I Hope This Works...

Here is my first attempt at using my new flip camera. Taking the video is super easy, uploading may be another story.

Welcome to Motherhood

After what seemed like the longest pregnancy ever, followed by the longest labor ever (20 plus hours people), my son was finally born on July 2, 2010. He was 8 pounds, 13 ounces, and 22 inches.





It's been just over a week since he entered the world and man, oh, man what a week it has been. Talk about a total shock to the system. Of course, sleep is a thing of the past. Although, he actually is a really good baby and hardly ever cries. The problem is he is almost too good, he is very sleepy and getting him to wake up for feedings has been a challenge. Then there was a bout of jaundice, nursing difficulties, learning the hard way that you have to be very fast when changing a newborn boy's diaper, learning the right way to swaddle (meaning the way he likes to be swaddled), trying to eat one-handed, hell just trying to shove anything into your mouth while you can.

Even though the past week has not been easy, it was been wonderful. It is just so crazy to look down at this little human being and know that he is part you and part your husband and that he depends on you entirely and you love him completely and he returns the feeling. Speaking of husbands, Captain America has been great. He's been getting my food, taking care of the dogs, and doing all the non-baby things that I can't do because I'm busy nursing. He's even changed a few poopy diapers and managed to stop gagging while doing so. Am I the only one not grossed out by newborn baby poop? I think my dogs are way grosser than the baby.

Captain America goes back to work tomorrow and I'm very nervous/sad/scared. It will be just me and the baby and the bullies all day long. I'm definitely going to miss the help and just the human interaction. I'm sure I'll be fine but it will be weird being the only adult in the house. Wish me luck!

Help Needed

I need a cleaning service. And not just the old-fashioned, we clean your house, kind of service. I need somebody to show up at my house every so often and explain to my husband that the house is actually dirty and needs to be cleaned. My husband thinks I'm crazy because I'm always wanting to clean the house. "It's dirty!" I cry, "We can't live like this, it's slovenly!" And he responds that I'm nuts and that the house is fine and that I need to calm down.

He just doesn't understand. We have two dogs with short hair that is like freaking velcro. It sticks to everything. The amount of dusting and vaccumming required to keep the dog hair at bay is much more than the typical non-dog household. I don't mind the cleaning. Our house isn't all that big, it really does not take me much time to clean the entire thing. I just want some acknowledgment that the house is dirty and that I am not crazy because I'm vacuuming for the third time in a week or that I've washed our bedspread twice in a span of 10 days.

Since my husband doesn't believe me that the house is dirty, I need someone to come over and explain to him that, yes, it is very dirty and I am not crazy for wanting to clean.

Labor And Delivery Fail

Today I failed at the whole labor and delivery thing, epically failed. Like got sent home from the hospital fail.

I woke up this morning and thought my water had broken. I won't go into details but a certain sequence of events led me to believe that this was true. So I called my doctor, yanked Captain America out of work and headed down to the hospital.

We walked into the hospital with all of our bags and stuff, excited and ready to have a baby. We walked out about two hours later, with all of our bags and stuff, looking like idiots. My water had not actually broken (and no I did not pee in my bed), I wasn't having contractions, I was sent home.

I was so frustrated walking out of the hospital. I am scheduled to be induced on Thursday and I really do not want to be induced. I was so excited that things were happening on their own and then, nothing. And to make things even better the nurse who did my ultrasound totally made fun of my tattoo.

I was laying on the bed and she puts the goo on my belly to start the ultrasound and notices my tattoo on my hip. She says "Oh!" with disgust. "That's, um, pretty." Ok thanks nurse lady, I realize that I have this totally lame tattoo on my hip that I got in college. I thought it was soooo cool at the time, I was such a rebel with my tattoo.

When I was in college, I really wanted a tattoo, any tattoo, it didn't matter. But I couldn't think of anything to get. So I ended up getting my sorority's symbol, a crescent moon. And I added a star to make it cute. Then someone asked me if I was Muslim. "No," I replied, "Why?" The person commented, "oh because your tattoo looks like the Nation of Islam symbol." Crap, I realized that a crescent moon with one star totally looked like the Nation of Islam symbol. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but I'm Catholic! It just didn't make any sense. So I added some more stars to it and now it looks like this:

That is my artistic rendering of my tattoo and my nod to Hyperbole and a Half, a favorite blog of mine (even if she doesn't post very often). I am definitely not posting a picture of the actual tattoo. So here I am, no baby and a very bold reminder that I have a lame tattoo. Luckily no one ever sees the damn thing. Maybe one day, I'll have it covered up with a really cool tattoo and finally be the bad ass that I was meant to be. Instead of just another sorority girl with a crappy tattoo.

Turtle Update

The other day I found a turtle in my backyard. I thought it was dead first but it turned out to be alive. Captain America wasn't home at the time of my discovery but when he got home he fed the turtle some fruit and decided he needed to find it's owner.

The neighbors across the street informed us that our new little friend is the "famous lost turtle of our neighborhood." Apparently, about 4 years ago, the people living in the house next door to us had two turtles and lost one when they moved. The lost turtle roamed the backyards on our side of the street. Our neighbors next door had been taking care of the turtle, feeding it and giving it water.

When we found the turtle the next door neighbors were in the process of moving. So my husband goes next door and says, "hey we found your turtle." Instead of being happy that we found their turtle, they respond, "um, well, um, he's not really ours, um, we're moving, so, um, yeah." Um yeah, they weren't taking the turtle back.

I know they put the turtle in our backyard on purpose. There is only concrete on the side where our house meets theirs. I know that turtle didn't push his way through the fence and then trek all the way over to our grass. I would put money that they put the turtle over in our yard so they wouldn't have to worry about it when they move. So now we have a turtle. Captain America calls him Mr. Turtle, I call him Albert, and Mickey is scared to death of him. She spends her time outside stalking him.

My Aunt is supposed to be taking custody of Albert. But she has yet to call me back to confirm this. Aunt? Aunt? Are you out there? Your turtle awaits you.

Panic Attack

I had a minor freak out the other day. Not about the impending baby (which, by the way, is still not here yet) but about internet security. My household has had a couple security threats lately (nothing major, thank goodness) and I started to panic about who could read my blog and if they could figure out where I live and such. Not that a lot of people read my blog, I'm pretty sure the majority of readers are either family or close friends. So I made my blog private. But then I was sad, I really like blogging. I really enjoy writing, even if it is about silly little things like my dogs or finding a turtle in my backyard. I'm not exactly in the most creative profession so the blog affords me a tiny creative outlet.

Plus, I like to go back and read my entries. Not because I'm obsessed with myself but because I like to see how I thought about certain situations and how my feelings may have changed. I also like to look at old pictures of fun times.

So, I'm back to having my blog public again. But I'm taking some security measures. Instead of signing my posts with my real name, I'm going to start signing with a pen name. Which for now is Mrs. Bulldog. My friend Rogue gave me this name on her blog and I can't think of anything else. Plus I love bulldogs. But I must clarify the name is not because I look like a bulldog, I don't, I hope. Bulldogs are very headstrong and stubborn. I think I have these qualities, so for now I will be Mrs. Bulldog unless I think of something else. Plus, most of you know my real name. And a handful of you probably even know that I was named after a Kennedy.

I also worry that people in my legal community and/or clients will read my blog. I'm pretty sure that this blog is not interesting enough to attract people who do not actually know me but you never know. I was a little worried about people in my professional life reading about how I want to hit my husband in the head with a frying pan over the mail or how I am obsessed with cookies. But I figure, these people must know that I have a life outside of the office and that life can get a little wacky at times. Every so often I will mention work in passing in my blog but mostly I keep the two very, very separate. So, another change will be no mention of work except that I am an attorney and I go to work. I'm sure there will be stories to come of being a working mom, but those will center more around juggling a baby and getting to the office in one piece, not the actual work I do.

I am also going to stop referring to my husband by name. Instead, I shall call him Captain America. I will call him this because this was his nickname in law school. I have no idea how he got the nickname but he is very American and he thinks he's the captain of our household so the nickname should work. The baby will just be Baby for now, I'll have to meet him before I can give him a nickname.

So there is my very long diatribe about my internet paranoia. Thanks for sticking around if you made it this far! Now, I'm off to search for cookies.