Thursday, January 29, 2009
"oh, this is some bullshit!"
Jay and i went out for the first time without littleface last weekend. he took me to see "unborn". i'm gonna stop getting excited about scary movies. i always get disappointed. except with the saw movies.
okay, so, in the days leading up to this little outing, i was pretty damn anxious and nervous and scared and excited and i kept feeling like i was gonna piss on myself with all these emotions mixing together. why does alcohol have to get all up in the breastmilk? WHY? WHY? WHY?!
i must say i really miss the anticipation and excitement of getting ready to go out for a night with Jay. i miss actually having to put effort in something besides figuring out ways to entertain a baby. i spent almost 3 hours on my hair making sure it was perfectly bone straight with nice big curls at the ends. i made one of my gays come over to wax my eyebrows. that shit was getting to an unnatural degree of hideosity. i don't really know if that's a word, but i just made it one. i couldn't really put much effort into getting dressed since we were just going out for a movie and a quick stop at wendy's, but fuck, i looked good in my little black sweater and blue jeans. and my sweet husband brought me flowers. he's so stinkin cute. i can almost forgive the fact that he left his dirty socks in the bathroom right in front of the fucking toilet.
twenty minutes before it's time to leave, i'm rethinking some shit. i do not want to leave my baby. i'm not putting her to sleep. if she falls asleep, i'll wake her up and she'll get all fussy and Jess won't want to deal with her. i am not leaving my baby.
i was gonna take ava and go hide in a closet but i never got a chance to because Jay picked me up and threw me over his shoulder caveman style and threw me in the car. it's funny now that i'm thinking about it, but i was actually really pissed when he did that because he messed up my hair.
and then there was the movie. oh, i hate stupid scary movies because they turn me into that stereotypical loudmouth black girl you do not wanna get stuck next to because i will talk the whole damn movie about how black people would never get caught up in that type of shit.
"why are you walking towards the woods? that's where shit goes down."
"oh heeeelll no."
"token black chick. yeah, she gon' die in a minute."
"ooh, he is fine. i'd hit it."
"ew, why you all on that nasty floor blowing chunks?"
"oh, this is some bullshit."
"what in the fuck?!"
i had myself a gay ol' time embarrassing my husband. and you know the spicy chicken sammich never fails me. but i could not wait to get home and hug and cuddle with my precious little bear i missed so much. i felt kinda bad that i'd left her for so long. however, i do look forward to my next night out in another 4 months.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
you are a very happy and healthy four month-old baby bear now. although, you were not very happy when mama and daddy took you to see your pediatrician for your checkup this past friday. this visit actually went a lot better than your previous ones..... but i don't think that's really saying much.
you have gotten so BIG! you weigh a little over 15 pounds now and right around 27-28 inches long. we can never get an accurate measurement of your length because you get all wiggly and fussy when we get to that part. maybe you don't like to be nekkid around strangers. you also got another round of vaccinations which was no fun at all. you have no clue how much it hurts me to see you cry. that's when daddy takes over because i'm pretty much useless at that point. he's a charmer; that's how he got me. ;-)
this month is very special for all of us. your daddy and i got married a year and a few days ago and you were conceived sometime during our honeymoon. so actually, if i'd carried you 40 weeks, you'd be 3 months old instead of 4. oh, but trust me, i'm not complaining; i don't think i would've lasted another 4 weeks of pregnancy and not killed someone. one day, you'll understand what i mean.
you got your first booboo last week. i thought i was gonna die, your daddy laughed at me, and you just gave me your usual 'what the fuck?' look. see, i kinda forgot to clip your fingernails after your bath and i didn't put on your little mittens when i put you down for your nap. so, when i got you up, you had this ginormous scratch on your itty bitty nose and the earth stood still. i may have overreacted just a little.
you've been trying to scoot the past couple of weeks and i don't really like it. you just turned 4 months old. i'm not ready for the scooting. scooting leads to crawling which leads to walking. stop it! i'm just now getting comfortable with you sitting up on your own for several minutes without tipping over. since your growth spurt, you're up a lot longer during the day with 2 short naps and 1 long nap and you pretty much sleep through the night. sometimes, you wake up around 3 or 4 in the morning a little fussy, but usually some cuddle time with daddy gets you right back to sleep. your pediatrician gave us the okay to start giving you rice cereal, but i think we're gonna wait a little longer. the boob juice seems to be doing a great job of filling you up.
my little honeykisses, you are such a joy to be around. you have so many funny little faces and that smile that brightens the darkest days and you're just a perfectly happy baby. as you get a little older, i'm learning not to smother you with so much attention and affection. i'm giving you more time to yourself in your crib and your bouncy and your swing. and instead of running over to you the second i hear a little whimper, i let you cry exactly 45 seconds before i pick you up and kiss your little face. 45 seconds really isn't much, but it seems like forever when there's a crying littlebug.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
i have the cutest little-faced baby ever. and i'm not biased one bit. there's just something bout babies, especially my own little one, that turns me into mush. she looks so stinkin cute in her little swing drifting off to sleepyland. and that swing? it vibrates and it plays music.
best. gift. EVER.
i'm starting to let her sleep in her crib in the nursery more often during the day so that the transition to her sleeping in there all night will *hopefully* be a little easier for the both of us. maybe for me moreso than for her because i usually end up checking on her every 10 minutes or just sleeping in the chair next to the crib. i know it's bad but i can't help it; she's my little baby bear.
i'm so anxious for my hubby to come home. i miss him when he's at work. we have plans to cuddle and watch tropic thunder for the 9345037409518236th time. and i'm gonna let him touch my no-no place. oh yeeaahhh.
Monday, January 12, 2009
i'm a mom.......?????........!!!!!!!
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
i am so damn tired. it looks like ava's
going through a growth spurt so there's no sleeping and lots of nursing. i'd
gotten so used to how scheduled she is that this shit is really taking me for a ride. and she's so stinkin
fussy. i think she's cussing at me because it's not like her normal cry and i can't say that i appreciate her tone right about now. the moms know that fuss i'm
talking about-- no tears, just a bunch of yelling. some days, 5:30 just cannot get here fast enough. [that's usually the time daddy gets home from work.
there's this dance class i really wanna join. for one, it'll help me get back in shape. i've
lost pretty much all of my pregnancy weight but i have almost no tone at all. i'm
just all fleshy and nasty-feeling. secondly, i get to dance again. i can't even remember the last time i went to a studio to shake what my mama gave me. buuuuuutttttt
, it is unbelievably hard for me to leave my little girl. if you saw my hair and my cuticles you'd know i'm
not bullshitting. one of my christmas
gifts from Jay was a day at the spa to be all pampered and whatnot and that shit pissed me off. what the fuck am i gonna do with a day at the spa when i'm
not even capable of taking out the trash or going to get the mail without feeling i've
abandoned and neglected my child? oh yes, the shit is that fucking serious. i can't even pee or take a shit without that little girl being in my view. the only time i'm
even slightly comfortable with not being with her is when i'm
asleep and she's with her daddy, her aunt, or my mom. those are the three people who spend the most time with her besides myself. i am completely aware i've
already started the mental damage that will have her in therapy for years.
speaking of therapy, over the christmas
holiday, my father contacted me to begin "working on our relationship" and to meet the fussybutt
. i can't lie, i was pretty fucking annoyed he waited THIS GODDAMN LONG for a fucking phone call. i mean, there was that whole time i was pregnant with ava
. oh, i got married too. i was pregnant before that and my baby died. i got engaged some time before that. i graduated from college with honors somewhere in between. oh, i almost died in a car accident. did i mention i met your bastard children once? i think one of those events would've been a good time to call or send an email or something. just sayin
still very bitter about a lot of things but we are talking, which is better than not talking i suppose and littleface
did get to meet her abuelo
. i got the cutest picture of her littlefatface
that i wanna post so badly but my husband thinks you're all sexual predators and/or babynappers
and gets pissed like you wouldn't believe every time i ask him about posting pictures of her. he's still not over me posting that last little picture of her and that i haven't removed it yet. he's a dickfart
like that. that's my man, though.
for the record, it took me exactly one hour to write this. everyone give ava
a round of applause for refusing to nap more than 30 minutes for the third consecutive day. this is a personal record for the little bugger.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
it's 2009. like, for real for real. where the fuck is my spaceship?
Jay: "fuck, dude. when i was a kid, i thought we'd be living like the jetsons or some shit in 2009."
Me: i don't know why you insist on calling me "dude". i've been fucking you for five and a half years and we're still not past that shit? and bitch, there were no black people on the jetsons. what you tryna say? you don't want no black people in your little world? you really think i won't divorce your stankin ass. i swear your daughter does not want me to have nipples."
Jay: why do you always have to talk about eleven thousand other things before addressing what the fuck i'm actually talking about?
Me: fuck, man. we're out of oreos.
Jay: SEE! that's that bullshit.
Me: nah, but for reals, where's my fuckin spaceship?
Jay: i know!
i've got lots of craziness going on in my head. i think too much and causes my brain to shut down leaving me with this stank ass look of confusion on my face and people think my attitude is all fucked up but really i'm just not capable of functioning at the moment. and it's not even serious shit i'm thinking about. well it kinda is, but not really. for instance, we have a housekeeper who does an awesome job at what she does. but i like to clean and there's never shit for me to do after she's been here. so then i'll go around the house fucking up shit to clean up but then i'll end up re-doing a lot of the stuff Josie's already done and when she comes back she's cussing me out in spanish because i won't let her do her job and then i feel bad cause she's totally right about me being an asshole.l
then, i have this battle with myself about ava and whether or not to spend money on expensive clothes and shit. i think i have a problem with shopping for baby stuff. it's all so cute and tiny though. and my baby deserves to be spoiled and shit...... even though she does not respect my nipple sensitivity.
and for a moment, i was looking at my little sweetface and wondered if i got the wrong baby. i mean, i know she's mine but she doesn't look jack shit like me. she has my lips and my eyes, but the rest is her daddy. she's got fair skin, his forehead, the nose, those ears, the chin, and now the hair. oh, the hair. i think that is what's really fucking me up. i was just convinced i was gonna have to deal with the mess my mom had to deal with; i was making preparations. not only is this shit turning from black to a light brown, and i'm gonna die if it gets any lighter, but there is not a kink or curl in this child's hair, what kind of fuckery? you got nigga blood flowing through your veins! i know that's a fucked up statement, but my baby is supposed to have curly hair. people just don't understand this shit. my mom was all like, 'oh, it'll curl up by the time she's 3 months old. that's how you and your sisters were.' well, bitch, it's 3 months, 1 week and 3 days. i don't see no damn curls and these funky ass ribbons and headbands do not stay put! i don't know how to do white people's hair!
and then, i have a husband who says the most fucked up shit in the world and does not even realize what the hell is coming out of his mouth. like a few weeks ago, after my birthday but before christmas, we had just had sex and were trying to get in as much cuddle time before lits woke up. this motherfucker looked me straight in the eye and said "i think i picked the wrong date to marry you."
"no, listen, see, first it's your birthday. then christmas. then our wedding anniversary. and then valentine's day. i don't get any recovery time."
"you like having balls, right?"
"huh? i don't get it."
no, dickfart, you don't. ugh. i just rocked your world for 20 whole minutes and you say some stupid shit like that? there are no words to describe the love i have for this man, but sometimes i really do wonder what the fuck is wrong with him and why he doesn't know when to just shut the fuck up. i'm gonna start making him write down his questions and comments and review them myself before letting him speak to me.
i'm bored and i have too much time on my hands.
happy new year, y'all!