It’s obvious to everyone in our family that Gabby already has her daddy wrapped around her little finger.
Watching him holding her, interacting with her her is one of the highlights of my life right now. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him this happy and fufilled. When he talks to her and she smiles at him, it takes my breath away. I never thought I’d give him a daughter, I never imagined I’d be sitting on the couch and I’d hear him singing to his “sweet pea”.

She loves her daddy. She’s so comfortable with him. Everyday when he comes home from work, he picks her up and starts talking to her. She smiles and coos and gets so excited she squeels. Ah! It’s the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever seen. Eventually, she’ll get tired and start yawning. Tony will sit her on his lap and gently run his fingers over her hair. She doesn’t even fight it, within minutes, she’s peacefully sleeping on her daddy’s lap.

Last night I told him that I will forever have that image burned in my mind. And as she gets older, I’ll always look at her and remember the time that she would fall asleep on her daddy’s lap and I’ll remember just how beautiful life was.
And I pray it always will be.

Breastfeeding… It’s all fun and games until you get Mastitis.
My right tit is hard as a rock, it has red spots all over it and it’s about 2 times the size of my left tit. Fun. I’ve been doing all of the home treatments they’ve told me to do and it’s still just as bad as it was last night, which scares me because I was read what they might have to do if there is an abscess.
If an abscess is present, it must be drained. After injection of local anesthetic, the doctor may drain an abscess near the surface of the skin either by aspiration with a needle and syringe or by using a small incision. This can be done in the doctor�s office or Emergency Department.
If the abscess is deep in the breast, however, it may require surgical drainage in the operating room. This is usually done under general anesthesia in order to minimize pain and completely drain the abscess. Antibiotics and heat on the area are also used for abscesses.
I almost passed out. Seriously.
Ah, the joys of motherhood.
On a positive note, I weighed in at Weight Watchers today and I lost 3 pounds exactly. So that’s 34 since Gabby was born and 9.6 since I started WW.
Come to think of it, I wonder how much this abscess weighs?

I try to eat breakfast when Gabby takes her morning snooze, but I usually get busy with “things around the house” (you know, things like “blogging” or “reading blogs”) I had put a load of laundry in the washer and decided to make a bowl of oatmeal while she was still sleeping. I put the water on to boil, grab a bowl, a spoon, a package of oatmeal and I stood by the stove waiting…
As soon as the water started to boil, I could feel my milk start coming down.
Nooooooooooo. Because when the milk starts coming down, that means Gabby will start crying.
So, I’m standing there at the stove, bowl in hand waiting. I was wearing a shirt that’s so small on me, my boobs hang out the bottom and I did NOT have a bra on. My milk starts pouring in. It starts streaming down my stomach, down my leg (no, I had no pants on) and splatting onto the floor.
Dear God, give me two more minutes…
The water finally boils, I pour it in the bowl, try not to slip on my milk that’s now in puddles on my kitchen floor and head for the table.
“WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
Damn it. She wants to eat first. And since she is The Boss of me, I have to follow her orders.
I was *this* close to enjoying a good breakfast, half dressed, covered in my own milk.
Damn.

Ethan: Mom, you look soooooooo beautiful today.
Me: Aw, thank you. Is it because I’m wearing new clothes and not the same ones I’ve been wearing everyday?
Ethan: It’s everything, mom. It’s your pants, your shirt, your cute sandals, and your makeup looks beautiful.
Me: Ethan Michael, you just made mommy’s day. Thank you!
Ethan: Now can I have that $20.00 you owe me?

But you know what? I’ll take a compliment any way I can get it these days. Seriously. If someone told me my breath didn’t stink too bad, I’d get on my knees and kiss their feet.
I’m in serious need of a “day of beauty”. I haven’t had a haircut since March, my feet are dry, crusty, toenails unpolished, my skin is dry, my face is starting to break out, I smell like spit up titty milk most of the time. So I don’t even care if the kid was just trying to get the money I “borrowed” from his piggy bank to buy lunch because I was too lazy to drive to the atm, I am just glad someone told me I look beautiful.

Even if he didn’t mean it.
Even if I really look like old, crusty, ass.
Still.
Now, you may proceed to tell me nice things, even if you don’t mean them. Things like “I kinda LIKE the bumps in your fat ass.” Or something like that.
We’ll be spending the day at my sisters house near the beach, because it’s going to be 105 freakin degrees out here in the desert, but I refuse to complain because that would make me look like a giant asshole considering what the people in Florida are dealing with right now.
Happy Labor day!

Today my baby girl is one month old.
One month.

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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.