Feel the burn

I'm so excited that Lost is back on tonight. While it stinks that there won't be many episodes this season, it's so much better than watching ultimate cage fighting. Cause, really, when J turns on the UFC, I really have nothing to say when he asks "If you don't want to watch this, what else is on?" So then I watch idiots beat each other into higher states of idiocy, and that makes me feel disappointed in myself.

Lil J was up from about 1:30 to 4:45 last night. But that means he'll nap a lot today, right? Right?!?

Make like a tree, and get out of here

Lil J and I just got back from Target, and it was not quite the picnic of a trip. He started crying when I stopped to look for coffee creamer (which I never found. What kind of store doesn't carry creamer? What do they put in their coffee? Milk? Heathens), and he didn't stop until we got about 2 minutes from the house. Ah well. You win some, you lose some. But I did get annoyed by this old woman in Target who stopped to tell me I must be holding him too much if he cries like that. Yeah, I hold something too much: my tongue, which is what that old coot should learn to do. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Gladys.

Something suddenly came up

My Mom came to town yesterday, so we took Lil J to the mall and had a delightful time. He only cried when he got hungry, but once he got some milk, he was back to his normal self (which includes a lot of looking around and making faces that seem to say "I'm not quite sure what you people think you're doing, but I'm willing to withhold judgment...FOR NOW."). I was happy to get out and get some fresh mall air (mmm...Cinnabon) and Mom got to see her 8th grandson AND go to Yankee Candle, so everybody won.

Did I mention that we got a new tv last week? It's one of those wide-screens, and we've found that it sometimes stretches the picture a little horizontally. And I am loving it!! Seeing the blonde girl on Chuck looking like a size 8 instead of 2 is so making me feel better about this extra baby weight. Thank you, Samsung.

Who's a little monkey man?

I got The Happiest Baby on the Block from the library on Friday, and I've found it very interesting and helpful. There have been a couple times this weekend where I actually got Lil J to stop crying! Yay! Of course, he rewarded us by having a massive poop blow-out that went all the way up his sleeper last night. Holy cow, that was stunning. We seriously took him upstairs to change him and stood there for a full minute just dumbfounded by the sheer breadth of that bowel movement. It was as if he squirted his entire body weight! Thank goodness for absorbent diapers.

Al Rokerama

We got a new tv this weekend and, as usual, I have no idea how to work it. I couldn't even get it to turn on this morning, so I just started pressing buttons until it came on. Unfortunately, it won't change channels now, so I'm going to be stuck watching NBC until J gets home. The 10 o'clock hour of the Today show and Martha Stewart! Argh!! Somebody save me!!!

It just hit me that I could turn the tv off. Ha! Right.

The case of the disappearing spitwad

So yesterday I was holding Lil J in my lap so that he was facing me, and after making one of those scrunchy "I'm about to poop, toot or spew" faces, he let out a big ol' spit up. I saw it come out of his mouth, but when I went to wipe it up (with the hem of my sweatshirt because I'm classy like that), I couldn't find it anywhere. His sleeper wasn't wet, it wasn't on my pants, and even the chair and carpet were clean. So I figure one of three things happened: either Lil J sucked it back up (because he's a boy and is therefore innately disgusting when it comes to his bodily fluids), it was intercepted by aliens, or I fell asleep while it dried and never realized it. Very strange. But if it turns out all of his spit-ups disappear like this, I'm not going to complain. In fact, I'd request his poops do the same. Word.

Slider, you stink

Lil J has apparently decided he's too old to nap anymore, so the last couple days have basically been either me feeding him or him crying. He actually sleeps pretty well at night, but I keep wondering if he's getting enough sleep every day. This one magazine/ad I got from Enfamil said that babies his age should be getting 15 to 16 hours every day. Pfft. Yeah, right. Those kids are being fed whiskey with their formula.

I get older, but they stay the same age

I've discovered it's practically impossible to watch an entire two-hour movie all the way through when you've got a 5-week-old, but I managed to see Pan's Labyrinth yesterday (over the course of 7 hours). What a bizarre but cool movie. I really liked it, but it was another one of those where I was sitting there watching certain scenes thinking "This is obviously a symbol of something, but I have no idea what." And that kind of cluelessness is why I never got an advanced degree in English.

It's all snowy and freezing outside right now. I had thought about going to CVS today, but I think Lil J and I will stay inside and discuss radical politics instead. Down with the man!

A twisty bobcat kind of pretzel

Lil J and I had a very important milestone yesterday--it was the first time I took him to Target by myself and, happily, he did great! I didn't really think he'd be awful or anything, but I was a little worried that he'd start crying at some point and I wouldn't know what to do . But he was a total champ. He even made a point of looking cute for a nice grandmother who stopped us in the granola bar section. As much as I loved our little excursion, I'm not taking him out this weekend because it is stinking cold out there. I believe the wind chill is something like minus ten. Ridiculous. I'm no Eskimo. I'm sorry, Inuit.

Menoplause? I'm not saying that

Is there anything cuter than the baby exhalation/snore? I just had the little guy sleeping on my chest, and he started doing that, and I almost woke him up to tell him how adorable he was being. Luckily, I restrained myself. Well, to be totally honest, I got distracted by the idiots on The Price Is Right. I mean, really. I'm not saying I know the price of a Dodge, a wine armoire or a bottle of Oxy Clean, but I do know enough not to trust the opinions of total strangers seated in the audience. $700 for a silver tea set? Come on.

Wow. I am turning into one of those people. Disturbing. Now I must go watch Robert Wagner inform me about reverse mortgages. Excuse me.

I hit her in the eye! I hit her in the eye!

Lil J had a very tough day yesterday. At lunchtime he whacked himself in the eye and started screaming bloody murder, so I took him to the pediatrician, who confirmed that the poor kid had scratched his cornea. Yowch! So he's on some antibiotic eye ointment, but I have to take him back to the doctor's tomorrow to see how he's healing. And he is NOT going to enjoy that either, I'm sure. Having a stranger 5 times your size putting dye on your abraded cornea cannot be considered fun for anyone. But, really, he's been a trouper. One thing I dig about babies is how it hasn't occurred to them yet to milk injuries for all they're worth. I think infants actually come off pretty tough most of the time.

He'd make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark

This is going to sound either insane or brilliant, but I've started playing this game with myself when Lil J is having a colic-y crying fit where I think of horrible ways to die that I've seen in horror movies and then I ask myself if I'd rather die like that or keep listening to the baby cry. For instance, would I rather be rolled around on my ceiling while being stabbed or listen to Lil J's sad sobs? Would I rather be smacked with a chainsaw in the midsection or have to endure the baby's helpless cries? I gotta admit, most of the time I'd rather be with the baby, but for some reason, it gives me something to think about besides how horrible it is to listen to a baby cry for any extended period of time. And I don't blame the poor little guy one bit. I know he's just trying to express some sort of frustration or hurt. I just wish I knew what he was trying to tell me. If somebody could actually invent a baby translator, I'd be ever so grateful. Thanks so much.

Play with you no fun, Dr. Jones

I'm developing a theory that J.R.R. Tolkein must have had kids because he totally based hobbits on babies. For instance, Lil J generallly has breakfast, second breakfast, elevensees, etc.... And he loves to sleep, he doesn't wear shoes and he avoids fighting orcs as much as possible. Just try to find holes in this theory! Just try!

I'm so relieved because he's been crying so much lately, but I walked him around for half an hour and he finally fell asleep. I don't know if he's techincally colic-y or not, but he sure does cry a lot. I suspect it's because he's figured out that it's been a month now and we're not putting him back in the womb. That's got to be hard to accept.

Vera said that?

Somebody tried to steal my mother-in-law's car last night! We all woke up at about 3:15 because it was Lil J's feeding time, and while he was going into the nursery, J noticed some police lights flashing outside. So he went to the window to see what was what, and the police were outside his parents' house and their car was sitting in the middle of the street with the windows busted out! They hadn't heard anything, but apparently what happened was that some hooligan stole a truck then dropped it off on our street and tried to steal another car to get away in. But, lo and behold, this car thief didn't realize that all the members of J's family get J's oldest brother (who owns a mechanic shop) to booby-trap their cars so they can't be stolen. Ta ha! Take that, you societal leech.

Funagi

Yesterday was quite the howl fest here at home. Poor Lil J was just crying and crying all afternoon. I don't know what exactly was bothering him so much because we do try to not antagonize the child welfare people, so we keep him fed, burped and changed. My theory is that he was overly tired, whereas J thought he had gas. Could be both. I know I'm no fun when I'm tired and gassy. But I had this moment yesterday where my sweatpants got caught in the diaper genie, and I couldn't get them out, and I was trying to make sure Lil J wasn't about to fall off the changing table and he was so unhappy, and I immediately thought of that movie Baby Boom with Diane Keaton and how she just disintegrates taking care of that baby at a certain point. It rings so true now. I'm just glad I eventually worked my pants out of the diaper pail because I would have looked pretty silly hauling that thing around the rest of the day. How humiliating.

You bag of mostly water

I believe I slept from about 12:30 to 3:15 last night, then spent the rest of it taking care of Lil J. At some point, I'm going to start showing signs of this sleep deprivation. Like, I figure that once I start driving around town again, I'll be hallucinating and wind up in a parking lot downtown claiming that the seagulls are after me. But it's funny how tired you can be and not really realize it when you're mostly sitting on the couch all day staring at a baby. I do get a disproportionate amount of glee watching How Clean Is Your House on BBC America, I've noticed. That is a disturbing yet hilarious show. I can only assume that these people have serious psychological problems that make them hoard stuff like that, but as long as I don't have to live with them, I don't mind saying that I enjoy watching them be humiliated on not one but two continents. Do you think the British will request reruns of American Gladiator for the BBC? I'm guessing no.

Rubber ducky, you're the one

Part of me actually wants to tune in to watch American Gladiators tonight. Mostly because I saw in a commercial that one of the gladiators is a lady named "Hellga." That's right, Hellga with two L's. That is genius.

We need to give Lil J a bath tonight. He really does not like baths. In fact, he doesn't like it when we change his diapers either, which leads me to believe he's going to be a modest lad. And I'm all for that. I've seen those kids that like to run around their house naked, and I can only imagine the cleanup that must involve at times. Gah.

Le croque monsieur

You know, whenever the hormones get a hold of me and I start to wonder if I'm doing a good job of mothering Lil J (since I so often have the feeling that I know as much about this as I do cellular mitosis), I'm just going to remind myself that I'm doing 200 times better than Britney Spears. Good grief. She is a mess. And she even has millions of dollars to spend on nannies, psychotherapy and vacation. Those poor kids. Sometimes I wonder if the Spears ladies (and I use that word with the utmost amount of sarcasm) would have been better off if they'd never become famous. Like, if they just went to high school in Louisiana, would they at least have waited to get pregnant until after they turned 20 or gotten a good job at Dillard's? Or would they be as equally screwed up as they are now? I guess it's entirely possible they would have just wound up as pregnant meth addicts instead of pregnant cocaine addicts. Six of one....

Hush, little mommy, don't you sing

Some things I've noticed that seem to cause Lil J physical pain: really bright lights, gas bubbles in his tummy, and the sound of my voice singing to him. Heh. Seriously though, every time I break into Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star or the theme music to What Not To Wear, he does get this very skeptical look on his face as if he's trying to say "Really, I appreciate the effort, but you have a ways to go before you take on Broadway." And that's fair. You can't argue with the facts.

And, I swear, he's already started smiling. Is that possible for someone who's 19 days old?