(Seemingly) Nonstop July

As month two of the summer of typing with one hand draws to a close, it occurred to me that it would be a perfect day to sing A-Ha to a baby. I do this in public while she's riding in her sling since I have no more shame. I'm already covered in spit-up, so why not go for broke? It's a sense of normalcy limbo contest: how low can you go?

Walking by strangers
Stranger than me
We talk of the future
Between you and me

Sweet little darling
Where will we be
Sweet little darling
Where will we be

Baby maintenance is an unbelievable process. I can't convey the magnitude of need and doubt and joy and terror. Either you've crossed that bridge or you ain't. No one can warn you in advance, and you can't imagine it no matter how hard you try. I tear up when she smiles and hope she doesn't see and think I'm sad. I'm not sad. It's just so overwhelming. Each smile is like the first smile all over again.

Posted 6:47 PM by Licketysplit

Easy like sunday morning

It's that special time of the week when a baby likes to read the real estate section of the Times and laugh at the articles about people hunting for apartments. Can you imagine that people really have to do that? Wow. It must only happen to people in New York. Quelle terrible, New York. Some of the apartments are apparently undesirable, forcing people to look at more than one. A baby does not look forward to such loathsome prospects as living in a building without a doorman.

This morning, a baby, who recently celebrated six weeks of breathing, was feeling pretty proud of herself, what with SLEEPING FOR EIGHT AND ONE HALF HOURS LAST NIGHT. In a row. This is better than I did since I kept waking up in disbelief. I think we wore her out by walking down to the folk festival. She enjoys reggae and public drunkenness as much as the next baby, although she is far more attractive than the next baby. People kept stopping us to see her, as it is apparently a novelty to tote a baby around in a sling. Mr. H was wearing it, which caused even more strange looks. She would smile beatifically as she lured in a victim, then seize her moment and casually regurgitate. That's style.

Posted 9:40 AM by Licketysplit

Not a thing to do but talk to you

Someone is sprawled in my lap farting right now, and I'm not even getting paid by the hour! What is this strangely scented world coming to?

Posted 4:27 PM by Licketysplit

Accomplishment Friday

One week after Bastille Day (ce n'est pas Bastille Day), a baby achieved five weeks of breathing. A baby had seen better weeks, what with having the little thing that holds her tongue in her mouth removed and all. Long story, but she did really well, and the people at Children's Hospital were very nice and simultaneously achieved the desired results while not accidentally killing her. I almost handled the dying for her, because my heart broke wide open from seeing her little head bobbing over the nurse's shoulder when they took her into the OR. Oh shit, you have no idea.

Clearly her mouth developed improperly because of Something I Did While Pregnant. Did I take a Sudafed? Was it because I came within a few feet of the litterbox? Was it the sushi? See, I am pre-emptively guilt tripping myself. She's going to have so much more free time as a teenager. Whenever she'll start with "It's all your---" I'll be like "Gotcha covered, kid. See: July 2006, where I walked around with rocks in my shoes as penance." And she'll shrug, steal some of my Valium, and leave to go buy a slutty outfit.

We all needed a break on Friday night, so we tempted fate by walking downtown to get ice cream. A baby obligingly fell asleep in the sling, which is great because going somewhere in public with a baby is a bit like handling dynamite. Handling dynamite was covered in a episode of Lost, if you need a refresher. Results were mixed. We made it within a few doors of the ice cream place when a man scurried up to us and said "The guy from Lost in Space is at Gary's Ice Cream!" We said "Oh," and he helpfully offered "Not the old guy, the other guy." Well, whoopee.

So we get in there, and Major Don West is signing photos for a bunch of obese older people in sci-fi themed t-shirts! Wow! He even had a seven-foot-tall replica of The Robot. Why did we leave the house without a camera?

Thus distracted, I made a fatal error when ordering my ice cream. I ordered a scoop of one flavor in a cup, and a scoop of a second flavor, intended to share the cup. But because I didn't yell "PUT THEM IN THE SAME CUP," each scoop arrived nestled in its own cup. Mr. H asked them to put the two scoops in the same cup, and panic ensued. The counter person couldn't process this request, so he brought in the seventeen-year-old manager. "What's the problem?"

"Um, we want both of these scoops in one cup."

"What?"

Finally, after we employed hand gestures, switching to two other languages, drawing a crude image on a napkin, and holding Major Don West at knife point, TeenMgr squeezed both single cups into...another cup, single sized. At that point, I ran out screaming and threw the whole dripping mess in the trash.

At least a baby slept all the way home.

Posted 11:30 AM by Licketysplit

What we did on Bastille Day



In this frame, a baby was amused by Anderson Cooper's hair.

Last night, the baby went to a wedding. She wore a fetching outfit and slept in a sling all night, meaning I got to eat with both hands. Other babies in attendance loudly disgraced themselves during the toast, and Mr. H leaned over and whispered "not mine!" A baby only become upset when she was getting her diaper changed in the bathroom of one of the guest suites in the sprawling home where the wedding took place. We realized she was crying because we don't have heated towel racks at home. It's OK, that makes me cry too.

Posted 10:24 AM by Licketysplit

What is the sound of one hand typing?

About two weeks ago, I informed Mr. H that it was Canada Day.

"What? Is that why all those French people are driving around waving flags out of their cut-suspension Renaults?"

"No, honey, you're thinking of Bastille Day."

And here we are! C'est Bastille Day. Also known as "A baby has been alive for four weeks." A baby will be a full one month old on Sunday. This week, a baby has learned to smile in response to a smile and make a sound approximating a laugh. She also has some new noises that are sort of screechy, but not crying. More like the caws of a gleeful pterodactyl. She enjoys rolling over to escape the totally bullshit "tummy time" paradigm and following a toy with her eyes. Once in a while she manages to get her hand in her mouth, and that is a good time. Hobbies include "naked butt time" and sleeping up to 4 hours at a time. She also loves to be outside, so I drag my ill-groomed self outside several times a day to walk with her in the sling. Except today, because it is hot as balls.

A baby also broke out in a crusty rash, got diarrhea, and made her distaste for the booger removal apparatus known. Next week a baby has to have a minor surgical procedure to correct a defect in her mouth. I am feeling like a hideous ogre for even entertaining the idea of allowing someone to rearrange my baby. A baby will get a hit of laughing gas for her procedure. I hope they are doing a two-for-Tuesday deal for parents.

--

I am never doing this again.

Did I mention I am never doing this again?

This is my last Bastille Day with a four-week-old baby. Phew!

--

At some point, I will write her full birth story. It's a corker. My best theory is that the river flooding scared the bejesus out of her, because she promptly stopped growing and ran out of amniotic fluid (her first version of "I'll hold my breath until I turn blue," perhaps). So she sneakily skirted a hippie water birth. I was floating around in the tub and everything, until the midwife basically said "ah, no way, dude" after listening to her heart rate crash. This earned us a white knuckle car ride to the hospital, where a Colombian man I'd never met before cut her out of my belly. I think he yelled "gooooooallllll" when he yanked her out. She also hates baths. No water, plz kthx. She didn't ask to be born!

Posted 1:29 PM by Licketysplit

No sleep til Brooklyn

It's amazing how somone under 7 pounds can make two adults with a combined 61 years of life experience feel totally incompetent at times. Mr. H does not know how a kimono works, but the baby forgave him after a withering stare. Or maybe she got distracted by her own hand. We can't be sure.

On the plus side: "I have a baby" is the world's best excuse. I got a lame-tastic bridal shower invite today that included the wording "Red Sox attire strongly suggested!" Oh, darn, the baby. Someone wanted me to take a small freelance job. Oh, the baby. I'm going to try that next year at tax time. I can't pay, I have a baby. I'm going to use this line until she's at least eight.

Posted 1:59 PM by Licketysplit