(This post has sparked an interesting, yet respectful, discussion in the comments. Before you comment, be sure to read through all of the comments, mine included, before posting as I think I’ve clarified and given new thought to some of what I’ve said here!) …and not-so-totally-seasoned-Moms: There is something about becoming a Mom that leaves…
Pair. Grown.
Oh dear friends what a difference a few days can make. Last night, Abigail slept in her crib. The whole night. Meaning not once after one of her feedings (after her 7 p.m. bottle, until 7 a.m., she has two) did we end up in the glider. To boot, there was no swaddling, no vacuum…
Month Two
Dear Abigail, I won’t lie. I wanted to start off this month’s letter like this: “Dear Colicky A-hole…” But, and while I’m not Dooce, I know first-hand how self-righteous and lacking in humor the Internet tends to be, especially where calling your two-month-old baby an asshole is concerned, and I have enough on our plate…
The Routine
A couple of weeks ago our friends Bill and Laura were visiting and of course the conversation turned to what nights are like around the Smith house. Bill has a teenage son, so it’s not as though the following was a big new flash: “When I consider the hundreds upon hundreds of dollars spent in…
What a difference
Ahhhh. It has been a much better week. There have been a confluence of events – my birthday, help from family, a haircut, sleep, a few trips out of the house – that have made this happen. The total sum has meant, simply, feeling less like someone’s wet nurse and feeling more like a human…
Where we’re at
Thanks, everyone, for sharing your stories and kind words. As always, it means so much to me. I’ve been re-reading your comments a lot these past few days. I am not miraculously better but I am in a better state. I’m still not getting as much sleep as we’d like, but we’re doing OK. I’m…
Basket. Dropped.
My friends AB and Eliza (I believe) introduced me years ago to the phrase “dropped my basket.” I always liked how it made somewhat light of the serious act of going a bit crazy. Irish people and southerners and their dark humor. Dear friends, this week I dropped my basket all over the place. I…
Back On
When I explain to people that we have “sleep issues” with Abigail, I think they get the wrong idea. Abigail sleeps. But only on us. That isn’t an exaggeration. I’ve gotten sly about her napping – after I know she’s gotten a solid hour and a half, I put her down in any number of…
A Day
Abigail has reflux. She’s also nearing on her sixth week on the planet, the combination of which has made her a delight. And because I am a Type A sort of freak, I’ve been exhausting eveything I can think of to cure at least the reflux and maybe tone down the brightness on her crankiness….
Sums it up
“And I always felt that if something happened to Steve or Pammy, if they died, it would be over for me for a long time but that I’d somehow bounce back. In a very real sense, I felt that life could pretty much just hit me with her best shot, and if I lived, great,…
Get Out
Last night I went out. By myself. Without Scott. Or, most importantly, Abigail. AND IT WAS AWESOME. First? I got “dressed up,” which meant my favorite knee-high black stiletto boots and a dress. I am still in-between fashions right now, but everything I wore was pre-pregnancy clothes, so that felt ridiculously awesome. And, because the…
One Month
Dear Abigail – It’s the law of the Internet, at least if you possess a vagina and a baby and a URL, that you compose a letter to your kid to mark the milestones. I’m a law-abiding citizen, but I’m pretty sure I’d write this to you even if I feared some sort of Bad…
-
This stuff is amazing. Get it. Your dry, cracked skin will thank you.
-
This sits proudly on my desk. I love it so much.
-
I saved up and planned for these puppies. Some of the best money I've ever spent. I love these more than I can say.
-
I decided to try enhancement products when I was training for my second marathon this year. I chose these and love them.
