Monthly Archives: August 2004

Oh no, he might be paralyzed!

After seeing Todd Glass on Last Comic Standing 3 last night, I would like to officially declare my love for him. He has the best jokes ever. Like this one…
You know, there are some things certain people can’t say. Like, people with fanny packs… they can’t say “I have an opinion”.

That’s comedy gold, people.

The only thing funnier to me right now is that Mikey saw a bird SLIP AND FALL. I can’t stop laughing everytime I visualize that. Like, I picture the bird SLIPPING AND FALLING on his back and all the other birds pointing and laughing. But THEN the bird pretends like he’s really hurt (kinda like how I do when I slip and fall) so that all the birds who are laughing at him feel like shit because “he’s hurt”.

I haven’t laughed this hard since I read Melly’s latest post.  I love blogs.

ANYWAY.

What was I talking about again? Oh, right!  Last Comic Standing 3. I didn’t pay attention to the format of the show, so I have no idea how it works, but I don’t really care about that. I just hope Todd wins. And if not Todd, it BETTER be Rob Cantrell. (And I’m not just saying that because I think he’s REALLY hot nor am I saying that because I once licked his nipples. I swear! I’m saying it because I’ve seen him perform live 3 times and he KILLED every time. REALLY!)

Bad mommy!

Since I brought my daughter home from the hospital I haven’t had one moment of frustration with her. Not ONE. I have found everything about her to be precious and cute and sweet, because I LOVE HER SO MUCH!!
When she cries? Precious. Poops? Totally precious. When she stares at me at 1am instead of sleeping? The cutest thing in the history of cuteness.
Until last night.
She would not go to sleep unless I was holding her. Everytime I’d lay her down, she’d start fussing, which eventually turned into crying, so I’d have to pick her up again. I did this all night. Something in me snapped. I got angry with her. I started to cry. I was rocking her, but instead of sniffing her hair or kissing her cheeks, I had resentment towards her for not letting me sleep. I couldn’t stop crying.
Finally, around 2am I couldn’t take it anymore. I brought her swing in my room and put her in it. I figured I’d see if that would put her to sleep, then I’d try yet again to put her in her crib. I laid down and waited for her to start crying again. She never did. Until 5am this morning, when I realized I had left her in her swing all night.
I now feel like shit, like the worst mother to have ever lived. Granted, she was sleeping, but I shouldn’t have left her to sleep in there.
And I feel so damn guilty for getting upset with her. She was probably crying because her tummy hurt, or maybe she was just restless and needed me to comfort and love her. Instead, I got mad at her. Every time she looks at me this morning, I cry and I tell her I’m sorry.
I don’t ever want to feel that way about my baby girl ever again. She’s so helpless and innocent. I don’t ever want frustration to get the best of me the way it did last night.
I can’t even stand myself this morning.

CAN A BITCH GET SOME SLEEP?

Last night I was trying to sleep, when I was awoken by THE SOUND OF WELDING in my garage. I looked at the clock and it was ONE IN THE MORNING.
I freaked out. I opened the front door and screamed at Tony.
“What the HELL are you doing? Do you know what time it is?”
Who the hell welds shit at ONE IN THE MORNING?
Pig hunters, I guess.
He tells me he was just “finishing something up” and I tell him,
“YOU’RE A FREAK.”
I was just about to slam the front door, when my 4-ft Selena murderer look alike neighbor comes running up my walk way. She was having a panic attack.
She started begging Tony to call the police because her sons and husband were fighting. She could barely talk, I thought she was going to faint. She said she couldn’t take it anymore and she wanted the police to take them away.
5 minutes later, the cops show up and she goes crazy, screaming and yelling, she opens her front door and her 2 little dogs TAKE OFF down the street. It was hilarious, they were like “We’re getting the HELL out of this house”.
It was the most insane night ever. Needless to say, I didn’t get any sleep last night and it looks like I won’t be getting any sleep this morning because THERE ARE FUCKING GARDENERS MOWING HER LAWN. It’s not even 8am, ON A SATURDAY.
What the hell, man, just… what the HELL?
(ps. would anyone believe me if I said that I decided to climb into bed inspite of the noise from the gardeners and when I tried to lay down, I couldn’t, because there was a GIGANTIC RIFLE laying on my bed??????? Probably not, huh?)

What does washing feet have to do with MAKEUP?

My Avon lady representative just asked me if I’d like to have an in home Avon party. I was about to say “yes” when she had to add that she “gives people a foot bath in a tub with marbles.”
Ok. NO. I had enough of “foot washing” as a child. And besides, that’s just GROSS. I love my friends, but I sure as hell am NOT going to stick my feet in a bucket that their feet were just in.

Miracle

A few minutes after Gabriella was born, the nurse handed her to me. I kissed her and decided to try to feed her. I unbuttoned my hospital gown and brought her to my breast. She latched on immediately. I’ll never forget that moment. There in my arms was my daughter and she looked right at me while she began to eat for the first time in her life from my breast, the milk that would sustain her for the first few months of her life. I couldn’t believe how easily she took to the breast. Both of my boys had trouble in the beginning, learning how to latch on and it was very frustrating. But not with my daughter, she figured it out right away and feeding her has never been frustrating.
Infact, words can not describe what an amazing and fufilling experience it is everytime I sit down to nurse her.

I love how her beautiful little eyes will focus on me while she’s eating and drifting off to sleep. I love the sounds she makes, the coos, the grunts, the gulping, hell, I even love the way she farts while she’s sucking away. It’s the funniest thing in the world.

The love, the sense of importance, the bond I feel when I’m nursing my daughter is one of the most precious gifts in my life.
And let’s be honest here, the fact that I can get out of the shower, run out of the bathroom and start squirting Tony with MILK is pretty damn cool too.

My loss is her gain, or something like that

Gabriella had her first check up today.
My baby girl has already grown an inch and a half and put on 2lbs 3oz. That’s right, my baby already weighs 10.8. She’s in the 100% in the weight category and 75% in height. Doctor told me that if a baby has mantained their birth weight when they come in for their first check up, they’re happy. I have some GOOD milk and I’m proud OF it. (Because, I don’t have much to be proud of these days)
He told me that she is a very relaxed and calm baby and that he can tell she’s very loved. I told him that she IS very loved and has at least 4 people fighting to hold her at any given time. Then he said what I said yesterday…
“You can’t spoil her, so it’s great that she has so many people to hold and love her”.
I asked him if he could put that in writing so I could shove it in my husbands face when he got home from work. See, I was right! Like hardly ever ALWAYS!
I tried to take some pictures of my very big, healthy girl to show off just HOW big and healthy she is, but she wasn’t really in the mood for pictures… (didn’t stop me from taking them, though)

pissed3

pissed1

Not only does the girl have an appetite like mine, apparently, she has my temper as well.

Maybe your momma should have held YOU more often so you didn’t grow up to be SO MEAN!

The next person who tells me I’m “spoiling” my THREE WEEK OLD BABY because I pick her up when she cries is getting kicked in the ribs.
People like MY MOTHER and MY BABY’S DADDY.
I absolutely hate when people tell me that. She’s a newborn, I’m not going to let her scream and cry just so as not to “spoil” her.
I believe in letting a baby “cry it out” at some point. I did it with my boys so they could learn how to put themselves to sleep. But not at this age. She’s still too little.
And what the hell is so wrong with holding my baby anyway? I love her so much, I want her to be close to me. And she loves to be held.
I despise the term “spoiled” when referring to a newborn to begin with. The poor little baby has just been expelled from the uterus, where she was all warm and snug. She was thrust into the world that is foreign to her without a choice in the matter. I don’t blame her for wanting to be close to the only place she’s ever known. That’s not spoiling her, that’s called LOVING AND TAKING CARE OF HER.
I am not going to let my THREE WEEK OLD CHILD scream and cry so that gramma and daddy don’t worry about her being “spoiled.” Oh hell no, I’m not. I’m going to hold my little girl when she cries and I’m going to kiss her on sweet, chubby cheeks and tell her I love her and I’m going to smell her hair while I’m singing to her and I’m going to flip her her daddy off while I’m doing all of those things because he thinks I should have left her in her crib and let her cry herself to sleep.
Ok, maybe I won’t do that last thing, but I WILL give him dirty looks!

May I hem your pants?

I am getting OLD.
Last night, Tony asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I didn’t even have to think about it, I blurted out…
“I WANT A SEWING MACHINE!.
He was a little surprised because normally, I’d say “I don’t want any gifts, just take me out to go dancing and buy me lots of liquor!” ( well, I used to ask for a cash register, but I gave up that dream a loooooong time ago) But because he’s old too, he was only surprised for a few seconds, then he got all excited “Really? A sewing machine? So you can make curtains and stuff?”
“Well, actually, I was thinking more along the lines of making myself really sexy aprons and pot holders, but YEAH, I’LL MAKE CURTAINS TOO!”
Next thing you know, I’ll be making quilts and going to women’s bible study on Tuesday mornings.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
(and I’m totally serious, I really do want a sewing machine. And I think after 24 hours of labor with my daughter, I’m ENTITLED to one!)

I am quite possible the the world’s worst nickname giver to have ever lived

Gabriella now has a nickname.
As of 3am this morning, I now refer to my daughter as “Special Sauce”. I’ve modified it a little because I do not believe it is humanly possible for me speak proper English when conversing with an almost 3 week old baby (who happens to be the CUTEST BABY EVER!). So, I’ve removed the “S” out of special and call her “Peshial sauce”
She is now officially “Mommy’s Peshial Sauce”.
You think she’ll hate me for that when she’s 13? Because this is no passing fad nickname, this is the real thing.
My God, how I love my lil’ Pechal Sauce. And so do her brothers, Butterball and Monkey Butt! The greatest joy of my life right now is watching them love on her. They can’t get enough of her and I can’t get enough of watching them interact with her. They kiss her, talk to her, rub her feet, change her diaper. They tell her how pretty she is, how precious she is and how much they love her, constantly. It’s absolutely beautiful to watch. All of the fears I had about bringing another child into this family, all of the guilt I had for taking attention away from the boys has vanished. They are overjoyed that she is a part of our family and that makes me very happy.