kayla aimee: only slightly neurotic

Overheard In Our House: Baby Edition | Pt 3

"Is that you that stinks? YAY! It is you! You have stinky butt! MOMMY LOVES STINKY BUTT!"

The explanation, lest you think I'm crazy.
(Has that ship already sailed?)

Digestively, Scarlette has more issues than Sports Illustrated. Most of y'all know this because of all that time you spent praying for poop (again, my neverending thanks). This means that I spend my days obsessively charting all of her eating habits/diaper changes and then taking said charts to all of her doctor visits. What, you thought I spent all day on facebook?

It also means that a few times a week, I find myself measuring out baby prune juice and holding my breath that we don't have a relapse. And apparently losing my mind with happiness when we have success, resulting in the above exclamation.

I seriously can't believe I said that.

I talk aloud to myself all the time, it's just that having Scarlette has changed my typical one-sided conversation of "Where did I leave my keys? Why are my keys in the freezer? Do I want to eat this pint of Ben & Jerry's? Yes, I do."

Now there's a constant stream of chatter that sounds like "What's the matter with Mommy's baby? Do you see that silly birdie? What's that silly birdie saying? Is he saying he wants you to sit nicely in the bouncy seat so that mommy can shower because you threw up all over her? Yes he is! Yes he IS saying that! We don't cry at the sound of the shower running. No we don't. We are HAPPY! We are happy that mommy is getting in the shower! Yay for showers! No! No crying! There's no crying in baseball! Or during mommy's shower time! Fine, I'll leave the shower door open so that you can see me."

Y'all too, right?

**In case you were wondering why the Scarlette pictures have been lacking, it's because she's just discovered her clothes and they are fascinating so all of my photos look like this.

*a quick thanks to those of you who bought the blogging e-book! I hope it makes all your blogging dreams come true ;)

Overhead In Our House | New Baby Edition V2

Sadly, I think this time around these need qualifiers so that you don't think our household is totally insane.

• Can you unplug the baby so I can move her? The thing about having a baby hooked up to machines 24/7 is that at some point you start referring to the cords/wires as though they are a part of her. Like you have some sort of crazy Matrix-fied baby.
• I got the booger out on the second try! One of us is having a really hard time using the hand held suction bulb
• Did you know that your mommy is crazy? Actually, that one's been said by both of us a lot.
• Why is there a piece of paper in the car that says NIPPLES? For bottles y'all. For bottles. But I can see where that might really throw off my husband.
• Hey, why does the baby smell like bacon? So, she has to wear this little belt to hold her electrodes on and she sweats like a linebacker under that thing.
• I just caught baby throw up with my hands. With my hands. Jeff's first time experiencing projectile reflux. For some reason, he thought it would be a good idea to try and catch it. Maybe it's some sort of athletic reflex. Luckily, I'm not at all athletic so I just point her at the nearest bare spot on the floor and mop it up afterwards. I'm pretty sure I have the better idea here.

- I have a lot of questions to answer/stuff to post about this week: how we are adjusting, how she is doing (working on a part of the blog for just her updates), our march for babies walk, etc. I'd like to ask for your prayers as I finish prayerfully composing my post for tomorrow. I want to address a sensitive subject that I am currently dealing with and my hope on those sorts of posts is always to have a graceful heart in it. Thank you.

Overheard In Our House| New Baby Edition

first days at home

In order to protect the innocent, I won't reveal which one of us made the following comments in our first few days at home. Have fun guessing. ;)

"What is that on the baby's head? Oh my gosh, did I drool on her? I did! I drooled on my baby's head!"

"She looks like an elf in that hat. We should have just kept the Christmas tree up."

"Oh look, she blinked! She's a genius!"

"#$%!! $^@#@! @&#@(*!" (in our defense, the alarm on the heart/apnea monitor scares the living daylights out of a girl person.)

"Is that a diaper in your bra?"

"Oh look, she smiled! She's a genius!"

"A time for REST, Scarlette. A time for rest. It's in the Bible."

"How do these snaps work? I think a snap is missing. Wait, those snaps don't match up. Now her outfit isn't on right. Where is the other snap? For the love of Pete can someone find me an outfit without these blasted snaps?!"

"Oh look, she grew some hair! She's a genius!"

"She takes after you, she's a weird one."

At least life is still funny

You know how sometimes you're just so exhausted it puts you right on the brink of hysteria? Like, for instance, that time I you stayed up for 24 hours straight at a church lock-in eating nothing but packets of Lik M Aids? You know how when I you got home from that you sort of spazzed out for twenty minutes and then passed out cold on the sofa for the next three days?

I kinda felt like that this morning.

I woke up and and realized (this is the part whereupon I share way too much information with you) that it was that time of the month and it was one of those moments that was so frustrating that it was almost laughable. Like, really? REALLY? Really, I'm going to PMS the week of my due date, while my daughter is having invasive procedure after invasive procedure and I'm pumping six to eight times a day which, by the way, is supposed to keep that from happening? REALLY?! I'm going to have CRAMPS on top of all that? WHERE IS THE JUSTICE?!

I was ranting and raving to Jeff this morning (and by raving I mean furiously throwing packages of feminine products into the luggage I had packed to take to the other hospital and then proceding to repeatedly kick said luggage) when I said "Jeff, what I need is a hug."

"You don't need a hug, he replied, what you need is a sedative."

The way he was warily regarding me when he said that made me laugh the entire drive to the hospital.

Overheard: Anatomy lessons in daycare

The summer after my freshman year of college I worked at a daycare in the Wobbler room. The wobblers were the babies that had just started walking, the ones that teetered around looking all cute and baby drunk.

It's imperative to the story that you know these children were not very verbal. All under the age of two, their vocabulary consisted mostly of the words "MINE!" and the occasional "PWEESE" when I passed out milk and fruit slices. A few of the older kids could string together short sentences but overall they just ate and cried and played with blocks.

It was a regular day like any other when I put K.J. up on the changing table. I went about changing his diaper when he suddenly grinned at me with the sweetest smile I've ever seen and then announced "I have a big pen!s"

I dropped the Wet Wipes and stared at him in shock. "Did he just say what I think he said?" I asked my co-worker. He laughed a little baby laugh and then repeated himself, just as pleased as punch.

Later that day I pulled his parents aside and informed them of K.J's proclamation. I was a young college kid and a little nervious about relaying this information to them.

"Oh yes, his mother said calmly, we tell him that."

I stared at her blankly for a moment.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked her.

She went on to explain. Apparently, they thought it was important to instill their son with hefty dose of self esteem. And apparently the fact that he was ONE AND A HALF YEARS OLD did not matter to them. Nor did the fact that there are many, many, MANY other ways to help foster your child's self esteem. Like, complimenting their manners, for instance. Or the nice way they shared with their friends. Or telling them they are special. Pretty much anything OTHER than telling your not-yet-a-toddler child that they have a big pen!s.

Now, I don't want to be judgemental. But that woman was crazy, right?

*Regarding the spelling of pen!s: I'm not a total prude but google sends some insane stuff to my blog and I'm not taking any chances here, people.