I hate noses

Have you ever wanted to kill your husband for blowing his nose? Well, I definitely have.

Porgie woke up at 5:00 am, wanting a bottle. John got up and fed her. She was peacefully drifting back to sleep, when he decided to blow his nose. Now, he didn't just blow his nose once - he did it about 15 times. He was annoying me, but when he woke Porgie up, I became very angry. I asked him to go into the living room, which he refused to do.

I can honestly say that I wanted to punch him in the face. I am actually still pissed about it. Thanks to him, Porgie is now sleeping, and we are missing our swim class.

I know I sound irrational and crazy, but John is so fucking loud. He can't do anything quietly.

And besides, how hard is it to go into another room? GRRR

Why won't my baby drink her bottle?

Lately, Porgie doesn't want to take her bottle. She'll drink about 2 ounces and then push the bottle away. In any given day, she will only drink 10 to 15 ounces of formula - and that is with lots of pushing on my part.

I have tried giving her formula in a cup, but she drinks it too slowly. After the milk has sat out for about an hour, I get all paranoid about germs and bacteria. I end up tossing the majority of the milk. It very wasteful.

I understand that formula should be a large part of her diet, but I feel like giving up. Could it be possible that she is weaning herself off the bottle? Should I be trying to offer more milk in a sippy milk? I have even considered switching her to regular soy milk, hoping that she might like the taste better.

She has also been exceedingly fussy about eating her pureed fruits and veggies. She seems to only want to feed herself cheerios, waffles, and noodles. It is very frustrating. If she is already being a pain in the ass about food, what are the toddler years going to be like? HELL ON EARTH.

I mentioned her fussy eating habit to the peditrician. She assured me that Porgie will not starve herself - she'll eat when she is hungry. Of course, I still worry.

Since starting solids, I have noticed that Porgie has thinned out. I was actually kind of happy, because she was very close to being considered overweight. At her 6 month checkup, her weight was in the 95th percentile. At her 9 month checkup, her weight had dropped to the 75th percentile. If she continues at this rate, she is going to waste away to nothing.

My poor little precious baby

For the past week, I have been extremely sick. It was awful - throbbing headache, sore throat, phlegmy cough, runny nose, and watery eyes. I laid around the house, barely able to function. I am not happy to admit it, but Porgie watched endless hours of Baby Einstein.

On Tuesday, I finally started to feel a little better. I was very impressed by the fact that John and Porgie managed to avoid getting sick.

That night, Porgie woke up at 2:00 am screaming. I went into the nursery to feed her a bottle and realized that she was burning up. She had a temperature of 102. I gave her some Tylenol, stripped her down to her diaper, and brought her into our bed. As she snuggled up against me, I could feel the heat radiating off of her body. She was obviously uncomfortable, but at 3:30 am she finally fell back to sleep.

When Porgie woke up this morning, her head felt like a little ball of fire. Her temperature was still 102. I called the pediatrician's office and made an appointment.

I took my sweet little baby to the doctor, only to be told to give her more Tylenol. Oh yeah, and that she has a heart murmur. WHAT THE FUCK?

I am a bargain shopper. Are you?

I am going to apologize for this post in advance. You will probably be thinking, 'I don't care about this. Why is she even bothering to write this?'

I love to get a good deal, especially on baby clothes. Last Saturday, a woman at the YMCA told me about a sale at the Carter's store. All "spring play clothes" are 50% off. She also told me that I could print out 50% off coupons off the web, and I could use one coupon on every item I purchase. So, basically all of Carter's baby clothes are 75% off.

I ran home and tried to find the coupon on Carter's website. I looked and looked, but I couldn't find the coupon. So, I did a Google search and found the coupon on a blog.

I printed out 10 coupons and headed to the nearest Carter's store. This deal just seemed to good to be true, so I asked the sales lady if I could use a coupon on every item I purchase. She confirmed what the lady at the YMCA had told me.

Of course, I bought Porgie 10 summer outfits, and I only spent $40. THAT IS ONLY $4 AN OUTFIT - FROM CARTER'S!!!!!!!!!!! I saved over $145!!!!!!!!!!!

So, the moral of this story is to print out a bunch of coupons and get your ass over to a Carter's store. NOW!

Just a few of the adorable outfits I bought Porgie

And so it begins...

John and I moved to New Jersey in January of 2006. All of our neighbors seemed very nice. In fact, I was overwhelmed by their kindness. Needless to say, I liked them all.

The people who lived behind us had a pool, a trampoline, and a batting cage in their yard. I didn't really give much thought to this situation. During the summer, I would often hear their children playing in the pool until 10:00 pm. I was still surrounded by the confusion and stress that plagues all new parents. The noise was the least of my concerns. Besides, Porgie was sleeping in our room, and the noise was barely discernible.

Over the Fall and Winter, I seemed to have forgotten about their pool and trampoline and batting cage. Then yesterday happened.

I went to put Porgie down for her nap. Her room is located at the very back of our house. I could hear children screaming and laughing. I could also hear baseballs dinging against the metal batting cage. The noise was very loud. So loud, that I actually considered asking them to keep the noise down. John reminded me that children are allowed to play outside.

As you can probably guess, Porgie would not take a nap. I think she was fascinated by all of the unfamiliar sounds.

The reality of what this summer is going to be like has finally sunk in. I think I am in for a long, long summer - with no naps.

Woe is me. Please excuse me while I wipe the tears from my eyes. Sniff sniff.

A very scary 5 seconds...

On Thursday, Porgie and I went to the craft store. I was buying yarn for a baby Afghan I am making. I knew exactly what I was purchasing, so I didn't get a cart. I just plunked Porgie into her stroller.

I bought some super soft, beautiful yarn - white and purple. I also picked out a design for the blanket. After paying, we strolled out to the car. I unlocked the door and buckled Porgie into her car seat. I tossed the keys into my sweater pocket.

While hoisting the stroller into the trunk, I heard a jingly sound. As I absentmindedly closed the trunk, I saw my keys on top of the stroller, sparkling in the sunlight. It was too late. The trunk slammed shut.

Instantly I felt hot tears swell up in my eyes. I had just locked my keys in the trunk and my baby was stuck inside the car. I stared at her through the back window, and I started to feel panicky. Should I leave her to go call for help? Should I wait for someone to come out of the store? Should I just start screaming?

Suddenly I realized that the doors were unlocked - I had unlocked them to put Porgie in her car seat. So, I just opened the driver's side door and popped the trunk.

Man, that was a scary 5 seconds.

Purses and such

Because I am very sick, I am going to offer lots of pictures and very few words today.

I have an obsession with purses. I love love LOVE to get a new purse. And because I am insane, I refuse to throw away any of my handbags. Seriously, I still have every purse I have ever carried.

Below are a few of my purses. I think each bag reflects my personality at the time...

This is my little old lady handbag. I bought this purse at a thrift store because I was so cool and different and unique. By the way, it was handmade my Carol.

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This was another thrift store find. This was used during my hippy stage. Groovy design, huh?

This is my "sometimes I can be elegant" purse. It only makes appearances on really special occasions.

During college, I loved stitched bags. The more decoration, the better. I probably have at least 12 purses that look very similar to this one (different colors, of course).

This purse was purchased during my "I love corduroy" phase. Actually, I still love corduroy.

This is the purse I currently carry. Actually, it is more like a second diaper bag. It is filled with toys, bibs, and other pointless crap.

Everyone has a weird obsession with something. John refuses to throw away magazines, my mom collects creepy porcelain dolls, and my cousin has approximately 4,568 pairs of shoes. I know you have an obsession too. If you share, I promise I won't make fun of you (at least to your face).

Way too much information on sleep

Last Friday, I was talking with Eva via email. We were discussing Porgie's inability to sleep through the night. Neither of us could figure out the problem. So, I decided update my readers on everything related to Porgie's sleep. Some of this information as been discussed before, but I want to give you a clear picture of exactly what is happening. If you have any pearls of wisdom, please leave a comment. I am desperate for advice.

Porgie has been a horrible sleeper since day one. Initially, I believe her reflux contributed to her wakefulness. She was obviously in pain. At first, I just assumed her crying was related to gas. I tried to remedy the problem with Mylacon, to no avail. She was almost a month old before she was diagnosed with reflux.

Later, I believe the apnea monitor encouraged her wakefulness. We had many false alarms in the middle of the night. Both Porgie and I would be startled awake by the sound of that damn monitor. In my sleepy daze, it would often take a minute or two before I could figure out how to turn the machine off. It wasn't removed until my baby was 4 months old. By this time, I believe Porgie's sleeping habits were becoming ingrained.

After the newborn phase was over, I went out and bought this book. I read it from cover to cover, but could not bring myself to implement the techniques. It was basically a variation on crying-it-out. I went back to the bookstore and bought this book. The author also coslept with her children, and offered many gentle solutions to help your child sleep through the night. For weeks, I implemented her solutions. I failed to see any results. So, I decided to stop wasting my money on books that weren't helping.

However, this books did teach me the importance of developing a bedtime routine. Since about 3 months of age, we have used the same bedtime routine with Porgie. At 7:30, John gives her a bath. After the bath, she gets rubbed down with lotion. Then, John puts on her pajamas and sits her on my lap. He turns out the overhead light, and turns on the nightlight. I rock Porgie, while reading her 3 books. After the books, I feed her a bottle. She is usually out like a light around 8:00.

Although we successfully developed to bedtime routine, Porgie was still waking 3 or 4 times per night. After 7 months of sleep deprivation, I was slowly turning into a monster. As I explained earlier, the lack of sleep was making me a cranky and mean person. All of my relationships were beginning to suffer. Because I secretly enjoyed cosleeping with Porgie, I was reluctant to put her in the crib. After my body began showing signs of severe sleep deprivation (broken blood vessels in my eyes, horrible headaches, weird ridges in my fingernails, etc.), John decided that it was time to transfer Porgie to her crib. I was so grateful that he had finally stepped in. At that time, I needed someone else to take control of the sleep situation.

The transition to the crib was a lot less painful than I expected. We had a few rough nights, but she quickly learned that the crib was a place for sleeping. Now, I can actually put her in the crib wide wake, and she will put herself to sleep with 10 minutes - with NO CRYING. I read that once a baby learns how to put herself to sleep, she will naturally start sleeping for longer stretches. Of course, Porgie decided to take a different route.

At 9 months, Porgie still routinely wakes twice per night. She will not go back to sleep until I feed her a bottle. If I decide not to feed her, she will scream and scream and scream. I can only handle so much crying, before I break down and feed her. I honestly can't tolerate the screaming. It makes me nervous - almost panicky. My instincts tell me to go to her, comfort her, and feed her. It is an overwhelming feeling.

So, this is my current situation. How did you get your baby to sleep through the night? Tell me what worked for you.

Isn't she precious?

Dead man swimming

Porgie and I went swimming at the YMCA yesterday. It wasn't for a lesson, we just went to yell, splash, and kick our feet. After paying our two dollars, we quickly got ready and walked out to the pool.

Just in case you were wondering, on Monday mornings the YMCA is filled with old people. REALLY REALLY old people. I was the young whippersnapper in the pool.

Swimming with old people is fun, but it kind of freaks you out. On several occasions, I looked over to see a 90 year-old man floating on his back. Fear would rush through my body - was he dead? Fortunately, no one died.

Porgie had a fabulous time. She splashed and squealed in delight. She was a big hit with the old ladies. About 68 different women asked me how old she was. I had to listen to various stories about their children, their husbands, and their grandchildren. Let me tell you, it was FUN.

What is it about old people that makes them want to tell random strangers their life story? When I was in high school, I used to ride the bus to work. Everyday, I would get sucked in by some old person, who rambled on for the entire bus ride.

When you are 90 years-old, please don't tell everyone you meet about your 5 children, your 28 grandchildren, and your crabby old husband. They really don't care.

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This week has been very exciting. Porgie managed to crawl about 2 feet forward (we tried in vain to get her to repeat this phenomenal feat, but she refused), sit up on her own (After a nap, I went to get her out of the crib. She was sitting up!?!), and pull herself up on her activity walker (I didn't actually see this one, but John swears it happened). VERY EXCITING!

That insane post I wrote last week about her development, let's just act like that never happened. Okay???

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I was tagged by S. for a real moms meme. So here goes...

Real moms use their dogs as vacuum cleaners. Baby throws a noodle on the floor - call for the puppy dogs. Baby smears bananas on the couch - call for the puppy dogs. Baby leaves crumbs on the exersaucer - call for the puppy dogs. I wish I could say that I always wash the surfaces that the dogs lick, but I can't.

If it wasn't for my dogs, my house would be really gross. Thanks to them, it is only kind of gross.

I am not going to tag anyone, but feel free to do this meme on your own blog.

Sometimes I use my thinking brain

When my students were studying a particularly hard subject in school, I used to tell them to, "use their thinking brains." Of course, I rarely ever use mine - as noted here. So, imagine my surprise when Bon gave me a Thinking Blogger Award.

I feel very special and important and loved. Suddenly I am the cool kid in school. I know that all of you are totally jealous of my award. Gosh, I am so great!

All kidding aside, I am actually very honored. It feels great knowing that other people appreciate and enjoy my writing. Thank you Bon.

Now it is my duty to select five blogs that make me think. I have tried to link you to specific posts that I have found very thought provoking. Drum roll please...

Antropologa - This is a great read, especially for exclusive pumpers. Eva manages to inspire me with many of her posts.

Within the Woods - Suz is a mother of twins. I have nothing but the greatest respect for her. She has such a great prospective on life with her children.

Untangling Knots - This blog is the story of a new mommy. Her son Nate is still a little bitty newborn. She has experienced a horrible tragedy, but she has now found happiness.

Rancid Raves - This is a wonderful blog, that is always interesting. Cagey is currently organizing an online book club. She is definitely inspiring me to use my brain (I haven't read a real book in waaaaay too long).

Uncommon Nonsense - Tiffany is a great writer. Lately, she has been having a few marriage issues, but luckily things are on the mend. Her blog forces me to analyze my own marriage, and to appreciate my husband.

For those blogs selected, here are the rules.

Its the end of the world as we know it

Is it just me, or is anyone else completely freaked out by the weather? On Wednesday, the temperatures reached the mid 70's. It felt like spring, which seemed strange because it just started getting cold. I didn't actually take a picture, but it looked something like this.

Daisy enjoying the beautiful weather.

Yesterday morning, I woke up freezing. I went into the kitchen and looked out the door. This is what I saw.
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It was way too cold for Daisy to go outside.

I am thinking that Al Gore is probably right about that global warming thing. Something just isn't right...

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On a completely different note...

Over at Rancid Raves, Cagey is conducting an online book club. I think it sounds really fun, so I just wanted to share some information. She has suggested 3 books, and the one the gets the most votes by Midnight, Central Time, Monday, March 19th will be the book to be read. The book will be discussed via comments on April 30th. If you want to participate, go over and check out her post.

Zanzibar Shmanzibar

Have you ever got all wrapped up in a theme? Maybe its the elementary teacher coming out in me, but I LOVE themes. When I was pregnant, John and I fell in love with the "Zanzibar" theme. Since we decided not to find out the sex of our baby, this was a great gender neutral design.

So, we took our hard earned cash, and bought everything "Zanzibar."

We bought the bumper.


We bought the bed skirt.

We bought the valances and matching curtains.

We bought the diaper holder thingy.

We bought the mobile.

We even bought the "Zanzibar" light switch cover.

When Porgie started eating solids, of course we bought her the "Zanzibar" highchair.

Everything was fine and dandy, until we tried to wash our wonderful purchase. The highchair cover is DRY CLEAN ONLY. I am such a dumb ass.

Lesson learned: Make sure your theme is practical, not just pretty.

Sleepy Times at Porgie High

I often see little newborn babies at the store or on the street or at the pediatrician's office. I stare at them with a sense of wonder and amazement. I often think, 'I miss that stage. Newborns are so tiny and helpless.' Then I remember that newborns kind of suck. They sleep erratically, stay wake for hours in the middle of the night, and cry for no good reason. I look at my nine month old baby, and thank the lord that she isn't a newborn.

But just when I think I am past all of that crazy newborn shit, my nine month old starts acting like a jackass.

Porgie's sleeping patterns have gone into the crapper lately. For the past week, she has been waking up like clockwork at 1:30am and 5:30am. This is annoying enough, but she has also been waking up from her naps after only about 30 minutes. I am so frustrated, I want to scream.

Additionally, Porgie has been excessively fussy during the day (probably from the lack of sleep). She wants to be held nearly all of the time. She refuses to play with most of her toys. Even the Baby Einstein videos have lost their appeal. For the past few days, she has also been having a complete meltdown at bath time. She cries so hard, she gags herself.

Despite all of this, last night was the absolute worst night I have had in at least 7 months. The night started out innocently enough. We gave Porgie a bath (and she cried). Then, I read her a few books and feed her a big 8oz bottle. She was out like a light by 8:00pm.

John and I went to bed around 10:30pm. I was laying awake in bed, when I heard Porgie start to whimper. I could tell that she was still asleep, so I just listened. Suddenly the sleepy whimper turned into real screams. I went in her room and picked her up. She instantly calmed down and started sucking her thumb. I tried to lay her back down into the crib, but she started screaming again. So, I decided to bring her into our bed.

As soon as I put her down, she started screaming and crying. I didn't want to keep John awake, so I took her in the living room. I put her in her swing, which usually always puts her to sleep. Guess what? She screamed and cried and then screamed some more.

I took her back to the nursery and placed her in the crib. I figured that she was screaming and crying anyways, so why not do it in her own bed. She cried hysterically for 20 minutes. Finally, I went back in and picked her up. She continued crying until I turned on the light. I didn't know what to do with her cranky ass, so I read her a few more books. When she had calmed down, I took her back into our room. She rolled around and kicked the bed rail for hours. HOURS.

At 1:00 am, the entire house was still wide awake. Around this time, Porgie started crying again. John decided to get up and go to work - with NO SLEEP. Porgie continued crying and fussing. At about 2:00am, I tried feeding her another bottle. She refused it with great passion. I started having fantasies about leaving her on our neighbor's doorstep.

At 2:30am, I tried feeding her again. This time she drank about 2oz., but was still wide wake. I decided to place her back in the crib. After some off and on crying, she finally fell asleep around 3:00am. As you can imagine, I felt exhausted. I quickly drifted off to sleep.

At 6:45am, she woke up again. And she wouldn't go back to sleep. AGAIN. For the next 3 hours, she fussed and whined and was a general pain in the ass. At 10:00am, she finally settled down for a nap.

I feel totally depleted. When I start talking about wanting another baby, feel free to punch me in the face. Maybe it will knock some sense into my stupid ass.

My kid is smarter than yours

I know that its not fair to compare babies, but I can't help it.

I have been reading lots of blogs, where the author has a baby about the same age as Porgie. I read about all of the new things their babies can do, and I find myself feeling jealous. It seems like everyone's baby can crawl, pull up on furniture, and use sign language. Why can't my baby?

Porgie loves to push herself up on her hands and knees, but she never attempts to move forward. In fact, she typically just flails her limbs out straight after about 10 seconds. Sometimes she moves backwards, but not usually.

Porgie also loves to stand up while holding onto the crib rail or the coffee table. She can't pull herself up into this position, so I have to help her. She never attempts to cruise around while holding onto the furniture. Instead, she just stands there, flapping her arms in the air.

Okay, there is a really good reason why Porgie can't use sign language. I have never taught her any signs. However, I am beginning to feel like maybe I should.

I hate when I start feeling this way. I know that babies develop at different rates. But I can't shake the feeling that maybe I am doing something wrong. Is there any way to encourage her to crawl sooner? How do I help her understand the concept of pulling up?

I actually had to stop reading the various baby development books I bought shortly after Porgie was born. The milestone charts were starting to make me insane. I think I might have to stop reading some of these blogs too...

Holy gaucamole, I made a scarf!

I made a scarf. I MADE A SCARF!!! I don't think I need to say anything else.

I MADE A SCARF!!!

Inner city kids

When I tell people that I am originally from Kentucky, they always look amazed. They mindlessly blurt out, "But you don't have an accent." It is amazing how everyone seems to have a preconceived notion of what a person from Kentucky should be like. Apparently, I am supposed to be a hillbilly.

In reality, I grew up in a very urban environment. Crime, drugs, and poverty ran rampant in my hometown. My family was extremely poor. We never owned a house and we rarely had a running automobile. When we couldn't pay the rent, we left. Needless to say, my family frequently moved from one side of the town to the next. Life was hard, but I had never known anything else.

While growing up, I always wanted to be a teacher - even as a little girl. Knowing my family could not afford to send me to college, I applied for about 4 million scholarships. I ended up getting enough scholarship money to pay for my first three years of college.

After I graduated, I worked as a substitute teacher for a while. A few months later, I began working as a long term substitute for a special education teacher. I enjoyed this position, but it was a little overwhelming. I wasn't trained in special education and was confused by all of the paperwork.

After much debate, I decided that I really wanted to work in the inner city. I wanted to help the kids that really needed it - kids like me. By June, I had landed a position at an elementary school where 95% of the kids received free lunch (the poverty rates in this district were extremely high). Because I grew up in poverty, I felt like I could relate to these children. More than anything, I wanted to inspire these children to achieve more than their parents had achieved. I started the school year with many lofty dreams. By the time I left, most of these dreams were shattered.

Much to my despair, most of my students were awful. I know that this sounds mean, but they truly were terrible children. They were unruly, disrespectful, and rude. Have you ever been called a 'fucking bitch' by a third grader? Have you ever seen a student throw his desk across the room? Have you ever had a child destroy all of the posters on your walls because his mother failed to get his ADHD medication refilled? Have you ever seen children punch each other in the face on a daily basis? If not, then please don't judge me.

I tried my hardest with these children. I read book after book after book. I conferenced with older, wiser teachers. I did research online. I called parents (The parents did not care. Our school held an open house at the beginning of the year, and no parents from my class showed up. NONE. Not even one.). Still, nothing seemed to help.

There were many, many days when I cried on the way to work. There were many, many days when I cried during my lunch break. There were many, many days when I cried on other teachers' shoulders. There were many, many days when I cried on the drive home. The stress was overwhelming.

On top of the unruly behavior, each child in my class had serious issues to deal with at home - a mother in jail or a father on drugs or no place to live or developmental delays or ... There were just far too many problems for me to fix.

I tried to advocate for my students. I managed to get three of my students special education services. I managed to get one student on medication for ADHD. I finally taught one little boy how to tie his shoes (HE DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO TIE HIS SHOES IN THE THIRD GRADE!). I managed to piss off the administration with my discipline plan. But despite the various techniques I tired with these kids, I still feel like I did not succeed.

When I left my position to move to New Jersey, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off of me. I started to feel normal again. I started to feel happy again.

I often think about returning to teaching when Porgie gets bigger. I still have fantasies about making a difference in a child's life. But then reality slaps me in the face, and I remember my former students.

I have to admit, I am not sure that I'm cut out for teaching. That is a really hard pill to swallow.

Growing pains

Today Porgie is nine months old. When I look at her sweet little face, it is hard for me to even remember the newborn stage. I know that those first 3 months were unbelievably hard, but time as dulled my memory. As I think back, I can only vividly remember our happy times together. I remember the overwhelming sense of joy I felt when I heard her first cry. I remember the love that poured from my body when I held her in my arms. I remember the pride I felt when she learned to roll over. I remember the way my heart melted when she said "ma ma." I remember...

Although I often complain about her fussy behavior and horrible sleeping habits, Porgie really is a wonderful baby. She is my world. Without her, I am nothing.



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Did you know that swim diapers cost a fortune?

Saturday was our first swimming class at the YMCA. That morning, I was running around the house like a mad woman. I neglected to get our bag ready the night before. So, I was racing around trying to find my bathing suit, beach towels, and our beach bag. I never found the beach bag, so I ended up putting everything into the tote bag I used when teaching.

When we got to the Y, it was packed with people. I couldn't even find a damn locker to put all of our crap in. Porgie was overwhelmed by all of the chaos. She started crying and clinging to my chest. I quickly got her undressed (she already had her bathing suit on) and handed her off to John, while I got ready.

I have to admit, I felt like a nervous school girl in that locker room. There were naked bodies everywhere. Being the shy person I am, I patiently waited for a dressing room. I felt like a fat ass walking to the pool. I NEED to lose weight people! I HAVE CELLULITE ON MY THIGHS!

The actual swim class was very fun. We sang songs, kicked our feet, and splashed! Porgie thought it was wonderful. She wildly slapped her hands in the water and laughed.





Sorry that I don't have more pictures of Porgie in the pool. John only took 2 pictures of her in the water. Yes, he is a jackass.

A birthday surprise

Yesterday was John's birthday. Porgie was in an exceptionally good mood, so we decided to go over to Philadelphia for dinner.

We bundled Porgie up and drove to the city. We headed into china town, to this great little vegan restaurant. When we finally got there, we could not find a damn parking spot. We drove around in circles for at least 20 minutes. FINALLY, we found a spot only a few blocks from the restraurant.

It was cold, so we quickly walked to the restaurant. After being seated, I put Porgie in the highchair. She started screaming VERY LOUDLY. I quickly reached in the diaper bag and gave her a snack. She calmed down, and we were able to order our food.

As soon as Porgie finished her snack, she started crying again. I assumed that she was hungry, so I started feeding her some carrots. She kept turning her head and slapping at the spoon. The screaming continued. After Porgie managed to get carrots all over the table cloth, I decided to stop feeding her. Instead, I gave her another snack, which she promptly threw on the floor.

I started to feel panicky. Porgie was being so rude and loud. The other patrons were beginning to stare and roll their eyes. I was desperately trying to appease Porgie with various toys, but she kept tossing everything on the floor and crying.

John got her out of the highchair, but she continued squirming and complaining. When our appetizers arrived, he placed her back in the chair. Once again, she started flailing around and whining.

By this time, our evening out was already ruined. John asked for boxes and we got the hell out of the restaurant. Even on the way back to the car, Porgie was fussing. The twenty minute drive home was awful too. She cried almost the entire time.

When we finally got home, I put her down on the floor with some toys. She played and laughed and cooed for the next hour.

I guess Porgie just wasn't in the mood for Chinese food.


P.S. Porgie started swim classes at the YMCA last Saturday. I'll post pictures tomorrow!

Slapped upside the head

Over the past few weeks, Porgie has became increasingly active. She squirms and wiggles when I hold her. She flails and flaps her arms when I put her in the exersaucer. She rolls and scoots when I put her on the floor. All this excitement has caught me off guard. I really need to start paying more attention to her actions.

Porgie is becoming a danger to herself. She cracks her head on about 573 different objects per day. The kid is going to be black and blue if I don't start keeping a closer eye on her.

To illustrate this point, I am going to outline a typical day for poor little Porgie.

1. At 7:00 am, Porgie and I are sitting at the foot of my bed playing "pat-a-cake." Suddenly, she tries to dive off the side of the bed. Fortunately I grab her, but not until her head smacks against the bed post.

2. At 9:00 am, I really have to go to the bathroom and Porgie is being fussy. I bring her into the bathroom with me and sit her on the floor. Two seconds later, she falls face first into the side of the tub. Very traumatic.

3. At 11:00 am, Porgie is playing on the living room floor, while I look through the mail. She attempts to crawl closer to me, but ends up bumping her noggin on the side of the coffee table.

4. At 1:00 pm, I am putting my shoes on and Porgie is trying to grab my laces. Somehow, she falls sideways and her face slams into the sole of my shoe.

5. At 3:00 pm, I have a few things to do in the office, so I place Porgie on the floor next to me. She is playing with a board book. A moment later she is screaming bloody murder. She has fallen backward and has conked her head on the base of my chair.

6. At 4:00 pm, I decide that the day is becoming a little too dramatic. I take Porgie into the play room to unwind. She is quickly rolling across the floor, until she slams into the side of my aquarium stand.

7. Finally at 6:00 pm, John gets home from work. Porgie is very excited to see daddy. They are happily playing together until they accidentally bump heads. There are lots of screams and tears.

I am going to have child services called on my ass.

Mothers and Daughters

I have a very strained relationship with my mother. I really don't want to get into specifics, but I didn't have the greatest childhood. As a result, my mother and I have never been very close. In fact, she used to live 2 blocks from my house, and we only saw each other on holidays.

When John and I moved to New Jersey, my mother took a sudden interest in me and the baby. She wrote me letters every week, promising to come visit as soon as Porgie was born. I was weary of getting my hopes up, but for some reason I believed her. I was genuinely looking forward to seeing her.

After Porgie was born in June, my mom promised to come visit in July. In July, she promised to come visit in August. In August, she promised to come visit in September. In September, she explained that she just didn't have the money to make the trip. I was extremely pissed off. All of my anger and rage toward her boiled to the surface. For fear of saying something I might regret, I avoided talking to her for the next 3 months.

In December, we traveled back to Kentucky to visit family for Christmas. I wasn't looking forward to seeing my mother. When we arrived, she was overjoyed to see Porgie. However, Porgie hated being held by her. She screamed and cried the moment her grandma touched her. My mother looked heartbroken. Secretly, I was glad that Porgie didn't want to be held by her.

Needless to say, the visit wasn't a very happy one. My mother kept begging me to come to her new apartment, but I claimed that we just didn't have the time. Realistically, I could have found 10 minutes to visit her damn apartment, but I didn't want to. She clearly wasn't willing to make the effort to come see my new house or my new BABY. My mother badgered me continuously, until I became annoyed. The visit ended on a very sour note.

For the past two months, my mother and I have only spoken briefly. We rarely call or write each other anymore.

A few weeks ago, my birthday passed. As expected, I did not receive a present from my mother. I know that I shouldn't care, but for some reason I do. Everyday, I excitedly go to the mailbox, only to find more junk mail and bills.

As I think about my relationship with my mother, I can't help but worry about my relationship with Porgie. I hope that I never make her feel so insignificant.

Porgie on Christmas day

I love her to pieces