the week in review.

another busy week in the d household! s is three months old, and is officially no longer a newborn. crazy!!!

this week we took our first ‘holiday’ post-baby. monday we drove to west sussex to attend the installation of p’s best friend as vicar of a parish church on the coast. we stayed two nights at a hotel, visited with p’s friend’s family (two of s’s godparents!), took s to chichester cathedral and pallant house gallery (excellent modern art museum; s LOVED the bright colors!) and put our feet in the english channel. phew!

s driving lola…starting early.

art appreciation, infant style.

first time in the english channel! and don’t worry, the water was warmer than the air.

the only way s will deal with tummy time. bad parents.

yes, the same west sussex that had epic flooding monday and tuesday. flooding we experienced first hand. thankfully, we’re all still alive, after driving our poor lola (our ford fiesta) through two or more feet of standing water for what seemed like hours on end. this is one of the smaller lakes we drove through (please note that my hands were over my eyes and not on the camera during our fording of deeper waters):

i think i can see noah in the distance!

s did a great job in the car, and an even better job in the hotel over two nights. pretty sure she’s protesting being back from holiday, though, because she currently won’t go to sleep without being cuddled and resorts to screaming when she doesn’t get her way. YAY!

speaking of s…p and i are currently sitting in the living room WITHOUT OUR BABY. yes, i know s is three months old, but tonight marks the first night we’ve put her to bed in the bedroom rather than on the floor in her moses basket. say it with me now…xannnnnnax. yes, please. or gin. no tonic. :/ oh well, will have to settle for chocolate ice cream and big brother. and pictures of our beautiful baby.

vacationing is so tiring.

wussy mama

when did i become such a wuss about the great outdoors?

let me just preface this by saying that i’m not actually ‘afraid’ of being outdoors, or ‘scared’ of animals/bugs/the world. in fact, when i was in school i was girl scout extraordinaire. every summer i was shipped off to camp (by choice, thank you very much) for a week or two, and learned how to sail, cycle, tie knots, make trails, and survive in the wilderness just like bear grylls. i was a badass. camping outside in a pup tent all by myself? no problem. trekking through the woods with my dad, hunting turkeys? check. swimming in the nasty ass lake all day long? of course. you name it, i did it. i was the definition of a tomboy.

somewhere along the line, i changed.

in the same way that i’m suddenly too old to love roller coasters like i did when i was 16, something has happened to me about being outside. i think it’s the spiders’ fault. maybe it was one too many episodes of the fear factor, but i have this irrational fear that gigantic spiders are going to come attack me in my sleep (think harry potter and the chamber of secrets here…ugh i can’t even watch that video). pretty sure this neurosis has slowly but surely evolved into a psychosis that i may or may not need treatment for. again with the xanax.

so now that i have s i am sure that the spiders that haunt me in my dreams are going to climb all over her and she will be SCREWED, because you’re crazy if you think i’m capable of killing that shit. no way. that’s why i got married. p is spider killer extraordinaire. (ps. this is also part of the reason i got a cat, who is useless at bug killing in general and instead likes to run away from creepy crawlies.)

today we ventured out into the great unknown that is jesus green. i think i did pretty well, considering that there is some kind of bug spawning on half of the trees, covering them in webs full of caterpillars or maggots or larvae…anyone know what this is? i couldn’t get close enough to take a picture; sorry. anyway, we managed a good half an hour of outdoor time before spiders started dropping from the trees and i said F THIS and we went home to hide in our safe little house. which is also full of house spiders.

it’s a neverending circle. i know, i’m a psycho. please don’t let s inherit (too much of) my crazy.

apparently she looks like an occupy protester.

just chillin’.

how to break my heart…


s had her eight week shots yesterday afternoon. in the morning we met up with friends for the big scream, a baby-friendly movie morning at the local arts picturehouse. i couldn’t enjoy myself for worrying about my poor baby and what was coming. good lord, i will never be able to let her out of the house.

waiting for our appointment at the baby clinic felt like sitting in line at the principal’s office. you know what’s coming, vaguely, but there’s no way to know exactly how terrible it’s going to be.

and boy, was it terrible. for me.

s screamed like a banshee and had a hard evening last night, but other than that she’s absolutely fine, and protected from horrible diseases and infections.

but i am scarred. i had to hold the poor, fragile thing as two nurses stabbed her legs with gigantic needles.

i’m a mess. and here’s s:

where is that xanax, already?!

to poo or not to poo

before having our own child, p and i, quite rightly, assumed that babies pooed. a lot. like most other sane people, we assumed this happened on a regular basis, and had heard countless horror stories of hundreds of nappies filled every day and thousands of pounds spent on replenishing the neverending supply of reinforcements.

having s screwed all that up for us.

for the first few weeks, s followed a regimented schedule of poos, as described in the clever and disgusting photo spreadsheet given by the nct. p and i filled hours chatting about meconium, mustard seeds, and increasingly smelly nappies.

tmi? sorry, too bad. poo is my life now, so it is my gift to you.

however, our beautiful and timely baby has since decided to pull the plug on our schedule. these days, she often goes days without pooing at all, instead pumping (or farting, for my american friends out there) more than all the men and labrador retrievers in my life combined.

when it does come, boy does it come. girl can poop.

this turn of events is reason 72652953 i need a prescription for xanax. what kind of crazy baby flouts tradition and withholds poop?!

lots of normal breastfed babies, apparently. midwives tell us not to worry unless she’s going longer than a week without a poo.

better for the bank account, says p. ah, my frugal man. always look on the cheap, i mean bright, side of life.

i’ll take that xanax now, please.