Just after I published the last post, I scrolled down and there was the rolling over video. And since I think Eliana is so cute (and she's sleeping and maybe I miss her), I decided to play that video. In it, you can hear me talking. Tony turns around from the desk and asks, "Is that her?" pointing to the baby monitor. I said, "Is what her? The talking?" He nods his head. And I say "You mean our 2 month old baby?" He nods again asking "Is that her?"

Yes Tony, she rolls over and has started talking.

I miss you already

My mother and sister will be here tomorrow to meet Eliana. I'm so excited! My mom is awesome and Kelly's nice once you get to know her. Well, maybe not nice to adults, but she's great with kids. And this means Tony and I get to go out together. By ourselves. Without the baby. For the first time ever. Or at least since she was born. Am nervous.

So, my point. My family does not know about my blog. I don't think they would care really, except I maybe curse too much. I just want to have the option to complain about them someday. And if they read it, that's out the window. In fact, there is only one person in my real life that reads this. And I would like to keep it that way. OK, 2 people if you count Tony. So I probably won't be blogging until they leave on Thursday. Or maybe I'll just take the laptop into the bedroom and blog in private. It'll be our little secret. Shhh. Don't tell.

But if I can't sneak away or I'm too busy having fun, then I shall miss you and think of you fondly. Smooches to ya!

PS. Did I mention we have to drive 2 and a half hours to pick them up and 2 and a half hours back with the baby in the car in her carseat that she kinda hates? Am very very scared. Please pray for non-fussy, happy baby day. kthnxbye



Miss, from the cafemom group, has asked me (ok, everyone, but I'm part of the group, so me too) to post a blog about abuse. And since I'm nothing if not obedient (HA!), I've decided to participate. And I've been intending to write this post for a while. Now I have an excuse.

I was 19 years old and living on Guam. I'd lived there since I was 14 (and from 9-11 years old). Since I was 19 and so grown-up, I moved out of my parent's house and in with a friend. Ok, acquaintance. It was terrible. I hated living there so much. So when I met him (we'll call him SF)(that stands for Shit Face), I may have rushed a little into the relationship. I wanted out of where I was. Everything moved so fast. We started living together right away. And everything was good. For a little while.

The first time it happened, it didn't seem so bad. He punched me in the arm. Hell, my sister had done that a million times. Granted, she never left a big, purple bruise, but he was a guy. Didn't know his own strength. And he apologized. I can't remember the second time. Or the third. Or the 30th.

I remember once I accidentally forgot to turn the stove off. We both went to work. He got home before me and called me at work, yelling. Said I shouldn't bother going home. I knew what was coming, so I decided to stay at my parent's house. But when I got off work, he was there. We sat in his car in the parking lot. He didn't say a word. He backhanded me across the face. I tried to get out, but he grabbed my hair and slammed my face into the steering wheel 4 or 5 times.

Another time I dropped my pager into the toilet. It was going to cost $50 to get a new one. So the day we picked it up, he tells me how stupid I was. And the he beat me in the car all the way home. His mother was in the front seat at the time. She yelled at him to stop, but he barely noticed her. It was the first time he'd hit me in front of her. I thought she would have been upset about it. But she really didn't seem too surprised. I found out later that his father had beat his mother all the time.

On Mother's Day I called my mom from work. We talked for a while and all of a sudden I told her that SF beats me. I don't know why. I have no idea where it came from. I didn't intend to tell anyone. She told me to tell my dad* what I had just said. I will never forget what he said to me. He said, "Ok, here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna pick you up from work and we're gonna bring boxes. We're gonna go to your house and get your things and you're coming to stay with us." I told him it wasn't necessary (I was moving to Alaska in 3 months, so I figured I would tough it out until then) and that I would be fine. Then he said, "No, here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna pick you up from work and we're gonna bring boxes. We're gonna go to your house and get your things and you're coming to stay with us." I insisted that I would be fine and not to worry about me. He said, "You're not listening. This IS what we're going to do." I said, "ok".

They never even waited for me to get off work. My boss let me leave early. My parent's seemed very.....kick-ass is the only word that comes to mind. They were eager and excited. I was scared. I didn't know what would happen, but I did know SF's propensity for drama. When we got there, I opened the door and he was watching TV. He looked up and said he was just about to pick me up from work and how did I get home. Then he saw my parent's. He asked, "What's going on?" He looked very wary and nervous. All I could say was "I'm sorry". My mother and I went to the bedroom and started throwing my stuff together. Not even all my stuff. Just whatever was within reach. My dad stayed out with SF. He said "I know what you've been doing to my daughter". I don't know what was said after that. My dad had, apparently, called the cops earlier to let the know what was about to happen (taking me away from abusive boyfriend) and had them on stand-by just in case. SF grabbed a japanese sword that was hanging on the wall and went into the bathroom and locked the door (propensity for drama). My dad called the cops. When they got there they asked if I wanted to press charges. If I could go back in time and re-live that one moment I would say "Yes, take the fucker to jail". But I was upset and confused and emotional. So I told them "No, I just want to get my stuff and leave". So we did.

When I got home, my sisters had made up a place for me to sleep. And they stayed up hugging me and talking to me and trying to make me laugh. When SF tried to call the next day, one of my sisters would answer and tell him to go fuck himself (they were 17, 15, and 13 at the time and they were awesome). His aunt (who we had rented from) even called to tell me I had to get the rest of my stuff. She tried to sneak in that this (beating your significant other) was just how things were handled and if I just didn't mess up so much, he wouldn't hit me. I told her if she wanted to get slapped around, she was welcome to it, but I was done. We went over later to get the rest of my things. I called the airline and had my ticket changed so I could leave the following month. He stalked me for a while after that. It was never menacing. He was trying to get me back. Once I got over the emotional crap, that was never gonna happen.

I wonder to this day why I stayed so long. Did I think I could change him? Did I pity him? His father beat his mother. Did I think he couldn't help himself? I honestly don't know. I missed my youngest sister's 8th grade graduation because I had a black eye and a fat lip. I told her I was sick. I think about that all the time. She forgave me. But I feel so guilty that I let him do that to me.

It completely changed who I was. I spent the next 10 months in Alaska using men. I always said since I was using them, I wasn't a slut. But I was. I guess I was acting out or reclaiming my freedom or whatever. I wasn't really dealing. After too long of that I had to leave. I needed to fix myself. I moved to Oregon. I met Tony. I got better. I was still very controlling and it's only been in the last year or so that I've eased up. I blamed all men (including Tony) for what SF did to me. I took out my anger on Tony all the time. I really don't know why he stayed.

I don't know if I'd really want to change what happened, since it made me who I am today. But I know I wouldn't want that for my sisters. Or my mother. Or my daughter. I hope she is smart enough to avoid my mistake. I hope she makes better choices that I did. But if she doesn't, I hope she's strong enough to leave.

*He's technically my step-dad, but for this and a million other reasons, he'll always be my Dad


Eliana Update...This time with math!

So today was make-up doctor appt day. Nothing too exciting. She weighs 10lbs 10oz (50th percentile), she's 23.25" long (75th percentile) and her head circumference is 39.5cm (70th percentile). I don't know why they do head circumference in centimeters. Maybe they're British. So she's fine. Better than fine. The doc commented on her many many birth marks. Ok, 3. But still...there was commenting. And her belly button is fine (there were worries about the cord not coming off completely)(those worries were mine). The doctor said yay rolling over. Those may not have been her exact words, but close enough. She said most babies don't start until 4 months. Way to go my kid. Other than the diaper leaking and having to change her out of her to be seen in public cute girly outfit to her whatever I happen to have in the diaper bag outfit, all went well. She even slept in the car on the way home. I know what you're thinking. But really, she was fussy this morning and all night (OMG the fussy!) so things really do even out. And now she is asleep. And this post took me 3 hours to write. Am done now will write again tomorrow love you bye bye.


I guess I was wrong

Looks like it didn't take long for her to start doing it consistently. I am so proud!! This was the 5th time in a row (and the second that I got on video). Good job Eliana!!!!

ETA: I posted the second video because the first one was filled my screams and giggles and I didn't think you'd want to hear me acting a fool.

Looking Back

Dear Teenage Sabrina,

If you keep eating like that you will grow up to be a big cow. So quit it. Your grown up self does not appreciate having to lose all the weight now. You aren't fat (yet). I don't know why your self esteem is low. There really is no reason for it. Don't feel so bad about yourself. Life is way too short.

Don't start smoking. It's not good for you and it's a pain in the ass to quit. Your breath will stink, your teeth will look like crap and your hair will smell like an ashtray. You will spend a lot of time by yourself away from the group since no one else will be a smoker. Cigarettes are going to get very very expensive and you will be poor. It does not make you look more grown up or cool. It makes you look like a stupid kid. So don't even go there.

Butt out of Vickie's life. Save your breath. She will not listen to you, so let her make her own mistakes. And saying "I told you so" is not attractive. I know it may not seem so now, but you 2 will grow to be a lot closer. She will start looking up to you, so be a good example for her.

Be nicer to all your sisters. You're the oldest and you should know better. Amy is young and so willing to please. You should not take advantage of her sweet nature. She could grow up resenting you, but she won't because she's so much better of a person than you (for now). Oh and when she says she's got the shotput, she doesn't. Don't let go. It'll hurt her toe. A lot. And you know that defense mechanism you have (the uncontrollable laughing)...it will make her feel worse. And you will feel like an ass.

While we're at it, don't tell Tess you don't like her haircut. She'll get pissed at you. And really, if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all. And oh! Don't make out with that guy at homecoming. You will regret it the next day. And for the rest of your life. Cuz ewww.

There are more things that I could tell you to avoid, but I think they would change who you end up being. And I don't want that. I like us (for the most part). And what I don't like, I'll change. And you should too.

Older Sabrina

This letter is inspired by this weeks writing challenge from Amy at the cafemom group.

Brought to you by the letter "B"

Burp Cloth

Saying this 20 times a day gets very annoying.


A Comparison

I guess some things haven't changed much since then.

Shitty storybook values

Part of our nightly routine is story time. We have this book with a bunch of 5 minute stories and I read 1 every night. Most of the stories are ones I've never heard of. Some are good, some are sucky. Tony and I discuss each one after to decide if it'll ever be worth reading again. Tonight's story was "Thumbelina". Now, I'll admit it's been a few (lots) years since I've read this particular story, and I honestly don't remember much about it. And maybe I read a different version.

Basically Thumbelina gets adopted by some lady. The lady takes care of her and raises her and all that. So one day Thumbelina gets kidnapped by this frog cuz he wants to marry her. She escapes and ends up in this meadow where she decides to live (remember this for later). Winter comes so she shacks up with some mouse. Then she finds a swallow with a broken wing and takes care of it for the rest of the winter. Spring comes and the swallow decides to help her and takes her to this clearing in the woods where there are all these fairies. They all want her to stay cuz she's so pretty and they want to make her their princess. She decides to stay with them and they make her into a fairy and she lives happily ever after.

First of all, what the hell? You're gonna get kidnapped and when you finally escape you're not even gonna try to get back home?? Ok, fine. It's winter. Maybe traveling isn't a good idea when you're 3 inches tall. I get it. But spring comes and this swallow can fly you where ever and you don't even try to stop by and tell your poor mother you're alive? And then you get in with some fairy gang and don't even think about your mouse friend who took care of you all winter. And did I mention not going home to see your mother?

And what exactly is that story teaching my daughter? Don't worry about your mom. Go off and live your life and forget that you're breaking your mother's heart.

Thumbelina is an ungrateful bitch.

I may be slightly hormonal.


My baby is the awesomest baby in the whole world

Before I get into this, I'm going to warn you. I will be bragging like crazy. Tons. My kid is awesome. I've always thought she was, so this isn't new. Today, she just happens to be more awesome than usual. I am so proud of her I feel like I'm going to burst.

Eliana rolled over. All by herself. Without my help. This makes me so proud (she is 2 months and 4 days old, ya'll) and so very very sad. She did it without my help she's growing up she doesn't need me anymore waaaahhhh! Anyways. We were doing tummy time. I don't really do this often cuz frankly, I don't think about it. But she didn't seem to be too pissed off, so I figured we'd do it for a while and be done. I laid her down and she lifted her head and her chest like she always does and looked around. She was ok with it. Not thrilled, but not pissed. After a while, she started getting fussy. So I got myself up off the floor. By the time I got up (I say that like it took me 20 minutes cuz I'm so huge, but it didn't and I'm not...maybe I am, but it still didn't take 20 minutes) she didn't seem quite so fussy, so I decided to give her a little longer. I started telling her to roll over and she did! She looked surprised that she did it. I was shocked too. We may have done a little jig. And by "may", I mean we totally danced like fools all around the house. When I told my dad he kept saying I must have helped or that she was on a pillow, so I'm taking this time to say I never touched her and she was flat on the floor. So there. I get that this was probably a fluke and she won't do it consistently for a while. But my little girl did it on her own for the first time and I don't care why. I'm going to be proud of her. Yay Eliana!

AND (yes, there's more). I was holding her and we were looking at ourselves in the mirror. We do this every day. She's not usually a fan of it. I think she thinks that baby in the mirror is some "other" baby and she gets jealous or whatever when I talk about how pretty she is. Today she was just looking. Like she was trying to figure her out. So I told her, "Why don't you give her a big smile and see what happens." Eliana kept looking for another couple seconds and then breaks out into this HUGE smile. She was so cute. Then of course she saw the "other" baby smiling and she was all like, "What're you smiling at?" But I would just like to say she is so my monkey.

AND (hard to believe, but yes, there's more). I was getting Eliana's bath ready while Tony was keeping her occupied. All of a sudden I hear her LAUGH. She has never done this! So I ran into the livingroom and she did it again!!! Like a real laugh! I don't even know what Tony did to make that happen, but whatever it was must have been hilarious. I can not tell you how proud I am. If you saw me, you'd say I was beaming.

Needless to say we've had a busy, milestone-filled day. Maybe she'll start walking tomorrow or be president or go to the moon. Don't worry, I have no intention of ever being that mother. She can go back to rarely smiling and occasionally cooing and I'll be happy. But if she wants to roll over again, I'm good with that too. As long as she waits for me to get the video camera out.


How we got here

You know that commercial that says, "Having a baby changes everything"? I have always hated that. Mostly because when it came out, Tony and I were in the midst of trying to conceive and it was like a slap in the face. Since we were dealing with infertility and 4+ years of trying, I figure I was allowed to hate that commercial. This is the first time I've ever blogged about my experience. I wasn't sure if there was even a point, since now we have Eliana. She makes it all worth it. I don't think trying longer makes my parenting different. In fact, I almost feel like having her wiped away all of the anger and tears and heartache we went through to get her. Maybe that's why I need to blog it. It was an important time in my life. I know people who are still praying for their miracle. So maybe I need to write it all down so I don't forget what got me here.
Tony and I got married in 2002 and pretty much started trying right away. Well, I tried, he didn't prevent which is just as good to me. I knew it wouldn't be easy. Without getting into much detail, when you're a woman and something is missing every month and you're not pregnant, you know there's something wrong. I think I knew even before that. So we tried and I avoided the doctor. Frankly, I was scared. I didn't want to hear that there was something wrong with me. I thought they'd tell me I had cancer or something else just as terrifying. So I put it off and hid my head in the sand and took test after test praying I could just get pregnant and not have to go see a doctor. Sadly, no.

Then we moved to Texas (the first time) and I went to the doctor. I let go of denial and faced the crappy reality. I was broken and we needed help. So my doc (love her so much) ran tests and took blood and asked questions and I was diagnosed with PCOS. My ovaries have an attitude. She gave me 3 options: lose weight and hope that kicks my ovaries into gear, start taking metformin and hope that kicks my ovaries into gear, start taking metformin and clomid and hope that kicks my ovaries into gear. The whole losing weight thing wasn't appealing. Not because I didn't want to lose weight, but because I was stressed enough and didn't need the pressure of dieting and exercising and who am I kidding, I'm just lazy. And the clomid seemed scary. Like if it didn't work I'd be out of options quick. So we decided on the met.

I started taking it and ugh. The first couple of weeks is not fun. I won't go into it, but suffice it to say "ugh". But it started working. I started getting my "visitor" almost regularly. And month after month after month I still got negative tests. So that's how it went for 2 years. Then we moved to Washington. I met with another doc and had my records sent over. I told him I wanted the clomid, but he was an ass and made me wait until January. This is why I'm not a fan of men gyno's. That and they can not possibly understand. That may not be fair, but when it comes to my girly parts, equality does not come into play. So again with the negative tests month after month. Until January. We did the clomid. And I ovulated!! And it couldn't have been more perfect. And the test was still negative! Fucking pregnancy tests. And did I mention that Tony deployed right after that??? That was the last cycle we got for 6 months. Skip ahead 6 months to Tony coming home. We do the clomid again. And I ovualted so good. My ovaries were all cooperative and shit. And I loved them for it. And then Tony had to go out again for 3 weeks. Because, you know, 6 months wasn't quite enough and the Navy sucks.

So I was all alone again. My temp was still up. So I tested. And it was positive. And the next one was positive. And the next 2 were negative. Because of course it wasn't going to be easy. The next day I took 4 more tests and 3 were negative and 1 was positive. This wasn't looking good. And damn. So I waited 2 more days. And then I took 2 more tests. And they were both positive. And I wasn't tempting fate by taking any more.

I emailed Tony and told him he was gonna be a daddy. Sweet, I know. To be honest, that part didn't matter. We always felt that it didn't matter how we got there, just that we did. I had a doc's appt on base and they told me I really was pregnant. Then I had an appt with my gyno and he told me I was pregnant and showed me this:

I emailed that to Tony too. He printed it out and kept it on his desk. When he got home and we celebrated by packing up and moving back to Texas. We're a wild couple, I tell you.

That's our journey in a nutshell. A small nutshell. To really get it you'd have to add in an ocean of tears, a thousand fights, and a year of days that I hated every pregnant woman ever. I was bitter. I was pissed and bitter for a long time.

But now I have Eliana. She's perfect and beautiful and brilliant. I barely remember everything we went through to get here. It feels like she's always been a part of our family.

It makes me sad that there are still so many women waiting for their miracle. It makes me sad that my friend had to spend this week crying and angry. It isn't fair. She deserves her miracle. I hope that she is as lucky as I have been.

This is not where this post was supposed to go. I'm pretty sure I had intended to talk about parenting and throw in my nephew and the problem my sister is currently having with him and ask for internet advise. Guess I'll have to do that one tomorrow. Hopefully my nephew won't beat anyone up until then. And hopefully my sister's head won't explode. I'll keep you posted on that front.


Tony goes to Walmart

*Ring Ring*

Tony: Hello

Me: Hi. Could you do me a favor?

Tony: Sure

Me: Could you stop by Walmart on your way home and pick up some garlic bread and pads.

Tony: Sure.

Me: kthnxbye

A little while later:
Holy crap, Tony. Going a little overboard?

2 Month Update

Yesterday Eliana was officially 2 months old. Which makes today 2 months and 1 day. Which makes me a day late posting this. Whatever.

Tony took the day off cuz there was no way I was dealing with her first shots by myself. The only available appt was early. Needed to leave the house by 7:30. Would have been fine, but Tony woke me up at 7am and said "Go take a shower". Also would have been fine, except the baby had only just woke up and needed to be fed. Tony's a great dad, but growing boobs and lactating is something he only does in his dreams. Fed baby. Got dressed. No shower.

When we got to the clinic, this guy immediately came up and asked if we'd got the message. I immediately told him he COULD NOT CANCEL. So they decided to reschedule the appt part, and do the shots anyway. I guess they'd called Tony's cell while he was in the shower. Whatever.

So after waiting for an hour (I hate them) we finally got to go back. I convinced them to weigh her (10lbs 4 oz..was told this is fine for 2 months and I hate everyone who keeps telling me she looks so tiny all ya'll can kiss my ass) and then it was time for shots.

I was not looking forward to this. I spent all morning not looking forward to this. I was nauseous all morning. And every time I let myself think about what was about to happen I had to choke back the tears. There are a lot of cries I can handle, but the pain cry is not one of them. I had given her tylenol, but I knew that wasn't going to make it any better. The lady was nice enough. She looked like she was 19, which did not enhance my calm. I even asked her if she'd ever done this before. She looked insulted, but she, too, can kiss my ass this is my little girl we're talking about. She assured me she had done this lots of times (I just know she was lying). So she starts with this liquid oral medicine stuff. She was really good about that. Talked to Eliana the whole time and smiled at her. Eliana swallowed and smiled and cooed (poor girl..if she'd only known what that lady was about to do to her). But that did make me feel better. At least she wasn't like that bitch at the hospital who took Eliana's blood (PKU) and didn't even try to soothe her or make her feel better.

After she drank all that stuff down, it was time for the very not fun part. I had been fully prepared that I would have to hold her down for this and I got ready. But then another lady came in and looked at me like "What're you standing there for?". So I moved to the corner and like the chicken I am, covered my ears. They gave her all the shots at the same time. Or at least 2 of them at the same time. I wasn't watching.

Eliana started crying, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. She cried for maybe 5 minutes and then fussed a bunch. She slept alot yesterday and fussed almost the whole time she was awake. She slept through last night, so at least it didn't break the night sleeping. And for that I am truely grateful. She's still really fussy today, but I'm giving her lots of extra attention and love. Her actual appt is next Wednesday. I'll update more weight/height/percentile crap then.

I had my PP appt yesterday afternoon. I know this is usually done at 6 weeks, but the doc's office sucks sometimes, so this is when I could do it. My incision is healing nicely. I now have birth control pills. I still have 18lbs to lose to get to pre-pregnancy and even more to get to where I want to be. That's ok though since apparently my scale at home is reading 5lbs heavier, so I felt better than I thought I would. Yay me. All in all it went fine.

I've also decided to take a pic of Eliana every month next to the same stuffed bear as sort of a comparison thing. I missed 1 month, but I'm starting now. The bear is big, so I know it makes her look smaller, but it's for comparison anyway. It'll be better next month.

I'll also be posting more pics in a few weeks. We finally got her pics taken by someone who gets paid to do it. They should be ready in 2 weeks and I have to say, she's adorable in them. No big smiley pics, but cute anyway. Maybe the smiley pics will come next time.

You're all updated. I'm done now. The end.

The purpose of a rear-view mirror

God chose not to give us eyes in the back of our heads. I have to say, if there's ever an upgrade I'd totally go for it. But in the meantime, the car industry has decided to put rear-view mirrors on cars. This is so that you can see behind your vehicle. It comes in handy for situations such as changing lanes, parallel parking, and MAKING SURE THE GARAGE DOOR IS OPEN BEFORE YOU BACK OUT.

Tony sucks.

So now I have that stressing me out. Except I don't since my exact words were, "You deal with it and I don't want to know." Still sressed, but at least now I don't have to come up with a solution.

I guess if I'm looking for a silver lining, it's that the car didn't go all the way through the door. And no one was hurt.

The crappy part is that we rent. Shit shit shitty shitness.


Reason #43 that someday my daughter will throw me in a home.

Yes, that's a poopin' video. Wonder if someday I can make up for this by buying her a car? Any chance?


Shhh...Don't tell Tony

I complain about cleaning all the time. Who doesn't? In fact, when I was younger you couldn't get to me to clean anything. My room was always piled high with clothes. For a long time I didn't know what color carpet I had. It was that bad. I have 3 sisters and we once shared one bathroom (so I can't be blamed alone). There was once a mushroom growing out of wet clothes on the floor. Do you know how long that must have taken?? Just thinking of it now makes me want to gag.

My secret is that now, I like cleaning. It makes me feel productive and proud of myself. And I HATE admitting this, but it makes me feel like a good little wife and OMG I need to move back to the 50's. Don't get me wrong, Tony cleans too. In fact, most wives would be jealous of me since Tony can sometimes clean more than me. But the way I complain about doing it all the time, you'd think it was going to cause cancer or something. Am whiny.

If Tony knew I really don't mind as much as I let on, he might expect to me do it more often (as in, when I don't feel like it cuz am still lazy) or, God forbid, NOT complain. No No, he must never find out since taking my right to complain is like taking my ice cream. I will shoot you in the hand if you take my ice cream. Too bad he could actually, possibly, maybe READ this blog.


The 30 seconds that aged me 30 years

She was choking.

Eliana has been in a great mood all day. She's been smiling more, fussing less and pretty content to hang out and play by herself. It was time for a nap, so I laid her in her bassinet. She was quiet and happy. I couldn't stop staring at her. Normally when she's content to lay there, I would run and eat or pee (both of which I had to do at the time), but she just looked so cute I wanted to talk to her and make faces at her to get her to smile.

Then she choked. It happened so fast and I don't know what she choked on (spit-up, I assume). I picked her up and started yelling at her to breathe. I don't know how I got to the other side of the livingroom, but all of a sudden I was there. I hit her on the back. Nothing happened. She looked panicked. Like I wouldn't be able to help her. I hit her again. She let out half a cry and that was all. She was breathing and acted like nothing happened. I don't know if I was more relieved that she was ok, or freaked out that she almost wasn't.

I sat on the chair and held her tight and cried. I cried when I called Tony, cried when he came home, crying now. I know she's ok. I know this probably happens to alot of babies and I know that it might be worse in my mind than it should be because I'm her mother. But all I keep thinking is that she could have died. What if I had gone to the bathroom? What if I had gone to make something to eat? What if I hadn't been there when she made that barely audible choking sound? I keep playing it over and over in my head.

I didn't eat or pee until Tony got home. She's still in a great mood. Still smiling more and fussing less. I'm still scared to leave the room, but I know it's not practical to think I can stare at her for the rest of her life. I just thank God I didn't leave the room. And hope I'm always there when she needs me to be.


Because baby poop is not enough

I went to the bathroom the other day and when I flushed it, it sounded funny. But of course I barely had time to pee in the first place, so there was no way I had time to actually check the toilet to make sure nothing was wrong with it. By the time Tony got home I had completely forgotten the whole thing.

Today I go in there to NOT pee. I noticed when I flushed that it didn't really work and since Tony was home I went out to tell him, This was about the same time that Eliana decided to scream her little lungs off and the binky fell on the floor, so I had to get a clean one and you get my point. So I forgot about the toilet. Again.

A little later (as in 20 minutes ago) Tony come up to me and says, "You know you could flush the toilet." I informed him that it was stopped up and I meant to tell him ealier and just shut up and fix it already. So in we go. After lifting the lid, Tony informs me that he's not fixing it eww gross nasty the plunger will get gross and not fixing it. "Ok, what exactly are we supposed to do? You HAVE to fix the toilet cannot go without toilet." Tony the replies with, "When hell freezes over". What a handy guy I have.

So I grab the plunger and plunge for a good long time. Want to make sure I got it all. It is gross and nasty and ewww. I then flush the toilet and OH SHIT!





(I should mention here that Tony is out in the hall holding the baby up for protection. Little chicken.)

So I get the water turned off and thankfully, it didn't overflow. It tried to though. Right to the very top. So it goes down. I plunge for 5 minutes, flush with fingers crossed, say prayer and all is flowing again. Hooray. I am awesome. Tony sucks ass.

The end.


You know you're tired when...

Tony: You know I could always get another Master's the next time I'm on shore duty through TA (basically: blah blah blah blah and also blah)

Me: Why?

Tony: I dunno

Me: You should just get a PhD.
Then you could be a doctor.
You could be Doctor Tony!
Then people could call you 'Doc'!
And you could come home from work and I could say "What's up Doc?"!
And then I could give you a carrot!

*crazy giggle starts*

Tony: I like carrots. *long pause* *blank stares* What were we talking about?

Me: I may possibly blog this.


Oh how I've missed you

My cable went out today. Also, cable internet. I thought it'd be like an hour, but no, it was all day long. They had to send someone to fix it. So I couldn't do all my internety type things OR watch TV. Sucky sucky day. And the baby slept. And the house is basically clean. So I had nothing to do all day long.

I have this blog idea I've been toying with for a while and I plan on writing it (have started, in fact) once I figure out if I should post a certain video that my daughter may possibly kill me for someday. It's her pooping. I mean, she's clothed and diapered, so all you see is her very grunty face that will make you laugh.I just don't know if it would be appropriate to post or not. And without it my blog is much less funny. So until then, you get my blog of why I wasn't here. And the reason was no internet. Possibly aliens.


Nothing Better

I gave Eliana a bath. Tony dried, lotioned, diapered, and clothed her. Then I fed her while Tony read her a story. Now I'm sitting here listening to the monitor while Tony hums her to sleep. Life doesn't get any better than this. And now I think instead of playing with the internet, I'm going to snuggle with my family. Tomorrow I'll write more.