Before I get too distracted and overcome by "Mommy-Brain," and pretend I can multitask, I should note the important stuff:
Quinn is doing fabulously, she has adjusted very well to her new home and is sleeping as soundly as anyone can when explosions are occurring in their pants.
Although still dependent upon that nasty penguin food (a story for another time), she is thriving just fine. At last weigh-in, she was a whopping 6lbs 4oz. Before too long, she'll have doubled in weight, and -- I like to think -- in cuteness.
She was pretty darn cute at birth, and maybe it's just me not being terribly current with the younger generation's fads, but I just don't find translucent skin all that flattering.
Lucky for Quinn she isn't a teenager and doesn't realize I'm already doing a stellar job embarrassing her whenever presented the opportunity.
Like this morning when I went to bring in the recycling bins and I bumped into a neighbor who kind of looked at me funny but didn't say anything . . . about the hands-free breast pump I still had attached to my waist, like the most ridiculous iPod leftover from the '80s. (Thank goodness I had the sense to take the upper and more revealing part off before venturing outdoors!)
Just the other evening, I fooled myself into believing I was acclimating to the lack of sleep and serious consumption of mental energy that comes with constantly thinking about someone else eating, breathing, and pooping.
That's about the time I felt my leg getting wet and I looked down annoyingly expecting to see the dog drooling on me, when I realized I'd been prancing around my parents' house -- with freshly cleaned carpets -- all the while pumping breastmilk without a bottle attached to collect the damn stuff. Awesome.
I'm becoming that sad clash of cool technology meets pathetic. It's official; I have arrived at parenthood.
If she's paying any attention to what a blockhead I am, Quinn's first words will surely be "Mooom! Stop, you're so embarrassing me!" Poor kid.
Until my next excellent blunder...
Love,
the Bonehead & Her Teeny Tot
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2 comments:
Glad to hear that things are going well
When she gets toilet trained, I guarantee you'll put her on the potty and forget she's there. I did that once when I was working with young kids and that poor kid probably still has a red ring on his butt.
Still anonymous because I can't find my password.
Love, auntisooz
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