Essential Baby Gear: Great Husband

I’ve pretty much known from the beginning that I scored in the husband department, but having a kid has confirmed it. My husband is already a great dad. He’s practically a natural. He was a little slow on diaper changes at first, probably because he has never experienced explosive poop or actually getting peed on. I mean, he left the baby’s bare butt on the expensive changing table cover. (That’s for looks, dude- use the cheap Target disposable liner on top. Or at least put a diaper under his heinie.)
But let’s get back to all the stuff that he does right.
He’s been forcing me to sleep. That has probably saved us at least 5 emotional breakdowns from me because I’m not exhausted.
He holds the kid.
He’s a good swaddler.
He goes to the store to buy stuff that we need.
He brought me whatever I needed when my butt was sore.
When I start crying because I don’t totally feel physically better yet, and am tired of needing help and not being able to move around as much as I want, he calms me down really kindly.

Above all he has been a good influence on me. He’ll put the baby in the Pack and Play, turn on our nanny cam, then go in the next room. I’d never think of doing that- leaving the baby in the next room- but it’s a rational and healthy thing to do. I’d be holding the kid on my chest the whole time, but I’m slothful enough as it is. It’s good for me to go shower or put up a blog post. Or say, eat breakfast. Or do some pelvic floor exercises and pelvic tilts to start getting my core back into shape.
I think my husband has already made me a more relaxed parent, because I tend toward paranoid stress bucket. I think this is why I’m able to put in my earplugs and sleep at night, rather than listening for every little noise. Babies can make a lot of damn noise in their sleep.

Oh my husband has also been making me laugh a lot.
A couple days ago, I’d do this thing where I’d act like a total bitch for no reason, and rather than responding meanly back to me, he’d say something totally funny and make me laugh while at the same time making me realize I’m acting insane.  Problem solved.

I am NOT happy my husband goes back to work tomorrow, but I’m lucky to have had him here as long as I did- a whole week. My mom comes up tomorrow, so that should make the transition easier.

PS- what scares the crap out of me is how randomly I met my husband- the fact that I could have easily not met him is too terrifying to consider. Because I don't believe in fate- that's just something that makes people feel better about how random the universe is. Click here to read full entry.

Thoughts on My Other Blog

1. That I love posting about my husband. He is such a funny person, but so much more private and reserved than me, so I am always so gleeful when I mention him on a site that over 200 people read every day. For example, in today's post, I mention that he implied I burned down his favorite restaurant.

2. That it makes me tougher. My readers tend to be really positive (I have no idea why I get that lucky- I think I just happen to have cool readers), but occasionally, someone will say something rude. For example, the other day someone called me a sellout for considering buying a Mercedes crossover wagon (used!!! it's used!!! OK!!!). For an instant, I felt bad, then that was washed away by a "Whatever." Followed by "It's kind of funny to be called a sellout." I mean, to receive attention of any sort is pretty flattering!
Also, I like that other people have opinions.  I love expressing my opinions, and people read me because I have strong opinions. Why shouldn't they express theirs?

3. That I'm born to blog. I have a constant stream of words in my head. I'm always thinking, talking to myself in my head, thinking about what I'm doing and seeing and what I can do with that info. I've always done that, at least since college, and probably before.  I used to put all that in my journal, and it rarely ended up turning into any sort of writing piece. I would not call most of my blog post "pieces," but I've turned a couple posts into columns for a local paper, and I do think a few of my posts are well written. Now I only journal to get my feelings out. I miss journalling a little, but I tell my husband most of what I think, so I need my journal less now. Before the husband and blog, I had a LOT of thoughts floating around that I needed to capture and put into a semblance of order.

I could think of a lot more, but it's 3 am, and I should get back to bed because I am not really sure school will actually be cancelled tomorrow due to snow. Cough woke me up, plus, when I go to bed before 10, I tend not to sleep through I've been up since 12:30 or so, blogging, reading my google reader, etc. Click here to read full entry.

Choosing Baby Names

Me, last week: I found some great baby names.
C: Oh yeah, do you have any good ones?
Me: Yeah, but I’m not willing to share them yet and have my hopes dashed. I want to cling to my names a little longer.

I held onto the name I really liked for maybe 20 more minutes, then I said it, and it basically got dashed. After that little exchange, we spent an hour looking at baby name sites, and we now have a short list. C has a name that he likes a lot. We were discussing that name a couple days ago.

Me: That name is pretentious!
C: I'm a pretentious person! I think it fits! We've got to get away from all those Southern sounding names that you like.
Me: The South is pretentious in its own way. You're just not nuanced enough to appreciate it.

Rejected Names:
Merlin
Stone
Steel
Baby X
Alpha
Snake

Other rejected names:
Cosmo
King Arthur
Stewie
Barack
Hussein
Obama
Orion
Jupiter
Raiden (Japanese God of Thunder)
Rocket

C, just now, because I sent him another baby name site: "Evo. No, that's bad.
Cosmo. What's wrong with Cosmo?
Cosimo. Lucius. That sounds good.
Siris. Romulus. Now that's a name everyone likes.
Tiberius. Tiberius needs to be in the kid's name somewhere, just so you know. I like Tiberius. Tiberius, the name of an important Roman emperor. OK, so Tiberius it is.
Primus. Oh, there we go, Primus. Are you writing that down?

...You know, Cabbage Patch Kids come with a name, how come this one doesn't?" Click here to read full entry.

Battle of the Skimmed Milks

Give them an inch, and they buy 2 percent milk.

I, like any figure-conscious woman, drink skim. Duh. My health-clueless husband thinks he's fit enough to drink full fat milk. Uh... yeah. Since I do most of the shopping, I graciously began buying 1 % rather than skim for our cereal; I am not an unreasonable woman. Well, I guess I sent the wrong message with that. Now, my husband thinks he's too good for one percent.

Yesterday I bought milk because I figured we were almost out; turns out he did, too. This morning, I debated using the already-opened 2 % or... nope.  I opened another completely full bottle of milk-- the 1%--, just to spite him.

Don't buy me 2 % freakin' milk. That's the message I wanted to send. Click here to read full entry.