Life is Rich…E-R-S-O-N
Just sharing opinions…take it or leave it.The KC Marathon Experience
I really wish I could say that I ran the whole marathon, but I didn’t. I ran on a relay team and I was the finisher. I ran a 10K – and WHEW was I proud of myself. It was my longest race distance and I feel that I finished in great time. I also tried GU for the first time. “Fifteen before and every forty five” is a good idea – except when your only choice is strawberry banana. I felt a little guilty taking this GU as I was not running the full marathon, but someone threw it at me as I waited for the ankle chip to be run in from leg 4, so I took it and ate it. Strawberry banana GU is not good. I wish someone would have thrown grape GU. I hope they MAKE grape GU – it would be much better.
There were several other things about this experience that I feel I must comment on. Thank you to all who came to cheer….EXCEPT blond curly-haired mid twenties guys who we will name Rude Cheerer. Here’s the problem. When you cheer, regardless of who is coming by, you should always say “Go Runners!” Your cheer for me was rude, and it did not help me at all when I hear three consecutive “Go Runners” followed by a “Go Walker…” I literally stopped running right in front of you…you saw me running, and then saw me slow to a walk for maybe 20 seconds. “Go Walker” is not nice, nor did it motivate me to do anything but be annoyed and vow to talk bad about you on my blog.
Luckily after Rude Cheerer, I was passed by encountered The Barefoot Runner. I’ve heard of this amazing creature, and am pretty sure I saw you training at a local high school. I’m sorry that I yelled “The Barefoot Runner – I saw him!” but I had my iPod on and wasn’t thinking. I have a rather TERRIBLE case of verbal diarrhea. Just ask George Brett. Or Billy Butler. Anyway, regardless of your amazing accomplishment I really don’t think it’s a good idea to round the corner onto The Paseo and yell out “I love the hood.” No one in “the hood” cares that you love it, regardless of your shoe status. Not smart. Not smart.
Once the Barefoot Runner went along on his merry way, I was stuck with Orange Shirt with No Bib, (Are you allowed to just join in? with NO bib? That would have totally saved me money!), Bright Yellow Guy, and BFFs. OSWNB (Orange Shirt with No Bib) and I had a great thing going. He tested all the random snacks that non-volunteer people brought out, and if he didn’t choke or fall over, then I knew I should have some, too. Good call on the GummieBears, OSWNB. Bright Yellow Guy was good for me for a bit, too. I stayed right behind him, almost like I was “speed ghosting”. But then he stopped and started walking. I wasn’t about to risk another hearty cheer for Rude Cheerer, so I pushed on past Bright Yellow Guy and hoped he didn’t get a “Go Walker”, too. BFFs, I have to say, I’m kinda disappointed in you. I realize I only ran 6.2 miles with you, but I assumed you had been running the entire marathon side by side. Why did you ditch your friend in the last mile? It was a good testament to friendships everywhere, and it made me glad that my friends Lady Gaga, Rihanna, Britney, and Three Dog Night didn’t have the option of leaving me. I ALWAYS charge the iPod.
The best part is obviously at the end. I never really had the desire to run a full marathon before until I got to the finish line. People cheering for you (as long as you write your name on your bib, DANG IT!), tears, laughter, fist pumps, claps, etc. But I would ditch all that, and seriously think about running 26.2 miles because I REALLY want to be given the shiny foil cape! Oh what fun those were! They crinkle so loud and look so pretty all over the place. Do they give those out at every marathon? If so, I’m grabbing OSWNB and we’re headed out.
My beef with Baby Center
Baby Center.com was my best friend when I was pregnant. I could google ANYTHING – and Baby Center would usually be the top hit. I joined as a member and even “chatted” on some of the member forums (please stop making fun of me in your mind…I also belong to a LOST forum, on which I have spent many-a-hour feeling dumb by talking to smart LOST watchers…). Anyway – Baby Center was great. It would email me each week with a little paragraph about my baby’s development (it does leave a lot to be desired because one teeny little paragraph was just not quite enough for me and my paranoia quest for knowledge) and I would read it and feel so great about the fact that my baby had eyelashes.
Towards the end of my pregnancy, Baby Center just got plain ole mean. It kept telling me I was gaining weight by POUNDS each WEEK which is just not what I wanted to hear. Uh, excuse me BabyCenter, you don’t know me or my weight so just relax with the weight gain talk.
Well, after Baby was born, Baby Center continued to tell me about my baby as she aged. Each week, by golly, Baby Center was sending me all sorts of stuff, and I was eating it up. At first I thought it was wonderful…“Dear Erin, Your newborn baby will sleep all day and eat a lot. She might even open her eyes to look at you once, but don’t worry if they are crossed. And, you will be tired.” Dead on BabyCenter. Good work.
About 8 weeks into it (or somewhere around there), Baby Center decides to send a new email: “Dear Erin, Your baby should be grasping rattles and making them shake. She will bat at objects in her sight. She should be able to reach for a toy held just out of her reach. Her head control is great at this time and she loves to sit up and reach for bright colored toys. And, you will still be tired.” Well, Baby wasn’t doing these things at all, but I was one up on Baby Center because I wasn’t tired! HA! Anyway, Baby looked at stuff, but certainly wasn’t grasping them, let alone batting at them. And, her head was still lollygagging all over the place. But, regardless of the small disclaimer at the bottom of the emails (all babies develop differently) Baby Center KEPT TELLING ME THE SAME THINGS! Email upon email would tell me these things. I was starting to get very annoyed. Well, Baby Center, ya know what? BACK OFF. We’re working on it. We’ve got saucers, and toys hanging from every stupid thing we own, and by golly, sometimes she’d rather just put her OWN hands in her mouth and not a stupid crinkly noise toy. SHEESH.
Around that same time, I noticed something happening to me as well. I had clumps, YES, clumps of hair coming out. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me and I’d acquired some new disease. Weeks went by, and my hair kept falling out. (I wasn’t bald by any means, but was worried that was coming!) Well, good ole Baby Center decides to tell me about post partum hair loss SIXTEEN WEEKS after giving birth. “Dear Erin, Your hair is probably falling out. You probably noticed 4-6 weeks ago. It’s normal and your hair won’t be regular again until about 1 year post partum.” HELLO? Where were you 4 weeks ago when this started. You are so quick to jump the gun on the grasping of rattles and super head control, but when MY hair is falling out you decide to wait a little bit before giving me a clue about this fun fact. Thanks a lot for all your helpful tips, Baby Center. Love ya.
“These are the Days of Our Lives…”
Alright, simply put – I’m extremely annoyed with Days of Our Lives. If you don’t watch it (or never have) you will not enjoy this post. Those of you who hate soaps – I’m with ya – but Days is pretty good. I don’t DVR it or anything – but I was planning on being in front of my TV every day of maternity leave with my baby and we would catch up. But I’ve pretty much had it.
First of all, you CANNOT take Luis and Teresa from Passions, change their names and attitudes and put them on Days. It’s not really working for me. Luis/Raif needs to stay with his good guy cop image on Passions. And Teresa/Ariana (I’m sorry but is that even a Latina name?!) can’t just over night become sane because she switched soaps. Switching soaps can work for some – just not for them.
Also, who the world is Mia? Oh, and isn’t Sydney really Sammy’s baby? Apparently not anymore because Mia had her. Ugh – this is so dumb. I know soaps aren’t supposed to make a lot of sense – but this is ridiculous. At least give me something I can follow! And Kate. Don’t GET me started with Kate. She’s lost her marbles, that’s for sure, and so has the rest of Salem because Kate has poisoned just about all of them and keeps getting caught – but she still does it again. Dumb. And why do all of Stephano’s kids have different accents than him. Mystic Tan Tony is apparently somewhat British, EJ (what kind of name is that anyway) is really British, Lexi is completely American, and then Stephano has a Russian accent. (I’m not blasting you Stephano, you will always be a favorite….but seriously, the accent?) And WHERE is Celeste?
I’d like to relive the good ole Days. (See what I did there? days, Days…. ) I know Deirdre Hall was kicked off or let go or something – but Marlena and Jon Black cannot stay in Europe forever! And bring back Jennifer and Hot Jack. (Please don’t bring back Real Jack – he was NOT hot.) Austin and Keri and Mike would stand a little action, too. I’d even go through Marlena being possessed again IF it brings back the people we know and love. Oh – and Sammy’s twin, Eric. And Billie. (Big Lip Billie – not the other one.)
I don’t know. I was ready to devote an hour a day to this hot mess. Now, I’m just gonna have to settle for a nap…
Dear Thirty…
Dear Thirty,
Sadly your visit is getting closer and closer. While I normally love guests, you are unfortunately the kind that stays and gets worse as the years go by.
I’ve been anticipating your arrival for some time now, and have had other visitors along the way. But it seems that you have been slowly, but surely, leaving little hints of your unwanted visit with other, much more tolerable friends. I lost the weight that TwentyFive gave me when she stole my metabolism – but you….you are WAY more sneaky than that 25. YOU bring on weight in 2 pound increments hoping I won’t notice. But I’ve noticed, Thirty, and let me tell you…I’m on it. I have been running like the wind (okay, okay, running like a small breeze is a little more accurate, but still…give me some CREDIT!) and despite you threatening me with cracking knees and feet that fall asleep, I’m determined to continue. The cynicism that TwentySeven brought me probably shouldn’t be blamed on TwentySeven. I think it might have been hiding in there since TwentyThree when I hit the real world and found out thirty grand ain’t beans. TwentyEight and TwentyNine…now those are real friends I hated to see go. They gave me no troubles with their brief visits. But you…I’m sure you, with your 9 friends, will really out do yourselves. Listen here, Thirty, since I have no choice but to host you and your friends for the next 10 years, I’m gonna do what I can to keep you at bay and not let anyone know you are here (aside from the large party I intend to have celebrating your arrival – but after that….we’re done).
I fully intend on keeping fun colors in my hair. So bring your greys, Thirty, you bring ’em….and I will cover them up with whatever I need to in order to look like I am still rockin’ it with my friends from the Twenties. Oh, and don’t go thinking you can continue to slide a pound or two in here and there…like I said, I’m on it. I will continue to run like the wind small breeze that I am. Mark my words, Thirty. You can bring your luggage filled with cracking knees, age spots, wrinkles, and one piece swimsuits. I will toss them out with ibuprofen, my dermatologist, and…..alright, the one piece can stay IF it is a tankini. That is totally not your fault – I blame that on Baby.
So…Thirty. We will meet soon. But please don’t be sad when after the fun party….we’re finished. I’m sure I’ll be singing a different tune when Forty comes…but until then…I’m so over you.
Love, Erin
Sing a Song of Sixpence
I was singing to Baby the other day. Although her favorite songs include “Peanut Butter Jelly Time“, “Ms. New Booty” by Bubba Sparx (in my defense I only sing the part that sounds like ‘Buddha Buddha Buddha’ because Baby looks like a little Buddha when she sits…please don’t judge me for the terrible lyrics in the rest of the song!) I decide to make up a new song featuring amazing lyrics of “lalala”.
Crazy decides he LOVES my song and starts to sing along. “This is new…”, I think to myself. I decide to keep this song going as long as possible because Crazy seems to be really into it…like, more into it than Baby. The howling and lalala-ing continue for several minutes. Eventually Crazy grows tired of it and heads upstairs. I tell Baby “That crazy Crazy…he’s so crazy! He was singing with us!” and kept right on lalala-ing, thinking the whole time what a fun family moment it was and how I hope Crazy will always sing with us. Usually, Crazy is pretty dumb, but I’m beginning to think there’s something really there for him to know to sing along to help keep Baby happy!
After many, many verses of my amazing song, Crazy returns to the basement and sits down in front of me with a very sad looking face. I’ve seen this look before, and it’s not good. Baby in tow, I emerge from the basement to a smell I hadn’t smelled in a while. There is poop and pee all over the dining room.
Ugh. Apparently, Crazy is NOT a fan of my singing, or my awesome, made-up song. Nor was he singing along. Nor has he somehow gotten smarter and knows it’s a good idea to sing to help Baby be happy. He was only whining the generic I-need-to-potty whine. What a stupid dog.
And the dumbest part…Crazy even came downstairs, plopped right down in front of me, and told on himself. WHAT a stupid dog.
Rasta, Mon (insert your best Jamaican accent here)
I thought as you get used to having a baby things start becoming more natural and normal. I also thought that between Husband and me, with combined qualificiations of two bachelor’s degrees and two Master’s degrees (ahem, the Master’s are both mine…not that I’m bragging…I’m just sayin’…), we were almost over qualified for the job of having a baby. I mean, really….between the two of us, we have taught thousands of children in our careers (…this also makes choosing a name for your child VERY difficult….) and I was pretty sure that it would be difficult, but we’re not idiots. C’Mon…how could we mess this up?
So, yesterday, as I get Baby ready for church in her darling striped dress that her Aunt gave her. (People will give you ugly clothes….my sister in law is not one of those people. Everyone should know her simply because she knows how and where to find the cutest baby clothes.) I try to smooth out her hair in the back. Baby’s hair is trying very hard to be curly. On a nice humid day, Husband and I don’t look that great with our frizzy curls. He keeps his short and I spend a lot of time trying to fool people into thinking that my hair is actually straight. I do my best to help Baby’s hair know that it should stay straight, too, but it I think it will end up having some curl. And, since Baby’s hair is “baby fine”, it really just gets kinda….icky in the back. Anyway….
Back to getting her ready for church. I begin the smoothing process thinking it would just smooth itself out and be fine. Well, APPARENTLY, sometime in the night, Bob Marley snuck into my house and gave Baby a new hairdo fit for the Jamaican bobsled team. What in the world? I KNOW I brush her hair. Sure, she has a good amount of hair, but it is the consistency of spiderwebs. How tangled can it get? I’m Cousin It compared to Baby and my hair doesn’t get that tangled.
Needless to say, these new dreads on Baby do not “comb out”. In fact, that makes them worse. (Note to self: Do not comb out dreadlocks.) It also makes Baby very annoyed at me. So I did what any mom (who should apparently know to comb her baby’s hair multiple times a day) would do and I got out my scissors. And I cut those little buggers out. And now, Baby looks oh-so-much better with her four weird bald spots and a mom that carries a comb around all day.
Shoulda just left it…. Shoulda….just….left….it. Good call, Miss I Have Two Master’s. Sheesh.
Hotcha Doggie!
Today I made Bacon Wrapped Jalapeno Poppers. A friend made them for book club and they were very very good. Those who know me best know that I was a daily customer at Sonic during pregnancy simply for the Cheddar Poppers….MMMMMM.
My friend told me she de-seeded them, but forgot to wear gloves and that her fingers were “on fire”. “Hmmmm….whatever” is what went through my brain.
I started out using a spoon to de-seed my jalapenos. It was too hard, so I ditched the spoon and just used my thumbs and index fingers. It was much faster, and didn’t burn at all. At this point I am wondering about my friend’s tolerance for pain….seriously.
Until now. It started out really slow…just a tingle really…about 2 hours after finishing. At this point, my fingernails feel as if they might peel back from my skin. I have since washed my hands multiple times. My eyes are burning, my fingers are burning, and at one point I had a hangnail to chew off…..and now my lips and tongue are burning.
My advice….WEAR GLOVES.
Lullabies to order…and the ONE to stay away from.
I ordered music for Baby to sleep to at night as part of the “soothing process”. I read that if Baby is always used to being rocked to sleep while seeing either my or Husband’s face she will also need that if she wakes in the middle of the night. With the advice of our doctor, and books, we wanted her to learn “self-soothing” techniques so that if she does awaken in the middle of the night and is not hungry, she can simply soothe herself back to sleep (like we do as adults). So, part of this process is providing a similar process for each night so she will get used to a routine and putting her down awake – thus the music. That way it will be on in the middle of the night and she can hear it and think “Ah yes, this music is for sleeping, I must need to go to sleep again without crying or enlisting someone else to entertain me until I am sleepy.” I know Baby has an inner monologue…
So – I ordered music made for soothing. I ordered the Beatles and U2 versions of “Rock-a-Bye Baby”. The ones I ordered had no words, and so I went back to iTunes for more. I then found some other albums with people actually singing. (Sidenote: If you are ordering music for your child to sleep to – I recommend buying LOTS of it. Hearing it through the monitor all night, every night, over and over, is enough to make me want to stick freshly sharpened pencils in my ears.) I love the music; it is soothing and sounds great, and although she hasn’t really told me either way, I think Baby is really glad I turn it on for her while she sleeps.
WELL, the other day I go in the nursery because Baby is crying. Normal. Must need to eat. Plus, she had been alseep a long time. Totally normal. Baby’s eyes are wide open, and the words I hear coming out of the iPod are as follows:
Stay awake, don’t rest your head
Don’t lie down upon your bed
While the moon drifts in the sky
Stay awake, don’t close your eyes
Though the world is fast asleep
Though your pillow’s soft and deep
You’re not sleepy as you seem
Stay awake, don’t nod and dream
Stay awake, don’t nod and dream
What in the world? No wonder Baby is awake. The stupid song I purchased TO HELP HER SLEEP is brainwashing her to STAY AWAKE! I paid good money for this, and don’t feel I was given adequate information as to what I was purchasing.
It has since been deleted from the “Sleeping Baby” playlist on the iPod. I realize it is a Julie Andrews/Mary Poppins original, but GET REAL. It is not helping in any way…
What I DO recommend to you, if you choose to purchase music, is “Children’s Lullabies: the iTunes Essentials”. Although there is one song on this playlist that encourages the listener to “sing this lullaby to yourself“, it is by Jack Johnson and so it makes it okay that he is being a little snotty. Everyone knows babies can’t sing…c’mon Jack….plus, we paid $0.99 for YOU to sing it.
The first real day of maternity leave
Today was the first day I would have HAD to go back to work. My maternity leave was deferred because I had Baby in the summer time, after the school year had ended. (If you don’t know, I am a teacher…) Maternity leave: each day will start with a good 3-4 mile run (please see My Cure for the Race on how that would have worked out…), then a wonderful protein breakfast, followed by quality time teaching Baby EVERYTHING so she can start reading chapter books by 6 months of age, enjoy a nice hour long lunch with a friend or my mom or my sister in law and her kids, and then have dinner ready for Husband after watching anything other than Oprah (I really dislike Oprah, but will comment later….).
So, today all my work friends sharpened pencils, put up bulletin boards, laminated things, went to meetings, and made grandiose plans for this school year, while I stayed home and followed all my plans…
Instead, I woke up at 4:30am (again, this is after Baby had slept 9 hours….so don’t feel sorry for me). I fed Baby, and couldn’t go back to sleep. I checked Facebook (Why has NO ONE updated their status yet??? UGH!) I took my Dad to the airport at 7am while drinking 100 cups of coffee (although Baby slept 9 hours, I decided to stay up late after book club and watch TV for awhile….). I then got dressed, and went shopping at TWO different stores for punch out letters for Husband (he’s a teacher, too, and needed help with bulletin boards.). I then drive to Husband’s school, and start laminating, cutting out shapes, and putting together bulletin boards after eating a fast 10 minute lunch. All of this while taking breaks to feed and burp and play with Baby.
Seriously? This is NOT how I planned it. I’m not supposed to be doing ANY of these things. There has been no running today…lunch was 10 minutes IN MY CAR…I did have an egg for breakfast…and I didn’t even get to catch up on Big Brother OR teach Baby how to read. (Did I mention that I STOLE my own bulletin board stuff from MY classroom and took it to Husband’s school for HIS bulletin boards???) The rate I’m going I’ll be volunteering in my own classroom tomorrow morning while I pay out of pocket for day care that isn’t supposed to start until 12 weeks from now….
Knock on Wood
Last night, Husband and I were talking about how we certainly must be “lucky” because we have an easy baby. For the last week, she has slept a good 7 – 9 hours each night solid, and wakes up with a smile, and we really felt like we might be the only people who have had it this “easy”. But, when we stopped and really thought about it, we came to the conclusion that people must feel lucky when they have an “easy” baby because all you ever hear about are people who have difficult ones. Is it really luck of the draw? Do we need to hold our breath every time we get pregnant hoping we “luck out” and get a baby that is easy? It can’t be this hap-hazard, can it?
No one ever talks about easy babies. No one ever talks about easy labors or easy deliveries. And since I’ve never been one for a verbal filter…I’m gonna go ahead and talk about mine. I think people should talk about it if it is easy – because I don’t think first time moms need to go through pregnancy holding their breath thinking labor and delivery is the worst ever every time or that as soon as that baby comes out it cries for 3 months straight. The cruddy part for me came on my own body afterwards, and only because I wasn’t aware these thing happen. People only share horror stories it seems. And that isn’t how it happens for everyone – or at least not for me.
I was induced in order to have my baby. The only negative to my story is that I had a TERRIBLE 1st trimester +4 weeks and a very painful 3rd trimester and I think my doctor felt sorry for me and let me be induced….regardless it really worked in my favor. Back to induction. I started on pitocin at 7:30am, water broken at 9:30, was tired of having contractions by 11:00 and got an epidural. I hadn’t felt that great in a few months, and literally 5 minutes after getting that epidural I cried because I couldn’t feel the pain in my hips for the first time in a long time. It was AMAZING. After that, I hung out and enjoyed my day. My doctor was paged when it was time for delivery, but Baby was already making her entrance. Luckily a different doctor was standing in the hallway at the time, because he was grabbed to come in and deliver. I looked at the clock when they put my feet in the stirrups. The minute hand was between 5:29 and 5:30pm. He told me to push, and I did…9 times, 10 seconds each with a breath in between. At 5:35pm my baby was out and I was finished. Piece of cake…. seriously.
At three weeks old, Baby was able to sleep about 4 – 5 hours at night for her “long sleep period” the majority of nights. Books and such call this “sleeping through the night”. Really? I’m pretty sure sleeping through the night for me would be a good 10 hours, but maybe that’s just me. Regardless of the definition, Baby started sleeping longer and longer at night with each passing week. I was tired, sure, 5 hours isn’t enough for me. But it was better than one or two, or ZERO. We can now put her to bed with wide awake eyes, and she will go to sleep, and she will sleep for 7-9 hours. I can also put her to sleep in the daytime, eyes wide open, no fussing, and she will take a good nap.
Baby doesn’t cry much. Sure – she let’s you know if she’s hungry, or needs her pacifier, or has dirty pants, but other than that she likes to gurgle and “talk” to me. She smiles a lot (and not just at Husband anymore!). She likes to look at Crazy (our puppy) with his white flash on his black face. She smiled and giggled today when I took her hand and put in on his fur. Grumpy was out chewing his bone so he missed out on the pets.
I can count on one hand the times where I have been so frustrated that I wanted to cry in the last 9 weeks due to the baby and I would say 3 out of 5 of those, it was only because she was needing to eat sooner than we expected. One time was because she had gotten shots and the house was hot and so she was hot. There has never been a time when she cries simply for no reason and I love her for that. Every noise she makes has a reason, and I love that I know what each one means.
She sleeps, eats, and poops like clockwork. Maybe I’m getting used to having a baby, or being a mom is becoming more second nature than something I have to think about consciously. Regardless, people should know that some babies are easy, and I (knock on wood) got one…luck or not. I know there are several of you out there that would like to punch me right now, and I’m sorry.
Life is Rich...E-R-S-O-N 
