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Last night, Mr. Squab and I went out to a movie together for the first time since the Hatchling arrived.

AND …

… I actually enjoyed it.

Found at Brazen Hussy’s place. Share yours in comments!

Four Guilty Pleasures in Reading
1. Nora Roberts novels. Oh, the smut.
2. Magazines of no redeeming value whatsoever, like Cosmo and People.
3. Asterix and Obelix comics.
4. Anything by Judith Kranz.

Four Guilty Pleasures in Movies
1. Dirty Dancing
2. Sixteen Candles/Breakfast Club/Pretty in Pink (c’mon, those all count as one, right?)
3. Any of the Lethal Weapon movies
4. Meatballs, dammit.

Four Guilty Pleasures in Food
1. Grocery store sheetcake, with the really awful/good frosting.
2. Extra crispy KFC.
3. Krispy Kremes.
4. Cheese grits.

Four Guilty Pleasures in Music
1. Britney Spears.
2. Billy Joel.
3. Bon Jovi. For real, I go NUTS for “Dead or Alive.” Fuckin’ right on.
4. Air Supply, baby. Ahhhh, yeah.

Four Guilty Pleasures in TV
1. Anything on BBC America
2. Anything on HGTV
3. Home Cooking with Paula Deen on the Food Network
4. Desperate Housewives. (I don’t even watch it that often, but when I do I feel guilty.)

Four Guilty Pleasures in Booze
1. Sangria.
2. Tequila shooters.
3. Pina coladas with kaluha added. I know it sounds gross, but it’s good!
4. Wussy drinks, like peach daquiris or tequila sunrises.

So, the fussiness? That resulted in the haikus? Did I mention that it was constipation-related? Yeah. All the medical folks we talked to before the baby came were adamant that iron-fortified formula didn’t contribute to constipation, but color this mama skeptical. The Hatchling has been pretty irregular all along, but the last week has been especially tough – and as of last night, she hadn’t … er … relieved herself … since Sunday. That’s 2 1/2 days! That’s a long time! We finally called the nurse line to see just how worried we should be, and they said to give her 1 tsp karo syrup and call the pediatrician. (Karo! Who knew?) So we added some to her formula last night (and boy, did she ever like that. She definitely has her parents’ sweet tooth. Sweet teeth?), and lo and behold, this morning: there was poop. Oh, so much poop. And believe me, I never thought I could be that happy to see someone taking a crap. But wouldn’t you be happy, too, if this was the result?

1.
Crying all morning,
Nothing will send you to sleep.
When will Mama nap?

2.
Nursing? No. Bottle? No.
Cuddles or playing? No way.
Everything is bad!

3.
I will go to sleep,
But only if you hold me.
I don’t like my crib.

We must have ripped somebody off in a former life or something, because lately we can’t seem to catch a break, monetarily speaking. Get a $300 housewarming check from Mr. Squab’s crazy-generous grandma? OK, then you’ll have a $300 plumbing bill the next week. And remember how I said one of our cars broke down? Yeah, well, $1000 later, it’s fixed – almost the exact amount of our rental deposit refund check that we just this week got in the mail. I mean, I guess I should be grateful that the money for those things isn’t coming straight out of our checking account, but geez, it sucks to have to use “windfall” money for crap like plumbing and car repairs. Blech.

1:15 am – The Hatchling wakes up for her first middle of the night feeding.

2:10 am – I attempt to put the Hatchling back to bed.

2:30 am – I attempt again to put the Hatchling back to bed.

3:15 am – Third time is the charm? Not so much.

4:30 am – Mr. Squab finally achieves the impossible.

7:10 am – The Hatchling wakes up for her first morning feeding, exactly too late for Mr. Squab to take it like he usually does.

8:10 am – Miraculously, the Hatchling goes back to bed on the first attempt. As does her mama.

9:15 am – after an hour of sleep, I sit straight up in bed, convinced that I should be taking advantage of the Hatchling’s sleeping state to take a shower, eat breakfast, learn Italian, etc.

9:17 am – As I get out of bed, I hit a wall of tired. I can either push through and get up or …

9:18 am – I think “sod it” and go back to bed for another hour.

I think I’m getting the hang of this.

Tired. So, so, tired.

Massive ibuprofen-resistant headache.

One car broken down, the other on its last legs.

Boobs not producing enough milk.

Pumping a) sucks, and b) is difficult when the sound of the pump is apparently the one noise guaranteed to wake the Hatchling. (Smoke alarm? No problem. Breast pump? WAAAY too loud.)

But having said all that: damn, the season finale of Grey’s Anatomy was hella good. I bawled like a baby.

Happy Mother’s Day!

On this, my first mother’s day as an actual mom, I must say I have new-found appreciation for the meaning of the day. So this mother’s day, I thought I’d share some of my best mommy memories. These are the things I’ll try to live up to as a mom myself.

1. Singing us German lullabies at bedtime, and teaching us how to sing them, too.

2. Reading aloud to us, endlessly, until your voice was tired.

3. Making us homemade paper dolls, designed to order.

4. Inventing all manner of car games for road trips, including teaching us a million different rounds.

5. Always making our birthday cakes from scratch, complete with roses, scrollwork and crazy-good decorations.

6. Taking us to opera, ballet, orchestra and theatre performances and getting us hooked before we knew it wasn’t “cool.”

7. Being the most enthusiastic audience member for every recital, pageant, spelling bee, presentation, or “A” paper.

8. Encouraging us to pursue our ambitions and strike out on our own.

9. Keeping an open house for us and all our friends whenever we needed a refuge.

10. Making sure we know you love us, no matter what.

What are your favorite mommy memories?

… everyone tells you “sleep when the baby sleeps” but then when are you supposed to
eat
take a shower
get dressed
check email
blog
do laundry
etc
?

And also, what if the baby only sleeps in 1/2 hour increments? What then, if you’re so smart? Huh?

(We are having a trying day today. But the Hatchling is still so damn cute when she sleeps, even at thirty minutes a pop, that I kind of want to eat her up.)

See, when you’ve just had a baby and bought a house, and you mother-effing hizz-ate your job, and you live in one of the most expensive states in the country for childcare, and you’d do just about anything to not have to go back to work when your maternity leave is up, only you’re not sure how you’d afford to eat and stuff without your salary coming in, then reading something like this pisses you off. I mean, Jesus. According to the mom salary wizard, I should be pulling in over 150k per annum. And, you know, damn right I should! Only I don’t. And won’t. Ergo, pissed. Q.E.D.