to find a way to carry her in the store. I called my husband in a panic and he told me I could take that car seat thing and put it in the basket. With 10 more minutes of manipulation I got the car seat out and into the shopping cart. I didn't know how I'd fit anything else in there like groceries but I had the baby and we were off. Already I was exhausted. Note to self for first trip out with baby do NOT Venture to the Supermarket at 5:00pm on New Year's eve to fight cart traffic with hundreds of angry savages, I mean shoppers. People were literally jamming the aisles and fighting over the free samples of "Pomegranate Juice" like it was crack cocaine. Ok I was one of them, but that's not the point. I had to show my child the importance of free samples when we shop. It was a mad house and as soon as I'd grab something I'd have to literally stuff it in my purse because her car seat took up the entire cart. This older lady was laughing at me and giving me that "Oh you're new at this " look. She said," Honey, don't you know you can install that car seat on the top of your basket?" I was thinking "Thanks lady, but since you didn't offer to show me how to do it and you're just sitting there smirking I'm going to run you over with my cart and keep stuffing salami in my purse like a shoplifter!" I didn't have time to try to re-install her seat. She was sleeping like a champ through the madness. You'd think these people were preparing for Y2K, whatever that was!
So after an hour of standing in line and $56.00 later I was back in the car driving home. But I kept thinking the car seat wasn't installed correctly so I kept pulling over to make sure the baby wasn't going to fall out of the back seat when I was driving. My cell phone died so I was a nervous wreck. Then I realize it's 7:00pm and my kid hasn't eaten since 3:30. This is a huge no-no and now I was concerned I was starving my child. She's fat as a butterball turkey weighing over 13lbs at 9 weeks but nonetheless, I was convinced she was starving. I, of course, didn't pack any bottles of milk so I was forced to pull into a Fat Burger parking lot and pull the child out of her car seat, which she hated, and into the front passenger seat and breast-feed her in the most awkward of positions. She's so adaptable she fell for it and ate happily for about 5 minutes. I love this kid. She has no idea what she's in for. Then I decided this was ridiculous so I stopped mid-feeding and put her back and drove home to finish feeding her there.
I pulled into my parking garage and realized I had one baby, one diaper bag, one purse and 3 bags of groceries to carry. How did women do this? I don't have a nanny like I always dreamed I would or a personal shopper so it was just me and Lucy and the garage. She was just chillin' in the back seat so I stood back there trying to prioritize what items were refrigerated and needed to be taken inside ASAP. Just then my neighbor Ben pulls in with his friend and I flag him down asking if he can help me. His hands were full of pizza and snacks but he said he'd drop all that off and be right back to help me. I got Lucy out of her seat and began to hold her and sing to her in the garage. I don't know the lyrics to any nursery songs so I usually make something up or revert to something by REO Speed Wagon or Journey because they were comforting to me in my teen years. As I was holding her and Ben was carrying my groceries I started to smell something like burnt popcorn but worse. I didn't know what it was but it was getting worse. Was it Ben? Did something in my bags spoil? The smell became more like bad food and as I examined my bags with my sweet daughter in my hands I felt something warm on the outside of her clothes and I looked down and let's just say "Lucy was expressing herself in free form letting me know her bodily functions were well intact!" This was an intense and large "expression" of her bowel movement abilities and only to be matched when she did the same thing last week on Mommy's new white bed sheets while she was in the middle of diaper changing and talking on the phone. Rookie Mistake.
This foul-smelling explosion was all over the place and I didn't know what to do. Of course then the phone rings and it's Ron and I'm panicking because she always chooses to do these things when he's not home. He calmly told me to take Lucy out of her clothes and get her in the bath. But I hadn't fed her enough. She wasn't bothered by any of this. She's just laying there with the same grin that lady had in the grocery store as if this was somehow funny to her. Ron's telling me" Kerri you can't feed her first. That's gross. You have to wash her off!" I'm saying "Are you sure? Can't I call a neighbor to do this for me? I can't handle this type of clean up alone!" So now I've got the wet slippery baby fully clothed in one hand, phone in the other, on my way to the bathroom but stopping off to warm a bottle of breast milk in the kitchen. I get her in the bathroom and lay her down on the floor on a towel. I realize the bottle is burning in the warmer so I go to leave her and get that. I run back and Ron's talking me through this as if it's a 911 call. He's saying "Kerri, first you need to undress the child. Then you run the water in the baby tub. Then you put the baby in the baby tub using both hands." I got flustered and hung up on him. Where was my mother when I needed her? Georgia, that's way across the country because she thinks California is going to fall into the sea.
So it was just me and Lucy McGehee. I got her bottle and placed it on the counter and it was now scalding hot. I ran the cold water in the sink and dropped it in there. Then I got the tub water all nice and ready and it became readily apparent that I myself had to use the bathroom facilities in a huge way and if I didn't do that immediately we'd both be in trouble. I was after all in a bathroom so this was no problem. Then I realized that the toilet in this bathroom had been broken and was unusable until Ron came home to fix it. Of all days the toilet had to malfunction today! I was like a little kid about to have an "Accident!" I know how Lucy felt but she luckily had a diaper and the luxury of knowing someone would be there to clean her up. I was on my own and it was getting worse. I made a choice and left my laughing child on the towel and bolted like OJ Simpson in the airport to the other bathroom for the fastest trip of my life. I know, I know. Never leave the child, bad parenting 101. I was desperate and she luckily isn't old enough to roll yet. I came back relieved to see her still lying there in all her glory and the smell was so bad it was probably offending all my neighbors. I took off her clothes trying not to get too nauseous at the site and odor. I couldn't stand it so I again took her outfit and hurled it towards our washer next door because I didn't want it in the same room with us. She being the trooper that she is was calm through all of this. The Lord has blessed me with a mellow child because it was the only way we'd both survive. I got her in the tub and did the best I could bathing her and making sure she was all cleaned up. It was quite the scene because my sweater was soaked so I ended up tossing that off as well. So it's me in my sweat pants and nursing bra and her in her bath splashing up a storm kicking like Esther Williams. I tell her she's obviously gifted and already learning to swim. I picture her college scholarship in swimming and allow her to continue soaking me. I take her out finally and drop her all bundled up on the couch and realize she still hasn't eaten enough and now it's 8:10pm.
I managed to find the strength to get a diaper on her and collapse onto the couch and got her to breast-feed with the sounds of "Bobby Flay's Boy Meets Grill" on the TV in the background. Within 5 minutes little Miss Lucy fell fast asleep. I couldn't help but smile. She had a big fat grin on her chubby little face. None of this had phased her at all why should I be surprised? She's just like her daddy "If you feed her and cuddle her she's good to go!" Life is simple when you're 9 weeks old. I could learn a lesson from this girl. We spent the rest of the evening sleeping and watching a Food Channel Marathon. At about 10:00pm when she was done with another feeding, instead of drifting off to sleep as she should have, Lucy decided to perk up and play because she knew mommy needed to laugh and have someone to celebrate with at midnight. I've had a lot of "Midnight celebrations and New Year's kisses", but this one topped them all. We called Daddy on the cell phone and sang and laughed together and Me and Lucy McGehee rang in the New Year just the two of us. Yes, it would have been better if her daddy was with us but he was out making a living for our family so I could enjoy more nights of pure joy and real simple celebration like this one. Not once did I make any resolutions or think about the size of my checkbook or waistline. Me and Lucy McGehee laid on the couch as I munched on peanut butter pretzels and ice cream and soda and she with her breast milk. We were both truly undoubtedly content. Me with my hair frazzled in a sloppy bun and no make up to speak of looked like the most beautiful thing in the world to one young lady and I knew it. Thank you God for miracles like this and giving me hope in all the New Year's past that you know you had a plan for me and it was beyond what I could imagine. You're good God, you're really good! Please help me to remember that as my one real resolution in 2008! You ARE GOOD! Thank you so much!
Labels: Lucy, Mommyhood, New Years
