Sorry about the non-posting. Someone - and I'm not saying who - has suddenly started taking booshitty half-hour naps which is barely enough time to cruise Facebook, much less craft some genius. (BTW, what gives with the private profiles, Facebookers? How am I supposed to stalk if you keep thwarting like that?) The poor guy's got another tooth popping through (#3. Mama's little hillbilly!) and he's dying, dying, dyyyyyying to crawl. Between the extra special neediness (stranger anxiety, realizing the world is a big place for a small fry, tooth pain) and the extra short naps, carving out "me" time is elusive these days. Combine that with some super fun self-doubt (I can't write, can't act, are those liver spots on my hands?) and you've got a recipe for hardcore wingeing. (That's the British version of "whining" for you unpretentious types.)
That said, the boy sure is great. And large. Man, this kid is big! I can't leave the house without someone commenting on the giantness of him.
"He's 8 months? Really? Woooooow!"
"Oooh, I can tell your mama's just starving you!"
Or my personal fave:
"He sure is healthy!"
Apparently I have given birth to Paul Bunyon. (If anybody has a lead on a stuffed blue ox, I'm in.) I think the kid's got a perfectly normal, adorable amount of pre-walking chub but it seems that New Yorkers like their babies lean. I'm never quite sure how to respond to people when they say things like that. They're always cooing and patting and loving him up so I don't think they mean ill, but "uh, thanks?" always feels like the wrong answer. It's like when I was pregnant and people would stop to tell me how huge I was. Thanking them for commenting on my heft just didn't fit the bill.
I have no idea where I was going with this. (The convention coverage is distracting.) How do you carve out "me" time, babywranglers?
6 comments:
From the pictures he just looks like a regular size baby to me. Maybe the babies are as a rule pudgier out this way. People just have to say something I guess.
Carving out me time.....I am probably not a good person to answer this question, but I think that desire is how I got in the very bad habit of staying up way later than I should.
Oh, sister, sing it. I am so with you. Tinkerbell did a few days of three 20-minute naps and I just about lost my mind. You can read my agonies over "sleep training" (I'd rather call it "howling with Mom out of the house") here: iVillage board thingy.
As for chub? Tell those people to go Favre themselves. Babies get to be fat, upscale New Yorkers don't, and the latter envy the former that freedom.
Me time?! I've been meaning to e-mail you for ages and have only found significant computer time until just now. So, I hear you. My guy is going through all the exact same stuff. Plus, he's started lifting his arms at me, constantly, every time I put him down to play. I'm like, "Dude, don't you want some independence? Don't you want to learn to crawl?! Crawling is cool! Everyone's doing it!" He flings himself forward and then cries. Close enough, I guess. And my guy is big and I'm thinking, maybe his belly is getting in the way of crawling. Those skinny babies, what kind of weight do they have to drag around?! Not the same thing at all, in my opinion.
What is this "me time" you speak of? I do not understand this phrase.
7-8 months I remember being an extra-needy time (my girl was like Mommy's Little Remora at that age, and she is generally VERY independent) but it passes pretty quickly once the crawling picks up and especially when pulling up and OMG walking starts.
"Me" what?!
Bwaahahahhaaaaaaaaaa!
If it's not the babies, it's Eric complaining that I'm not paying attention to HIM. There's no "me" time around here. Also, there's barely any writing going on, either, unless someone is sleeping. Unless Eric starts whingeing at me.
maybe they're comment is really about how petite and thin you are in comparison ;)
Post a Comment