Another question, another day

I'm wondering if I'm the only person who does these two oddball things, and perhaps what they mean. I *have* found over time that NONE my own unique idiosyncrasies are either my own or unique, so that should count for something.

First. I used to do this when I was little and bored on a car ride. As we'd drive along the street, I'd mentally draw a line between a car on one side to the car on the other. The moment the line connected, I'd mentally blow both cars up. Sometimes I still do it, but mostly I'm plotting how I could REALLY blow up the cars that are actually being driven.

There are two variations to this mental imbalance. The first is drawing mental lines in between poles or signs on the sides of the road and clicking them off, and the other is drawing mental lines between cars.

Still with me?

This other is a recent manifestation perhaps derived from when I was with my ex. The first couple of years, I had the only car between us and because it was an insane car, I drove everywhere. My ex always picked the radio station (I'd say 75% of the time it was the same one) and I never, ever changed it. So that's a bit obsessive, but sweet, too, in my sicko mind.

The recent peculiarity is this: When I get home late at night from work (and I only do this then), I click off my radio before pulling into my driveway. But I can't turn it off on a "bad" word. It has to be something good or fun or some such. So if it's, let's say, "Stupid Girls" by Pink, I wouldn't be able to turn it off on the word "stupid," but "girls" would be fine. And if I don't get it turned off in time, I HAVE to wait for a new "good" word.

There you have it. A brief glimpse into my head.

Scary, ain't it?

Now what?

So you haven't heard from me in a bit because I'm trying to think about the direction of this blog. Should I continue the same track, now that the suspense is gone and you all know my story indeed has a happy (joyous) ending? Certainly, Ella's story doesn't end here. She's now a marvelous 10 months old, almost crawling (if that darn arm wouldn't just STICK there when the legs go from behind!), babbling and so on. Just as happy as can be, too.

The ironic thing is, so many times along the way in writing this, I would be frustrated by my self-imposed structure because something would strike me and I would want to blog about it. A few times, I did. But mostly I didn't, and now that I have the freedom, so to speak, to do so, I can't think of a single blasted thing.

Perhaps I'll throw some random bits out here, a few pictures for now. Because I have a good thing going here, and I don't want to stop now.


This is Ella's LAST night in the hospital! I'd decided I wanted to have the "traditional" hospital experience, so she and I roomed in that final night. Looking back, I'm not sure what the heck the attraction was for me. Capturing some of what was lost, I suppose. But I didn't get a lick of sleep. Hmm. Perhaps it was EXACTLY like a "real" experience, lol. But it was kind of sad, too. I think I wanted it to be just me and her, but I realize how lonely it was that night. And when I left the next day, it was just Ella and I and a nurse walking us out to the car. No family, no friends, no flowers and balloons and being pushed in a wheelchair. But I did get Ella. And so the baby and I made our way home together to start our new life.






Here's a funny, rare sight: Ella in her own bed! You know it's early on (the first day, in fact) 'cause she's so tiny, hunh? Now her bed's a nifty storage place for stuffed animals. Sometimes, she visits them to play. See that quilt under her? I bought that from an Amish woman in Intercourse, Penn. (hee hee)




The Morning After. I'd prepped for the night by having a stock of breast-milk filled bottles at the ready. And boy did we need them!




First bath. Not happy. Not at all.




Yo! Be-yotch! Bring me my bottle, check. (You can't see the thick rope of gold chains tucked under her chin.)




One of my favorite photos, hands down. Look at them adore each other! It's a small hint of the love to come.




Look how big the bonnet is on her head. She's wearing my favorite outfit of the time. It's now part of a shadowbox: A little pink pair of quilted overalls fits perfectly inside an 11"x17" shadowbox. A little pink pair of quilted overalls that once were too big for my daughter.




Yes, it was THAT engrossing!




Shhhh! My babies are sleepin'.

BIG NEWS ALERT! ... with multiple pictures!

Yes, yes, you've been so patient. Good job. Now, it's back to the desperate race to catch up with the present. Speaking of presents, I have one at the end of this p-oh-oh-st.

Dec. 17: To see Ella:) 3 13 1/2 ounces. She nurses and roots.

Dec. 18: To see Ella-Bean: Just for 1/2 hour. 3 14 1/2 ounces:) Back after work for a couple of hours. Tried breastfeeding ... and she is 4 pounds, .06 ounces. (Don't believe me? I was THERE! See?)



Dec. 19: To see Ella:) Briefly before work to drop off milk. She's doing well w/bottles.



Dec. 20: Meet R (w/her L) at hospital at 12. To see Ella:) 4, 1.7. Has runny nose, though. I feel bad.

Dec. 21: To see Ella:) Stayed a few hours:) 4.3

Dec. 22: To see Ella:) 4.5

Dec. 23: To see Ella:) 4.7. Nurse says maybe 2-3 weeks!

L holds her!



Dec. 24: To see Ella:) w/L. 4.8. She takes 10 cc nursing:) (An aside: Here's some L brilliance: L: "I'm a nut and I'm very valuable." Me: "To who?" L: "Squirrels.")


Dec. 25: To see Ella:) with sister. 4 9.6. Here's the exciting news: She pulled out her feeding tube and they left it out!! She take full feeding by nursing (for an hour!!) To see Ella:) after work for coupla hours. 4 10.6. (Note: One of the nurses tells me I need to start clearing out some of the things Ella's accumulated — photos, clothes, pictures, etc. I'm kinda offended, but I do it. She also tells me I should come to rounds later that morning, but since it's like 3 a.m. and rounds are at 7 a.m., I decline. I'm such a dumb ass. Read on.)

(Here's Sister holding Ella, for first time, on Christmas Day:) Small on purpose.



(Here are FIRST photos of my baby girl without ANY TUBES, WIRES, ETC. !!!!!!!!!!!! :)





READY FOR IT??? Dec. 26: Today when I call, (nurse) Christine says, "You're not going to believe this ... (dramatic pause) They're talking about sending her home Friday." MAMA INSANITY ENSUES!!

I do go To see Ella:) later, but only after visiting many, many, many baby stores and give official word at work:

My maternity leave has begun!

Confession

I'm waiting to hear from L (who's at his grandparents') so I can talk to him specifically about the C.D.I., but in the meantime I have something I need to tell everyone before I get back to Ella review. It's not easy to say this, so I'll just have to spit it out.

Deep breath. OK. Here goes.

I listen to country music on the way home from work.

I know! I know. sigh. I could have just kept this secret, but it's been weighing on me. Heavily.

I feel so ashamed.

sob

And I realize now that it's probably something I need to let go of. Listening to, gulp, country music and being a naturally depressed person ... well, it's just sick. Sick!

I have to say it likely began in Mexico. When L and I were in Puerto Vallarta on a day-trip pirate ship adventure, the "pirates" had Big & Rich's "Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)" blaring from the so-authentic loudspeakers on the ship. Being in a sun-drenched locale full of slightly dressed sexy people, hearing a provocative song ... well, let's just say I was intrigued. So after we got back to the States, I added the song to my iPod. Yes. I paid MONEY for a country song.

And once you get a taste ... well, it was impossible. Sure, I can use the excuse that my radio dial had been programmed to another station that switched formats to become a country station. But am I just fooling myself?

I tried! I really tried to stick with the alternative station I love so much. But my fingers would twitch on the drive home from work. And the public radio station at that time too often discussed heavy topics I didn't want to hear, having been at work all day. And the alternative station at this time was a bit, well, too alternative.

So what I like about country music is that it tells a story most of the time. Yes, there's the same-old, same-old maudlin crap, but there's some funny shit, too. For example, some lyrics:

She said, "I'm going out with my girlfriends"
margaritas at the Holiday Inn
oh mercy ... my only thought
was tequila makes her clothes fall off

I told her put an extra layer on
I know what happens when she drinks patron
her closets missing half the things she bought
tequila makes her clothes fall off

ch....she'll start by kicking out of her shoes
lose an earring in her drink
leave her jacket in the bathroom stall
drop a contact down the sink

them pantyhose ain't gonna last too long
if the DJ puts Bon Jovi on
she might come home in a tablecloth
tequila makes her clothes fall off

Funny, hunh? How about:

I’m the son of a 3rd generation farmer
I’ve been married 10 years to the farmer’s daughter
I’m a God fearin’ hard workin’ combine driver
Hoggin’ up the road on my p-p-p-p-plower
Chug a lug a luggin’ 5 miles an hour
On my International Harvester

Three miles of cars layin’ on their horns
Fallin’ on deaf ears of corn
Lined up behind me like a big parade
Of late to work road-raged jerks
Shoutin’ obscene words flippin’ me the bird

Well you may be on a state-paved road
But that blacktop runs through my payload
Excuse me for tryin’ to do my job
But this year ain’t been no bumper crop
If you don’t like the way I’m a drivin’
Get back on the interstate
Otherwise sit tight and be nice
And quit yer honkin’ at me that way

OK. Sometimes, they're really really sad, like this one about exes trading the kids:

Every other Friday
It's toys and clothes and backpacks
Is everybody in?
OK let's go see Dad
Same time in the same spot
Corner of the same old parking lot
Half the hugs and kisses
There are always sad
We trade a couple words and looks and kids again
Every other weekend

And then there's this one. It always gets to me. (Wonder why.)

Got my face pressed up against the nursery glass
She's sleepin' like a rock
My name on her wrist
Wearin' tiny pink socks
She's got my nose, she's got her mama's eyes
My brand new baby girl
She's a miracle

The cookie dough incident

OK, so this has nothing to do with Ella, but it's really weighing on me and I need to do something to relieve the angst, if possible.

L requested for his treat cookie dough during my last grocery trip, and I complied. So last night, I went to have a glob or two and discovered just three left. Out of the whole package.

It had been a long, busy day, the baby was to bed and I wanted to just sit with my kid on the couch, each of us with a book in hand, nose in book, and eat something crappy for my fat ass.

Three cookie dough globs in the whole package.

I took a bite of one.

And then L asked me if he could have them.

At this point, I totally lost my temper. In true asshole fashion, I shoved the package at him and launched into dramatic tirade about how I never get anything for myself, that I have to share everything, blah blah blah. I then basically threw the half-eaten blob onto the package and told him to eat it all.

Is it normal to shove your problems down an 8-year-old's throat? How about a day after the child has turned 8? Yes, it had been his birthday the day before.

After some back-and-forthing with him telling me never mind, he ate the two blobs. But it doesn't end there.

I tried to make him eat the half-eaten blob as well.

And then I made him cry as I told him he had to eat it.

At some point, I came back to understanding exactly what a fucking wretched thing I was doing (not to mention stupid. You force kids to eat vegetables, not cookie dough) and I quit. This is the shit that haunted children carry with them into therapy sessions. Crazy-ass mothering.

So I quit yelling at my little boy. After I made him cry.

For being an 8-year-old boy who wanted cookie dough.

Some questions

So I've been wondering about a few things, probably all of them things I could find answers to if I actually decided to make the effort. But I haven't. So here are a few.

1. Newborns are screened for a certain number of genetic illnesses/predispositions to those illnesses. At what point was my daughter screened? Or was she?

2. Does the fact that Ella's dad puts her to bed with the radio on mean she's going to be one of those people who always has to have some kind of noise in the background to calm down and focus?

3. Because of when my daughter was born, she's going to be one of the oldest kids in her classes. Is this going to result in her being the illegal-substance/item-buyer for her underage peers?

4. Being born 3 1/2 months early not only put Ella into a different Zodiac sign, it also put her in a different year according to the Chinese calendar. What do I go by when it comes to determining her astrological inclinations? When she was physically born? Or when she was suppose to be? This is a big question for me, ironically bigger than any of the other issues.

And JUST where have you been, young lady?

Here and there and a bit of everywhere. Some time off with family. Busy time for birthdays. Did you miss me ferociously? Is it weird I'm asking this question when no one reads my blog? Does this mean I'm talking to myself? Does it matter?

Ahhh, the profound mysteries of life.

Dec. 10: To see Ella:) 3.4 1/2. SHE NURSES!!! :) Residual is a cc of my milk! (Definition time. Residual is the amount that's left in the baby's stomach after she eats. The nurse uses a syringe to suck out the contents of the stomach through the baby's feeding tube, note how much is there, then return it. Pretty horrible, isn't it? It's so they know much the baby is getting to eat.)

Dec. 11: To see Ella:) 3.5. Nurses more; takes 1/2 of feeding via bottle:) SO cute!


Dec. 12: To see Ella:) Just for a bit. She's 3.6 :)

Dec. 13: To see Ella brfly:) 3.8. Then after work. 3.9.

Dec. 14: To see Ella:) 3.9. Nursed brfly. (Son and I ate dinner at hospital. And DRESSED the baby in actual clothes. So cute! I've never had dress-up tendencies, but how could anyone resist this little "doll?")



Dec. 15: Ella:) 3.10 (I didn't stay long at all, just dropped off my milk because I was sick. I was so devastated not to be able to see the baby. I felt so awful.)

Dec. 16. Ella:) TO CRIB!!! 3 pounds, 12 ounces (lots of smiley faces)



And here's a final photo to show ... it's Christmas time! Isn't she gorgeous?