That La Kid

wishin' an' hopin'!

love stinks.

Guess what I got for Valentine’s Day?!

So, Bruce and I were laying in bed watching e-cards from Gran when I noticed his jammies were wet.  Oh no, so is the blanket.  Dammit, so is the mattress.  So, I scoop him up and change his diaper and plop him in the car seat.  I put the comforter in the wash, take off the sheets… I guess I could have spot cleaned, but I told you guys a long time ago that I hate dirty, nasty, pee pee, poo poo stuff.  On that note…

I did what I could to blot out the pee from the mattress without rubbing it in a whole lot.  I sprayed it with Resolve and just tried to work it out without working it in.  I’m content with my efforts, but will probably have Tom give it a go later anyway.

I grab Bruce.  Because the poor baby is just in a diaper, I head towards his room for clothes– is that poop?!  Did you poop in the diaper that I JUST put on you 5 seconds ago?!  You suck.

I don’t really stand at the changing table and wipe incessantly when he poops.  They’re squishy and slimy, so I dunk him in the sink.  Usually Bruce sits under the running water of the faucet.  Tom thinks it’s weird.  But a little soap and water, BOOM, we’re done.

So, we’re in the sink, loving our mini-bath/bidet.  Thank goodness it wasn’t a whole heck of a lot of poop– AHHH!  What is that?!  Pooping.  In the sink.  Great.  Okay.  Swell.

I’ve got no problem with it until I realize that unlike it’s Bruce-butt-smashed counterpart, diaper poop, sink poop does not go down the sink.  No.  It clogs that sucker right up.

So, now the water is running, Bruce is sitting in a bath of his own yellow poop, and I’m up to my elbows in it, frantically trying to wipe the poop out of the drain with a wipe — because EW, poop! — and geez, I guess it would help if I turn the water off.

FINALLY, I get the drain cleared, and wipe the sink clean and resume soaping Bruce up under the faucet.  What a nightmare that was!  Wait until everyone hears!  Wait until I tell Tom!  Tom is going to think this is so funny!

Man… I don’t think I have ever had this much residue on me.  It’s still all over his butt despite all that rinsing– oh.  That would be because HE IS POOPING AGAIN. 

Filled the sink.  Twice.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody!  Enjoy your chocolates!

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head down

Hook Hand Thug: Head down.
Flynn Rider: HEAD DOWN!
Hook Hand Thug: Arms In.
Flynn Rider: ARMS IN!
Hook Hand Thug: Knees apart.
Flynn Rider: KNEES APA – Knees Apart?

Little Happy’s head is down… “That boy has assumed the position!”  I don’t know how anyone can tell that by looking at my stomach, but apparently Dr. Wolanski can.  Feeling kind of crampy, but now that I think about it, it’s not as bad as regular period cramps, but it is a sign that my body’s getting ready to get this wagon train a-rollin’.  Everyone says when it’s labor you will definitely know – so I’m not worried about that.  Dr. Wolanski said he’s 95% sure this week will be uneventful and it’s safe to go back to Charlotte, so that’s what we did.  Doc also said that if the worst should happen, you know, if my water does break – we have plenty of time.  Just call him, tell him what’s happening and he’ll tell us what to do.

So, this week will be spent packing and cleaning and packing some more.  I need to buy a car seat, probably from Craigslist for the time-being.  I also need a solid name.

I want a really good name, like Thomas Andrew La or Wendy Michelle Johnson.  I had so many excellent girl names.  Oh boy, what am I going to do.

I think I also need to print and fill out one of those birth plans.  How does that work?  Does anyone in the hospital actually read/honor those?  I spent a lot of time telling Tom my demands last night on the way home.  It’s nice to have that dude in my corner 24/7.  An example is, okay, there will be hundreds of thousands of photos taken of this kid throughout his lifetime… I want Daddy to take the very first one.  I can’t think of other things on the birth plan.  Drugs, yes.  Water birth, no… although I really would like an excuse to get in the Jacuzzi in my MJH birth room.  Keep the placenta, HELLLLLLLL NO.

I get updates from different baby websites in my inbox, today: “Especially for you this week on thebump.com: CRAZY Labor and Delivery Stories!”  Really, thebump.com?  Why the HELL would you think I want to read that right now?

Uncle Haley turned 22 on the 22nd.  Dee Dee came and it was like, “Birthdays all around!”  She brought me a birthday present and Mom a birthday present and Haley a birthday present and Baby a birthday present!  She had some things off the registry including the first thing I registered for (back when I thought we were pregnant in Sept. 2011):

 

It makes me SO happy, and is going to look great in his room next to his orange lamp.  It reminds me how devastated I was when my period came that time, and how elated we were to finally get that positive test a few months later.  She bought a Finding Nemo sleeper that features Bruce and the other sharks, it really makes me want to name him Bruce.  That thing is SO much cuter in person than online!  It’s no longer in stock, and I feel like I want to find it in every size now.

I need to finish the changing table.  It’s almost all sanded… and I need to paint it.  I was always planning dark blue and lime green, even back when I was sure my baby was a girl.  I never bought newborn cloth diapers.  I think I’ll just have to use the disposables while we’re in VA and work out the cloth when we get back home.

I’m slowly, and I mean slowly getting excited about seeing his face.  This surprise has been building for months and months… and is finally about to be revealed.  You know that I’m crazy and have only been cautiously optimistic all this time.  I start thinking about how “all this time” goes back to the Super Bowl.  Tom and I were both in the bathroom and just cried and cried.  Happy crying!  Really, I thought something might be up when Dad, Lindsay, Haley and I went to Daytona for the Rolex 24.

We went over to WDW and took this picture at Animal Kingdom the day before the race.  Look at my face.  I’m thinking, “they don’t even KNOW!”

Yeah. Right now it’s a cartoon lion baby. Give it 9 months.

I’m not sure why Dad’s yawning.

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a funny thing happened on the way home…

I think Haley’s on to me.  And I’m worried I doth protest too much.  She asked me yesterday if I was going to do “BabyWithoutDebt.”  Hm.  She’s too smart.

 

Speaking of BabyWithoutDebt… funny story.  Tom, Jasmine and I rode out to Toys R Us last night because they have the best deal on the Lady and the Tramp 3 Disc Blu-ray set.  As it turns out, they were out of Lady and the Tramp, but we saw a changing table for $25.  It was already assembled, and looked like it would fit in the car.  Maybe.  I took a second glance – no way, it’s too big.

 

We went out to the car and looked at the trunk, the backseat.  It should fit!  Even if I have to ride home with the dog on my lap, we can make it work.  Tom said, “I don’t know, it’s also pretty beat up.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but it’s like we’re making $50.”  It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but for $25… I had a hard time leaving it at the store.  So, I sent Tom back to pick it up.  He walked out of the store beaming, but as he got closer and closer, the changing table got larger and larger.  Shit.  It’s not going to fit.

 

We popped the trunk, and tried every angle to make it fit.  Okay, alright, fine.  So it doesn’t fit in the trunk.  No problem!  Surely it will fit in the back seat!

 

Don’t call me Shirley.

 

I put Jasmine in the front seat and we tried to shove it in the backseat.  No dice.  By now, Toys R Us is closed, and we have an audience of people sitting in the parking lot watching our shenanigans.  Did you know that Dollar Tree is open until 10 pm?!  Neither did I.  We’re art majors.  We’re creative.  Maybe I can find something in there… maybe a rope.  We have the blanket for the dog in the back seat, maybe we can put the blanket on the roof of the car and strap the changing table onto it.

 

At first, all I could find was yarn.  Then I found a pretty sturdy clothesline.  I’d better grab scissors… what else… A SCREWDRIVER… just in case.  Although I really don’t want to take that whole thing apart.

 

This time I was the one walking out of a store beaming.  I sauntered across the parking lot, holding up my Dollar Tree bag above my head in triumph.  I felt like a hero.  I told Tom the plan, and he said, “Really?  Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Will it compromise the structural integrity of the changing table?”

“No.  I don’t think so.”

I sighed, “…alright.”

 

And there we sat, Tom, Jasmine and I, in the middle of an almost vacant parking lot, taking this changing table apart one screw at a time under the watchful eye of laughing strangers.  About a half an hour later, we got the damn thing disassembled and in the trunk of my car.  It really wasn’t too tough, and breaks down to practically nothing.

 

For a while, I really thought we were completely sunk.  It was a lot of work, but hey – we made $50!

 

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