Didn't See That Coming

Today I saw a car with a paint job advertising their Psychic services business. The car had obviously been in a wreck. I guess they're not THAT good.

You Spin Me Round Round, Baby, Round Round, Like a Record Baby, Round Round

I have found a new distraction that buys me enough time to shower, wash my hair, shave my legs, and SOMETIMES, if I'm REALLY lucky... blow dry my hair. I present to you the best thing since sliced bread: the ceiling fan. She gets so darn excited, the video doesn't really do her glee justice.

July Re-Cap. So Far. For the Wolf Pack.

I started "working" July 1st, and since then, I can not keep up with anything at all. The [lack of]blogging is a heavy indicator. "Working" in this case is a project for a company, which I am using as independent study credit [read: less classes this fall]. I didn't really have any experience at all with the topic of my project, so just getting to a place where I thought JUST MAYBE I could speak semi-intelligibly about it took me until about, oh, RIGHT NOW. And really, that sentence is being generous with its self-praise.

July 4th was spent at the cabin with both sets of grandparents (Lilly's, not ours) it what was a great break and celebration. Yeah for swimming! Yeah for sun! Yeah for ridiculous amounts of food! Basically it satisfied in me the need for "summer activity."

For my birthday this year, Andrew surprised me and put together a party. I knew I wasn't allowed to plan anything for Saturday, but I had no clue what was going on, and frankly, had no energy to try and investigate. He did such a great job organizing, I was impressed and happy at the same time. Happy because it was casual enough to enjoy and the right mix of baby and baby-free. Andrew's Aunt and Mother came over and baby-sat She Who Screams, while a big group of us went downtown and [finally] saw The Hangover. GREAT. Loved it. Truly. I would watch it several more times, just for the one-liners. After the movie, an expanded group met at Candelari's for dinner and cake, where Andrew's Mother and Aunt brought The Wee One. this way, more friends got to meet her who previously hadn't. And THANK GOD, the baby-acne has been on the decline and is mostly gone. Yes, I was That Mom, who took her baby to the pediatrician for baby acne. I walked in and asked in a hig pitched desperate tone "What did I do to her face??" Our doctor is a forgiving woman. At 5 weeks, the baby weighed 12 lbs 9 oz. She is like an Ox, I tell you.

The great part about July has been her ability to recognize us and smile. Oh My God the smiling. It could solve world peace and melt nuclear warheads. I'm not even sure that makes sense, I'm just very tired. So for now, good night. Hasta Pasta.

Especially the Mascara Part, THAT is Miraculous. God I love Twizzlers.

I still read a website called dooce.com. Even though I've gone back and forth on being able to connect to her writing over the last few years, I have continued reading, and have lately gone through a period of completely being able to connect to her experience. Most noticeably, probably because she just had a daughter 2 weeks after me, so we were on the similar wavelengths in terms of pregnancy stages. The part I most enjoy about her writing are the hyperbole metaphors. They are so colorful and painstakingly accurate, I often turn and read them to Andrew, someone who doesn't really care, but humors me anyways. In a recent post, this paragraph sums up perfectly how I've been feeling lately:

"Where was I? Right, yesterday morning. Somehow all the pieces came together and everything that normally has to get done on a Monday morning got done. Leta got dressed, the dogs got fed, Marlo burped and ate and yelled about the wet diaper that had leaked all over her onesie. And then, here's the kicker, I took a shower, washed my hair and applied mascara. If you've never lived with a newborn you're probably going, huh? What? There's a point to this? YES. IN FACT THERE IS A POINT. AN EXCLAMATION POINT. A THUNDERING HERD OF THEM. Because then we got into the car and made it to Marlo's two-week check-up on time. Without any crying or screaming or chucking heavy appliances across the room. I guess the only way to explain the significance of this to someone who hasn't ever lived with a newborn is to imagine waking up in a bed of liquid chocolate next to a naked supermodel. And then suddenly you realize that while you've been sleeping someone came in and wallpapered your room with Twizzlers and one hundred dollar bills."

It's amazing how the most simple tasks become incredibly daunting and exhausting. If anything, this last month has taught me to dramatically lower my expectations: of myself, of what I can accomplish, and of how I think I should feel. Showering, washing AND drying my hair is an gargantuan accomplishment these days, because it usually needs to be done at record speed, before the child realizes I have put her down and she is no longer being walked and rocked. The other day, I opened my make up drawer, and nearly laughed. It looked almost foreign to me. I had put on makeup almost every day for the past 10 years of my life, and suddenly, I didn't recognize how I would ever be able to afford that kind of time again. It was a hopeless moment. The days that I have mustered on much needed concealer are days where I feel heroic. Like I could do anything, multi-task this newborn right into my schedule. Those days, something inevitably happens, something that knocks me right back on my ass, right where I began. It's all about lowering my expectations and celebrating the small victories.

This weekend, Gemsong gave me an early birthday gift, a hair product, because, after all, Gemsong is THE product woman [remind me to tell you about the 4 toiletry bags she toted along on a single weekend trip to California]. I have had the chance to use it once now, and I can't properly express how something that simple, like applying a leave-in treatment to my hair, all 5 seconds of that time, made me feel luxurious. And for the record, it did make my hair feel softer and fuller. If you see me touch my hair and smile, I'm not crazy, or really that vain, I'm celebrating my small victory for the day.