I have things to say. Stories to tell. I haven’t written a blog since June of last year, but now I have things to say probably. As a blogger it’s important to take unannounced hiatuses every once in a while, to keep people guessing.
This blog entry is a little disjointed because my head feels weird but I thought it was time to break the silence. SO DON’T BLAME ME IF IT IS NOT FUNNY OR INTERESTING. Blame Nicolas Cage, that’s the thing to do these days.
Anyway, I have a baby! He is super duper awesome, no joke. He is three months old and his name is Oliver, but sometimes we call him Martin. Just kidding. That was a mom joke. Because now every joke I make is a mom joke. His nickname is actually Ollie, though Martin is an alright name so maybe I’ll bring it up at the next family meeting.
Warning: this blog is about babies. If you find that unacceptable, please hold. Future entries will not all be about babies. But you should also question why you find babies so unacceptable, because…kind of weird. Get it together.
Here is an updated photo of my family:
Obviously when I said “photo” I mean “very life-like drawing” and obviously when I said “very life-like drawing” I meant something I drew in Microsoft Paint. It actually took a long time to create because I accidentally deleted it multiple times, and then redrew it, and then spent a lot of time complaining to the husband about how Paint is the worst program in existence, but I was using our Windows desktop, so I didn’t have a ton of options. Also I don’t know if it is just this monitor, but Ian seems to be glowing a little in the picture. Huh. Also Oliver is red because when I drew this he had just gotten his shots at the doctor and was super mad at me, so that is very symbolic and deep.
Babies are pretty great, but sometimes gross. I know this sounds like the beginning of a bunch of horrifying stories–I’ve heard them from new parents. About how they haven’t slept in 72 days and then they show you a piece of “baby” puke in their hair, but it looks suspiciously like grown-up vomit because there are chunks of corn in it, then you look at a wet spot on their pants and they are like, oh no worries, that baby urine, not mine, and then you vow to never have children, thus reducing the birth-rate in the world. And while Ollie spits up and pees on me all the time, it’s really not as gross as I thought it would be and it gives me a great excuse to look frazzled and crazed all the time even though that is just my face. That’s just how my face looks. Or if you show up really tired to something, people are like, oh the baby kept you up? And I shrug which seems like a yes, but really it means I was up late reading a dumb book, or playing a dumb game, or maybe braiding friendship bracelets. The last likely being the most productive activity. Or if we are sitting somewhere where I am expected to act like a normal person and I start to get antsy, Oliver is like, “No worries, I got this” and cries and surprise! Instant ticket out of said situation.
Should I turn this into a BuzzFeed article?
“5 shocking secrets about having kids that will put other parents out of business!”
“10 incredible truths that NO ONE WILL EVER TELL YOU about being a new parent!”
“Watch this video! YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT THIS MOM DOES oh my gosh your life will never be the same!”
I’m going to go with the first one.
Here are my shocking secrets about having a three-month old baby:
1. Talking to yourself is now acceptable. When you talk to yourself in the grocery store, you’re the local crazy. But when you ‘talk to your baby’ in the store, it’s adorable. This is incredibly useful and life-changing. I have been talking to myself my whole life, and now it’s finally socially acceptable.
2. Oliver likes to be watched all the time. He gets upset if there is no one looking at him. This was a surprise to me, because I guess I was under the impression that babies were sort of apathetic towards the people around them, because how many emotional needs can babies have? This is incorrect. (Previous to Ollie, I hadn’t spent very much time around babies.) Sometimes Ollie will fall asleep while I’m holding him, so I carefully put him down, and he is still sleeping, good news, right? And then I watch him for a few minutes, and he is still sleeping, so I think, “Oh, maybe I’ll work on homework or something productive” and so I turn away and suddenly he is all,
“Woah woah woah! I’ll probably cry for a while now.”
“But you were just sleeping.”
“Yes, ok, I’ll go back to sleep.”
So I try to walk away again, and then I hear another cry.
“What’s the deal, babbio?”
“hmm, I just think maybe I need you to be here.”
“But you are sleeping.”
“Yes, well, I think you need to watch me sleep.”
So then he sleeps and I do watch him because who likes being productive anyway? And then later he’ll wake up and be all “FINE MOM. I’M AWAKE, HAPPY? NOW I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU’D HOLD ME WHILE YOU EAT YOUR AU GRATIN POTATOES.” But, lest you think this is a one way street, while I am eating my au gratin potatoes and holding him, he smiles a bunch and then promises to take care of me in my old age.
3. My baby is apparently always hungry. Or at least Oliver does. My niece does not have this problem. Sister #2 says that I deserve it. With Oliver, his appetite is constant. I remember at the hospital, right after he was born, the nurse said that babies usually eat every 2-4 hours, and I thought, oh well Ollie will definitely be the one that eats every 4. Obviously this was a delusional fantasy, first that I could somehow control him in any way, and second that he would not actually want to eat every 45 minutes. This is how things usually go down with Ollie (embellishing a little, like the fact that there are words involved at all).
“Hey, I need a snack maybe.”
“You just ate.”
“Yeah but that was like 15 minutes ago, sooo…maybe I should eat again.”
“Okay, but then you will be good for a few hours right?”
“I think we are wasting a lot of time talking when I could be eating.”
“So that one day you will actually be full and not want to eat?”
4. My baby is cutest. As much as I logically realize that every parent thinks their baby is the cutest, I still feel pretty positive that mine is the cutest. When I am not around Oliver, I am usually looking at pictures of Oliver. I’M OBSESSED WITH MY BABY, WHAT ABOUT IT??
5. If you have a boy, the ratio of cute things in a clothing store for boys is like 1:113. Not in favor of boys. It’s incredibly unjust. You wouldn’t believe how many places I had to go to get a good bow-tie for him. Don’t worry about the fact that I went all over looking for a bow-tie.
Ian was wearing a wizard hat for a while. He took it off a few minute ago. It was initially for a bit, but then he didn’t take it off. Maybe he liked the look.
Okay, it is time to go. My brain is mush.